Having bolstered his risk-awareness, Zhao Yan decided he didn't want to just wander around anymore. He felt a stronger urge to go home and try his hand at writing a few poems; they might be terrible, but he had to start somewhere. It wouldn't do to have ideas but never take any action.
Back home, Zhao Yan, filled with motivation, coolly wrote three poems. While the quality wasn't exactly stellar, they were at least complete.
That night, Zhao Yan dreamt he was reciting poetry with ease, composing verses in seven steps. The people around him were filled with awe and envy, while he simply gave a modest, understated smile.
Chapter 233