My autobiography is definitely not a tragedy!-Chapter 800 - 480: Show the Limit_3

Hu Yonghua naturally knew his own level. He squinted and smiled, "Then this poem... what does Xiao Meng think?"

Poem?

Meng Lang was taken aback.

Why has it turned to poetry again?

He glanced once more at the calligraphy on the table...

"A good poem, with ambition soaring to the skies, quite impressive."

"Hmm! It seems Xiao Meng understands poetry as well.

On the wind’s gentle support, soaring high into the sky, how many on the ground, can see me in the azure heavens...

To achieve both martial and civil prowess, to succeed and become renowned, who doesn’t have some lofty ambitions when young? Haha..."

Hu Yonghua looked at Meng Lang and smiled, but his gaze was somewhat meaningful.

Meng Lang was a bit dazed by his gaze but quickly realized, and found it amusing.

The other was ostensibly talking about poetry, but was actually telling him...

Fame and fortune, who can resist them?

There are no Saints in the world anymore.

At your young age, you don’t want money, nor fame. You don’t strive for fame and fortune, so what do you want?

This person... seems to be doubting my intentions...

Perhaps this poem was intentionally left here, waiting for me...

After all, at my age, it’s really hard to be associated with being an "expert."

The other is no Hu Yifei, who has been navigating officialdom for years, and probably has long cultivated a deep understanding of worldly affairs.

Our previous encounter with Hu Yonghua might not have increased his liking for me, but rather deepened his suspicions...

After all, it was too coincidental, and it is hard to say it wasn’t a deliberate approach to the Hu family...

This is the downside of opening new fate lines, losing the "deterministic future," everything can only be adapted to at random.

However...

Meng Lang’s lips curled into a smile.

Handling such small situations now doesn’t even require any foresight on my part...

"To achieve both martial and civil prowess, to succeed and become renowned, is that the ambition?"

I think this poem... shouldn’t be interpreted that way."

"Oh?" Hu Yonghua raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"This kite rises with the wind, overlooking all, yet it still cannot escape the kite string’s constraints.

Fame and fortune are all but fleeting clouds.

If one can’t break free from the ’string’s’ constraints, no matter how high the kite flies, it can only see the clouds and smoke, not the higher scenery!

But if the string of fame and fortune breaks, soaring straight up ninety-thousand miles...

Then, it truly becomes ’how many on the ground, can see me in the azure heavens’..."

Hu Yonghua’s breath hitched.

He had to admit, he was momentarily captivated by the spirit of the young man before him.

But... who couldn’t say nice things?

Break free from the "string of fame and fortune"?

Sounds simple enough.

The average person’s ultimate goal would just be civil and martial achievement. Do you really want to reach for the stars and the sea?

It is indeed quite "off-track"!

Is there really such a young person with a realm transcending the masses?

How old are you to have started understanding the Tao?

Even if you sprout a few gray hairs, grow a few crow’s feet, a little more seasoned look would give you more persuasive power in my eyes, right?

"Xiao Meng, you indeed have insights into poetry, but do you really believe there’s such a Saint in the world?

He doesn’t seek fame or fortune, then what does he seek for?" Hu Yonghua probed.

It’s simple, really, there’s great terror between life and death!

In the face of such terror, fame and fortune... are worth nothing!

But that’s not something to say out loud...

Skepticism is a common ailment for all who are high-ranking.

Meng Lang knew that even if he spoke well, it might not dispel the other’s doubts, so he decided to end today’s meeting in another way.

"Whether there are Saints in this world, I don’t know... but we can make a bet."

"A bet?" Hu Yonghua was taken aback.

"Yes! I haven’t played table tennis in a long time, how about... we spar another round?" Meng Lang said with a smile.

"Table... table tennis?!"

Hu Yonghua’s expression turned strange.

You’re a beginner who couldn’t even return my serve, and you want to bet with me on table tennis?

Meng Lang smiled without speaking.

Have you ever heard of the saying, ’Three days apart feels like thirty years’?

Plus, with my "super-frequency magic," not to mention a mere amateur, I’m confident I could snag an Olympic gold for you...

Last time I showed my lower limit, this time...

It’s time to show the upper limit...

...

Half an hour later...

Meng Lang left the Hu family with a smile, carrying the "Linjiang Immortal" calligraphy by Hu Yonghua.

Only Hu Yonghua was left staring blankly at the ping pong ball in his hand.

Utterly starting to question life...

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