Sang Sang picked up a bowl of hot and sour noodles that had not been touched and looked at the thin slices of beef floating inside. She thought to herself, "Why are you sneering at food?" Would you eat something like this in the Wei Kingdom?

All carriages rented by students of the academy will have a distinctive sign on them that indicates this. Needless to say, you need to provide documentation for this. Ning Que walked through the south gate of Chang'an and walked towards the academy at the foot of the mountain.

Dawn had just broken.

As he stepped into the classroom, there was an inevitable commotion. Whether they were close friends or not, students came to him after he returned from sick leave to ask about his health. Ning Que smiled at everyone and arrested them at the same time. He realized that in addition to Chu Youxian, who really cared about, Situ Yilan and Jin Wucai were also genuinely worried.

The theme of the day was literature, and the topic of their discussion was the literature of the Southern Jin Kingdom and the appreciation and analysis of various works. Ning Que, who is good at calligraphy, is naturally interested in this. However, both in his past life and now, he is just excited by looking at the characters. The characters that make up the sentences and lines of the poems and works make him cry out of boredom. He listened half-heartedly to the class, and when the bell rang, he politely answered the instructor, and then rushed out of the classroom and towards the cafeteria.

He ate two lunches and walked three laps around the wetlands as usual. The other disciples who had been watching him couldn't suppress their curiosity, thinking to themselves, Third Young Master Xie had vomited blood all night and had given up entering the second floor, while Ning Que had returned to the academy as if nothing had happened after being seriously ill for several days.

At the door of the old library, Chu Youxian stared at his face worriedly and asked, "Are you still going upstairs?"

"Yes, I have to make up for lost time." He replied.

Chu Youxian shook his head helplessly. He looked at Ning Que like a madman and said, "Haven't you vomited enough?"

"I'm used to it."

Ning Que replied with a smile, and then was taken aback by his words. He wondered why the conversation seemed so familiar, especially his answers. He seems to have heard or read it somewhere.

He walked to the second floor, but was in no hurry to find the thin book on the shelf. Instead, he adjusted his student robes, calmly walked to the east window, and bowed respectfully to the female professor. He said softly, "The student is back."

The female professor looked up at him and asked, "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine." Ning Que touched his slightly chubby face and said, "Teacher, I'm worried." I apologize.

"I'm not very worried." She smiled, "I've been copying books on the second floor for seven years, and I'm used to the tranquility. But it's great to have someone who silently accompanies me in the silence.

Ning Que grinned, "I'll try to stay on the second floor for a while longer."

The female instructor smiled and waved her hand, ignoring him.

Ning Que respectfully clasped his hands together and turned to leave. He walked over to the bookshelf and picked up the thin book without looking. He is now familiar with the location of the book and can even find it blindfolded. It's a pity that he can never remember the contents of the book.

He sighed silently, opened the book, and took out the piece of paper he had stuck inside. He knew he must have left at that time in the book. He knew that these little tricks of his were in vain. He always reads this book for the first time.

His brow furrowed suddenly. He held up the piece of paper against the window and saw that it was covered in black markings. "Did I write that much last time?" He thought to himself.

He flipped the piece of paper to the back and saw someone writing it all over in small print. A person who meticulously writes information in small print. Each character is the size of a grain of rice, but swaggering and looking fulfilling.

Ning Que looked at the piece of paper in shock, and then read the message silently.

"Poor turf, don't believe the claim that the mountain you see is not a mountain. The object of existence is real. For example, the words in this book are more real than my pride and conceit at the moment.

"Just when the words reflect the light from the outside into your eyes,...... Light on paper is already an explanation. Your eyes see that it's another... Objectivity is like a beautiful naked woman. When you look at her and think about how beautiful she is, how much you want her...... It doesn't matter if she is a nun of the Xishan Divine Palace, Ye Hongyu, and the Great River Country.

A warm spring breeze swirls inside and outside the building. The sun went westward and turned golden and red. Male insects bathed in the rays of the setting sun begin to sing and flap their wings to show their strength to the opposite sex. When the breeze is strong, the singing stops. In the ears of these strong males, the sound of strong winds is like thunder.

In the building next to the bookshelf, Ning Que looked at the words on the paper and was shocked. He sat there like a statue for a long time. The little words on the paper were like thunder in his head, crumbling endlessly.

After a while, he opened the book with trembling fingers. His gaze landed lightly on the text, then looked away. The excitement surging inside him was almost irrepressible. With the help of words on paper, he can find out where the doorway is even if he doesn't know what's behind it.

After gradually calming down, Ning Que began to look at the words on the paper. He wondered who left such a comment. Who's solving his doubts? Who helps him behind the scenes? Why would this person do this?

He turned his head to look at the east window. The female instructor was still writing her lowercase script and didn't notice him at all. Ning Que looked at her figure, thinking about the words on the paper that disrespected women. He subconsciously shook his head. It is impossible for a female professor to write such foul language.

Could it be the instructor downstairs? Ning Que frowned in contemplation, but finally shook his head. Although that instructor had a good sense of humor, he was still a well-behaved person. If he wants to give him some pointers, he will do it directly, not through methods such as leaving a message.

Ning Que couldn't think of anyone who would leave a message, even if it was contemplative. He looked irritably out the window and listened to the male singing in the grass. He grinned self-deprecatingly. He thought that the person who left the message must be an old instructor who had not yet cultivated. Hehe, how angry Situ Yilan and the others would be if they saw the news!

The person who left the message likened the art of reading to one's attitude towards women. While this is downright obscenity, it's also easy to understand. If it weren't for that, Ning Que wouldn't have felt that he might have understood something. For him, the commenter deliberately used this method to advise him. After all, it is said that the path of cultivation is full of self-pollution. He had great respect for this person, and he thought that this person must be a genius in the cultivation technique.

Now that it had been confirmed that this person was a cultivation genius, Ning Que's attitude turned serious. He picked up "Qihai Snow Mountain" and the piece of paper, and walked towards the end of the bookshelf. He sat down in the sun, calmed himself down, and began to re-read the information.

Chen Pipi obviously underestimated Ning Que's comprehension ability. Although Ning Que did not write the last two paragraphs, he could understand what he wanted to say in the first few lines of objective truth and confusion of understanding. He didn't talk about extreme attitudes towards women.

"Don't try to understand. Don't think about it. Look at these words... Could this be the Rune Master's intention when he plagiarized the book? So what I had to do was look at the words instead of thinking about what they meant.

Ning Que knelt and looked at the book, thinking for a long time. These days, he's wasting a lot of energy trying to read the books here. He knew the effect of those words on his psyche. After comparing these methods, he realized that it was worth trying the methods of message leavers.

Just looking at a word or character that you already know and remember, but deliberately not thinking about it, or pretending to know what it means, or even really forgetting what it means, is a daunting task.

It's like a situation where you have to say you've never seen the big Chinese literati tree of your childhood when you hung out in the garden. Or you don't even know it's a Chinese literati tree. You have to forget all those years of playing under it, or the first kiss you gave under it. Who can do such a thing?

Ning Que didn't open the book, but stared at the piece of paper, a little uneasy. At the same time, his mind had flown out of the window and to another place, thinking about what to make of the words and ignoring their meaning.

Forget what we know... Who can do this?

The sun shimmered through the west window on his frowning brow. Suddenly, his brow raised, and a glint flashed in his eyes. He remembers the first words he learned when he first started learning calligraphy many years ago. He remembers writing these words many times with a calligraphy brush and branches.

This is the role of "Yong".