Chapter 59: Picking Water Chestnuts, Thin Words Pick Them

  "I understand now, this is a boundless sea of humanity!" Liu Yi suddenly enlightened.

  Even Liu Yi felt that after saying this sentence, a ray of light descended from the long river of humanity, directly piercing through.

  Rumble...

  Originally only a thin layer covering the bottom of the spiritual pool, the divine power suddenly surged up by a large margin, occupying about one-tenth of the spiritual pool.

  Even for myself, over this period of time, some turbulent fortunes have also become more stable.

  Alas, in this world, the human way and the divine way have not yet been separated. Moreover, Liu Yi has read some of the Confucian classics of this world, which are indistinguishable from those of the Taoist school.

  Now, this small land deity has spoken a thread of human truth, and is able to stir up the power of humanity.

  He can imagine that as Yu Shu goes out and publicizes himself, his own gains will become more and more.

  When one gains the recognition of those truly great Confucians, and even the approval of the mainstream Confucian school, one's aura will be thoroughly stabilized. Even someone like General Duan Yi would have to think twice before trying to move against oneself!

  On the third day, Yu Shu was seen sitting on an ox cart, slowly leaving Fengli. Liu Yi let out a slight sigh of relief, all the cards he had prepared for so long had been played.

  With Qi Sheng's help in spreading the word, Yu Shu's moving story of divine medicine has slowly gotten out. This greatly increased Yu Shu's reputation, and he was no longer an unknown figure.

  Just hope he can grasp the opportunity and spread his own reputation.

  This hand is played out, Liu Yi's hands are now empty of any remaining cards. All he can do now is wait...

  The rice is still several months away from being ripe. However, this is precisely the most critical moment for him. Now, all he can hope for is that Qi Sheng's move comes as late as possible.

  However, the initiative of this matter has never been in his hands. It also made Liu Yi have no bottom line at all. Although these waiting days were very distressing, Liu Yi still pressed down the worries in his heart. Every day he should do what he did, and he didn't mess up his footsteps.

  On this day, Liu Yi came out of the spiritual realm early in the morning and glanced at the horizon. He saw a white mist on the horizon, like a sea of clouds slowly moving towards Fenglai Mountain.

  With just one glance, Liu Yi was almost stunned. This aura was naturally invisible to the naked eye of ordinary people and could only be seen through spiritual eyes. Although it was just white energy, the entire accumulation was like a mountain, like a sea. It was simply enormous and unimaginable!

  What kind of breath is this? How can it be so vast? If it can be transformed in an instant, will it transform directly into light red or deep red. Or even transform directly into...

  In short, Liu Yi saw it. Immediately notify Zhao Cheng. This person has also read a few days of books, although not many books have been read, but the depth is quite deep, and the spiritual orifice on the top of the head has already opened, which can communicate with ghosts and gods. Although not as good as Zhang Wangshi, it is self-divine power to transform the soul, with a natural affinity. However, it is enough to take over the witch's blessing! Moreover, Zhao Cheng is also clever and capable, much stronger than Zhang Wangshi.

  Zhao Cheng sent out a few people, following Liu Yi's directions, to investigate. Soon, there was news transmitted back.

  "On the way, I saw an old man riding in a cow-drawn carriage. He wore a high hat and wide sleeves, clearly a Confucian scholar. The driver was also dressed in black with a high hat, probably his junior disciple!"

  After hearing this news, Liu Yi closed his eyes and meditated for a moment, with a hint of joy in his eyes.

  I understand now. This aura, like a sea of clouds, must be coming from this person! This old man is definitely a great Confucian scholar! And the kind that spends his whole life not entering officialdom, a recluse!

  This majestic aura is as vast and profound as the sea of clouds, which is the old man's own cultivation. It is also the blessing of his numerous disciples and students who are spread all over.

  Liu Yixin said that such a person is not worthy of being an official. If he were to enter the government, the court would not be able to offer him a position higher than fifth or sixth rank, and it would be impossible for him to take office.

  After the death of this great Confucian, relying on such a vast and powerful aura, he transformed into a local deity, which was easy to do. At the very least, it would be at the level of a city god.

  "This great Confucian scholar certainly wouldn't come for no reason," Liu Yizhong thought to himself. It seemed that the bait he had put out had finally hooked a big fish.

  Although this old man himself was not enough to protect Liu Yi, but it's a good start!

  With joy in his heart, he passed down a few orders to Zhao Cheng to prepare. In his original world, Liu Yi also knew a thing or two about how local officials should entertain their superiors.

  The big Confucian is still far away, and the cow cart is moving slowly. It's probably going to be close to noon before it arrives. There is enough time for Liu Yi to make arrangements.

  Then, people from several villages took action. They swept and buried all the garbage inside and outside the village, cleaning it up thoroughly, making sure that every place was refreshed. With a few more arrangements, when the great scholar arrived, what he would see would be a beautiful landscape of fertile soil.

  Then Liu Yi began preparing several spells.

  Last time when several people from Qingyang Jiao came, Liu Yi could only personally chase and check.

  But now that I have become a ghost god summoned by Chi Xiao Fu, things are much simpler.

  As his mind concentrated, in the spiritual pool, a divine power surged forth. Amidst the flames, it transformed into an ancient bronze mirror with rust spots.

  Then several hand seals were pinched, and a few rays of light shot over. On the bronze mirror, a green light sank into the ground, and the surface of the mirror revealed the terrain of mountains and rivers.

  Upon closer inspection, a mountain spring is seen flowing down from the mountainside, forming a pond about half an acre in size. Dragonflies flit across the water's surface. There is also an irrigation canal that channels this pool of water into nearby fields.

  "This mountain spring water is excellent, rich in spiritual energy." Liu Yixing thought to himself that the rice grown with this water would certainly be extremely delicious.

  Before long, it was noon, and in the treasure mirror, a cow cart finally appeared, creaking along the country road. On the cart sat two Confucian scholars dressed in black robes and high hats.

  From a distance, he saw in the fields, joyful voices and laughter, singing together, echoing far into the great scholar's ears.

  "Gathering the duckweed, softly speaking of gathering it. Gathering the duckweed, softly speaking of having it. Gathering the duckweed, softly speaking of taking it. Gathering the duckweed..."

  The great Confucian heard this, straightened his clothes and hat, stood up solemnly, held the side of the carriage, and listened with a serious expression.

  The one driving next to him was actually a fellow disciple of the great Confucian, and upon seeing him, he said: "Master, this is just a rustic song from the fields, why be so solemn?"

  To hold the reins is a ceremonial gesture, it is the dignified etiquette when riding in a carriage.

  The great Confucian said with a straight face: "I am not here for the singing, but for the joy!"

  That disciple blinked, somewhat puzzled. But then the great scholar said: "Nowadays this world is full of hardships for the common people. Along our journey, wherever we see fields, farmers are barely clothed, and even when planting seeds, their faces are filled with sorrow. It's just as the saying goes: 'In spring, one grain of millet is sown, in autumn, ten thousand grains are harvested.' Yet, there's no idle land in the four seas, and still farmers die of starvation. At this time, what can be sung about? Even if there were songs, they would only be sad songs!"