Confucianism is supreme? I am reciting Tang poems in another world!

"What do you mean?" Meng Ruo turned to look at Ning Ping'an, his eyes full of confusion.

"How many of the seven sons of Zhongzhou are left now? How many of them died? Who has the surname 'Ci'?"

Ning Ping'an stopped there, then turned to look at Yan Ruoci and said, "Ruoci, you are different from your father. He looks at things based on deeds rather than hearts. He only looks at what others do and doesn't care too much about what others think. But you are different. You treat everyone with your heart. I hope that you can keep this innocent heart, which may be of some benefit when you face the difficulties of great scholars in the future."

After saying that, Ning Ping'an really left the room without staying.

After hearing Ning Ping'an's reminder, Meng Ruo froze in place, as if struck by thunder.

"Mother, what are the seven sons of Zhongzhou?"

. . . . . . .

The next morning, Ci Song woke up at dawn. It was not because Ci Song was studious, but because the bed was too hard. There was no quilt, and even the pillow was made of wood. This made Ci Song sleep very uncomfortably and he woke up several times in the middle of the night.

"This bed is really not suitable for ordinary people. No, I have to buy a quilt and pillow. If I keep sleeping on such a bed, I am afraid that my waist will be protruding before it grows well."

Ci Song stretched his waist. Although he woke up several times at night, he did not feel any fatigue, and even more energetic, which surprised him.

"It's time to practice Wen Qi."

Ci Song sat on the bed and began to circulate the Wen Qi in his body. When he just mobilized his own Wen Qi, he found that it was much smoother and more condensed than before. "

"What's going on? I didn't practice, so why did Wen Qi become more pure and condensed? "

Ci Song was full of doubts and immediately looked inside his body. After a careful examination, he found that the Wen Qi in his body had automatically circulated a cycle, which warmed up his meridians.

"What's going on? How did it start practicing on its own?"

He checked his body again and again, and finally attributed the answer to the Wen Yun Orb, because he had no other treasures on him, just this "plug-in" given to him by his father, which had not been fully activated.

"It seems that this Wen Yun Orb is really mysterious. When my cultivation level is higher, I will study it carefully. "

Ci Song murmured in his heart. He still understood the principle of being guilty of possessing a treasure.

"That's good. I don't have to practice by myself anymore in the future, and I can also use the remaining time to study something else. ”

After a simple wash, Ci Song went to the restaurant and had a simple breakfast, and then went to the freshman hall. Yesterday, Mr. Yi left a question and said that he would find someone to answer it today. Ci Song had a hunch that Mr. Yi would probably call him, so he had to be fully prepared today.

The question Mr. Yi gave was also very interesting. It only had one word: "filial piety". This question was derived from Mr. Yi's explanation of the famous sentence "When parents are alive, do not travel far away, and travel must have a plan" in the "Analects of Confucius·Liren Chapter". At first, Mr. Yi's question was: "Whether traveling far away while parents are alive violates filial piety."

But later, Mr. Yi felt that such a question was still a bit difficult for this group of freshmen, so he directly took its core, With the word "filial piety" as the topic, let everyone express themselves freely.

Doesn't this hit the mark of Ci Song? There are too many poems describing the word "filial piety" in ancient times, and Ci Song certainly wants to write a classic.

That's right, it is Meng Jiao's famous poem, the poem that Ci Song has been reciting since childhood: "The Song of the Wandering Son".

When Ci Song arrived at the freshman school, most of the people were already sitting there. They were reciting or reciting "The Analects" with their heads shaking. Although they have already mastered these by heart, they still recite them over and over again.

"It turns out that the ancients recited books like this. If one person shook his head, it would only feel strange or even funny, but a group of people shaking their heads together formed a beautiful landscape, which is very good. "

Ci Song came to the seat beside his podium and began to write the poem "Song of the Wandering Son". He took a deep breath and made full preparations before writing. He would stop writing immediately if he felt uncomfortable. After all, he didn't want to endure the heart-wrenching pain caused by the backlash of literary energy for the second time.

"The thread in the hands of a loving mother is the clothes on the body of a wandering son.

She sews them tightly before he leaves, fearing that he will return late.

Who says that the grass heart can repay the three spring sunshine?"

The poem was completed after writing, and then Ci Song closed his eyes, ready to endure what was about to happen.

One second, two seconds, three seconds... Ten seconds passed, and nothing happened.

Ci Song opened his eyes and found that he did not feel any pain. Except that the speed of his talent in his body was a little faster, there was no other change.

"Could it be that the voice of the old man I heard that day was not an illusion? Will this literary orb really help me solve the problem of literary backlash? "

Ci Song was puzzled, and then he looked inside his body and found that the Wenyun Orb in his Dantian was indeed emitting golden light, and the talent in his body was also constantly running, and the speed was even faster than when Ci Song practiced on his own.

"This Wenyun Orb is really a good treasure, it suits me perfectly. I can only say that the things given by my biological father are really reliable. "

Ci Song was overjoyed. Just as he was about to write another poem, he heard the old man's voice: "Don't write anymore. If you write another immortal poem like the one in front of the Wenyun Ancient Tree, even the Wenyun Pearl can't save your weak body."

"Ah?"

"Your inheritance is too powerful. With your current low level of cultivation, writing a poem a day is already the limit. Don't show off your talent too much. Be restrained, otherwise you will be crushed into dust by the literary energy of heaven and earth, and then I can't save you."

The old man's voice came again, telling Ci Song's current situation.

"Then senior, if I recite a poem, will it backfire?" Ci Song asked.

"No, only when you write down a poem will it be remembered by heaven and earth. If you recite it, it will be of great benefit to you now. If you really feel that you have no place to display your talent, then recite the poem."

"But there is one thing you must remember. If the poem you recite is copied by others, then his cultivation will not be improved at all. Instead, he will be backfired by the literary spirit. Remember, remember."

"Then can I become stronger by reciting poems every day?" Just as Ci Song raised this question, a voice pulled Ci Song back to reality.

"Okay, everyone stop for a moment."

Mr. Yi walked to the front of the stage and then shouted: "Time is up, and the class officially begins."

. . . . . . . .