The sage was determined to die.

The group of men looked at each other, holding branches that could cut iron like mud.

Originally the only descendants of their respective countries, they were both betrayed by the people of Chu, making them brothers in misfortune with similar circumstances.

The group, who were originally allies by their identities, unanimously gripped the branches in their hands and quietly distanced themselves from each other.

Gongsun Yang also gripped the branch tightly, his expression somewhat stiff and embarrassed. He subtly changed the way he held the branch, making it a gripping position, but lowered his voice and said, "Friends, I'm sure you all heard the same words just now."

"I've heard that although the mountain of books is fraught with danger, both we students and the examiners must act according to the rules. Just now, the rules were what flashed through our minds. This old lady is the untrustworthy person in red within the rules. I hope everyone will not be fooled."

The students from the other small countries nodded in agreement, but none of them put down the branches they held. One of them, who had also practiced swordsmanship for many years, looked at Gongsun Yang's familiar sword-wielding posture and said in a weak voice, "I think Brother Gongsun is right. How about this, Brother Gongsun, you set an example first, for example, by putting down the branch?"

Gongsun Yang brushed this matter off perfunctorily.

From the moment Wenxin appeared, these people only had eyes for her. It wasn't that they intentionally ignored the old lady's words, "A tree branch is also a treasure," but rather that they knew this all too well.

Apart from the literary mind, the things in the mountain of books, not even a single blade of grass or tree, cannot be easily taken out.

It happened before that two scholars each obtained a precious sword in the mountain of books.

The scholar who possessed the literary heart, after leaving the mountain of books, had the sword become his personal magic weapon. However, the other scholar did not obtain the literary heart in the mountain of books. After going through great hardships to bring the sword out, he thought that even if he presented the sword to the king, he would at least receive ten thousand taels of gold. Even if he could not become a scholar, he could still live a wealthy and worry-free life.

But he was completely wrong.

The moment he left the mountain of books, everything was like a fleeting dream. When he woke up, no matter how hard he tried to grasp everything in the dream, all he got was a handful of dust.

Because there was no literary inspiration to nourish it, his sword became nothing but scrap metal.

Clearly, none of them were unfamiliar with similar situations.

The old lady noticed the tension between them. She lifted her eyelids, which were almost completely covered by wrinkles, and said impatiently, "Are you still going to take the exam or not? If you don't, there are plenty of other people who will."

"Examiner, is it absolutely necessary to use human blood to nourish this literary talent for it to bear fruit?" Gongsun Yang made a final stand, gripping the branch in his hand and taking a deep breath.

"What, are you questioning this examiner?"

The old woman stared at the group of people in front of her, then suddenly smiled: "There are countless literary hearts in the mountain of books, and the one I guard needs blood to awaken it."

She pulled out a twig, as if demonstrating something, and pierced her palm with the sharp twig. Thick, bright red blood dripped out through the tube, like watering a sapling.

The sapling absorbed nutrients drop by drop and visibly grew much taller.

She seemed completely oblivious to the pain, humming a little tune as she said, "You must be from a small country. Small countries are so ignorant. This Wenxin was originally born on the battlefield of the demon race. In that great war between the demon races, millions of demons perished, and the carnage reached the heavens before this Wenxin was born."

"After this literary heart was created, it was obtained by that demon general. From then on, he used this literary heart to fight on the battlefield and never lost a battle. After his death, this literary heart returned to the Book Mountain and has been sleeping ever since."

"Wanting to win Wenxin's heart without paying any price? There's no such thing as a free lunch."

As she finished speaking, the breathing of the scholars from the small country gradually warmed up.

The gaze fixed on the sapling grew increasingly intense.

Although they came from a small country, they were actually quite knowledgeable and knew a lot of things. The ways to obtain a literary heart in the mountain of books were varied and bizarre. Some people obtained one literary heart simply by taking a nap, while others had to endure the pain of being disemboweled. Some even died countless times in the illusion before they could obtain one literary heart.

And the price that this literary heart has to pay right now isn't much, is it?

In the blink of an eye, a scholar from a small state picked up a long, sword-like branch and thrust it fiercely towards Gongsun Yang's back. But Gongsun Yang wasn't stupid; he was prepared and swung his hand back to block the attack. After parrying, he reached out and thrust straight at Gongsun Yang's neck—

Just then, a male voice interrupted him.

"I don't think it needs to be that bad, does it?"

Ji Bai squatted beside the sapling, like a professional botanist. He first pinched the leaves with his hands and found that the leaves were indeed withered and yellow. At the same time, he frowned, wrung out his sleeves, squeezed out a lot of flower juice and dripped it onto the leaves. The sapling swayed slightly, and then it visibly grew taller again.

Everyone, including the old lady, looked at him.

The battle was interrupted before it even began. Gongsun Yang looked warily at the scholar from the small country, while they were also very curious about Ji Bai's behavior.

Ji Bai's next actions seemed even more perplexing to them.

He frowned and pondered for a moment, then, as if he had figured something out, he took out a dagger, placed it on the ground, and smashed it hard with a stone. The thin dagger was quickly turned into a lump of iron. Then, before the old lady could stop him, he swiftly stuffed the iron piece into the leaves of the sapling.

"What are you doing—" the old lady said, sounding extremely angry.

Then, in the next second, a scene that no one expected unfolded.

The sapling ate this small piece of iron.

Then, as if he had drunk blood, he stretched out his leaves and grew a little taller again.

old lady:"……"

Others who were preparing to kill each other: "..."

Ji Bai clapped his hands and said in a very professional tone, "Indeed, plants need a lot of iron to grow. It seems that watering with human blood and using iron slag have about the same effect."

He touched the sapling and said, "Young man, you have a good appetite."

The old woman seemed deeply shocked. For the first time, she showed a somewhat broken expression, muttering, "Why... So this is possible... Then I've wasted so many years..."

Ji Bai glanced at her speechlessly: "Ah, these are all just things I made up. I didn't expect you to actually believe them."

Ji Bai pointed to the four characters at the bottom of the sapling—"Iron Wall".

This is the name of this literary talent, but he also discovered that only the guards could see this character; the scholars who had passed the imperial examinations could not.

"Isn't this Wenxin called 'Iron Wall'? I just wanted to try feeding it some iron, and I didn't expect to guess right."

The old lady fell silent.

After a long silence, she finally spoke through gritted teeth: "I can't read."