Du Shijie and the other juniors saw this scene and could not help covering their mouths as they chuckled.
After so many days in the Cangming Mountain Range, they had already seen far too much.
They had long since stopped finding it strange.
"Life at its proudest must be enjoyed to the fullest; do not let a golden goblet stand empty beneath the moon. Fine poetry, truly fine poetry!" Even Zhan Zuixin could not help being drawn in by the timeless verse Qin Shaofeng had casually recited.
He thought, No wonder this kid dared call himself the Poetic Sword Immortal. Mad as he is, his literary talent is truly formidable.
What a pity!
If he were not so deranged, then with such literary talent alone, even without any cultivation, he would likely have become famous throughout the world, would he not?
Little did he know.
While he was pondering this in his heart, Qin Shaofeng was repeatedly apologizing inwardly: Master Li, please do not blame me. Master Li, please do not blame me. This character of mine is adapted from a game, not meant to slander you. Please, do not hold it against me. Do not blame me, do not blame me.
That Master Li had been a figure from several centuries ago, so naturally Qin Shaofeng could not know what he looked like after drinking too much.
But he dared to guarantee that it was absolutely not this sort of crazed state he was currently in.
If that man's fans saw this, would they not curse him until he was drenched in blood?
I'd better not smear that man's name.
It was all the game's fault. Yes, that was right.
While he continued apologizing in his heart, his hands never stopped moving, and he still drank like an ox.