Chapter 127: Mountaineering Thoughts Part
As if he had heard some interesting answer, Zhou Tieyi, whose clothes were also wet in the rain, laughed loudly and said to Wang Mingyi, "Now I believe you a little bit, but if you still only hate me, then I definitely don't believe you can beat me."

As he spoke, the students around him had already noticed that something was wrong.

Che Wenyuan, who was carried down by Wang Mingyi, had no breath left and had died quietly on this rainy night.

The dozen or so students who had followed Wang Mingyi to stop Che Wenyuan were even more furious, looking at Zhou Tieyi who was laughing non-stop with anger.

Many people clenched their fists and walked forward.

Zhou Tieyi was not afraid either. He looked at Zhang Shizhong, the chief priest, who was standing in the distance. "They are ignorant. Are you ignorant too? Since ancient times, people have never regretted their moves and have always been willing to accept defeat! Or do you also want to play a game with Ether Academy as the stakes?"

There was a sudden roar of thunder in the sky, and the snow-white sky cast a brilliant shadow behind Zhou Tieyi, illuminating half of the dark sky.

Under such divine power, even the students of Tai Academy who wanted to move forward had their hearts stop, and they stopped and looked up at the sky.

Zhang Shizhong said in a serious tone, "Stop and let him go."

The dozen or so students in the lead were stunned by Zhang Shizhong's words, but a few of them were still unconvinced and said, "A jester for all ages, a great harm to the country!"

As soon as these words came out, the already angry students of Tai Academy glared at Zhou Tieyi even more.

Zhou Tieyi didn't give in either. He walked back a few steps, took the spear from the bicycle frame, then turned around and kicked the student who had just scolded him.

He cannot continue to curse with this sentence, otherwise it will really cause civil unrest, and the problem will become complicated.

If it were in the past, Zhou Tieyi wouldn't care. At most he would just follow the emperor's wishes and raise his knife to kill.

But since he had promised his mother, he would take the blame for His Majesty and put the hatred on himself to prevent them from offending His Majesty and making the situation out of control.

Seeing Zhou Tieyi stepping on the student, the people around him clenched their fists and were ready to take action.

"Stop it all!"

Zhang Shizhong suddenly said angrily.

His skinny body seemed to contain thunder, which was not much weaker than the thunder in the sky, and it pressed the people around him so hard that they could not move at all.

This is the Taoism.

But the orthodox Zhou Tieyi was not afraid. He smiled and looked at the student he stepped on. "I, Zhou Tieyi, do things properly and honestly. I agree that I am a jester for all ages, but I will not accept that I am a great scoundrel for the country!"

The student who was stepped on was short and stocky. Zhou Tieyi didn't use much force on his foot, but he was still able to speak, "If you are not a scourge to the country, then what are you?!"

Zhou Tieyi raised his eyebrows, looked up at the sky and thought for a while, "The Eternal Jester..."

He lowered his head and laughed, "The peerless poet! The eternal jester, the peerless poet, I think this is appropriate, what do you think?"

Although the students around were suppressed by the orthodoxy and could not move, they all showed an incredible sense of absurdity.

Among the hundreds of schools of thought, only the three schools of Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism are considered to be proficient in poetry.

Although poetry is a minor art, sages said that poetry is used to express one's aspirations, and it has always been loved by Confucians.

The Book of Songs is one of the Five Classics. In this respect, even Buddhism and Taoism cannot compare with it.

How dare Zhou Tieyi, a jester in the court, say that he is the peerless poet? !
Zhou Tieyi smiled.

He is the son of a general. Even if he did the right thing today, killing Che Wenyuan was wrong in the eyes of these young students.

This is an enemy-self contradiction. This enemy-self contradiction will inevitably make these students lose their minds and do stupid things.

It would be better to transform it into an internal contradiction now.

Don’t you students at Tai Academy like literary gatherings?

In every literary gathering in the future, I want you to remember that I, Zhou Tieyi, the warrior and jester in your eyes, will always be superior to you.

You can't get rid of my identity as the peerless poet.

Either I don't want the Confucian idea of ​​using poetry to express one's aspirations, or I will be one of you in the future!
"Not convinced? How about my poem "My Thoughts After Dreaming of Wandering in the Purple Heavenly Daoist Palace and Climbing the Thirty-Six-Story Treasure Hall to Meet the Sun and Moon Dao Master and Grant Me Immortality"?"

Zhou Tieyi's voice was clear and penetrated the rain so that everyone could hear it.

The expressions of the Confucian scholars changed drastically, and even Zhang Shizhong couldn't help but sigh.

How could this poem be bad?

It is no exaggeration to say that it is unparalleled.

Wang Mingyi suddenly said, "If you are treacherous and flattering to the emperor, no matter how good the poem is, it will lose its original flavor."

Zhou Tieyi smiled and said, "That one is not good, how about this one?"

Holding a gun, he walked through the crowd who were frozen in place and came to the huge gatepost of Taixue Academy. He used the gun as a pen and wrote words like dragons and snakes.

"Thousand pointing fingers, head bowed as a willing ox."

His handwriting was free and easy, and after he finished writing, he was very satisfied with himself. He laughed and walked back to the car, saying as he walked, "Which of you can surpass me in poetry? Let's talk about other things later. I, Zhou Tieyi, will definitely be the immortal poet of all time!"

The spear in his hand rang by itself, and his spirituality had already sprouted with the help of the Tai Academy's century-old cultural energy.

The students of the surrounding Tai Academy stood there, watching Zhou Tieyi write this poem. They were angry at first. How dare he write on the gate plaque of Tai Academy? !

But after reading this sentence, everyone's previous anger turned into complicated. They watched Zhou Tieyi wearing brocade clothes and a golden crown, and got on the carriage with a big laugh.

This half of the poem is kept.

They, the Confucians, will either stop playing with poetry in the future, or they will just have to pinch their noses and acknowledge Zhou Tieyi's unrivaled poetic talent.

Although Jueying did not understand poetry, he was able to sense the changes in the mood of the people around him. Without Zhou Tieyi's instructions, he neighed to the sky, pranced proudly on his horse, rushed into the rain, and headed to a higher level.

Zhang Shizhong looked at the carriage where Zhou Tieyi was leaving, then looked at the stone pillars of Taixue Academy, stroking each word with his hand.

He knew what Zhou Tieyi meant. He wanted to take the blame for the emperor and force his way into their literary circle so that they would have to recognize this "peerless poet".

Such poetry is like a sharp blade or a spear, which kills all the poetry of the past few decades without leaving a single trace.

In this way, the students of Taixue Academy must recognize Zhou Tieyi as a "different kind of literati". Since they are all literati, many of their methods cannot be used because those are ways to deal with outsiders.

Well, Zhang Shizhong thought about it seriously, well, nodded and said, "This poem is enough to express my aspirations. Leave it on the door. If anyone of you can surpass him in talent and knowledge in the future, go and trouble him, otherwise you will be laughed at by the world!"

The students of Tai Academy couldn't believe it, but finally bowed their heads one by one. They were not as good as others in skills, and their favorite part was poetry. Who could they blame?
Wang Mingyi also turned his back to the teacher and looked at the poem in silence.

Teacher, will I really win in ten years?

(End of this chapter)