Gu Chi's curiosity had been piqued.
He sipped his tea, watching the wisps of steam curl upward. Flecks of light seemed to shimmer in his eyes, and he wore an easy, harmless smile. "...A Way of the Scholar that even you, Qi Yuanliang, say you 'dread'—I'd like to see it for myself. Its owner must be someone of no small renown?"
Qi Shan replied, "He's certainly no nobody."
"Who is he?"
Qi Shan said, "The man who destroyed your homeland."
Gu Chi fell silent.
After a long pause, he murmured, "So it was him... He swept through the northwestern states; 'no nobody' certainly doesn't describe him... But wasn't he supposed to have no Way of the Scholar?"
Not every Literary Scholar possessed a Way of the Scholar.
Its acquisition had little to do with the grade of one's Literary Heart or a scholar's innate talent. There was no pattern to it, and no way for human effort to influence it. Some heaven-gifted prodigies might spend their whole lives without finding their Way of the Scholar, while some of ordinary ability might wake from a drunken stupor one day and discover they had one.
Some scholars kept their Ways of the Scholar tightly under wraps, but others chose to reveal them and increase their leverage.
The man Qi Shan spoke of had once personally admitted that he had no Way of the Scholar. After all, whether he had one or not made no difference to his achievements.
"Young Master Shen had a saying that put it well: 'A scholar's mouth is a ghost's lie.'" Qi Shan rolled his eyes inwardly. He hadn't expected Gu Chi to believe that excuse. How could someone who had swept through the northwestern states, crossed wits with the Literary Heart strategists of various countries on the