Blessed with Heirs: My Harem Made Me Invincible

Chapter 6 A Verse That Shakes the Land

Theodore waved a hand dismissively. "Suit yourself. Business opportunities abound—though they do distract from cultivation."

Ethan leaned forward. "Theodore, could someone like me study the Confucian Order's cultivation methods?"

Theodore chuckled. "Naturally! Even inner disciples may study them, let alone former disciples like us. In truth, I practice the Order's Righteous Qi cultivation myself."

Ethan frowned. "Wouldn't Confucian methods conflict with our Stellar Ascent Sect's teachings?"

Theodore shook his head. "Not at all! They complement our practices. The only limitation is time—you can't cultivate both simultaneously."

Ethan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "In that case, I'm even more intrigued. I'll visit their academy today."

The Confucian Order—a scholarly sect renowned for its influence—sent teachers to the remotest villages, let alone bustling Astramere. Though the city housed a grand Confucian academy, Ethan had never crossed its threshold... until now.

Leaving Stellar Ascent Vineyard with daylight remaining, Ethan headed straight for the academy. Its massive gates stood open, revealing a ceaseless stream of visitors. He elbowed through the crowd, marveling at the pilgrimage-site bustle.

Following the flow, Ethan wove through the ancient halls. After exploring the public areas, he understood: most visitors came to venerate the sage's statue—believed to enhance scholarly fortune—while others purchased brushes, books, and scholarly trinkets from the thriving marketplace. No wonder the Order could educate the masses; this was a lucrative trade in wisdom.

A steady stream of visitors flocked to venerate the Confucian Sage, whose statue dominated the academy's central hall. Word was, paying respects here could boost one's literary luck and scholarly qi. Ethan smirked—this was just like those temple incense rackets back home, another cash grab with the academy raking in coin from selling prayer supplies.

The place also peddled premium scholar's treasures: the Four Treasures of the Study, rare books, and ornate decorations. This was clearly big business—a literary-industrial complex. No wonder the Confucian Order could afford their generous child-rearing policies. Their coffers overflowed from dominating the scholar's supply trade.

Ethan ambled through the grand halls, eventually purchasing a carved sandalwood Wenchang Pagoda ornament. But as he turned a corner, he stumbled upon a conspicuously vacant courtyard. While every other section buzzed with activity, this secluded annex stood eerily quiet despite its open gates. Above the entrance hung an ebony plaque bearing four gilded characters: Word-Carving Ink Studio.

Intrigued, Ethan stepped inside to find a gangly scholar in blue Confucian robes and traditional headscarf sprawled across an ornate writing desk. Dead to the world, drool dripped from his gaping mouth onto priceless parchment below. He didn't stir until Ethan knocked sharply on the lacquered surface.

The scholar jolted upright, bleary-eyed. "You've come to try Word-Carving?" he slurred excitedly, wiping his chin with his sleeve.

Ethan arched an eyebrow. "First—wanna clean up that mess?"

The young scholar finally noticed the small puddle of drool he'd left on the desk. Flushing crimson, he hastily grabbed a cloth to wipe it clean.

"My deepest apologies, good sir!" he stammered, visibly embarrassed. "That was most unbecoming. But you must understand - no one volunteers for shifts at the Word-Carving Ink Studio. I lost at finger-guessing games yesterday and drew the short straw. This place remains as deserted as an abandoned temple day after day."

Ethan chuckled warmly. "No offense taken. I've spent years cultivating within Stellar Ascent Sect's mountain gates and only recently arrived in Astramere. These secular matters remain quite foreign to me. Might you explain this studio's purpose?"

The scholar, remarkably patient, launched into detailed explanation. Ethan gradually understood - while ostensibly a place to leave literary works, this served as the academy's hunting ground for hidden talents among common folk.

"You may compose poetry or prose here - whatever your heart desires," the scholar continued with a wry smile. "But your brushwork must demonstrate true merit. Should it shine with value, the academy will reward you handsomely. However..." He hesitated. "For works lacking scholarly worth, we must charge five copper coins per sheet to cover materials."

For a cultivator like Ethan, this amounted to a trifling sum. But for peasants living hand to mouth, five coppers represented substantial hardship. Hence the studio's perpetual emptiness came as no surprise.

Ethan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Tell me, friend - who determines this acclaimed merit?" The scholar opened his mouth to reply, but Ethan pressed further: "Surely you don't expect people to accept your judgment at face value without question?"

To his surprise, the scholar said proudly, "My friend! Don't you know where you are? This is the sacred hall of the Confucian Order! Anything written here that has value will glow with magical light. Just look for the glow—that's all the proof we need!"

Ethan's curiosity sparked. "Then let me give it a try."

The scholar pushed ink and paper toward him. "Go ahead, my friend!"

Ethan picked up the brush, paused for just a heartbeat, then let the words flow:

Solitude on an Autumn Night

Tattered scrolls unrolled by lamplight glow,

Alone I sit counting stars through parted drapes;

Six folding screens frame autumn's fading light,

While insects chant their midnight vesper shapes.

Cuckoos weep blood on frost-bleached terrain,

Specters peer through windows at flickering flame;

Laughing skyward with blade unsheathed in disdain,

No more shall dusty tomes enslave this frame.

The words spilled forth from memories of another life. As the first characters took form, a faint golden light shimmered across the page. With each line, the glow intensified until—by the final stroke—the entire courtyard blazed with golden radiance that stopped passersby in their tracks.

"Valecross resonance! The poem resonates through Valecross!" the scholar shouted, shaking with excitement. "Please wait here, sir! I'll fetch the head scholar immediately!"

As the scholar dashed off, curious onlookers crowded the courtyard entrance, straining to see the spectacle. Stranded in the golden glow, Ethan stood alone in awkward silence.