I proved immortality through the imperial examination.

Chapter 213 Falling Out
Xue Xiang swept through the crowd, destroying several cyan literary energy clusters and obtaining several literary vein flowers.

He felt no joy, but rather some anxiety, mainly because it had taken too long.

At this rate, the agreed-upon two-hour time is fast approaching.

These few cultural relics he has collected are far from enough to fulfill his ambition of viewing the stele.

But since things have come to this point, there's no use in being anxious.

Xue Xiang savored the memories of his interactions with the literary group, finding them increasingly interesting with each passing moment.

The literary spirit seemed to be alive, something with thoughts.

The literary atmosphere seemed to be "reading" him.

He recalled the crimson-scaled Kui beast from earlier; it had only been a fleeting thought from the Classic of Mountains and Seas that had materialized into its form.

And then there was that one time when "nothingness" erupted. I had unintentionally emptied my mind, and it was able to understand the concept of "nothingness" and transform itself into nothingness.

This is no simple illusion.

It is clearly the "meaning of the stele" that uses the atmosphere of the text as a medium to understand the thoughts and temperament of the person viewing the stele.

"The Wendao Stele... is probably not a test left by the sage, but rather a deeper sea of ​​will."

Xue Xiang looked up at the sky, recalling Xue Antai's admonition, and a wave of emotion surged in his heart.

He was deep in thought. Ahead, the earth's veins rumbled faintly, and new clusters of spiritual energy floated in the distance.

The cloud of energy shone with a soft blue light, yet it was entwined with wisps of blood mist.

Xue Xiang shifted his focus to the monster.

He prefers dealing with monsters to "nothingness".

Before long, the literary energy burst open.

Amidst the flames, a colossal beast, as large as a mountain, materialized.

Its body was bulging with muscles, its skin was like stone and iron, its arms dragged iron chains, horns grew from its shoulders, and ancient runes were engraved on its chest.

As soon as it appeared, it stomped the earth violently. The entire void trembled and rippled.

That power wasn't primarily based on fluctuations in literary energy; rather, it resembled the explosive power of a body cultivator, condensed in the muscles and bones and integrated into the flesh.

The Earth-Shattering Barbarian roared and pounced, its claws as thick as mountains.

Xue Xiang stepped forward and threw a punch.

The air shattered instantly as the two brute forces clashed head-on.

This attack was like a thousand mountains colliding; the monster opposite shattered instantly, and a cluster of azure vein flowers entered Xue Xiang's brow.

Xue Xiang didn't delay any longer and continued forward, the terrain beneath his feet becoming increasingly treacherous.

Volcanoes, sand seas, ice fields, and thunder swamps intertwine to form a desolate world, where literary energy and flowing light are like serpents swimming in a storm, sometimes appearing and sometimes disappearing.

Suddenly, a thunderous explosion came from ahead.

He looked up and saw a figure in crimson robes standing amidst the turbulent flow of rubble not far away.

The woman's clothes fluttered in the wind, her hair flew wildly, and her long brush in her hand was like a spear. With a turn of the brush, she carved thousands of talismans that turned into flowing clouds that swirled around her.

It was Song Tingfang.

Her opponent was a colossal beast with a body entirely of crimson gold.

The beast resembled a Pixiu, but had three eyes, two wings on its back, and dozens of chains hanging from its belly.

Each chain burned with crimson flames, like a vein of earth fire, drawing in spiritual energy from all directions into a vortex.

The beast's mouth opened slightly, and a sudden gust of wind arose, even drawing in and stirring up the surrounding literary energy.

Song Tingfang's brush moved like dragons and snakes; with each stroke, the void cracked open with light, and the character "镇" (zhen, meaning "suppress") shot out, transforming into a mysterious seal that crashed down, forcefully pressing the monster down by ten feet.

However, the beast roared and howled, the chains suddenly snapped, blood light shot into the sky, and flames scattered in all directions.

Forced to retreat several steps, Song Tingfang's shadow rose and fell beneath her feet, her breath slightly disordered, yet she remained clear-headed.

Xue Xiang was about to step forward when she stopped him with a sharp shout, "Don't move!"

She steadied herself, drew a long, round stroke, and wrote seven characters in succession. Her literary talent surged like a tide, locking the monster into the barrier.

The seven characters shone with light, transforming into a talisman that silenced the heavens and earth.

She turned around and said solemnly, "This illusion within the stele cannot be helped. Here, everything is guided by one's will; if others intervene, the literary energy will backfire and cause disaster."

Xue Xiang nodded slightly.

Before long, the giant beast shattered, turning into white light that scattered into Song Tingfang's brow.

Song Tingfang took a short breath and glanced at the sky full of flowing light. "Go north. That's where the will of the Literary Dao Stele converges. The chances of high-level literary energy clusters appearing there are the greatest."

While lower-level flowers can be combined to create higher-level flowers, it takes too much time.

By now, about one or two hours have passed, so don't make a mistake.

"With your abilities, failing to obtain the Black Vein Flower by the time you arrive here constitutes a failure."

"Wait, you said only a minute or two has passed?"

Xue Xiangqi was surprised.

Song Tingfang said, "That's right, this is an illusion, and the flow of time is virtual."

It might feel like time flew by, like when you're dreaming; you sleep all night, and then you wake up quickly, right?

As she spoke, Song Tingfang took off the bracelet on her wrist. "This is the Mingxing Bracelet. It uses the star patterns in the sky to tell time and will not lose its accuracy due to illusions."

You use this to anchor time.

Just then, a flash of purple light appeared in the sky.

Xue Xiang looked up and saw a purple aura slowly condensing at the far end of the starry sky, shaped like a lotus stamen, with a noble and profound aura.

In that instant, heaven and earth seemed to be drawn to it.

Noticing his gaze, Song Tingfang whispered, "That's a purple cluster of literary energy. Breaking through it will cause innate literary energy to overflow, which can be drawn into one's own body. That's the key to unlocking the golden literary flower."

She murmured, "At most, a single Wendao Stele can produce twelve clusters of purple energy and three clusters of golden energy. To obtain even one of them is a chance to ascend to heaven."

If one can obtain the golden-veined flower, one's destiny to become a future overlord is assured.

If you don't seize the opportunity when it comes, you might live in regret for three lifetimes.

Xue Xiang nodded solemnly, a burning desire igniting in his heart.

Without another word, he turned and soared into the sky, light flowing beneath his feet to form a bridge, and starlight paving the way as he sped after the purple cloud of energy.

Xue Xiang sped along the tail of the purple aura, his feet shimmering with light.

A purple cloud of energy floated ahead, sometimes near, sometimes far, as if intentionally drawing him to chase it.

Within that mass of light, patterns resembling lotus stamens flickered faintly. When the light receded, it was like still water; when it burst forth, it was like thunder, radiating an extremely strong spiritual pressure.

He sped up and finally closed in.

Suddenly, a gust of air stirred to the west.

A dark shadow streaked through the air, accompanied by swirling flames.

The man was tall and imposing, carrying a sword of flowing light on his back; he was none other than Wang Baxian.

Their gazes met in the void.

The purple aura also stopped, its surface shimmering as if it were secretly observing.

It's like a smiling sprite, hanging silently in the starry sky, urging them to compete.

Wang Baxian raised his sword and pointed it at Xue Xiang. His aura suddenly surged, his robes billowed, and his literary energy swirled around him like waves.

He said coldly, "I have no intention of wasting my time here. Fighting here will only increase our energy expenditure. I will settle the score with you after we leave the Monument Realm."

After saying that, he sheathed his sword, turned around, and fled into the distance.

"This kid knows when to let go and when to hold back."

Xue Xiang secretly gave him a thumbs up and watched him leave.

The purple aura trembled slightly, but it didn't flee, as if waiting for Xue Xiang's choice.

Xue Xiang dared not waste any time. He immersed his mind in it, thinking of the monsters from the Classic of Mountains and Seas.

He enjoys dealing with monsters.

The aura immediately trembled violently, and layers of spiritual light spread out, but instead of transforming into a monster, it transformed into a middle-aged man.

Xue Xiang was greatly alarmed.

The middle-aged man, dressed in blue, stood in the void with his hands behind his back.

His face was ordinary, yet he possessed an imposing presence that was impossible to look directly at.

His eyes were as deep as stars, and his brows revealed a serene gaze overlooking the world.

Lotus blossoms rose beneath his feet, and golden characters shimmered on his robes, each stroke seemingly carrying the laws of heaven and earth.

He remained motionless, and the entire starry sky seemed to stand still because of him.

Xue Xiang felt a slight tremor in his heart, as if an invisible force was pressing down on his chest.

The man's gaze slowly fell upon him.

He showed neither anger nor joy, as if time, space, all things, and fate were merely a part of his thoughts.

In that instant, the Milky Way trembled slightly, and billions of streams of light surrounded him, as if subjects were paying homage.

He slightly raised his hand, and the reflection of an ancient stele appeared in the void, the inscription on it being the source pattern of the Wendao Stele.

The words transformed into rays of light, entwining Xue Xiang's soul, as if examining his literary talent and will.

Xue Xiang seemed to stand at the end of the universe, his soul illuminated and revealed.

A sudden illusion arose in his mind, as if all his past and future would be completely seen through if that person simply opened his lips.

However, the middle-aged man remained silent, his gaze as fixed as a star.

"As expected of a purple aura, its illusionary abilities are so powerful. If you didn't know better, you would think it was a saint resurrected."

Xue Xiang sneered inwardly, channeling his energy throughout his body, and shot towards the man like an arrow.

He still used the same old method to deal with monsters: close-range attacks to crush them with force.

He stepped forward, his arms flared, and his spiritual power erupted like a tidal wave. His fist swirled up countless waves of energy, directly striking the man.

That was his usual close-range heavy attack when dealing with the Qi monster.

The fists flashed in layers, their energy exploding like thunder.

No matter how fast he attacked, the man could always subtly shift his position the instant his fist landed. Without any unnecessary movements, he could dodge perfectly.

Xue Xiang's heart sank, and he abruptly withdrew the qi in his hand.

He stared at the man, frowning, and said, "You can guess what I'm thinking."

Because all his moves were anticipated.

The sage nodded slightly, his gaze clear as water, as if reflecting all things in the world.

He spoke slowly, “You are a smart person, but not so smart. You are smart because you know that intention is the source, but not so smart because you do not yet know that intention is boundless.”

He raised his hand slightly, and a stream of blue light flowed from his fingertips, illuminating the starry sky in all directions.

“I am you, and you are me. What is there to speculate about?”

As soon as he finished speaking, waves arose from the stillness of the surrounding area.

"What a wicked person, daring to disturb my mind."

Xue Xiang roared, and the Gatling gun condensed from the void. As it rotated, runes flowed into rings, and countless points of light gathered at the muzzle.

He raised both arms and poured in spiritual energy.

With a deafening roar, the sparks exploded, and dense beams of light pierced through the void, transforming into countless tongues of fire that shot towards the man.

He raised the person's palm, and ancient seals appeared in his eyes.

He recited ancient poems softly, each word like a stone striking a bell.

In the beginning there was no name, yet everything was distinct.

Stars fall into the sea, bones dry up and turn to dust.

All things with form are manifestations of my will.
Even the wind can still discern the heart of a person.

The sound of poetry resonated, and the literary energy flowed like a waterfall, descending from the sky.

Those words transformed into a barrier of flowing light, hanging down as an invisible curtain of light.

The flashes of light from the Gatling gun struck it and dissipated completely, leaving only a faint glimmer.

Xue Xiang stared intently and saw golden characters floating on the layer of literary energy screen. Each character carried the weight of a star and slowly rotated in the void.

He was shocked. Was this still a cluster of literary energy?

In an instant, the wilderness returned to silence, with only that person's figure still standing in the boundless sea of ​​light, his robes fluttering lightly, as if he were an incarnation of the past and present.

Xue Xiang was shocked and secretly assessed the person in front of him.

To be able to evoke such a vast literary spirit, to use poetry to overcome obstacles, and to control the spirit with intention—this level of skill is simply beyond imagination.

What's even more troublesome is this person's ability to see through people's hearts, which truly put Xue Xiang under pressure from all sides.

Xue Xiang knew that a direct confrontation would be futile.

He concentrated his energy for a moment, and smoke billowed beneath his feet as he tried to escape.

Unexpectedly, the moment the thought crossed his mind, the man had already moved to the northwest, blocking his way and staring at him with a smile. "Why not have a chat? Young man, open your heart and let's talk."

I will give you everything you want.

His words, when spoken, were like a demonic voice, sending a shockwave through people's hearts.

Xue Xiang grew increasingly terrified, guarding his mind and refusing to entertain any thoughts.

Until he saw the literary energy hanging down from the sky, he suddenly had the idea to recite poetry to see if he could attract that literary energy.

Unexpectedly, the moment he had the thought, the man's expression changed.

He shouted urgently, "No, this is really wrong, how could this be..."

Immediately afterwards, he raised his hand and lightly pinched his fingers together, as if he were making calculations.

One breath, two breaths, three breaths—

His face grew increasingly red, veins bulged on his forehead, and his eyes darted around rapidly.

"you you……"

His shout was deafening, and the starry sea trembled.

Xue Xiang felt a tightness in his chest and a chill run down his spine. Suddenly, he understood why this person was acting this way.

It must be that there was something wrong with how the poems I kept hidden in my heart came out, allowing him to discover them.

Because normal poetry and prose definitely come from the heart, while his was scrambled from his memory.

He never imagined that this secret hidden deep in his heart would be discovered by anyone other than himself, even if that person was just a mere cluster of literary energy.

He remained silent, quietly watching the man.

The more frantically the man calculated, the more his body flickered with light and flames, and his face gradually became distorted.

Blood seeped from his forehead, the golden light in his eyes shattered, and even the Milky Way above his head was torn open with cracks.

His body began to tremble, as if countless fragments were escaping from his body.

The spiritual energy between heaven and earth became chaotic, and starlight fell in droves.

The man looked up at the void, his face contorting with rage, and the radiance between his brows shattered inch by inch, like the cracks of a torn monument.

Xue Xiang stood there, staring at the man's torn figure, a strange tremor rising in his heart.

He suddenly realized that this person might be a trace of the sage's lingering resentment, or at least a reflection of the sage's will.

Otherwise, it would be impossible to explain how this person could possess such terrifying abilities.

They possess both the ability to detect their own psychological activities and the profound terror hidden within the origins of their own poetry.

Xue Xiang felt a chill run down his spine with nervousness. Suddenly, a wave of air surged in the western sky.

A streak of crimson light pierced through the air, heading straight for Xue Xiang.

It was Wang Baxian.

His figure swept into the void, and the long sword in his hand transformed into a rainbow of light, slashing down diagonally.

The literary energy gathered into a ring between the sword's edges, seemingly blocking all of Xue Xiang's escape routes.

A gust of wind and thunder surged beneath Xue Xiang's feet. He dodged to the side, a chill rising from between his brows.

He stared coldly at Wang Baxian, "So you wanted me and the Purple Qi Group to fight to the death, and then you would reap the benefits."

Now that the purple aura is faltering, it fears I will seize the purple aura flower, so it has come to cause trouble.

They've put all their energy into the heavens and the sea.

Wang Baxian stood expressionless in the distance, not responding to a word, his long sword dancing in his hand, its light soaring into the sky.

Each of his sword strikes was aimed at blocking Xue Xiang's path to the middle-aged man.

Clearly, Wang Baxian's intentions were extremely clear.

He doesn't seek victory, he only seeks to delay.

Even if it meant sacrificing his own time to view the monument, he absolutely did not want Xue Xiang to obtain that purple cultural flower.

Xue Xiang took a deep step, and the air swirled around his feet.

He smirked and said coldly, "Since you don't want to contemplate the Literary Dao Stele, I'll grant your wish."

Then, he chanted softly, his voice seemingly resonating with the starry sky.
"His frosty beard and chin framed the desolate autumn."

Wearing a white sable fur coat, he went upstairs alone.

Standing with sword in hand, gazing at the stars to the north.
"My life has been a source of worry for the nation."

At that moment, as soon as the literary energy summoned by that person settled, Xue Xiang discovered that the literary energy was extremely lively and could be activated by him.

If he dared not use that literary energy against that person, wouldn't he dare use it against Wang Baxian?

Sure enough, as soon as the poem was recited, the heavens and earth trembled.

The stagnant literary energy surrounding that person was suddenly stirred.

Like raging waves, they rolled and churned, quickly coalescing into shape under Xue Xiang's poetic guidance.

Above the starry sky, a giant sword formed from literary energy slowly took shape.

The sword had no edge or blade, and was only three feet long, yet it exuded boundless chill.

The sword, shimmering with purple light and starlight, hung in the sky, seemingly poised to cleave through eternity.

Wang Baxian's expression changed drastically, and he stormed away.

"Isn't it too late?"

Xue Xiang pointed his hand, and the light from the three-foot-long sword suddenly shot out, instantly transforming into a sword light tens of millions of feet long.

The sword light had barely been unleashed when it pierced through Wang Baxian, who had fled to a distant place.

Without uttering a sound, he transformed into shattered starlight, scattering across the ground.

Beyond the illusion, within the star map.

Wang Baxian let out a miserable cry and stood up.

Those who witnessed it were all shocked, because everyone understood that the sudden awakening without warning and the absence of the extraordinary phenomenon of the Flower of Literature could only mean one thing: that he had perished in the illusion.

If someone else had fallen out of the illusion, there certainly wouldn't have been such a sensation.

However, Wang Baxian, who had unexpectedly emerged as the strongest among them, surprised everyone.

Wang Baxian's eyes were bloodshot, his whole body was trembling, and he leaped to the center of the square, shouting to the sky, "I, Wang Baxian, am irreconcilably at odds with Xue Xiang, and we will fight to the death!"

Shen Sanshan was secretly pleased and asked loudly, "Friend Wang, why are you so furious? Has something gone wrong?"

Wang Baxian's chest heaved violently, his face alternating between pale and flushed. He suppressed his anger and said, "I originally intended to hunt down the Purple Vein Flower, and I was about to succeed when Xue Xiang secretly attacked me, using despicable means to knock me out of the illusion! I swear I will not rest until I avenge this!"

A stir ran through the crowd. Xu Yifan stepped forward, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and said loudly, "Xue Xiang is upright and honest, and has never done anything underhanded. It seems that some people tried to steal a chicken but lost the rice instead, and are now framing him. Friend Wang, do you dare to swear to God?"

Wang Baxian snorted coldly, his aura suddenly exploding, his gaze locking onto Xu Yifan with a chilling look, "Who are you, daring to speak to me? State your name!"

Xu Yifan was intimidated by Wang Baxian's imposing manner. He shrank back, his face flushed, and he took a half step back into the crowd.

Wei Fan said in a deep voice, "Friend Wang, who is right and who is wrong? Once Xue Xiang comes out, a confrontation will make it clear."
If it is Xue Xiang's fault, I, as his teacher, will make him apologize to you.

Upon hearing the words "please forgive me," Wang Baxian's expression changed drastically, and he felt a chill run down his spine.

Remembering that the man surnamed Xue was not easy to deal with, he dared not linger any longer. He mumbled a grunt, turned around hastily, and fled the square in a blur, disappearing from sight in a moment.

The square was completely silent, except for the wind that rustled the banners.

(End of this chapter)