Saving System: Calm Down, My Fleeing Host!

Chapter 282 - 274: Disarray in the Snow

Watching his students praise others, Mr. Gui felt a bit sour inside, "It’s just average!"

"Can you make better poetry, sir?"

"Of course!" After Mr. Gui said that, he saw Cheng Jia blinking his big eyes and staring at him intently. He coughed and explained, "Creating poetry requires atmosphere and inspiration. It can’t be done on demand."

"But didn’t this big brother just do it?" Cheng Jia pointed at Xu Zhilin, looking doubtful, as if to say: Really, sir, at your age, you can’t compare with a big brother?

Cough, cough, cough!

This left Mr. Gui unable to hold it together.

Just when he wanted to lecture the cheeky kid for embarrassing him in front of outsiders.

Yang Fan and Xu Zhilin also turned their heads early on, thinking that since the other party was a teacher, hearing the child’s words would likely embarrass him. Xu Zhilin also wanted to explain that poetry isn’t easy; it requires a clear state of mind and an overflow of inspiration. He was just moved by the sight he saw earlier.

Then they heard the little boy say in all seriousness, "But my sister can spontaneously create poetry!"

The two people, feeling defeated, "..."

As if the little guy thought they hadn’t been hit enough, he continued, "Not only can my sister spontaneously create poetry, but she can also play poetry-linking games."

Initially half-believing and half-doubting, Mr. Gui now believed the little fellow was boasting.

Being able to spontaneously create poetry was already remarkable, let alone playing poetry-linking, which was a whole other level of difficulty.

Xu Zhilin, across from them, was utterly amazed. The little boy was talking about his sister, right? If she’s a girl, it’s unlikely even the noble women in the Capital City could spontaneously create poetry, much less play poetry-linking games.

He also began to suspect that the little boy was bragging or perhaps being misled by his sister.

Seeing the teacher’s darkened expression, Cheng Jia guessed the teacher might doubt he was telling the truth, so he quickly defended, "Really, if you don’t believe me, I’ll recite it for you."

Without waiting for the teacher’s reaction, he began.

A clear and ringing voice rang out in the half-lit sky:

"The lush grass on the plain, flourishes and withers every year. Wildfires can’t destroy it completely; the spring breeze brings it back to life.

To live is to be grand; to die is to be heroic. To this day, thinking of Xiang Yu, refusing to retreat across the river.

The east wind fills the world; my poor home has no spring. Passing beneath carrying firewood, the swallow’s call seems to mock.

Everyone suffers the summer heat; I love the long summer days. The south wind blows gently, bringing a slight cool to the halls.

The cool autumn night, flute echoes, flowing winds with harmony unmatched. Bold melodies at times, others tender and desolate..."

As Cheng Jia recited, the two were astonished; this... truly was a poetry-linking game.

And each poem had unique charm. They had never heard similar verses before, leaving no chance that these could be borrowed lines from others.

Carefully savoring the poems’ meanings, both of them were immersed.

Inside the tent, Cheng Xiaoyuan perked up her ears, "Why do I hear my little brother’s voice?"

Cheng Xiaoxiao naturally heard it too; her hearing was several times better than that of ordinary humans. The loud opening lines of "The lush grass on the plain, flourishes and withers every year," were poems she could recite when she was just a few years old, engraved into her bones and impossible to forget.

"It is indeed him." Could the little brother be showing off his literary talent?

Seeing that the host realized she had been tricked, the system laughed heartily, "That’s right, host, your little brother sold you out, claiming you can spontaneously create poetry, even play poetry-linking games. He’s so proud; if he had a tail, it would be wagging up to the sky."

Cheng Xiaoxiao rubbed her forehead, regretting deeply her one misstep!

During their journey to escape, there’s bound to be boredom, so Cheng Xiaoxiao taught a few little kids to play the idiom-linking game. One time, without realizing it, they were turning it into a poetry-linking game. She got a little carried away then, not expecting the little tyke to have such a good memory.

She wasn’t some poet or great Confucian scholar who could write such classic verses. Those were the accumulation of cultural foundation by wise men from ancient times to now, not poems created overnight.

This burden was too big for her to carry as a laborer.

She put down her work, handed it to Xiaoyuan, and hurried out of the tent.

Upon seeing her, Cheng Jia cheerfully ran up, "Sister, sister, Aunt asked me to call you for lunch."

Now the little fellow remembered the main task and dashed off, leaving the stunned behind, unaware of the shock they were in.

"To live is to be grand; to die is to be heroic! What a poem, what a poem." Xu Zhilin mumbled, deeply moved by the heroism in this poem. Such a great poem, he didn’t expect it to come from the hands of a young woman. Indeed, a heroine is not inferior to men.

Cheng Xiaoxiao awkwardly touched her nose, "Um, this, big brother, I didn’t write that poem; it was someone else, someone else, really!"

"But sister, you said it was your impromptu creation at the time!" Cheng Jia looked puzzled. Why would such a talented sister deny her own work?

As Cheng Xiaoxiao was feeling embarrassed from being exposed by her younger brother, the man asked, "If it wasn’t the young lady who wrote it, then may I ask which master is the author?"

Cheng Xiaoxiao was stunned, which master?

Could she say many masters? The poets belonged to different dynasties, each with its distinct style. How was she supposed to explain?

In truth, if she claimed they were all her creations, she wouldn’t need to explain, but that would raise even more questions and flaws. Many classic poems, she only vaguely understood their meanings. What intended thematic context, the historical background, the social critiques in certain words—all had been forgotten and returned to her teachers.

The simple folks of Qingshan Village might trust it as a divine teaching since they wouldn’t understand, but these scholarly men, specialized in academic research, were not so easily deceived.

Thus, telling one lie requires countless more to cover it. Is it not a bottomless pit?

"I read it in an ancient book, but the master didn’t leave a name, so I don’t know." Cheng Xiaoxiao barely managed to explain.

"Then may I ask which ancient book?"

"This..." Did she have to come up with a random book title again? The incident last time when her second brother caught her exaggerations was still fresh in her memory, suddenly making her quite nervous.

Seeing that she hesitated, unable to provide a proper explanation, everyone became more certain of their suspicions, believing that the little girl was modest and deliberately concealing her talents.

Cheng Xiaoxiao hadn’t thought it through yet, but the person opposite spoke, "I understand now; the young lady is hiding among us common people, admirable, admirable."

??

What hiding among the people?

Mr. Gui added, "Crafty girl, usually you don’t show off, but you hid it well!"

"I’m not..."

"No need to explain. Since the message has been delivered, let’s go back and practice our writing." With that, he looked at Cheng Jia, "Let’s go!" He had no intention of staying here to be humiliated; assigning more homework was what a teacher should do.

Unaware of the trouble he was in, Cheng Jia sweetly replied, "Yes, Mr. Gui."

He then lifted his head, letting go of the arm he was holding onto, "Sister, you need to hurry, or the porridge will be cold and not taste good."

He then hopped along cheerfully, following Mr. Gui.

Leaving someone to be disoriented in the snowy wasteland.