Ch. 7 - Stop Fantasizing

[...To be honest, the content in textbooks is just like grandma's cotton sock covers—smelly and long. If I'd been busy with farm work all day, what I'd want to hear is definitely something that hooks the landlords, not ass-kissing them.]

Ulasan's brow furrowed tightly as he read through the text, unable to stop himself from commenting:

"How can he use such vulgar vocabulary? If this were presented to the noble lords, he'd be sent to the gallows for sure!"

[...'Fuck the landlords, fuck this life'! If possible, I'd rather they could sing this right in front of those great lords. I'd hope even more that none of this would be seen as just a dream.]

[Because there's still hope for the future, that's why people want to dream.]

[But I'm even more reckless.]

[So it's better to treat it as a dream and forget it all when the sun comes up.]

After reading the song's content and the profanity scattered throughout, the bards—who had made themselves the mouthpieces of noble lords—couldn't help but gape:

"Can these lyrics... even be spoken aloud?"

Ulasan's face turned from green to purple, burning with pain—

He'd been struggling not long ago over how to flatter with even more auspicious words!

"How can he say such things!? How dare he sing such things!?"

This content was clearly cursing their patrons, attacking the professors' teaching methods, slapping the academy's face!

Hearing the dean's furious shouting, the students fell silent as if hit by a silence spell.

But their eyes never left the monument for a moment—

[...I don't know what this little girl has been through. I can't feel what she feels, so I'm not qualified to lecture her.]

[But regardless, she's my first fan. Anyway, I'll be staying here for a while, so if there's a chance, I can keep an eye out for her.]

[Maybe I can even get her to help spread my songs, let more people know me, prove I came to this land.]

[And besides—]

[She said 'see you tomorrow' to me, which seems like she's also looking forward to tomorrow.]

[Only when I wrote this sentence did I suddenly realize...]

[That I might have made a new friend.]

After a long silence, a student finally couldn't help but mutter:

"That foul mouth that was hooking landlords one second can actually say things like this the next?"

"Reading through it all, there's no dramatic plot, and the writing can only be called readable. But somehow I finished the whole thing..."

"Who exactly wrote this journal? Why can he inscribe on the Forgotten Monument? Is he a poet from the academy??"

Various doubts and discussions swirled around the ears of over a thousand students of the Poet's Academy.

Opinions varied about the original author's identity, but everyone felt it couldn't be unrelated to the Poet's Academy.

Only the poets themselves truly knew how much they kissed up to the nobles' asses.

To be honest, not everyone was willing to be a court jester, making their superiors laugh.

This journal entry, right in front of the entire academy, refuted those tired old themes and clearly spoke to their hearts—

Many of them had written rebellious manuscripts.

But in the end, they were all rejected with verdicts of 'not conforming to core values.'

They were the mouthpiece of the nobility; words unfavorable to the lords must not be spoken.

Some words could only be held in their hearts.

But if...

"If I could also speak freely like him, cursing that boring *One Thousand and One Praises* textbook

If I could also make the dean who killed my manuscript furious... how wonderful that would be!"

This light complaint drifted into Geya Yuexi's ears.

She suddenly remembered the manuscript her instructor had just rejected—

'Return all the nobles' money in full, split the common people's money seventy-thirty.'

At this moment, the text on the monument was like an invisible blade, trying to help her cut through the shackles in her heart.

It was as if something was pulling out that expressive urge from the depths of her soul...

But the ridiculous thing was, her mouth clearly belonged to her, and the words had already reached the tip of her tongue.

It was as if someone had locked her throat, preventing her from speaking them.

"Stop fantasizing!"

A reminder suppressed everyone's reveries.

"This journal entry is brazenly displayed on the monument. If the Terran royal family saw it, they might even hold our academy accountable...

We're all about to graduate. If we lose our reputation, will we still have any prospects?"

Since they had no independence, they couldn't slap the nobles' faces.

Understanding the key point, Ulasan immediately issued an order:

"Not a word about today's events can be spread!

No one is allowed to mention the monument's contents—

That is slander, defamation! It's disrespectful to the entire academy, to our benefactors!

If I hear anyone endorsing or singing these damn words, no matter who you are or what your level is, you will be expelled from the academy, never to be hired again!

All work within the Empire's borders will also be closed to you!"

The dignified dean stomped his feet in anger, accidentally shaking his wig askew.

Fortunately, Geya hurried to help straighten it, asking thoughtfully:

"Instructor, he mentioned at the beginning it was a year after traveling. Could it possibly be a senior who left the academy a year ago?"

"Very possible! Investigate—search for me all the poets who left the academy in the past year.

Before the next sponsorship fee collection, we must root out this bad apple!"

The poet's academic system wasn't fixed, but generally it was seven years—enough time for a beginner to reach mastery of a basic instrument.

Of course, there were always exceptions.

When the key time point of ‘one year’ was mentioned,' Geya suddenly remembered a name and leaned close to Ulasan's ear, hesitantly saying:

"Instructor, Tang Qi also seems to have... a year ago..."

"Tang Qi Weinberg?"

Ulasan had taught many students, but he only remembered two types.

One type was exceptionally talented, like Geya, an honor student who was hard to find fault with.

The other type made him blow his beard and glare in anger, like Tang Qi—

"Tang Qi, go to Lord Lassen's mansion and sing an inspiring poem.

Remember, avoid any content about knights—his wife just eloped with a knight not long ago!"

"I've got it, instructor."

"What did you remember?"

"Inspiring, knight, elopement."

Before his eyes, a dull, wooden face suddenly floated up.

Ulasan seemed to hear a joke and kept waving his hand:

"That's impossible. If he really had this ability, would I have needed to send him away?"

Even as he stomped his feet in anger, Ulasan couldn't find too many problems with this journal entry.

The writing was vulgar, yet carried a strange humor.

He couldn't hear the melody, but the lyrics were simple while also being catchy.

It couldn't be called a masterpiece, but it definitely wasn't something that Tang Qi—who only knew how to recite by rote—could create:

"That kid probably went home already. After all, he's a noble lord's illegitimate son. With a skill in hand, he won't starve to death at least."

Thinking of this, Ulasan followed with a sigh.

He hoped that wooden block could understand the subtext he'd meant to save both their faces—

He’d driven him away so he would recognize his limitations and retreat.

Go home, ask that great lord for living expenses, and live off him until he dies.

Not actually carry a lute to travel the continent, ultimately dying in some forgotten corner...

"I watched him grow up, after all. Geya, when you have time, go inquire about that kid's situation for me."

Geya acknowledged, her azure eyes looking at that starlight on the monument, curiously asking:

"Then the monument's content..."

Ulasan pondered for a moment, then sighed:

"After all, this is the first time in hundreds of years that the monument has been inscribed with text again—though I don't know what method was used.

But for the academy, perhaps it holds some significance...

I'll invite spellcasters to come and cover the monument."

The academy's rise and fall was closely tied to the monument.

Today's new inscription might also signify something in the unseen.

Ulasan inadvertently raised his eyes, looking toward the horizon where a glimmer of dawn was showing.

The sky spread out like the deep sea, displaying a dim blue, but now faintly scattering orange-red morning light.

He suddenly realized that night had gradually receded from the commotion:

"Tomorrow is coming."

Was it the academy's tomorrow?

He reached out his hand, trying to greet the first ray of dawn.

...

Sunlight spilled through the gaps in the window shutters, spreading across Tang Qi's fingertips.

"So none of this was a dream."

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