Li Qingyuan and Miao Le stopped cultivating. Every day, they stayed home to raise their child, played with him, and enjoyed the happiness of family life.
They knew the time they could spend playing with their child was very, very short-probably only ten or so years, a dozen years at most.
Li Changsheng was indeed a monstrous talent, like a Human Emperor of antiquity, with an utterly outrageous capacity for learning and absorbing knowledge, as though born knowing, innately divine.
He could walk at one month and speak at three months. At six months, his intelligence matched that of an ordinary human child of four or five, and he could basically communicate normally with his parents and express his needs.
By one year old, Li Changsheng already recognized over ten thousand characters. He adored reading, learning, and perusing ancient texts, so Li Qingyuan and Miao Le read with their son every day, roaming the ocean of knowledge.
Even that was not enough. Li Qingyuan wrote out all the classics he had read in his previous life for his son Li Changsheng: classic works of Huaxia culture, the Hundred Schools of Thought, pre-Qin classics, the Yellow Emperor's Inner Canon, the Yangming School of Mind, and even Selected Works of the Chairman.
Li Changsheng read them with utter absorption. Whenever the little fellow opened his mouth, he quoted one master or another; his words flowed like polished prose, brimming with literary grace.
Miao Le also felt her horizons broaden. The writings of Huaxia's sages tempered her state of mind, making her disposition clearer and purer, and even her cultivation advanced considerably.
All the world's great Daos were connected. Li Qingyuan believed that if the thinkers of the Hundred Schools had been born in the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths and possessed Spirit