"Young friend, wake up."
Feng Jizi flicked his finger, sending a wisp of breeze into Liu Zheng's nostril.
"Phew~"
Liu Zheng opened his eyes, cold sweat pouring from his pores, thick as mud.
"How did it feel to be roasted by your own life flame?"
Feng Jizi asked with a smile.
"Awful. It reminded me of a line of poetry."
He shook his head.
"Oh? What poem?"
Feng Jizi asked curiously.
"Only the cold moon and warm sun remain, to sear away the span of human life."
Liu Zheng recited.
"The sun and moon alternate, yet it uses the word 'sear.' What a strange and uncanny poem. Who wrote it?"
Feng Jizi could not help asking.
Given Liu Zheng's ability to write Spring Festival couplets, Feng Jizi naturally knew that Liu Zheng had not written that line.
"It was written by Li He, a poet of the Tang dynasty. His nickname was the 'Poetry Ghost.'"
"Poetry Ghost, Poetry Ghost... Mm, it truly suits him. That later generations could produce such a man and such poetry proves that the literary lineage of Huaxia never died out. Good, good."
Feng Jizi sighed emotionally.
"Senior, I've actually written a few poems myself. Want me to recite them for you?"
Liu Zheng grew interested as well.
"Mm... Let's see what our ancestors bestowed upon us instead."
Feng Jizi said, his gaze flickering.
Forcing himself to praise Spring Festival couplets was one thing. Forcing himself to praise poetry would be far too cruel to an upright man like him.
"All right."
Liu Zheng regretfully picked up the jade bamboo from the ground.
"Huh?"
He cried out in surprise, because no item description appeared.
"Why did you cry out, young friend?"
"I have a method of appraisal, but I can't identify this item's origins."
Liu Zheng