Where is this bridge?

Since he said he did not understand, Niu Youdao pretended not to understand either. Otherwise, it would be rather far-fetched for a country bumpkin from a mountain village to understand all this.

After chatting idly for a while longer, Niu Youdao returned to the courtyard.

He wandered around the courtyard for a bit before entering Peach Blossom Hall and sitting down on a meditation cushion. He casually pulled over a small basket used for miscellaneous items. Inside were needles, thread, scissors, and the like, along with two Bronze Mirrors. They seemed to be ordinary household objects, with nothing conspicuously unusual about them. However, one of the Bronze Mirrors was the one he had brought with him.

Dongguo Haoran had entrusted it to him so solemnly, yet he had stored it so casually. This was simply a case of the safest place being the most dangerous place. If he hid it too carefully and someone found it, that would instead arouse suspicion.

He toyed with the Bronze Mirror, turning it over in his hands. He was somewhat puzzled about what he should do with it.

Dongguo Haoran's instructions were clearly no trivial matter. The man had entrusted him with something concerning his very life. Having come from the martial world in his previous life and made a name for himself there, Niu Youdao naturally had the word "honor" in his heart. Yet Tang Mu was dead, and Dongguo Haoran had solemnly warned him that the item could only be handed to Tang Mu and that no third party could know about it. This put him in a difficult position.

He also hesitated over whether to hand it to the Shangqing Sect. His hesitation was certainly due in part to Dongguo Haoran's instructions, but it was also because the Shangqing Sect had treated him rather poorly, keeping him under house arrest to this day. Thus, he wanted to study the Bronze Mirror carefully and see whether he could uncover its secrets before deciding, depending on the circumstances, whether to hand it over to the Shangqing Sect.

However, he had already tried roasting it over fire, soaking it in water, exposing it to light, striking it and listening to the sound, and various other methods, yet he had been unable to discern anything unusual. The Bronze Mirror seemed to be a seamless whole. Judging from the sound it made when struck, there was no sign of any mechanism inside.

He now somewhat suspected that the Bronze Mirror might be something like a token.

He examined it over and over, but it remained the same old thing. He could not find anything. Niu Youdao bared his teeth in frustration and casually tossed the Bronze Mirror back into the small basket.

Afterward, he did some routine physical training: splitting his legs while bearing weight, pulling on a rope to swing and flip over a beam, and the like. He was not trying to develop the courage of a brawling brute, but to train his body's flexibility. Based on his experience in the martial world, he knew very well that unlocking more angles for using his limbs in combat and self-defense could save his life at a critical moment when he needed to protect himself. Whether it was the news he had heard in Xiaomiao Village or in the Shangqing Sect, everything proved that this world was in troubled times. Whatever the future held, he would do his best to make preparations before the storm arrived.

Cultivation was divided into civil and martial paths. Aside from cultivating techniques and the physical body, he took advantage of his free time to dig out the brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone in the residence and practice the Small Seal Script commonly used in this world, copying from various books. For someone like him, a "seasoned archaeologist," recognizing Small Seal Script posed no problem at all. His calligraphy with a brush was also quite good, but he had never seriously used a brush to write Small Seal Script. The strokes moved differently, so he needed practice.

Fortunately, his foundation in brush calligraphy had been solid. After the initial distortions and awkward forms, his writing had already begun to look quite presentable after little more than a month.

A brazier sat beside the writing desk. Whenever he finished writing, he burned his own calligraphy.

The Shangqing Sect supplied everything he needed for practicing calligraphy in abundance. This could also be considered one of the benefits of having made Song Yanqing happy.

Under house arrest to this day, he had no other choice given his current abilities. Still, he arranged each day so fully that it was quite fulfilling...

The next day, a brand-new reclining chair, still giving off the scent of wood, was placed beneath the peach tree. One glance was enough to tell that it had just been made.

Chen Guishuo pointed at the reclining chair and wagged his eyebrows at Niu Youdao. "Junior Brother, the reclining chair you wanted has arrived."

Niu Youdao had not expected him to work so quickly. It was probably related to the fact that Chen Guishuo had had the chair made for his own use. He clasped his hands and smiled. "Thank you, Senior Brother Chen."

Song Yanqing had also come along this time, after being absent for quite a while. He seemed to be in a rather good mood. The moment he saw Niu Youdao, his face broke into a broad smile, and the amusement in it was impossible to hide, carrying a hint of wickedness. Patting Niu Youdao on the shoulder, he asked, "Junior Brother, how have you been living here?"

Niu Youdao said, "It's been all right, all right. The food is ten thousand times better than what I ate in the village. It's just a bit stifling being confined here and unable to go out."

Song Yanqing chuckled. "You've only been here a short while. First, calm your heart. How can you cultivate if you can't quiet your mind? Don't worry. You'll have your chance to go out in the future." With that, he clasped his hands behind his back and walked to the cliffside to gaze at Shangqing Palace across the way. His face was filled with beautiful longing, though from time to time it shifted into a frown of contemplation. At last, he sighed lightly. "What a pity it isn't in the Capital City!"

Niu Youdao went over curiously. "Senior Brother Song, what's wrong with the Capital City?"

Song Yanqing sighed blankly. "This wilderness cannot compare with the Capital City's flourishing world of poetry and song."

Niu Youdao was instantly baffled. Poetry and song? You're a cultivator, yet you're sighing over poetry and song. What's that supposed to mean?

The corners of Chen Guishuo's lips lifted. He was secretly amused. He and Xu Yitian were essentially Song Yanqing's followers, so they understood the situation all too well. Song Yanqing had liked Tang Yi for years, while Tang Yi was fond of poetry and song. To please her, whenever a good poem emerged in the Capital City, someone would immediately send it to him, and he would present it to Tang Yi for her appreciation. This time, Song Yanqing had evidently gotten some kind of wire crossed. Presumably, no good material had arrived from the Capital City for quite some time, and his hands had begun to itch. He had written a poem himself and asked Chen Guishuo and Xu Yitian how it was. How could the two of them say it was bad? Naturally, they had praised it. As a result, Song Yanqing had happily delivered it to Tang Yi. Chen Guishuo did not know exactly what had happened, but Song Yanqing had returned looking rather unhappy and had cursed the two of them out to vent his anger. It was not hard to guess what had happened.

Thus, he understood Song Yanqing's mood especially well. If they had been in the Capital City, that flourishing land of poetry and song, then with the power of the Song Family, finding a skilled writer to compose good poetry and pass it off as his own masterpiece to please Tang Yi would have been easy. But in this quiet place of cultivation, that was difficult. His hands had itched so badly that he had embarrassed himself in front of Tang Yi.

Coming back to himself, Song Yanqing seemed unwilling to say more about the matter. He turned and entered the courtyard, strolling around and inspecting everything.

He was responsible for watching over Niu Youdao, so it was impossible for him to leave him completely unattended. Coming by occasionally to check on things and prevent trouble was only reasonable.

Niu Youdao, still outside, asked Chen Guishuo, "Why has Senior Brother Song become so interested in poetry and song?"

Chen Guishuo's mouth was itching to speak. He lowered his voice and offered a hint. "Our sect once produced an astonishingly talented figure. Not only was his strength famous throughout the cultivation world, but he was also extraordinarily gifted, with a mastery of poetry and song. Senior Sister Tang stayed by his side from a young age and could be considered his student. She was steeped in elegance and gradually came to love poetry and song as well!"

Niu Youdao suddenly understood. So Song Yanqing was trying to win a beauty's favor. At the same time, he was curious about the person Chen Guishuo had mentioned. "May I ask which senior Tang Senior Sister studied under?"

At the mention of that senior, Chen Guishuo froze. A clear trace of wariness flashed through his eyes, as if he had realized that he should not speak carelessly. He glared at Niu Youdao, seemingly warning him not to ask what he should not, then shut his mouth and hurried into the courtyard.

Niu Youdao's eyes shifted, and he quickly followed him inside.

After making a round, Song Yanqing gave Chen Guishuo a few instructions. Then, with one hand behind his back, he was about to leave when Niu Youdao hurried after him and called, "Senior Brother Song, when we were in the village, my teacher often wrote poetry too. I remember some of it, but I don't know whether it was any good. Why don't you help me appreciate it?"

Song Yanqing did not even bother turning his head. He kept walking and replied casually, "What good things could a down-and-out scholar from the mountains possibly write?" He gave a mocking laugh, his tone filled with disdain.

A down-and-out scholar from the mountains? Niu Youdao's heart tightened. It seemed the Shangqing Sect had already investigated his background thoroughly. He himself had only learned that he had once had a down-and-out scholar as a teacher when he had pried basic information out of the villagers in Xiaomiao Village.

Yet why had he endured every hardship to come here? He had come for Dongguo Haoran's terrifying abilities, not to waste away under house arrest. He very much wanted to obtain the Shangqing Sect's cultivation techniques. Unfortunately, after being placed under house arrest, he had never found an opening to make a move. Now that one had finally appeared, how could Niu Youdao let it slip by? He called out, "My teacher said he once traveled through the Capital City, and some love poems he wrote won the favor of quite a few women."

Upon hearing this, Song Yanqing slowly stopped at the entrance, just as he was about to leave, and turned around.

Chen Guishuo shot Niu Youdao a swift glance. A trace of surprise flashed in his eyes. Niu Youdao was clearly picking up on his earlier hint and following the thread. This kid looked young but was surprisingly shrewd. He was not simple!

"Oh? What poems did your teacher write? Why don't you recite some for me to appreciate?" Song Yanqing seemed to have taken a little interest after turning around.

Niu Youdao immediately returned to Peach Blossom Hall and knelt beside the writing desk. He ground the ink with a few drops of water, pulled out a sheet of paper, laid it down, pressed both sides with paperweights, dipped his brush in ink, and began writing one Small Seal Script character after another.

"Not bad. You've clearly read books and learned your characters. Your writing is rather presentable." Song Yanqing walked over and stood beside the desk, giving him a rare word of praise. His eyes traced the writing as he slowly read aloud, "Slim clouds display their ingenuity, shooting stars carry their longing; the Silver River stretches far away, crossed in secret. When golden wind meets jade dew just once, it surpasses countless meetings in the mortal world..." By the time he reached those lines, his eyes had suddenly lit up. He might not have been able to write any great poetry himself, but he possessed some ability to appreciate good poetry. At the very least, he could tell good from bad.

When Niu Youdao stopped writing, Song Yanqing could no longer restrain himself. He quickly shoved aside the paperweights, lifted the sheet covered in ink, shook it in his hands, and blew on the wet ink before eagerly continuing, "Tender feelings are like water, the promised meeting a dream; how could one bear to look back at the road returning from Magpie Bridge? If two hearts remain together for a long, long time, what matter the hours spent morning and night... If two hearts remain together for a long, long time, what matter the hours spent morning and night..." He truly recited the final line again and again. In the end, he sighed and shook his head with a blissful look. "A fine poem! What a fine poem!" He felt that it had been written especially for him.

Niu Youdao secretly laughed, set down his brush, and stood up, pretending not to understand. "It's a fine poem?"

Song Yanqing nodded. His eyes remained fixed on the writing as he read it over and over. Suddenly, he looked at Niu Youdao in confusion and asked, "What does Magpie Bridge mean? Where is this bridge?"

"Uh..." Niu Youdao was rendered speechless. It seemed the story of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl did not exist here. Thus, he said blankly, "My teacher wrote it. I don't know where Magpie Bridge is either."

Song Yanqing thought about it and decided that made sense. He then tilted his head toward the dumbfounded Chen Guishuo and gestured, driving him out.

With no one else present, Song Yanqing smiled warmly at Niu Youdao. "You said your teacher often wrote this kind of poetry?"

Niu Youdao thought, I have a whole bellyful of them. You can have as many as you want. He nodded. "I think so."

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