Deducing Godhood from the Fetal Stage

Chapter 33 Xuanjing Divine Lord

"I bow my head and think of my hometown."

After Lecturer Wang finished reciting the poem, a tremendous sense of melancholy suddenly settled in the hearts of everyone in the classroom, and its lingering resonance remained in the ink painting for a long time.

In the classroom, many students had already closed their eyes, their faces showing expressions of sadness or longing.

Some even had tears in their eyes, as if they had become the poet who had been away from home for many years, having achieved nothing and unable to return home in glory.

"I...I'm from Nazca. My mom works hard every day to support me to study at Jiangda University on our home planet. To earn money to pay for my tuition and reduce her burden, I stay in Jiangcheng to work during holidays. I miss her so much."

"Good brother, study hard, you'll definitely amount to something!"

The roommate next to him sighed and hugged the person, but his own eyes were also filled with sadness as if he was thinking of some painful memory.

"In this world, it's incredibly difficult to rise above others through education. Where is home, and when will I be able to return?"

Someone raised an indignant question.

"calm,"

The Li Bai then spoke, but his voice was a clear, cold female voice: "Please carefully comprehend the artistic conception."

The voice instantly brought them back to reality. They were not there to share the poet's sentiments, but rather to use the poet's "meaning" to comprehend their own "literary spirit."

They all closed their eyes, trying to capture the essence of "raising one's head to gaze at the bright moon, lowering one's head to think of one's hometown," and extracting their own literary inspiration from it.

Including Ling Jiu.

Her mood was plummeting.

Where is my hometown? Is it the Imperial City? But my parents, grandparents, and maternal grandparents aren't there...

[Is this still the Star Moon Divine Realm where my mother resides? But she's already married to someone else; I'm superfluous...]

Is it still Xuancheng, that place that brought me fleeting happiness but also a painful memory?

Her mood was getting increasingly depressed.

Ultimately, one's own mother, whom one can touch in this world, is more important.

Jiang Yun quickly regained her composure after her initial surprise.

It begins with the connection between mother and child, conveying a gentle thought to the mother's mind, soothing the melancholy and sadness that well up in her heart due to homesickness.

At the same time, he reached out and gently stroked the placenta, showing her through his actions that she shouldn't be sad, that he was there for her.

Lingjiu was taken aback.

She subconsciously touched her lower abdomen as well.

The warmth from her fingertips was real and constant. The amniotic fluid was warm, and her heartbeat was steady. One beat after another, firmly anchoring her from the uncertainty of where home was.

She suddenly understood.

Her hometown was never a coordinate on a certain planet, nor a luxurious mansion, nor even a place where her blood relatives lived but with no affection for her.

Her hometown is right here.

In this moment when she and her baby breathe and exist together, even if it's just the two of them, they can have a complete home that belongs only to them.

She no longer needs to beg or wait for anyone to accept or define her.

The moment this thought arose, the last bit of emptiness and coolness in my heart was completely filled by a warm and reassuring feeling.

Almost simultaneously.

On the podium, Lecturer Wang gently waved his wide sleeves.

"receive."

As the clear, melodious female voice faded, the vast, ink-wash-like atmosphere in the classroom seemed to be slowly lifted up by an invisible hand.

As the moonlight faded and the frost dissipated, the tactile sensation of the wooden cabin and bed, the sounds of the night wind and insects chirping, and even the sighs that seemed to pierce through a thousand years of time, all receded like the tide.

In the blink of an eye, everyone was sitting comfortably in the bright, modern classroom.

However, a lingering sense of melancholy remained on most people's faces. Several emotionally expressive girls even quietly wiped away tears.

That strange experience of being completely swept up in the emotions of longing by the imagery of the poem, the feeling that reason could hardly control, finally subsided slowly.

Jiang Yun watched with great interest. Regardless of how powerful the skill was, it was definitely cool!

Moreover, what's even more ingenious is that the hidden perception was triggered again—

You have discovered a martial arts secret; you can collect it.

Where is Xuanji?

He looked at it over and over again, but he still couldn't find it.

"The meaning can be understood from the text."

Lecturer Wang's voice brought everyone back to reality. She glanced around the classroom, her gaze calm:

"The images you just perceived are my personal understanding of the poem's imagery, which I then projected onto you through my communion cultivation."

She paused, then asked, "What do you think of the artistic conception?"

"That's incredible!"

"It felt so immersive; I almost thought I was the poet!"

"Teacher Wang's understanding of this poem 'Quiet Night Thoughts' is absolutely divine; its power to move people is terrifying!"

An excited response erupted from the audience; many students were clearly still reeling from the shock they had just witnessed.

It turned out to be the case.

In the amniotic fluid, Jiang Yun gently released a string of tiny bubbles.

Not to mention these students from another world, even he, a transmigrator who knew Li Bai and had seen countless portraits and recitation videos of Li Bai, thought for a moment that it was really the Hermit of Qinglian who had descended from time and space.

After all that, it turns out that this lecturer, Wang, projected his profound understanding of poetry into a vivid image.

However, who is the person who left this poem, and which time traveler predecessor?

Lecturer Wang's next sentence answered his question.

"This poem, 'Thoughts on a Quiet Night,' is one of the pillars of our human race's literary tradition, passed down by the divine lord Xuanjing."

Lecturer Wang's voice came through clearly, answering the students' questions: "According to Daojun himself, this poem was not his original work, but was written by an elder from his hometown in his dream."

She looked at the many young faces below the stage, her tone becoming more solemn: "But you should know that what you felt just now was my understanding imposed on you, rather than something you actively perceived and resonated with."

"Therefore, although this method can allow you to directly experience the wonder of artistic conception, its disadvantages outweigh its advantages."

She said in a slightly deep voice:

"Firstly, passively accepting the insights of others will inevitably result in an impure 'literary spirit' that one refines oneself, with a weak foundation;

Both, by relying on the imagery of others for too long, can solidify one's own spirituality, greatly reducing its malleability.

So there was this kind of restriction.

Jiang Yun nodded inwardly. That made sense; otherwise, if high-level literary cultivators were to impart enlightenment to their students every day, literary masters would have been mass-produced long ago.

"Therefore, if you want to understand the meaning of poetry and refine the style of writing, you must ultimately read and appreciate it yourselves, and touch the emotions expressed by the writers."

"The easiest way to understand a poet's thoughts is to first understand his life story."

After she finished speaking, she lightly pressed a button on the remote control with her fingertip.

The image on the screen at the front of the classroom changed.

A striking star map scroll slowly unfolds.

The starry sky is boundless, with a deep purple and black background, and the starlight is like dust.

A figure in white robes hangs alone in the center of the starry sky, his clothes fluttering, holding a seemingly simple longsword in his hand; only his back is visible.

And opposite him—

The starships were arrayed in a destructive formation, their cannons flashing with terrifying, charged light, as if ready to annihilate him at any moment.

Even in a still painting, the resolute and tragic spirit of a lone figure facing the starry sea is palpable.

"Lord Xuanjing".

Lecturer Wang's voice carried a natural reverence as she pointed to the white-clad figure in the painting:

"He was born at the end of the old era and rose during the darkest years of humankind. He is not only one of the spiritual pillars of my Starry Empire, but also the companion of the senior Mysterious Lord of the Radiant Light."

A suppressed gasp immediately rose from the audience.

"He is one of the developers of the 'Five Paths and Five Followers to Understand the Mystery of All Trades' and the 'Three Flowers Gathering at the Top and Five Aggregates Returning to the Origin' methods that maintain our human civilization today."