I proved immortality through the imperial examination.

Chapter 215 Casting Sentences
Xue Xiang slowly raised his head, his eyes reflecting the starry sky.

With a breath, his voice resonated from the depths of his mind, each word like thunder:
"We must establish a purpose for the people!"

boom--! ! !
The center of the monument exploded, releasing billions of golden rays, and the sky instantly became bright white.

The entire square was bathed in light, and even the golden screen set up by the guards was shaken and buzzed.

The array masters exclaimed in shock, "The spiritual pressure is out of control! This power... is almost as strong as the Wen Dao Stele!"

The mountain wind howled, the banners broke, and they were swept into the clouds.

Even the flames on the ancient bronze lampposts atop the mountain transformed into golden dragons in the fierce wind, spiraling upwards.

The five characters “为生民立命” rose from the center of the monument and appeared in the sky, their light as intense as the sun.

The light shone on everyone, and each person seemed to be struck by an invisible force.

Shen Sanshan's hat was blown off, and his fingernails were already clenched into his palms.

Ni Quanwen's eyes widened, and he almost lost his voice: "He...he took his heart as his wish, and his wish as his sentence..."

Wei Fan's hands trembled as he murmured, "To establish a life for the people... a great wish as high as a mountain..."

Inside Xue Xiangwen Palace, the five characters "establish a destiny for the people" transformed into a new pillar of light, stretching across the palace.

The branches and leaves of the Wenqi Bao tree unfurled once more, and the golden flowers remained steadfast and unshaken.

The entire Wen Palace was as stable as a mountain, and auspicious light rose from its base, enveloping the entire Lingtai.

Xue Xiang closed his eyes, concentrated, and recited aloud again:
"We should carry on the lost learning of the sages and usher in an era of peace for all generations!"

The sound is like a bell, resonating throughout heaven and earth.

The Wendao Stele roared, its flames shooting into the sky!

Golden waves surged from the center of the monument, sweeping across the entire square and the surrounding mountains and rivers.

The mountain spirit beasts lay prostrate on the ground, and the birds scattered in fright.

The clouds were torn apart by golden light, revealing the dazzling stars.

In the square, everyone looked up and saw that in the sky, the four lines transformed into four golden rays, which gathered into a long dragon, swirling around the star map where Xue Xiang was located, forming a huge golden vortex.

Ni Quanwen murmured absentmindedly, "Four sentences to become a saint... He is continuing the saint's lost teachings."

Wei Fan closed his eyes, tears glistening in them. “To establish a heart for heaven and earth, to establish a destiny for the people, to continue the lost learning of the past sages, and to usher in an era of peace for all generations… These four lines fully express the conduct of a Confucian scholar.”

Throughout history, only one person has possessed all of these qualities—a sage!

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire room fell silent.

In the world of the Literary Dao Stele, two golden pillars of creation suddenly transformed into golden literary flowers, which shot into Xue Xiang's brow and entered the Literary Palace, hovering above the Literary Qi Treasure Tree.

In an instant, three golden flowers stood side by side, illuminating the entire Wen Palace.

Xue Xiang was surrounded by golden light, as still as a god.

The other two golden flowers, hidden between Xue Xiang's eyebrows, as usual did not escape the attention of everyone.

The crowd was mesmerized, so much so that they forgot to breathe.

Someone exclaimed, "This is a moment of sentence forging! How can the flower of literary tradition bloom during the process of sentence forging?"

"Never before in history has a writer stirred up the flower of literary tradition while crafting sentences! This is a sign that defies the heavens!"

"There were only three golden flowers inside the Literary Dao Stele, and he has taken them all away. What will become of the Literary Dao Stele now?"

The commotion in the square continued to spread, and the protective spiritual barrier trembled layer by layer.

Ni Quanwen stood in the wind, his sleeves fluttering, but his expression grew increasingly solemn.

He looked up at the Wendao Stele, the golden light in its center had long since dissipated, with only a few wisps of afterglow shimmering between the stele's patterns.

He was more worried than anyone else that the Wendao Stele would be severely damaged by losing the three golden flowers of literary lineage. If the Wendao Stele collapsed as a result, he would be a sinner against Confucianism.

Unlike the hustle and bustle of the square, the illusion inside the monument was deathly silent.

Xue Xiang sat cross-legged, his expression calm and composed, showing no joy whatsoever at the prospect of winning two more flowers of literary talent.

This was because he had confirmed Xue Antai's warning that there was great terror within the Wendao Stele.

The flower of cultural heritage is not something ignorant.

They have thoughts and choices.

The flower of cultural heritage that had appeared earlier transformed into the form of a sage.

Using the guise of a saint, they first deceived him, then used words to bewitch him, switching his mindset and almost driving him to self-immolation.

If not for the benevolent sword within the palace, his consciousness would have already been trapped in eternal damnation.

He stared intently at the two golden petals that had just landed on the Wenqi Treasure Tree, his unease growing ever stronger.

The two golden flowers falling into his literary palace, in the eyes of others, was a divine opportunity, but in his eyes, it was the evil thoughts within the literary stele that had sensed an opportunity.

Why didn't you buy it before?

It was simply a concern that having three beautiful women together would overwhelm Wen Gong.

After all, the mere presence of a golden flower nearly shattered his literary palace.

Why did they infiltrate later?
It was simply because he recited the magnificent four lines of Hengqu, which suppressed the literary court.

Xue Xiang's mind raced, and a chill suddenly ran through him.

Was the Wendao Stele truly meant to suppress the chaotic literary atmosphere of the world?
Or is it suppressing some deeper, more ancient evil?

What exactly are these two beautiful women who entered my literary palace afterward up to?

As soon as the thought arose, his mind settled, and he transformed into a spiritual body, stepping into the Literary Palace.

The literary palace was as silent as night, with the light and shadow of the precious trees casting shadows on the air.

Xue Xiang's mental avatar stood under the tree, looked up and shouted, "Come out, stop pretending to be dead."

Whether you are a saintly remnant or an evil spirit, with your pride, if you still hide your true colors, you won't be worthy of my ridicule as a junior.

His voice resonated, and the golden light trembled.

The two golden flowers vibrated simultaneously, their petals swirling and transforming into two figures, standing on the left and right.

The two men looked exactly like Xue Xiang, except their brows were colder and their auras were more peculiar.

The man on the left said coldly, "Hey kid, shut up. Either take us out of here, or you can just waste your time here."

The man on the right smiled even more faintly, “We have already been locked up for hundreds of thousands of years, we are not afraid of being locked up for hundreds of thousands more years.”

Xue Xiang narrowed his eyes and said, "I roughly know what you are."

Xue Xiang pointed at them and said what he had guessed, “You are the evil thoughts that the sage failed to eradicate after he merged with the Dao. These 108 literary tablets are all for suppressing you.”

His mind, grafted with an evil spirit, now reveals the answers to many hidden secrets with just a slight thought.

The man on the left scoffed, "So what if you guessed right? Throughout history, countless people have contemplated the Wendao Stele, a flower of literary lineage, which is a seed containing our thoughts."

Xue Xiangdao said, "Therefore, those Confucian scholars who have cultivated to the highest level are in danger of losing their minds. It is you who take the opportunity to invade their bodies and seize their consciousness."

The man on the right nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "Every flower of cultural heritage is a door. When someone knocks, we welcome them."

They want the flower of cultural heritage, so we will give it to them. As for whether the evil thoughts planted within that flower will take root, sprout, and grow within them, that depends on their own fate.

Xue Xiang coldly shouted, "To describe the act of seizing another's body and plotting against another's cultivation in such a refined and elegant way, you truly deserve to be called the evil thoughts of saints."

However, you've miscalculated; you're trying to take advantage of me today.

Xue Xiang, on the right, spoke first, his expression indifferent: "Now that we're in, we have no intention of leaving."

You probably don't understand how powerful your four sentences are.

To be honest, I have never seen anyone whose verses could suppress the literary palace so firmly, enough to support the gathering of the three golden flowers.

Now, your Wen Palace is our favorite place of practice.

If you know what's good for you, we'll teach you immortal techniques to help you cultivate.

Everyone held their own views, and all was well.

If you insist on causing trouble, we're happy to oblige.

While inwardly sneering, Xue Xiang was also pondering a way to break the deadlock.

The man on the left chuckled, "What's even more remarkable is your flawless body. I'm curious how you managed to possess someone else's body, and how you can achieve such perfect harmony with a stranger. Such a body is simply perfect."

Meeting you is a once-in-hundred-thousand-years opportunity.

Therefore, I advise you to be sensible and not to try to drive us away.”

Xue Xiang was furious and wanted to use the Renjian sword to attack the two, but the Renjian sword simply wouldn't obey his commands.

The two men stared at Xue Xiang as if he were a child.

One person even suggested to Xue Xiang, "It's not that there's no way for us to get out, unless you destroy these four lines."

Xue Xiang remained silent.

Another person laughed loudly, "These four lines are the eternal and indelible words of Confucianism. Destroy them? Even if that dead ghost were to come back to life, he would not be able to do it..."

"There's no such thing as eternal indestructibility; it's just empty talk and intimidation. What real insight does it offer?"

Xue Xiang sneered, "It's just a toothache curse, and it just so happened to be answered by Heaven."

The two stared at Xue Xiang without saying a word.

They naturally knew that these four lines were not written by Xue Xiang, just as those verses whose origins they couldn't even guess didn't grow out of Xue Xiang's mind, but were collected from his memory.

The two of them were extremely curious about what kind of existence Xue Xiang was, and why there was an existence in the world whose origins they couldn't even fathom.

As the two remained silent, Xue Xiang's mental avatar pointed to the four lines of Hengqu in the Wen Palace and said, "You two say this is indestructible for ten thousand generations, and I will prove it to you today."

The saying goes, "To establish a heart for Heaven and Earth is to seek a heart for Heaven and Earth, for Heaven and Earth are inherently without a heart; it is scholars who insist on establishing a heart for Heaven and Earth."

It's nothing more than establishing moral dogmatism.

They wanted to set an example for the morality of all people through their own.

As for the suffering of the people, it can all be ignored; this is the heart of Heaven and Earth.

Is this the kind of heart Heaven and Earth possess?

As soon as this sentence was uttered, a huge crack suddenly appeared on the page above the literary palace, on the phrase "establishing the heart for heaven and earth".

In an instant, the entire Wen Palace was thrown into turmoil and upheaval.

The two men, their evil intentions manifested, looked at each other in horror; they had never imagined such a thing could happen.

The phrase was something Xue Xiang shouted out to himself, and it could also be broken by himself.

What's even more terrifying is that Xue Xiang's rebuke actually exposed the true meaning of "establishing a heart for heaven and earth".

Xue Xiang was overjoyed. He had only risked his life, and since it had worked, he continued to shout, "The so-called establishment of a life for the people is nothing but an excuse for being an official."

To continue the lost learning of the sages is to grasp all truth and condemn all those who differ from oneself as heretics…

Crack! The sentence breaks again.

"shut up!"

The two shouted in unison, their eyes filled with terror.

Just as one person was about to make a move, the usually quiet Renjian suddenly stood up.

"No, if you continue like this, once the verses are shattered, the literary palace will be in turmoil and will destroy everything..."

"You are courting death. Before the literary palace is destroyed, we can escape. But your literary palace will be destroyed forever..."

Xue Xiang ignored the two men and continued to shout, "The so-called creation of peace for all generations is nothing more than the biggest pie in the sky so far."

There has never been true peace in this world. No matter how prosperous the times, the lower classes are always impoverished and apathetic.

Xue Xiang continued speaking eloquently, and the cracks on the cast inscriptions increased, causing the entire literary palace to tremble violently, as if it would shatter at any moment.

With his two evil intentions manifesting, Xue Xiang finally lost his composure.

They never expected that Xue Xiang would be so ruthless, willing to destroy the Wen Palace to drag them down with him.

A piercing scream: "You've gone mad! That's your spiritual platform! With the collapse of your literary palace, even your soul will be torn to shreds!"

One of them, his face contorted with rage and his eyes blazing with venom, said, “Fine, very well! You destroyed the Literary Palace, so we’ll watch you die by your own hand! This world will not tolerate you, so we’ll wait outside and watch you turn to ashes!”

Before they finished speaking, the entire Wen Palace had descended into chaos.

The sky collapsed, the Wenqi Treasure Tree broke off branches and flew about, its roots broke off from the ground, and the broken leaves ignited with flames.

The wind and thunder raged, like the wailing of ten thousand gods.

The two fake Xue Xiangs simultaneously unleashed a shrill curse, transforming into two streams of light that forcefully pierced the ceiling and escaped this collapsing world. For a moment, Xue Xiang stood alone in the center of the collapsed spiritual platform.

The literary energy surged back like a tidal wave, the four sacred words were shattered, and myriad rays of light danced wildly, making the entire literary palace resemble a post-apocalyptic ruin.

He felt a buzzing in his skull, and his consciousness was being pulled so hard it was almost shattered.

My blood and qi surged, and my heart felt as if it were being pierced by a thousand needles.

Cracks in the palace stretched from the ground to the sky, and everything was collapsing.

Xue Xiang remained unmoved by the eight winds, as calm as a god, simply because he had once been transformed into a sage. His mind was as clear as a mirror; to restore order to the literary realm, he only needed to recast the sentences.

To forge a line that is even more generous, domineering, and eternally enduring than the four lines of Zhang Zai.

Is there such a sentence in the world?

The answer is yes!

He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and felt a burning heat rise in his chest. He slowly opened his mouth, his voice low but resounding, "Serve the people!"

The moment those four words were uttered, the heavens and earth roared.

Deep within the literary palace, the cracked golden patterns transformed into countless rays of light, extending outward, piercing through the void, and penetrating countless fragments of other dimensions.

Every ray of light is like a burning belief, drawing the breath of another world.

Wilderness, snow-capped mountains, rivers, city walls.

There were soldiers in military uniforms, scholars holding scrolls, and craftsmen and farmers in tattered clothes.

In their respective times and spaces, they heard that cry—"Serve the people!"

Some looked up, some shed tears, and some gripped their hammers, spears, and pens tightly.

At that moment, time and space folded, and countless thoughts converged into the same vast spiritual realm.

War drums resounded in the void.

That is the sound of ancient drums, which once rose to protect the mountains and rivers, and now it is reignited for the common people.

Millions of heroic souls came treading on light, their footprints forming a golden bridge in the flames, spanning countless broken years.

Flags fluttered in the wind, one after another, their crimson color like fire, bursting forth with pillars of light that shot into the sky.

The pillar of light lifted up the shattered Wen Palace, allowing the drooping precious tree to stand tall again.

Among the branches and leaves, countless sparks flickered, transforming into the figures of our ancestors, dressed in tattered clothes, yet full of vigor and high spirits.

Xue Xiang felt a violent tremor in his chest, and the literary energy surged like a river within the literary palace, even causing the usually quiet Renjian to start dancing.

boom!
The palace expanded once more, causing the heavens and earth to tremble.

Those five words echoed in the hearts of all beings, transcending boundaries, transcending life and death, transcending the past and present.

This time, it was no longer a vow, no longer a slogan, but a new phrase, standing tall within the literary palace.

Xue Xiang gasped for breath, his forehead drenched in cold sweat.

He gazed at the newly formed Wenqi Treasure Tree, feeling both awe and relief.

If it weren't for that sudden thought, if it weren't for that slogan piercing his soul, he would have already turned into smoke due to the shattering of the literary palace.

He dared not linger for even a moment, and with a quick thought, he gathered his thoughts.

His spiritual awareness flashed like lightning, escaping the literary palace.

Immediately afterwards, his thoughts left the Wendao Stele and returned to the star map in the square.

The hundreds of people in the square looked at each other in disbelief.

No one has ever seen such a sight—the sentence is formed, and the flower of literary tradition blossoms on its own.

After the flower of cultural heritage has bloomed, this person is now shouting about "serving the people."

No one could understand what this "serving the people" mantra was.

By now, everyone in the officialdom was dumbfounded, and no one knew what Xue Xiang's condition was.

"That means...it failed?"

"Or...did it succeed?"

Some people muttered to themselves, while others stared in alarm at the Wendao Stele.

Shen Baoshi's expression was complicated, his lips trembled slightly, and he said in a low voice: "Throughout history, those who create verses have either succeeded or failed, and there has never been a precedent of a literary lineage emerging from nowhere."

Fan Xingchen's expression was cold and stern, his fingers gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, his eyes showing both respect and fear.

Ni Quanwen stared at the monument for a long time without saying a word, feeling an indescribable sense of bewilderment in his heart.

This viewing of the stele has far surpassed all the records in academic theories and classic texts.

Even more strangely, the phrase "Serve the people" still echoes throughout the world.

As everyone looked up, they could still hear those five words echoing in the wind, their sound like thunder, yet devoid of any literary quality.

"Serving the people?"

"What school of syntax is this?"

"I haven't seen it in any classics."

"It sounds more like a military command..."

The Confucian scholars whispered among themselves, their conversation becoming increasingly chaotic.

Someone frowned and said, "What he shouted wasn't a vow or an oath; it sounded more like a slogan."

Someone added in a low voice, "Could this be his own original phrase? But... this phrase is too strange."

No one could understand what Xue Xiang meant by shouting that.

Even the formation master of the protective camp was stunned: "The spirit patterns were once disordered, but then they stabilized on their own. I really can't tell whether he succeeded in forging the formation or failed."

The entire square was filled with bewilderment.

Just then, Xue Xiang floated down from the star map and landed in the center of the square.

Wei Fan rushed forward, reaching out to help, his face full of worry: "You...did it work or not? What you shouted—"

Xue Xiang opened his eyes slightly, his expression dazed, with a hint of a smile on his lips.

But the light in his eyes faded the next moment, his whole body swayed slightly, leaned forward, and fell into Wei Fan's arms.

Wei Fan quickly supported him and called out to him repeatedly.

Xue Xiang fell silent.

Ni Quanwen squeezed closer, glanced at Xue Xiang's expression, and felt relieved.

Just then, a shout was heard, "Look, the Wendao Stele!"

Everyone looked up at the sky and saw that the Wendao Stele, which was covered in cracks, suddenly became as smooth as new, with no cracks left.

Ni Quanwen was overjoyed. "What... what exactly is going on?"

What has always worried him is that the cracks on the Wendao Stele are continuing to widen, and if this continues, the Wendao Stele will inevitably be damaged.

Today, the cracks on the Wendao Stele suddenly healed, which filled him with joy and surprise.

Mu Qingniu said, "Is it because the four lines 'to establish a heart for heaven and earth' are too earth-shattering, filling the void in the sacred will, and the sacred will is re-condensed, thus making up for the trauma of viewing the stele in the past?"

"That should be it."

Ni Quanwen was overjoyed, and when he looked at Xue Xiang again, he felt more and more familiar with him.

Half an incense stick later, Xue Xiang woke up in an elegant room.

In reality, he was pretending to be asleep, simply because he was unable to face the overwhelming questions.

After everyone had dispersed, he took out the boundary seal and set up a private space.

Immediately, his thoughts sank into the literary palace.

Inside the Wen Palace, mist swirled, and the Wen Qi Bao Shu (Literary Treasure Tree) stood in the center, its shadow appearing slightly more withered than before.

The radiance among the branches and leaves has faded, but on one branch, a golden bud has sprouted, quietly taking shape, its light restrained yet its energy profound.

Xue Xiang knew perfectly well that this flower of literary tradition had withstood the baptism of rewriting, and he was confident that it contained no hidden holy intentions or evil thoughts.

He paused for a moment, then his mind shifted, and he examined the Benevolent Sword.

The Benevolent Sword lay quietly deep within the Literary Palace, its light shimmering faintly.

Aspirations and talents converge around you, like two surging tides, drifting east and west.

Recently, there has been a noticeable surge in the literary talent within the palace.

Xue Xiang already had a guess in his mind—it was the result of that grand banquet to view the stele.

As a warm-up act, the poetic imagery of his recitation of "A Moonlit Night on the Spring River" has spread like a tide, reaching the hearts of millions of readers, and his fame has grown accordingly.

When talent arises, success will naturally follow.

On the other side, the aspirations were also surging, much stronger than before.

Xue Xiang focused his mind into the aura of the vow and immediately saw countless people kneeling in worship before a magnificent temple.

Looking at the temple plaque, it is indeed the Zhongwu Temple.

Xue Xiang guessed that it must be the remains of Zhongwu that he had given to Su Ning, which Su Ning took back and placed in the Zhongwu Temple, attracting many devout men and women to come and pay their respects.

This great achievement was recognized by the Heavenly Dao of Literature, and thus a great deal of blessings were bestowed upon it.

His talent and ambition both increased, but Xue Xiang felt little joy.

Instead, he was filled with worry. He wanted to see whether the Heavenly Dao of Literature would reward or punish him after he mended the cracks in the Literary Dao Stele.

If it is a reward, it proves that what exists within the Literary Dao Stele is indeed holy evil intention, which is disliked by the Heavenly Dao of Literature. This also proves that the Literary Dao Stele is suppressing these evil intentions.

He waited quietly.

Inside the Wen Palace, the sound of the wind was like fine threads swirling around.

Time passed indefinitely, and suddenly the heavens and earth within the Wen Palace trembled, as a vast stream of light converged from all directions.

That's wishful thinking.

Like rivers and seas pouring down, like thousands of horses galloping, the momentum is overwhelming.

In an instant, a giant dragon formed from pure vow energy rose from the Wen Palace, its scales like clouds, its head coiled above the Ren Sword, emitting heavy breathing sounds.

The Benevolent Sword trembled slightly, but it was unable to draw the giant dragon of wish energy.

The dragon let out a long roar, and waves of light spread out, bathing the entire literary palace in a warm golden hue.

Xue Xiang opened his eyes, a surge of joy in his heart.

He knew that he made the right bet.

The Wendao Stele suppresses these evil thoughts. The Wendao Stele mends the cracks and is recognized by the Wenmai Tiandao (the Way of Literature).

This enormous reward for good deeds is proof of that.

After a moment of joy, Xue Xiang was once again filled with dread.

The flower of cultural heritage was originally a symbol of the success of Confucian and Taoist practitioners.

But it is now almost certain that it is also the seed of divine evil.

The higher one's cultivation level, the more profusely the flowers bloom, and the easier it is for evil thoughts to reside within them, gradually devouring the host.

Throughout history, countless people have contemplated before the Wendao Stele, and countless people have received the flower of literary tradition.

On the surface, they shine like stars, but those who cultivate to the point of loneliness at the top often become puppets of evil thoughts.

Some went mad, some fell into depravity, and some, like Xue Antai, severed their cultivation for the sake of clarity, preferring to destroy themselves.

However, even so, the literary energy of those who commit suicide will still dissipate into the world after their death, transforming back into chaotic literary energy.

Over time, the natural flow of culture and tradition has been polluted, turning into a giant water pump—

With the emperor's will and evil intentions at the top, the flower of literature becomes the pipe, and Confucian scholars become the pump, gradually draining away the literary spirit of the world and transforming it into an endless source of chaos.

Xue Xiang stared at Wen Gong, his heart turning cold.

He had already seen that if that path was not cut off, one day the whole world would be swallowed up by chaos.

When the laws of Heaven collapse, all races perish.

The world will inevitably descend into chaos.

(End of this chapter)