I proved immortality through the imperial examination.

Chapter 207 The Secret Within the Stele

"It's not that I was arrogant at first and then became obsequious."

Xue Xiang cupped his hands and said with a fawning smile, "When you were as young as I was, you certainly didn't meet such a kind senior in the Nascent Soul Realm."

"Ha ha……"

Xue Antai smiled and pointed at Xue Xiang, saying, "The one who can compose 'Do not listen to the sound of rain pattering through the forest' is indeed a remarkable person of our time."

Xue Antai raised his eyebrows slightly and said slowly, "I am the sixth child, and your grandfather is the third."

Xue Xiang was taken aback, then realized what was happening and quickly bowed deeply, calling out, "Sixth Grandfather."

Where was Xue Xiang's pride as a top poet?

Relatives and relatives with a net worth of hundreds of billions are never the same species.

Xue Da Guanren's physique had long since softened into mud in the face of the words "transformation into a god".

"Can you tell me about your cultivation level now?"

Xue Antai smiled and said.

Xue Xiang quickly straightened up and said, "Sixth Grandfather, my cultivation level is only at the eighth level of Foundation Establishment. I have made some progress in the path of literary energy, and the Literary Energy Treasure Tree is complete. I am planning to take this opportunity to inquire about the threshold of the Jujutsu Realm."

His tone was calm, neither arrogant nor humble.

"You have only been cultivating for three years, yet you have made such progress. You must either possess exceptional talent or have had a series of fortuitous encounters. You are no less capable than I was back then."

Xue Antai nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over him, his expression gradually turning serious: "Do you possess a body-refining technique?"

Xue Xiang was taken aback. "Sixth Grandfather truly has keen insight."

Xue Antai pointed his finger in the air, as if he were plucking the air from a distance, and said, "I can feel your pulse resonating as you sit here."

It would be absolutely impossible without mastering the art of body refinement.

I've never seen a Foundation Establishment cultivator possess such bloodline power before.

Xue Xiang said, "I have a secret body-refining technique and I also had a fortuitous encounter in the Chaotic Sea Demon Realm, where I consumed a large amount of Morning and Evening Dew."

"No wonder."

Xue Antai said, "But morning and evening dew is not an ordinary thing. Without a supreme immortal foundation, it is difficult to remove the impurities from it."

Therefore, your immortal foundation must also be extremely outstanding.

"Incredible! Completely flawless, far superior to my abilities back then."

Xue Antai was silent for a moment, the teacup turning gently between his fingers. "It seems you have your own destiny. I don't need to enlighten you. But there is one thing I feel is necessary to say a few words to you."

Xue Xiang's expression hardened. "Please enlighten me, Sixth Grandfather."

Xue Antai said, "When I said I was at the Nascent Soul stage, that wasn't the whole truth."

He paused for a moment, as if considering his words.

"I did reach the Nascent Soul stage, but I only stayed at that level for three years. After three years, my cultivation level dropped."

His expression was neither sad nor happy; he simply extended a finger and lightly touched his brow. "As for my literary cultivation, I once reached the realm of poetry. Now, with the destruction of the precious tree, my literary cultivation is completely gone."

In an instant, a strong sense of desolation and frustration filled the room.

Xue Xiang was stunned.

Only the flickering lamplight remained in the room, and a wisp of autumn breeze drifted in through the window cracks.

Xue Xiang took a deep breath and said, "Sixth Grandfather's cultivation level has dropped. Is it because he has suffered a cultivation deviation?"

Xue Antai shook his head: "I used to think so too. I thought there was a huge chasm before the Nascent Soul stage, and the reason I couldn't cross it was because I lacked talent and didn't cultivate diligently enough. But after thinking about it for a long time, I don't see it that way anymore."

He raised his hand and lightly touched his brow with his index finger: "It's like there's an invisible force pulling me back, preventing me from taking another step forward. It's not an external demon intruding, nor a reversal of the divine realm, but rather a kind of rebellion arising from my own 'Dao'."

After I entered the realm of divine transformation, in just two or three years, I could hardly maintain my rationality. My thoughts often diverged, and even knowing it was wrong, I would still do it anyway.

The Vitality Tree was beyond my control; its joints withered and decayed, its branches and leaves fell off on their own, completely out of my control.

He paused for a moment, then said, "So I went down this path myself, severing my own cultivation, causing my realm to plummet, and the Literary Qi Tree withered away by my own hand. Only in this way could I barely preserve a sliver of clarity."

As he said this, he pointed to his face, half of which looked like an infant and the other half like a decaying corpse. “These are the marks left behind. One side is the path I once followed, and the other side is the life I was given after falling.”

Xue Xiangjun frowned and asked, "Do you know the reason?"

Xue Antai shook his head: "I've thought about it, but I can't be sure."

The candlelight flickered on his half-lit, half-withered face, the light and shadow gliding inch by inch across the wrinkles of time.

Xue Antai suddenly laughed and said, "Don't you think it's a bit too far-fetched for me to suddenly talk to you about the Nascent Soul Realm? This is a world that you might not be able to reach for many years."

Xue Xiang nodded and said, "That's true."

Xue Antai smiled slightly, but his gaze passed over the lights in the elegant room and fell on the water outside the window: "I haven't left the clan mausoleum for a long time, and I don't care about things outside anymore. But ever since I learned of your existence as a junior of the same clan, heard your poems and essays, and inquired about your past, I have been thinking about what kind of person you are and what kind of path you will take."

A breeze swept through the bamboo curtain, the lamplight flickered, and Xue Xiang felt a chill on his body.

He continued, "Knowing that you will be viewing the stele tomorrow, I thought about it for a long time, but finally decided to make this trip. How much do you know about the Wendao Stele?"

Xue Xiang pondered for a moment: "I've only heard that the Wendao Stele is a Heavenly Stele that suppresses the literary tradition, and it's said to have been left by a sage."

Xue Antai smiled slightly: "The sage aligns his literary lineage with the Way of Heaven, and his very being is the Way of Heaven. Why then would he leave behind these 108 literary steles to suppress the literary lineage of the world?"

He picked up his teacup and gently blew away the foam. "In fact, you've been to the Land of Demonic Imperfections and the Chaotic Sea of ​​Literature, and you've seen those out-of-control literary energies. You should know that there are indeed too many chaotic literary energies in the world."

Xue Xiang nodded: "Yes."

"That's the problem."

Xue Antai put down his teacup, his voice low and deep, "The Literary Dao Stele is indeed used to suppress those chaotic literary energies. But since the sage has already aligned with the Way of Heaven, logically speaking, the literary energies in this world should be returned to orthodoxy. How can there be chaos? Have you thought about that?"

Xue Xiang was slightly taken aback, then shook his head and said, "Please give me some pointers, Sixth Grandfather."

"I do not know either."

Xue Antai looked out the window at the night, the candlelight flickering in the wind as if it were hesitating for him. "The only thing that can be confirmed is that there is great terror within the Wendao Stele."

Xue Xiang raised his eyes, his expression solemn.

Xue Antai continued, "As far as I know, among those who have achieved outstanding results through contemplating the Literary Dao Stele throughout history, very few have been able to break through to the Nascent Soul Realm. Some of those people perished early, while others simply disappeared. As for the specific reasons, no one can explain them to this day."

He paused, then said in an even softer tone, "If I were to live again, I probably wouldn't contemplate the Wendao Stele."

Xue Xiang's expression changed drastically.

Xue Antai's gaze seemed to be illuminated by the firelight, yet it also seemed to conceal deep shadows: "The two sixth grandfathers I know have never contemplated the Wendao Stele, and they are still peacefully roaming in the Nascent Soul Realm."

On the contrary, I severed my cultivation level early on, and am now barely clinging to life, half-dead.

Xue Xiang asked in a deep voice, "Sixth Grandfather, are you trying to say that your fall from the Nascent Soul Realm was related to your meditation on the Literary Dao Stele?"

Xue Antai gazed at the candle flame, remained silent for a moment, and slowly nodded: "Perhaps I am wrong. But over the years, I have carefully reflected on it—the only thing I cannot grasp within my literary palace is the literary flowers that I obtained when contemplating the Literary Dao Stele."

He spoke very softly, as if afraid of disturbing something still lurking within him.

"Those flowers of literary lineage should have been a reward from the heavenly way of literary lineage to future generations, a great enhancement to the precious tree of literary energy. But later I discovered that they did not obey my command, but instead grew and died on their own in the quiet night, blooming like a howl and falling like a weeping."

However, these cultural flowers did indeed greatly help my cultivation and combat power.

To this day, I cannot confirm whether the various misfortunes I experienced after entering the Nascent Soul Realm stemmed from that meditation on the Literary Dao Stele.

Xue Xiang's expression froze, and his fingertips tightened slightly.

"So you mean I shouldn't visualize the Wendao Stele this time?"

Xue Xiang found it hard to accept for a moment, after all, he had been hoping to break through his realm by visualizing the Wen Dao Stele for a long time.

Xue Antai shook his head: "I'm just pointing out the potential risks. Without the blessing of those literary flowers, the cultivation of literary energy is destined to be extremely slow."

He picked up his teacup, the tea inside slightly cool. "Those two sixth grandfathers I mentioned, who were at the Nascent Soul stage, never once contemplated the Literary Dao Stele in their lives. But do you know how long it took them to reach that stage?"

Xue Xiang looked up.

"More than five hundred years."

Xue Antai said slowly, "They honed their skills little by little on their own, and their poetry, literary style, and spiritual intent were all nurtured by the passage of time. They eventually reached the Divine Realm, but the path ahead had become a faint glimmer, and it was difficult to make any further progress."

He sighed and turned his gaze back to Xue Xiang: "So, whether you meditate or not is up to you. The path beneath the inscription is both a shortcut and a dangerous one; whether you take it or not is entirely up to you."

Xue Xiang still couldn't believe that the Wen Dao Stele would have a problem, and asked in a deep voice, "Sixth Grandfather, is the Wen Dao Stele really left behind by a sage?"

Xue Antai nodded: "Yes."

Xue Xiang frowned slightly and asked again, "Can you be absolutely certain?"

Xue Antai looked at him, his tone resolute: "There is absolutely no mistake about this. Both the ancient records and the vast sacred intent contained within the Wendao Stele prove this point."

That is not a power that later generations could forge. Only a sage, before merging with Heaven, could leave such a mark in the Heavenly Way.

Xue Xiang said, "Since the Wendao Stele was left by the sage, there's no reason for the sage to harm us, his descendants. What does Sixth Grandfather think?"

Xue Antai was stunned: "I've never thought of this idea before."

...Am I really overthinking this?

I hope so…

Before they knew it, the two had been talking for almost an hour.

The wind outside gradually died down, leaving only the candlelight flickering gently.

Xue Antai put down his teacup, his gaze softening slightly, and said, "Brother Anfeng, with a grandson like you, you can rest in peace in the afterlife."

He slowly stood up, took out a jet-black bead from his sleeve, and handed it over: "You call me Grandpa, so I can't not give you a gift."

Xue Xiang hurriedly accepted it, showing no restraint whatsoever.

The beads feel slightly cool to the touch, and their surface resembles stone but is not quite stone, with a deep, eerie glow in their blackness.

“This is an ancient treasure called the Yingtian Stone.” Xue Antai said calmly, “It contains an ancient magic array, whose weight can be increased by willpower, up to the strength of a mountain.”

He smiled slightly, his gaze sweeping over Xue Xiang's knuckles: "I've heard that you can write on the Xuan Tai Iron Mother with your finger strength, so I know you must have had some extraordinary encounter in physical arts."

The path of body refinement, a glorious and righteous one, is difficult precisely because it requires cultivating inner strength and tempering muscles and bones. This item is perfectly suited for you.

Xue Xiang was stunned for a moment, his heart trembling.

Those things that can be called "treasures" are all relics that have been passed down for thousands of years. How can they be obtained lightly?
He solemnly put away the Yingtian Stone, stood up and bowed: "Thank you for the treasure, Sixth Grandfather."

Before he finished speaking, a gust of wind blew through the bamboo curtain, causing the candlelight to flicker.

When I looked up again, Xue Antai's figure had already disappeared silently into the night.

When Xue Xiang left the inn, a new moon was already hanging in the sky.

He originally intended to return to Canglan Academy immediately to study the Yingtian Stone, but remembering that he had agreed to Zhao Huanhuan's invitation, he still moved over there.

The night was quiet and gentle, the moonlight as fine as gauze.

Zhao Huanhuan sat alone in her boudoir, a small glass lamp lit on the table, its warm yellow light casting a dreamlike glow over the entire room.

She decorated the room in a very warm and inviting manner, with freshly picked white peonies in a vase, a few strands of incense sticks swirling around, and a faint sandalwood scent filling the air.

She had already dismissed the maids in the courtyard, and even the sound of the wind outside the window seemed unusually quiet.

She rested her chin on her hand, staring blankly at the half-closed window, her thoughts as lingering as a drizzle.

The image of Xue Xiang floated into my mind—his green robe, his handsome, lean face, and of course, his incomparably valiant steel spear.

Suddenly, the sound of light footsteps came from outside the window.

Zhao Huanhuan's heart skipped a beat. She looked up and saw a familiar figure standing outside the window in the moonlight, smiling at her.

Zhao Huanhuan leaped up, her thin nightgown barely able to contain her boobs as they bounced.

Her face was flushed as she stood by the door, beckoning to Xue Xiang, "You're up to your old tricks again, why aren't you coming in?"

"What do you need, young lady? I just need to relieve myself and would like to borrow a place to do my part."

Xue Xiang stared at Zhao Huanhuan with a smile, looking increasingly rugged.

Zhao Huanhuan blushed, realizing he was up to no good.

As if possessed, she led him into the boudoir, pointed to the newly made chamber pot, and told him to do as he pleased.

When Xue Xiang claimed that he was inconvenient when he was in good health, Zhao Huanhuan lowered her eyes and smiled, leaned over the window, looked out the window, gently shook the hill, and blew out the candle.

The lights are bright, the shadows are intertwined, and the peach grove and valley have their own unique charm.

After another night of revelry, when Zhao Huanhuan was reduced to a puddle of mud, Xue Xiang was still thinking about the grand event of viewing the stele the next day. He covered her with a brocade quilt, then went out in high spirits.

Upon returning to his cave dwelling at Canglan Academy, Xun Sizhou was still cultivating on the green platform in front of the cave. When he saw Xue Xiang return, he hurriedly got up to get busy, but Xue Xiang stopped him.

“Young master, you have once again displayed your extraordinary abilities today. I can even see strange phenomena in the sky from here.”

Speak, and seek the Four Continents to activate the spirit array within the cave.

"Is there anything to eat? I'm hungry."

Xue Xiang wasn't in a hurry to enter the cave. He sat on the blue stone in front of the door, looking at the myriad lights of the Canglan Mountains and feeling the cold wind.

"Yes, I have beef buns, more than ten pounds left. I'll steam them and they'll be ready soon."

Xun Sizhou was quick and efficient. In no time, he brought two large steamers of buns and a pot of rice porridge to Xue Xiang.

Xue Xiang ate until his mouth was full of butter, and his internal organs felt warm. He then told Xun Sizhou to go to bed.

He then took out the Yingtian Stone given to him by Xue Antai, and with his mind, the bead in his palm flashed with light and immediately became heavier.

As Xue Xiang continued to increase his strength, the veins on his left hand began to bulge, and the green platform beneath his feet began to shake violently, startling Xun Sizhou.

Xue Xiang quickly shifted his thoughts, and the Yingtian Stone returned to normal.

He was secretly delighted, knowing that Xue Antai had given him a real treasure, and he would no longer have to worry about training his strength and building his body.

He slept soundly through the night until the next day when Xun Sizhou woke him up.

After a hearty meal, the bells of the main peak rang, and the day to view the monument finally arrived.

…………

The sky is high and the clouds are wide; the autumn chill is penetrating to the bone.

The plaza in front of Xinghe Temple is as vast as a mirror. The bluestone pavement shines brightly under the spiritual light, and the array patterns on the ground appear and disappear, flowing with a faint light like breathing.

Ancient bronze lamp pillars stood on all four sides, their flames burning quietly and casting the shadows of countless cultivators.

The square for viewing the monument was now completely deserted.

The wind swept through the mountains, rustling the scrolls and the fabric of clothes.

Hundreds of Confucian scholars stood in orderly and solemn rows.

They are divided into three major camps.

On the far west side were the disciples of Canglan Academy, mostly dressed in blue with egret and cloud patterns embroidered on their chests. They exuded a restrained aura and were the most scholarly.

The southern camp consisted of the Jiannan Academy's forces, mostly dressed in black robes and belts, and numbered quite a few. Most of the Jiannan Academy's high-ranking members had come with them, including Xue Xiang's acquaintance, Elder Shen Baoshi of the Etiquette Department.

The northernmost crowd was the most chaotic, yet its imposing presence subtly overwhelmed the forces of the two major academies; that was the central camp.

The personnel here are all pre-selected quotas assigned by the imperial court.

Most of its members are from secret territories, from families of officials in the capital, or from families that have received imperial favors over generations.

Although their clothing was not uniform, each of them wore a seal, and each of them exuded a powerful and imposing aura.

These three groups stood apart, subtly forming a tripartite balance of power.

The autumn wind swept across the mountaintop, causing the flags to flutter in the wind, and the world was solemn and serene.

As a deep bell rang out from in front of the temple, the Confucian scholars lined up on both sides stood at attention.

The spiritual light beneath the array patterns gradually illuminated, revealing several figures slowly descending the Star River Stone Steps.

The first to appear was Mu Qingniu, the head of the Zhangyin Temple and the head of the Discipline Department of Canglan Prefecture.

This man was dressed in a black robe with a gold seal embroidered with a coiled dragon on his chest, and had a cold and stern expression.

With his authority over oversight, no one dared to speak recklessly wherever the Discipline Inspection Commission went.

Following closely behind was another official in charge—Tong Annan, the Director of the Bureau of Civil Affairs.

He was dressed in plain clothes, his hair tied up with a blue hairpin, and his steps were very steady. He was known for his integrity and uprightness. He once quelled corruption in three prefectures with a single case. His imposing manner was not obvious, but there was a sense of ruthlessness about him.

Next was Ni Quanwen, the Palace Attendant of Canglan Academy, a famous handsome middle-aged man whose scholar's robe was embroidered with the patterns of three mountains and nine rivers.

This person was also an old acquaintance of Xue Xiang's Mingde Dongxuan alias, and Xue Xiang had dealt with him quite a bit.

But today, when they met again, Ni Quanwen's aura was clearly different, indicating that he had entered a new realm, probably having broken through the shackles of the Core Formation stage and entered the Nascent Soul stage.

Following behind were the elders of the academy, each carrying an order of the academy and a scroll. They exuded a gentle and kind aura. Wei Fan, Xue Xiang's mentor, was also among them.

On the other side, several figures also stepped out from the Jiannan Academy camp.

The leader was Fan Xingchen, the Palace Attendant, dressed in black and carrying a sword. He was known for his sharp features, with sword-like eyebrows that reached his temples.

Afterwards, the elders of each academy lined up, their black shirts forming a tide, their scholarly aura almost tearing through the air.

Shen Baoshi, the elder of the Jiannan Academy's rites department whom Xue Xiang had met at Wei Fan's house, was also among them.

A moment later, a group of nobles and officials also emerged from the central camp.

Shen Sanshan walked in court attire, with a purple-gold ceremonial seal hanging at his waist. His face was dignified, and his steps were neither hurried nor slow.

He was originally a key official in the Hall of Rites, and was ordered to supervise this grand event of viewing the stele.

The entourage consisted of distinguished officials and renowned scholars from various prefectures, all dressed in formal attire and with solemn expressions.

For a time, the square in front of Xinghe Temple was filled with celebrities and high-ranking officials.

Another melodious bell rang out, and suddenly a burst of light appeared in the northwest corner of the square.

Dozens of cultivators, clad in bronze-patterned robes, marched in, their robes embroidered with intricate array patterns, their steps perfectly synchronized.

"The guards have arrived."

Someone whispered.

As soon as the guards arrived, they got to work.

Several array masters lined up in four directions and began to set up spirit stakes. The array patterns spread from the edge of the square all the way to the base of the monument. The spiritual light intertwined into a net, and the faint sound of thunder rolled on the ground.

Discussions rose and fell in response.

"The protective measures this time are even higher than in previous years."

"That's how it should be. The Wendao Stele is only opened once every three years, and the crowds are huge. If someone takes the opportunity to cause trouble, the consequences are unpredictable."

"The Literary Dao Stele can bestow not only the flower of literary lineage. The vast literary lineage within the stele can temper the soul and shape the body. Even evil cultivators, witches, and spirits want to take the opportunity to absorb some of it. Who knows if they are hiding in the shadows, waiting for their chance to strike."

"This is only one of the reasons. Since the sacred stele is connected to the Heavenly Dao, if it is not protected by an array, once you start meditating on it, even the mountains and rivers will be shattered."

Half an incense stick later, as the array sealed, the spiritual light on the ground grew stronger, and a pale golden protective curtain slowly rose, enveloping the entire square and making the sky lose its color.

"The formation is complete."

The leader of the protective camp shouted loudly.

The whole audience was silent.

(End of this chapter)