Early in the morning, birds chirped merrily in the garden. The maids and servants of the manor finished their cleaning and began preparing breakfast. Now that Miss Fan Ruoruo, daughter of the Earl of Sinan, had returned to Kyoto, there was only one and a half masters left in the manor, so there wasn't much to do.

After finishing all their tasks, the head maid, Dong'er, went to wake Fan Xian up, but she was startled by his appearance. She thought the young boy was seriously ill and hurriedly prepared to call a doctor. However, after checking his pulse, the doctor said there was nothing seriously wrong, only that he had eaten something recently that had caused excessive internal heat. He prescribed a few prescriptions for conditioning and left after taking his payment.

Since Fei Jie arrived at the Earl's residence, the former tutor, a fan of ancient prose, had resigned in dismay. As the morning breeze entered the room, Fei Jie looked at the young boy with dark circles under his eyes and chuckled in his high-pitched voice: "People say that a young man's heart is like the rising sun, unaware of the sorrows of the world. What has troubled you so much that you can't even sleep well and have to alarm the doctor?"

Fan Xian had been thinking all night, still unsure whether to practice the true qi within him. Although his nature was to treat practicing this nameless skill as a game to pass the endless days, he naturally had to be cautious if it involved life and death.

Having slept too little, he was already somewhat absent-minded. Hearing Teacher Fei's words about not knowing the sorrows of the world, he subconsciously hummed: "In youth I knew not sorrow's taste, I loved to mount the tower. I loved to mount the tower, To write new verses feigning grief. And now I've known all sorrow's taste, I want to speak, yet hold my peace. I want to speak, yet hold my peace, And say instead, 'What a fine cool autumn day!'"

……

……

The study fell silent, without a sound for a long time. Fan Xian propped up his sleepy eyes and yawned: "Teacher, I slept too late last night. Please don't be angry."

Fei Jie looked at him, subconsciously reaching out to stroke his beard, but he accidentally poked himself on the chin with the goose feather quill he was holding. He was jolted awake and stammered, "Just now... those lines... who wrote them?"

"The poor old Xin."

Without thinking, Fan Xian blurted out the name of Xin Qiji. It was at this moment that he realized the mistake he had made.

Looking at Fei Jie's eyes glowing green, Fan Xian's speech became slurred, and he stuttered, "Old Xin is a secondary salt merchant from the west of the city who came to collect sea salt last month."

"Oh, well written. For a merchant to be able to write such words, what is his name?"

"Xin... Qiji," Fan Xian stole a glance.

Fei Jie's expression had returned to normal, and he began the lesson. In addition to the introduction to biological poisons, he also had to teach other courses, so his teaching duties were quite heavy.

……

……

After lunch, back in his bedroom, Fan Xian finally began to face the complex question: should he practice that domineering and dangerous true qi or not? He held the yellow book in his hands and began to worry.

But before that, he should first worry about those few lines of verse he had carelessly uttered in the study.

*Ugly Slave - Inscription on the Wall of Boshan Road* was a poem by Xin Qiji after he was demoted, with a change in style to become gentle and melancholy. Fan Xian was naturally very familiar with it, but he had only recited it casually. He had not expected it to bring him so much trouble, but he didn't know if the excuse he had made up had fooled Teacher Fei. However, judging from Fei Jie's expression at the time, he seemed to believe it - the original author was a sea salt merchant.

Fan Xian didn't have any moral squeamishness, and he didn't think that plagiarizing the works of predecessors was such a disgusting thing. In his opinion, since these poems were something only he knew, not making use of them would be a waste of natural resources.

In the years before coming to this world, he had enough time to think about how to survive in this world. The promising job of a literary plagiarist had unhesitatingly entered his plan and firmly occupied a glorious position in the top three.

While conceiving this part, Fan Xian kept hypnotizing himself: he was not a yeast, he was a disseminator and preserver of Earth's cultural heritage, a great sharer.

But he didn't want to copy like that, not at this moment. In his imagination, at least when writing something, he had to use the names of those ancestors from the original world as pen names.

Just like today in the study, if a five-year-old child was going to copy, he should copy Luo Binwang's poem *White Goose*, "Goose, goose, goose," how cheerful and in line with his planned child prodigy image.

But if a young child casually hummed "I want to speak, yet hold my peace, And say instead, 'What a fine cool autumn day!'" then he would no longer be a child prodigy, but a Tianshan Child Granny - a *loli* on the outside, but with three hundred and sixty-five cracks in her heart, each crack inscribed with the four words spring, summer, autumn, and winter, so weathered as to be demonic.

While thinking about these random things, Fan Xian fell asleep beautifully according to his biological clock that had been stable as a mountain for years, and began to meditate in his dreams to practice that true qi that Fei Jie considered extremely dangerous and domineering.

It was from this day on that Fan Xian resigned himself to fate. Since sleeping was practicing, then he would practice. He'd deal with it when it really exploded.

——————————————————————

When Fan Xian was taking a nap, Teacher Fei Jie was continuing to write the letter he had not finished last night in his room.

There were a few lines of dried ink on the letter paper, probably left over from last night.

"...This child is outstanding in appearance, courage, intelligence, perseverance, and maturity. If all the five-year-old boys in Qing Yu Nian stood together, he would definitely be hiding at the back of the crowd, but he would also be the fastest to be discovered. Judging from this year of getting along, it is most appropriate for him to inherit the master's property in the future, but unfortunately, his identity is the biggest problem..."

The writing ended here. He had written to this point last night when Fan Xian began to ask him about the issue of true qi.

Fei Jie sighed, thinking of the few lines of verse he had heard Fan Xian recite in the study this morning. He calmed himself slightly and began to continue writing on the letter paper: "...I want to speak, yet hold my peace, And say instead, 'What a fine cool autumn day!' In recent years, ancient prose has been declining, and modern prose is in power. It is really hard to believe that it came from the mouth of a five-year-old child, and it is also difficult to believe that it was written by a merchant. Moreover, when the young master answered at that time, there was a slight look of panic in his eyes, which is rarely seen in the process of getting along for a year. The biggest problem is that I am with him every day, and I don't know when that Xin Qiji secretly met with him."

At the end of the letter, he solemnly wrote: "Let the people on Dongshan Road investigate who that sea salt merchant named Xin Qiji is, what is the reason for contacting the young master, and why is the young master panicked because of these few lines of verse? This matter is very urgent, please do it quickly."

He put down his pen after writing a deformed signature.

A few days later, the Kyoto Surveillance Bureau began to dispatch secret agents to search for a sea salt merchant in a big way. As a result, they found many private salt traffickers and brought down several high-ranking officials in eastern Qing Yu Nian. The results were remarkable, but they never found that merchant named Xin. According to Kyoto rumors, Director Chen of the Surveillance Bureau, who was feared by everyone in the world, was very angry about this matter, and the entire hospital was fined three months' salary. The secret agents searched all over the world, their eyes showing ferocity.

……

……

God bless the poor man who is also named Xin Qiji in this world...