Chapter Forty-One: The Radiance of a Well-Read Soul (Double-Length Chapter)

While everyone was marveling at Wang Mo’s talent, his own heart was pounding violently.

Fortunately, he was wearing a mask at that moment, so no one could see the abnormal expression on his face.

Because Wang Mo heard the system’s voice whispering in his ear:

[Congratulations, Host. Your Douyin livestream account has surpassed one hundred thousand followers. Task completed. You have received: Bronze Chest x1, Silver Chest x1.]

Hearing the system prompt, Wang Mo was stunned.

Task completed?

He hurriedly checked his follower count: 100,300!

In less than half an hour just now, his follower count had leaped from fifty thousand to one hundred thousand!

At the same time, the system prompts kept appearing:

[Reputation +5]

[Reputation +10]

[Reputation +8]

In the blink of an eye, his reputation had increased by several hundred.

Wang Mo instantly understood why his followers had doubled in such a short time.

It must have been his recent performance that won over countless netizens, prompting them to follow him en masse and bringing with them a huge surge of reputation.

The barrage of comments confirmed his guess.

“Stunned into silence.”

“Damn, I apologize for my earlier arrogance. Here’s a heart for you.”

“Boss is so generous!”

“The streamer’s talent is already no less than mine.”

“I’m a fan now, totally following.”

“The only flaw: the streamer’s voice is too much like Wang Mo’s. And I’m a die-hard Wang Mo anti-fan.”

“I’m also a committed Wang Mo hater, but I’ve fallen for the streamer.”

“Fan the streamer, hate Wang Mo. Nothing contradictory about that.”

The comments were finally becoming friendly.

Of course, there were still anti-fans.

Unless the universe explodes, anti-fans will always exist.

…

Wang Mo’s attention finally returned to the stream, and he suppressed the urge to open the chests, knowing this was not the time.

The livestream was still ongoing.

He looked at Silvermoon. “Any more questions?”

Silvermoon was feeling like giving up. He was now a hundred percent sure that the streamer before him was not Wang Mo, the talentless pretty boy.

What rotten luck to have run into the real deal!

How useless was the person who’d given him this tip-off? Were they blind? They’d sworn up and down this was definitely Wang Mo, and that a little probing would be enough to rip off “Xilou’s” mask. Then he’d not only make some money, but also ride the wave of drama for attention—gaining a million followers would be a dream within reach.

The dream was beautiful.

Reality was cruel.

No!

There was still a chance!

Silvermoon felt he had to give it one more shot—for his dream, for the money.

He steadied himself, looked at Wang Mo, and said, “The ten questions just now were all the most basic knowledge. Answering them only proves your foundation is solid, not necessarily that you’re truly talented. A truly gifted streamer doesn’t just have a firm grasp of knowledge, but must also be able to cite classics and speak with eloquence.”

That was stretching things.

Netizens didn’t indulge him.

“You call those basic knowledge?”

“They are basic, but not many could answer them all right.”

“Silvermoon, I supported you testing Xilou earlier, but now Xilou’s proven he’s not just a fame-chaser. Why are you still pressing?”

“Ten questions, all correct. If that’s not talent, what is?”

Silvermoon pretended not to see the comments, his eyes fixed on Wang Mo. “I’ll ask you three more questions. If you answer well, I’ll gift you two Carnivals for each of the first two questions. If you can answer the third one perfectly, I’ll send you ten Carnivals. And not only will I admit you’re a true scholar, I’ll address you as ‘teacher’!”

Before Wang Mo could reply, the comment section was already exploding.

“Damn? Ten Carnivals?!”

“And call him teacher?”

“He’s gone all in now.”

“If Silvermoon dares to make such a bet, these three questions must be hellishly difficult.”

Silvermoon said, “Xilou, do you dare accept?”

Wang Mo did not answer, because another system message sounded in his mind:

[Host’s current situation detected, triggering a side quest.]

[Quest: Within one month, let your livestream account surpass one million followers.]

[Reward: Special Chest x1.]

Wang Mo’s heart skipped a beat.

A special chest?

How special could it be?

While he was still lost in thought, Silvermoon, seeing that Wang Mo hadn’t replied, asked again, “Xilou, do you dare take it?”

Wang Mo composed himself, nodded, and said, “I’ll give it a try.”

“Good!” Silvermoon conferred with his assistant for a long while before producing a brand-new slip of paper. He said, “Listen carefully. First question: In Chinese mythology, it’s said that the dragon has nine sons. What are their names?”

Without hesitation, Wang Mo smiled and counted on his fingers. “The dragon’s nine sons are: Qiu Niu, Ya Zi, Chao Feng, Pu Lao, Suan Ni, Bi Xi, Bi An, Fu Xi, and Chi Wen. Perhaps few have heard their names, but each has its own meaning and symbolism in daily life.”

“For example, take the idiom ‘revenge even for the slightest grievance’—does anyone know its origin?”

“In fact, this idiom comes from the second son, Ya Zi. Ya Zi was known for his fierce and combative nature, a god of war among the dragon’s sons. So the ancients said: ‘A meal of kindness must be repaid, a slight grievance must be avenged.’ Thus, the idiom ‘revenge even for the slightest grievance’ was born.”

He spoke smoothly, drawing the listeners in.

Many netizens were astonished.

“I learned something new.”

“My eyes have been opened.”

“Only now do I know the origin of that idiom.”

“I instantly remembered ‘Ya Zi.’”

“Me too. From now on, if anyone asks me about the dragon’s nine sons, at least I can name one.”

“Incredible! How is he so knowledgeable? I just looked up the names and can barely read them, yet he not only listed all nine with ease but gave us a knowledge lesson too.”

Many were in awe.

Even Silvermoon himself felt his horizons broadened.

He wore a complex expression and said, “Impressive! Truly impressive! Give him two Carnivals… But the next question will be harder. Listen to the second question: In everyday speech, we often use the phrase ‘eighteen generations of ancestors.’ For example: ‘I love your ancestors to the eighteenth generation,’ or ‘your ancestors to the eighteenth generation are beautiful,’ and so on. But do you know who those eighteen generations are?”

As soon as he finished speaking, the netizens grew excited.

“What? There really are eighteen generations of ancestors?”

“My worldview has been shattered again!”

“What kind of question is this? It’s insane!”

“If you keep asking questions like this, I’ll never get bored. Next time I curse someone out, I won’t just say ‘eighteen generations of ancestors’—I’ll list them one by one.”

While the netizens discussed, Wang Mo smiled and began, “This is indeed an obscure bit of knowledge. Many think ‘eighteen generations of ancestors’ is just a fanciful phrase, a catch-all for one’s forebears.”

“But actually, it’s not.”

“The so-called eighteen generations of ancestors means, with oneself as the center, nine generations up and nine generations down.”

“The nine generations above are: father, grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great-grandfather, heaven ancestor, fierce ancestor, great ancestor, distant ancestor, and prime ancestor.”

“The titles are: the one who gave birth to you is the father; his father is the grandfather; his father is the great-grandfather; above that the great-great-grandfather; then heaven ancestor, fierce ancestor, great ancestor, distant ancestor, and prime ancestor.”

“The nine generations below are: son, grandson, great-grandson, great-great-grandson, coming grandson, kun grandson, reng grandson, yun grandson, and er grandson.”

“The titles: your son is the first, his son the grandson, his son the great-grandson, and so on—great-great-grandson, coming grandson, kun grandson, reng grandson, yun grandson, and er grandson.”

“It seems complicated, but actually it’s not. There’s a mnemonic called the ‘Title Song’ for remembering them: ‘Prime, distant, great, fierce, heaven, high, great, grandfather, father and self; son, grandson, great-grandson, great-great-grandson, coming, kun, reng, yun, er stop here.’”

Wang Mo’s voice was clear and gentle, soothing and pleasant, like a cool wind brushing through the depths of the listeners’ hearts.

Knowledge that would otherwise be dry became lively and engaging in his explanation.

Everyone listened with rapt attention—even if they still didn’t quite understand.

Even Silvermoon was nearly entranced.

His own answer had only the bare names of eighteen generations, but Wang Mo had not only explained each in detail, he even recited a mnemonic song for the audience.

The two answers were worlds apart.

Originally, Wang Mo hadn’t planned to give such an elaborate explanation, intending only to recite the answer. But he’d discovered a secret: whenever he gave a detailed answer, his reputation soared.

“Is that how it works?” he thought, delighted.

He also realized: Reputation was really about the public’s admiration and awe. The more he impressed them, the more reputation he gained.

So, hearing Silvermoon’s questions, he gave comprehensive and detailed explanations.

The results were outstanding.

What began as a test from Silvermoon had gradually turned into a knowledge-sharing session.

As for the questioning Silvermoon, he too had become an audience member.

Unconsciously, Wang Mo had taken full command of the PK stream, moving hearts with every word and gesture.

In his livestream room, the barrage changed once more.

“My mother asked why I’m kneeling while watching my phone.”

“I surrender, big bro. I surrender, okay?”

“Damn, that’s amazing. Even reading from a book, I couldn’t recite those answers.”

“I’ve brought a little stool and am listening carefully.”

“What’s key is that I find this dry knowledge utterly fascinating with his explanations.”

“Me too. I’m paying more attention than I ever did in high school classes.”

“How could such an awesome streamer be slandered as Wang Mo?”

“So what if he sounds like Wang Mo? Is that a crime?”

“…”

As for gifts, they were pouring in.

Some netizens even followed Silvermoon’s lead and sent a string of Carnivals, turning the stream into a dazzling display.

Only when Wang Mo finally paused did Silvermoon, after taking several deep breaths, continue. “Assistant, send two Carnivals… Now there’s only the final question left. If you answer it perfectly, I’ll not only send you ten Carnivals, but I’ll call you teacher myself.”

“Ask away.” Wang Mo nodded.

Silvermoon said gravely, “Listen carefully. Third question: The military strategy classic ‘Thirty-Six Stratagems’ in our country’s history is divided into how many categories? Which stratagems belong to each category?”

Oh?

That was the third question?

Wang Mo’s brow lifted.

In this world—Blue Star—the course of history was largely the same as on his previous world, Earth. The cultural history before the Tang dynasty was almost unchanged.

The real changes came in the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, and Qing periods, particularly in culture and entertainment. After all, if those periods weren’t altered, the author would have nothing to write about.

In his previous world, the Thirty-Six Stratagems originated in the Northern and Southern Dynasties and was compiled in the Ming-Qing era, with its authorship lost to time. In this world, though the Thirty-Six Stratagems differed slightly, the core content was nearly identical.

By now, the barrage was already buzzing.

“Wait, the Thirty-Six Stratagems are categorized?”

“I think I only remember the Empty Fort strategy…”

“I remember the Beauty Trap.”

“Is there a Blood Pressure Trap?”

Even Silvermoon was smiling. The question seemed simple—after all, anyone who’d been to school had heard of the Thirty-Six Stratagems.

Yet, the simpler something seemed, the harder it often was. Most people could name only one or two, like “Besiege Wei to Rescue Zhao” or “Empty Fort Strategy.”

Someone who could recite all thirty-six would be one in ten thousand.

Let alone sort them into categories.

Many didn’t even know the strategies were grouped at all.

This was Silvermoon’s trump card.

Just as he thought he’d stump Wang Mo, Wang Mo began to speak confidently: “The Thirty-Six Stratagems are divided into six major categories: Winning Stratagems, Enemy Stratagems, Offensive Stratagems, Chaotic Stratagems, United Stratagems, and Defeat Stratagems.”

“Each group represents strategies to be used in different situations. Let me explain them to everyone.”

“First, the Winning Stratagems: these are used from a position of absolute advantage, the art by which a ruler controls his ministers or a great nation controls a small one. The stratagems are: Deceive the Heavens to Cross the Sea, Besiege Wei to Rescue Zhao, Kill with a Borrowed Knife, Wait at Leisure for the Exhausted Enemy, Loot a House on Fire, Make a Sound in the East and Strike in the West.”

“Second, the Enemy Stratagems: these are used when both sides are evenly matched. The stratagems are: Create Something from Nothing, Pretend to Advance Down One Path While Taking Another, Watch the Fire from Across the River, Hide a Dagger in a Smile, Substitute One Thing for Another, Steal the Sheep in Passing.”

“And then come the Offensive Stratagems…”

“Chaotic Stratagems…”

“United Stratagems…”

“Defeat Stratagems…”

In his prior life, Wang Mo had always been especially fond of the Thirty-Six Stratagems, feeling the wisdom within applied not just to military affairs, but to all aspects of life.

It was no exaggeration to say that from national conflicts to business rivalries, from corporate politics to daily intrigues, all schemes and plots could be encapsulated within the Thirty-Six Stratagems.

It was a crown jewel of Chinese strategy, second to none.

So, in answering, he unconsciously explained the Thirty-Six in depth, covering the meaning, origin, and related literature for each, adding his own insights as well.

One minute.

Two minutes.

…

Over twenty minutes passed before he finished.

Wang Mo didn’t feel tired; apart from sipping water a few times, he was still energetic.

Indeed, as he explained, a sense of pride welled up in him.

This was the crown jewel of Chinese culture.

Foreign thieves could steal our treasures, burn our ancient books and paintings, but this thousand-year-old legacy of wisdom could never be stolen.

He didn’t notice.

In the streaming rooms—his, Silvermoon’s—over a hundred thousand viewers were already dazed.

To recite all Thirty-Six Stratagems was remarkable.

To explain them in detail surpassed most literature students.

But Wang Mo had not only detailed each one, but also recounted their origins, stories, and references.

For example: you might know the Beauty Trap, but do you know its origin?

Wang Mo did. He told everyone: Beauty Trap is found in “Six Secret Teachings, Civil Stratagems”: “Raise their treacherous ministers to confuse them; send beautiful women and lascivious music to seduce them.” He illustrated with the story of Goujian, who, on Wen Zhong’s advice, presented the unmatched beauties Xi Shi and Zheng Dan to Fuchai, leading him into indulgence, which allowed Goujian to annihilate Wu.

Such eloquence and knowledge left the audience dumbfounded.

Even if they didn’t understand it all, it certainly sounded impressive.

“Who am I? Where am I? What am I supposed to be doing?”

“Heavens, I actually just listened to an entire strategy lesson on Douyin.”

“Only now do I realize how powerful and all-encompassing our Thirty-Six Stratagems are.”

“The truly amazing one is the streamer. He spoke without any notes for nearly half an hour! What kind of literary foundation, what kind of knowledge must that require?”

“I’m awestruck.”

Silvermoon’s shock surpassed even the netizens’. Looking at the unruffled “Xilou,” he actually felt a sense of awe, as if gazing up at a mountain.

Someone like this—uncultured?

His expression was complicated as he turned to his assistant. “Give me twenty Carnivals!”

The assistant was startled. “Twenty?”

Wasn’t it ten?

Silvermoon, have you gone mad?

Silvermoon nodded firmly. “Yes, twenty.”

Since he’d started this, he had to use enough Carnivals to quell any potential outrage over his earlier challenge.

Then he stood up and bowed deeply to the camera. “Teacher Xilou, I’ve offended you before, even mistook you for a certain fallen celebrity. Please forgive my rudeness.”

Well… actually, you weren’t mistaken.

I am that fallen celebrity.

Wang Mo thought privately, but said aloud, “Don’t worry, your doubts are understandable.”

Silvermoon, having turned from challenger to flatterer, said, “I was too reckless. In fact, from your words, bearing, and attitude, it’s clear you’re a true scholar. I’m curious—why do learned people always have such distinct presence?”

He’d only meant it as a compliment, not expecting a reply.

After all, Wang Mo wore a mask, separated by a screen—what presence could one possibly discern?

But to his surprise, Wang Mo replied softly, “Perhaps it is because ‘a bellyful of poetry brings its own radiance.’”