The Song Dynasty was the king for thirteen years before he knew that he was Tianlong.

Chapter 419 Confucian Classics, All Under Heaven Are Like Yao and Shun
Outside the tent, lightning flashed and thunder roared, and torrential rain poured down. Inside the tent, Zhao Ti was in perfect harmony with his spirit, as if he had merged with heaven and earth, and slowly began to write.

He did not decide to write a Confucian classic on a whim; he had pondered it for a long time but had not yet figured out where to begin in a way that would be more in line with the way of humanity.

But just as I was thinking about the falseness of this world, yet the realities of human affairs, the cycle of life and death, the coming and going of the past and present, what is real and what is false? My heart was stirred with emotion, and I felt that things were falling into place, that an opportunity had arisen in the dark, and that I could start writing.

The Confucian classics expound on the Confucian Way, which is the Way of Humanity. The Confucian Way takes humanity as its foundation and explores the principles of human life, which is to address the great matters of worldly order, prosperity, ethics, wisdom, and peace. This is its purpose, and the two are essentially one.

Confucianism and Taoism take humanity as their core, believing that humanity is inherent in benevolence. They regard benevolence as the foundation of humanity and the soul of the Confucian Way, emphasizing care and compassion for others.

Confucius once proposed that benevolence is loving others, believing that practicing benevolence is the highest principle of humanity.

Unlike Taoism's pursuit of transcending worldly affairs and Buddhism's pursuit of liberation and Nirvana, Confucianism and Taoism focus on practical human relationships and daily life. They advocate realizing the ideal of humanity in the world through the path of investigating things, extending knowledge, making one's will sincere, rectifying one's mind, cultivating oneself, regulating one's family, governing the state, and bringing peace to the world. This is also the direction of practice for Confucianism and Taoism.

The first four principles—investigating things, extending knowledge, making one's will sincere, and rectifying one's mind—are the foundation and inner practice of "self-cultivation," while the latter three principles—regulating one's family, governing the state, and bringing peace to the world—are the external extension and practical goals of "self-cultivation."

The core logic of Confucianism and Taoism is "from within to without" and "from oneself to others," emphasizing personal moral cultivation, which is the fundamental prerequisite for achieving a sage world and the prosperity of humanity.

As Zhao Ti's pen fell slowly to the first page of the Confucian classic, it seemed as if all the vital energy in his body had been condensed, along with all the beauty and wonder of the world, all his ambitions, achievements, ideals, struggles, strength, and aspirations for self-improvement throughout his life.

The tip of the pen shimmers with endless, indescribable, formless, colorless, and shapeless light, yet one can feel it in one's heart—a gentle radiance that contains sacred intent, upholds the kingly way, and embodies tranquility through non-action.

At this moment, it was as if heaven and earth were aware, and the universe was sensitive. The immeasurable void, the endless population on land and sea, and countless people, all felt this in an instant, and all involuntarily and subconsciously looked towards Youzhou, the land of Yan and Yun, north of the Great Song Dynasty.

Whether they were doing something, reading, governing, working, farming, talking, fighting, being hostile, at war, laughing, or crying, they all looked here, and in their hearts arose the same feeling, the same thought: a sage has been born.

The sun rises in the east, and a sage is born.

At this moment, in a large mountain in the eastern part of the capital of the Great Song Dynasty, green mist rose from the ground, and five-colored light surged, instantly transforming into a strange skeletal shape, and then instantly condensing into a horned, scaled, armored body. Then, it raised its head and spewed out white mist, letting out a long roar like a dragon, and a majestic Qilin was born.

After the qilin uttered its cry, it rose into the clouds and flew straight towards Youzhou.

During the Spring and Autumn Period, in the fourteenth year of Duke Ai of Lu, someone captured a Qilin in the western part of the State of Lu. The Qilin died immediately after being captured.

Upon hearing this, Confucius covered his face and wept, lamenting, "A unicorn! Why has it come? A unicorn! My Way has reached its end!"

"Qilin! Why have you come? Qilin! My ideals and principles have come to an end!"

When the unicorn appeared and died, my path was exhausted.

Because I do not have enough power to elucidate the Great Way and to protect you.

In Confucianism, the Qilin is a benevolent beast and a symbol of good fortune, which only appears when a sage ruler is in power and the world is at peace.

At that time, the Zhou dynasty was in decline, the rites and music had collapsed, and the world was in chaos. It was not a peaceful and prosperous era. The appearance of the Qilin at this time, which was captured and killed, was an abnormal and ominous sign.

Confucius realized that his lifelong pursuit of the ideals of "self-discipline and restoration of propriety" and "promoting benevolent governance," which was "my way," was completely unattainable in reality, hence his lament, "My way has reached its end."

Shortly thereafter, Confucius stopped revising the Spring and Autumn Annals, and not long after that, he passed away.

"When the unicorn appeared and died, my Way was exhausted" is Confucius's deep lament for the shattering of his own ideal of the Great Way, and a major blow to Confucianism and Taoism.

From then on, like a false Buddha, in what the Buddha said about the end of the Dharma, a demon usurped the Buddha's place, a false Confucian emerged, vying with the true Confucianists for the name of Confucianism.

True Confucianism and Taoism have been flickering and drifting, continuing to this day, making it difficult to distinguish between truth and falsehood, right and wrong, and reason; the rise and fall of dynasties are shrouded in mystery.

Before our eyes, Zhao Ti is writing Confucian classics, writing about humanity. The opening chapters depict changes in heaven and earth, which resonate in the hearts of all people. The Qilin is reborn, and the brilliance of humanity shines like the sunrise, radiating endless light.

His pen fell on the first page of the Confucian classic, writing with a "swish, swish, swish" sound. There were not many words, but each word shone with light, as if it were jumping, cheering, shouting, and proclaiming, its sound breaking the sky and shaking the universe. No longer confused, no longer hesitant.

Inside the capital city of Tokyo, Zhao Xu stood before the Funing Palace, his hands behind his back, gazing northwards.

A smile appeared on his pale face, and his previously gloomy expression brightened. He murmured, "Good, good! When a sage appears, humanity prospers, the world is at peace, and the four seas are tranquil... Eighth brother, this is very good. Now I can be completely at ease."

At this moment, many licentious shrines and temples within the Great Song Dynasty collapsed one after another. Some of the clay sculptures and wooden carvings inside turned to dust without warning, some caught fire and burned down in a moment, and some were blown away by a gentle breeze and scattered to the ground, without even a chance to wail.

Many of the gods and Buddhas enshrined in Taoist temples and Buddhist monasteries also destroyed themselves at this time, turning into smoke and dust that were blown away by the breeze.

Even within the Temple of Literature and the Temple of Martial Arts, some statues collapsed and scattered at this moment, and even the names engraved on the pillars and plaques were directly shattered and damaged.

The real can not be fake, the fake can not be real.

In the Western land of Shambhala, within the grand halls of some Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, the sound of chanting Buddhist prayers could be heard, seemingly resisting the invisible force of humanity. However, in the end, many halls collapsed to the ground, resembling a desolate mound that had crumbled thousands of years ago. Everything before was an illusion, a dream, a falsehood existing in the past, a reflection in the present.

Suddenly, a bluish-black light shone in the void of the Burning Lamp Ancient Buddha Hall, like a ghostly fire, like the past that has vanished, yet remains eternally unchanged.

It is the Lingjiu Palace Lantern, the Coffin Palace Lantern, illuminating the ghostly flames of the underworld, reflecting the life of the deceased.

In an instant, all the lamps in the Burning Lamp Ancient Buddha Hall were lit, their light bright yet tinged with a dark, gloomy blue, creating a hazy, dreamlike atmosphere.

It seems as if one is washing away the past, recounting one's life, tracing the original path, and navigating the netherworld.

Suddenly, a huge rift resembling interlocking wolf fangs appeared in the void above Kunlun. Hurricanes howled, rocks darted through, and evil mist swirled within, creating an extremely harsh environment. A dilapidated island floated uncertainly within it, shimmering with golden light, but within that light emanated an evil aura.

At that moment, a non-human roar came from the island, sounding like the hoarse groan of metal, the grinding of swords, or the madness of a wild beast. It shook the evil mist and shattered rocks like shooting stars, unlike any human voice...

In the far northwest of the vast grasslands, deep within the shamanic headquarters, a wooden temple suddenly emitted a terrifying "boom" sound. The sound seemed to emanate from beneath the wooden temple, shaking the entire shamanic temple building. Dark clouds rose in the sky, revealing countless ghostly faces within them.

These grotesque faces tumbled within the dark clouds, displaying a variety of terrifying appearances, as if they came from an endless abyss of hell. Some cried, some screamed, some were frightened, some were stunned, and they undulated incessantly, creating an absolutely horrifying scene.

The wooden hall's doors suddenly burst open with a bang, and a burly man in black, with thick eyebrows, fierce eyes, a lion's nose, and a wide mouth, rushed out, his gaze fixed in shock towards the southeast. The terrifying voice from beneath the hall echoed again, and upon hearing it, billowing blue vapor rose from the man's head, horns sprouted, and the Tai Chi Bagua pattern on his forehead flickered…

Zhao Ti had already finished writing the first page of the Confucian classic, which contained only fourteen characters.

He slowly picked up his pen, his eyes gleaming, echoing the fourteen characters below.

The inscription reads: "May all people be wise and benevolent, and may the world be filled with the virtues of Shun and Yao."

All people are endowed with wisdom; may everyone be a sage like Yao and Shun!
May everyone be wise, may everyone be a saint!
A thunderclap exploded outside the tent, a deafening roar that seemed to shake the heavens and earth, or to tilt the sky and tilt the earth, or even to create the world anew.

The heavy rain suddenly stopped, the dark clouds immediately dispersed, and the blazing red sun shone again, illuminating the world, the four seas, and all directions.

The sunlight was golden and crimson, more radiant than ever before in history, its warmth and brilliance unmatched.

Zhao Ti raised his head and looked outside the tent. His gaze pierced through the tent flap and looked into the distance. In an instant, it was as if he had traveled thousands of miles and saw the world in all its forms, the changes of the world, the changes of human affairs, and the contributions of our ancestors to humanity and the human race, from ancient times to the present.

Seeing the astonishment of the people, their shock at the appearance of the sage, their joy at the appearance of the sage, and their recognition of the sage, all of these were reflected in his heart. He felt the various attitudes and expressions of the people towards the appearance of the sage.

A great era is coming, a great era of humanity is coming, humanity will live long, humanity will be boundless, humanity will prosper forever!
With a loud "boom," Zhao Ti's magical power and internal energy both surged violently, soaring to the eleventh floor of the twelfth-story building.

Including the Frost True Qi, Dragon Elephant Prajna True Qi, Eternal Youth and Longevity Technique, etc., which had not been promoted before, all of them surged into the eleventh level of the Teng Snake Cave Realm.

Then, without pausing at all, he rushed towards the twelfth level of the Returning Void Eye realm.

Just then, Zhao Ti's body suddenly trembled. He put down his brush and looked at Wang Yuyan: "Yan'er, protect me..."

Wang Yuyan nodded vigorously: "Your Highness, rest assured."

Zhao Ti smiled slightly, closed his eyes, and forgot about the calamities that were about to befall him.

Daqian, Yuzhou, Chunyu Street, Xinghua Lane.

The moon is crescent-shaped, the stars fill the sky, and midnight is approaching.

In the small courtyard room, Zhao Ti got out of bed to tidy up the floor, intending to light another lamp.

He suddenly felt a momentary dizziness in his mind, as if countless things were rushing in, like a roaring sea, as if they were about to explode.

But before he could react and clearly identify what those things were, or why he felt relaxed and clear-headed despite the collapse of mountains and the tsunami, they vanished without a trace.

He froze, as if he had lost something important, as if he had lost his soul, and felt empty inside and out.

What's going on? Why is this feeling coming back? It's the same as last time, but clearer, stronger, and more shocking.

After a long while, he moved again, went to the middle of the ground to sweep away the remaining lamp, and then lit a new lamp.

The new lamp had a short wick, and the flame was as small as a bean. It cast his shadow on the wall, which was long and narrow and of uneven proportions, like a faceless human figure reflected in a curved mirror, which was quite comical.

Zhao Ti sat down at the table, took a sip of cold water, and tried to rest, but he was wide awake.

His mind was filled with that feeling from before. What exactly was it? Why did it feel like some of his own experiences were resurfacing? Was it a replay of his past?
No, it seems to be my own memories? How could I have such a vast and complex collection of memories? That's impossible.

Could it be a past life? But where would a past life come from? Does it even exist? Is it true that if you believe, it exists, and if you don't, it doesn't?

The Master did not speak of strange phenomena, physical strength, disorder, or spirits.

Zhao Ti took a deep breath, trying not to think about that feeling. He looked at his hands and realized that he had already mastered the Four Illuminations Divine Skill. He hadn't expected it to be so fast, taking only seven days.

He pondered the matter of cultivation techniques, but after a long while he still couldn't fall asleep. Bored, he picked up a book to read, but he remained tireless and instead became more and more energetic.

Finally, he put down the book, thought for a moment, got up and walked to the box by the wall. He opened one of the boxes and found the small crystal coffin containing the Feathered Demon quietly inside.

Zhao Ti couldn't help but smile, and he took out the small coffin, then turned around and went back behind the table.

He placed the crystal coffin on the table, and through its crystalline exterior, he could vaguely see a tiny figure lying inside.

Even though it's not very clear from the outside, you can still tell that the little girl's figure is absolutely beautiful, with every curve being flawless, just like a sleeping princess, sleeping for thousands of years, like Sleeping Beauty.

Zhao Ti observed for a few moments, then carefully opened the coffin lid, being cautious not to touch anything inside the coffin.

While it's not to say that encountering it would result in something as eerie as losing a hand, it's always better to be cautious, especially since the crow has repeatedly warned and cautioned us.

He placed the coffin lid aside and peered inside. The little Feather Spirit Demon was breathtakingly beautiful, with long, slightly curled eyelashes like flower stamens, red lips the color of rose petals, a pert nose that was both cute and mischievous, and a slight blush on her small cheeks. She truly looked as if she were asleep, rather than having been dead for thousands of years.

The six wings still shimmered with brilliant colors, like rainbows in the sky, so dazzling that just a few breaths of staring at them would leave one mesmerized.

Zhao Ti couldn't help but shake his head slightly. The wonder of creation was truly indescribable. It was clearly a celestial demon, yet it was created to resemble a human. It was so exquisite and beautiful that it seemed not to be a demon, but rather... an angel.

For some reason, this word popped into his mind. Originally, this word did not exist in the world, but when he saw the tiny Feather Spirit Demon in the coffin, this word was born.

Zhao Ti moved slightly closer to the crystal coffin, his breathing slow and gentle. He stared at it for nearly a quarter of an hour before suddenly feeling drowsy and his eyelids began to droop.

He looked up, then glanced around. Too lazy to move, he simply slumped onto the table and fell into a deep sleep…

(End of this chapter)