Chapter 2644: The Master Does Not Speak

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“You think you are a writer, but actually you are also a book that has been read.”

Circles of annual rings are years that cannot be seen to their end. History’s deep furrows are but wrinkles on the tree bark.

In ten thousand years of silence, before a colossal tree stump like a cast iron plateau, Mr. Zi, wearing an ancient Confucian robe, sat quietly, holding a white chess piece in his palm, his sleeves neatly folded.

That sentence echoed in his ears again.

He made no unnecessary movements.

Since Shi Bozhou’s death, this sentence has repeatedly echoed in his ears, becoming a habit.

Speaking of which, Zuoqiu Wu, the “writer,” ultimately became a book that was read within Diligent Academy. This is not necessarily not a kind of response across time.

That sentence, “although there is no Spring and Autumn Annals, one also embraces obscurity and the new moon,” seemed to be specifically for him—

Shi Bozhou showed him the “Spring and Autumn Annals” of a cicada, while Zuoqiu Wu let him see the “obscurity and new moon” of a morning mushroom.

This time, Mr. Zi had already resolved the issue of “demon intent invading luck,” and had also passively accepted the outcome concerning Diligent Academy, but he was still thinking about Wu Zhai Xue.

The plot of the bureau transcends, it is not a matter of accumulating merit day and night, but only putting in one-tenth of the effort to seek one-ten-thousandth of an opportunity. He had long been prepared to act without benefit, and was also certain that no one could do better than Zuoqiu Wu, but this “good” is for Diligent Academy.

For the entire influence of Confucianism, that is not necessarily the case.

The weight of the world’s prominent schools of learning bears its name and its responsibility; each family is striving. Except for the perpetually stable Daoist Gate, each family has its own difficulties.

Thinking about this and that, he couldn’t help but worry.

“You are surprisingly calm,” the voice said again.

Mr. Zi raised his head and said softly, “If tigers and rhinos escape from their cages, the guard cannot shirk his responsibility.”

The literary qi rolled in the high dome, suddenly gathering into a huge, ugly face. The Sinless Heavenly Being, who had not ascended Book Mountain for a long time, suddenly bent down, seeming to be face-to-face with the current leader of the Confucian sect, grinning maliciously: “You went to find Jing Er’s trouble, didn’t you?”

Since Tianhai’s battle holding the Ksitigarbha, the Sinless Heavenly Being has greatly benefited. Although he finally returned to the Sin Sea honestly, he was not as “honest” as before.

Originally, he only caused small ripples within the literary qi of the Confucian family, occasionally transmitting some nightmares. Now, he can manifest qi within the literary qi and jump to Mr. Zi’s front. This is still separated by the Red Dust Gate!

If the Red Dust Gate were opened, it’s hard to say whose surname this Confucian holy land would bear.

In terms of identity, he is a direct descendant of the Confucian ancestor; in terms of strength, he is a contemporary transcendent, directly pursuing the so-called “utmost saint.” Book Mountain is large, but no one is strong enough for him to pinch.

Book Mountain certainly has no qualification to seek out Jing Er. Mr. Zi sighed, “As soon as he loosened the lock, you howled with evil sounds. There is only one gap, and you follow this road… Mr. Dantai, I cannot understand the reason why he has tamed you.”

Jing Er’s face and heart are dark; he calculates ten steps with one step. He loosened the bonds for the Sinless Heavenly Being, and must have gained something from it.

However, Mr. Zi cannot figure out where this gain will be. Compared to the real pain of injured muscles and bones, this feeling of being like a headless fly makes him more vigilant.

“Mr… Zi Huai, you are now also called ‘Mr.’” Dantai Manjushri had an inexplicable emotion, causing the literary qi to surge.

Mr. Zi sat firmly: “The Confucian ancestor is asleep and hasn’t woken up. My Mr. has become a Sinless Heavenly Being, suppressed in the Sin Sea… If I don’t do this ‘Mr.,’ what else can I do?”

Today’s Mr. Zi of Book Mountain, that year’s heaven’s proud son of the Confucian sect, “Covering the World Zi Huai,” was precisely Dantai Manjushri’s disciple!

Dantai Manjushri’s appearance was ugly, and he was a Confucian scholar who had entered the order halfway. Although his talent was absolutely top-notch, his talent unparalleled in the world, he actually had a low status within the Confucian sect and was not well supported. Among the seventy-two disciples of the Confucian ancestor Kong Ke, he had the worst reputation.

Furthermore, his own character was isolated and his actions were strange, making it very difficult to get along with people normally. Most people left his circle, and everyone avoided him as if he were the plague.

That year, the direct descendants of the Confucian ancestor, known as the “Seventy-Two Sages,” could attract crowds whenever they sat in the hall to teach. Only he, Dantai Manjushri, received the Confucian ancestor’s order to hold a class, yet only one person came, a Zi Huai who had taken the wrong path.

“Sorry! I took the wrong—” A young man with clear eyebrows and eyes, rushed in like wind and fire, and then frantically wanted to escape.

But he was slapped and held still. That suddenly close ugly face made him remember forever: “If you say you took the wrong path now, then you should apologize.”

Although he took the wrong path… he was just like this held down and became Dantai Manjushri’s only disciple.

Ten thousand years later, it was precisely this disciple who took charge of Book Mountain and became the current leader of the Confucian sect.

“Zi Huai—” Dark colors seeped from Dantai Manjushri’s swollen eyes, making him appear gloomy and compassionate: “I always thought you would be the next Confucian saint. Seeing you sitting here now, repeatedly ignored by others, my heart… is filled with melancholy.”

“Originally, at the end of my life, I could not transcend. I have no hope of transcending forever. Now I can only rely on this remnant tree to continue living…” Zi Huai spread his hands, his wide sleeves like flags. This action also inevitably revealed his empty, dangling pant leg. He laughed loudly: “Mr. Dantai, why do you laugh at me?”

The hundred-thousand-year-old green pine is broken!

The most outstanding figure in the Confucian sect over a hundred thousand years is crippled!

Even with a peak body and the power level of ascending to sainthood, once the body is crippled, one needs to dig into heaven to mend it. With Book Mountain’s accumulation, it is not impossible to heal a severed limb. But where Zi Huai’s leg is broken, it is permeated with eternal remnant intent!

The ugly and evil face of the Sinless Heavenly Being, embedded in the literary qi, temporarily looked left and right, avoiding looking at him.

“The Seven Hates buried such a long time in the literary qi on Book Mountain… Observing all this, Dantai Manjushri’s tone was suspicious: “Was his entering the demonic path truly forced?”

Zi Huai did not speak.

Dantai Manjushri continued: “Looking at it now, it seems like he was prepared early. It seems he originally just wanted to overturn Book Mountain, overturn the Confucian family, and tear down everything in the present world. Entering the demonic path was not forced, but a necessary path, a choice made after deep and careful thought.”

If a third person were present at this moment, they would definitely feel inexplicable. The Sinless Heavenly Being, always known for his chaos, was actually seriously analyzing the demonic trouble for Book Mountain, and Mr. Zi was listening without interruption.

He propped his hands on his knees, sitting as he used to sit in the hall, listening to Mr.’s lectures—Dantai Manjushri’s lectures were inexplicable in many people’s eyes because he never cared about his students, only about his own interests, lecturing on whatever he thought of, completely unconnected, and often exceeding the student’s comprehension.

But “Zi Huai” was different. He seemed to naturally possess the ability to penetrate the truth, able to grasp the fragments of truth he needed within any complex flow of information.

The classroom of this pair of master and disciple was unlike any other. Dantai Manjushri always lectured in a messy pile, while Zi Huai listened casually, his mind wandering. When the time was up, Dantai Manjushri would leave. Zi Huai would then set his own topics, seriously write the answers, and then leave.

When Dantai Manjushri came for the next class, he would conveniently glance at them. Most of the time he would throw them away directly; a few times he would point at the stupid student’s nose and scold him.

At this moment on the summit of Book Mountain, it was unusually calm.

The green pine was not like it used to be, but the literary qi still had its old posture.

Dantai Manjushri’s ugly face was embedded within it, showing several points of leisure in its ugliness.

“Zuoqiu Wu acted rashly this time. Although he didn’t consider Book Mountain, he accidentally hit the mark, forcing out the foreshadowing of the Seven Hates in advance and washing away the hidden danger in the Confucian sect’s literary qi for you…” Dantai Manjushri analyzed, suddenly wrinkling his ugly face: “Are you listening or not?”

Zi Huai laughed: “Mr. Dantai, this may not be a question you would ask. When did you ever care about whether people were listening or not?”

“Hehehe.” Dantai Manjushri laughed strangely twice: “These years I have been separated by the Red Dust Gate, looking at this world unrealistically. The means within this literary qi are not the remnant demonic qi of a transcendent, but the handwriting from the Wu Zhai Xue period—”

That ugly face continued to tilt downwards: “What did you do to him that year? It actually made Wu Zhai Xue have such courage… such deep hatred?”

Originally, the “Bitter Sea Forever Sinking Desire Demon Merit” that the Seven Hates substituted was kept in the hands of the Sinless Heavenly Being for a long time, helping this orthodox Yiluo clan person maintain his self, and was later taken away and refined by Jiang Wang.

How could Zi Huai not believe that there was no connection between the Seven Hates and Dantai Manjushri?

But to say they were intimately seamless, wasn’t the battle holding the Ksitigarbha that shook Tianhai the best opportunity for Dantai Manjushri to escape?

But the Seven Hates were everywhere, yet stubbornly did not look towards the Sin Sea.

Now Dantai Manjushri is asking about the past of the Seven Hates again…

Zi Huai calmly looked at him: “Nothing more than a wrong bet, Mr.”

Dantai Manjushri said in a low voice: “You have no hope of transcending, yet you still harbor the thought of transcending, wanting to recommend a transcendent for the Confucian sect… In fact, this is not something you should care about. Since you are forever stopped in the present, transcendence is no longer something you can imagine.”

“Can eternity that exists in fantasy truly have immortal meaning?”

At this moment, the ugly eyes of the Sinless Heavenly Being seemed to hold real emotion: “From Wu Zhai Xue to Shi Bozhou, no one could follow your path, and even in the end, they all turned against you. Transcendence is hard to achieve, and heaven and earth see hatred. Zi Huai, don’t persist anymore.”

A prisoner of the Sin Sea advising people not to persist is simply the biggest joke in the world.

But the names Wu Zhai Xue and Shi Bozhou made this joke not funny.

Zi Huai asked without any change in expression: “Mr. has finally managed to release a trip’s worth of wind, why not have a few rounds with Jing Er, and just go back honestly?”

“You should know, I am a person who keeps his word.” Dantai Manjushri said in a strange manner: “If the Ksitigarbha is not dead, I will be eaten by him. This time, I absolutely must not get close. Although the mountains and rivers are magnificent, the old traces are already far for me. The purpose has been achieved, how could I stay any longer?”

Zi Huai smiled: “I still thought it was that ‘Great Idle Person’…”

“Hush!” Dantai Manjushri grinned and interrupted him, laughing heartily: “Less speak names that old man doesn’t like to hear.”

This long-lost dialogue thus abruptly stopped.

The literary qi in the sky suddenly rolled, and Dantai Manjushri’s ugly face was buried by the rolling literary qi.

Clouds rolled and dispersed, leaving no morning mark.

Perhaps the Red Dust Gate was locked tighter again.

Even though Dantai Manjushri had a crucial contribution to the literary qi of the Confucian family, to want to “release the wind” through the literary qi, he also needed to have a rather crucial elevation, and simultaneously, the guards needed to close one eye.

Now, the guards are unwilling to close their eyes.

No one is wrong in the slightest!

Perhaps Jing Er also doesn’t want to trouble that person who is most afraid of trouble…

Zi Huai held the chess piece in his hand and did not speak for the time being.

That name Dantai Manjushri didn’t like to hear…

The last transcendent person to ascend the stage in the near ancient era, the tail end of the great era!

Indulged in the era of various saints, built a hut alone in the era of myth, was an idle cloud and wild crane in the immortal era, poured his emotions into the mountains and rivers in the one true era… Active in the chaotic period after the collapse of the one true era and before the new start of the Daoist calendar, he titled himself the “Spring and Autumn Great Idle Person.”

He is also an immortal person whose name is carved on the Red Dust Gate.

His name… is Shen Zhi Xian.

Zi Huai lowered his head and took out that hand, thin as if cut by a knife, from his large sleeve. The white chess piece in his hand suddenly exploded open, seemingly waking him up.

What a… daydream.

Originally, he had pursued isolation for tens of thousands of years, but it was just a dream like a yellow beam of light.

He put the shattered chess piece back together.

At this moment, the voice of a child welcoming a guest just came from below the mountain—

“Zhong Xuan, a member of the Tai Xu Pavilion, has come to pay a visit to the mountain and ask Mr. Zi for guidance!”

Zi Huai lowered his eyes and only said one sentence: “Please invite him in.”

“Did you hear? Mr. Zi personally modified the rites!”

In the tea shed, there was always a lot of chatter, and the steam was lifting the pot lid.

Jiang Anan—now renamed “Ye Xiaoyun”—sat alone at an elegant seat surrounded by a screen, a pot of tea, slowly swallowing the wind and frost of the journey.

Saying “wind and frost” is not accurate. She was held in Jiang Wang’s palm since she was little. When she arrived at Lingxiao Pavilion, she was also treated like a princess of a cloud country. The unease of her father’s illness and death and her mother’s leaving was the wind and snow of her life. But the panic of fleeing her homeland was finally gently healed by time.

In her memory, her father loved her very much, her mother loved her very much, it was only because of the necessity between life and death that they could not accompany her. And her elder brother loved her very much, Sister Qing Yu loved her very much, Uncle Xiao Hua loved her very much, everyone at Lingxiao Pavilion loved her. The White Jade Capital restaurant is her home. In Qi, in Chu, in Mu, she has very close people.

Growing up in such abundant love, she has not experienced any wind or frost.

But it was her first time traveling ten thousand miles alone, personally looking at the human world—the wind and frost of the human world inevitably lifted her eyes.

Every time she arrived at a place, she would write letters home, one for her elder brother, one for Sister Qing Yu, sharing what she saw and heard. Only through the local post station, and not via any secret technique or the Tai Xu Illusion Realm.

Sunlight filtered through the window lattice and fell on her young and sallow face, but the pen was very light.

Her disguise method was the true transmission of Senior Sister Zhao Wuyan. Her original words were, “unless it is a Cave True, no one can spy on you.” If a contemporary True Person were to see this disguise method, they might also be able to understand the origin of “Ye Xiaoyun,” and wouldn’t be completely blind.

Thinking of her elder brother who traveled the world in one cloak that year…

She had already put away all the precious magic tools that Sister Yunyun and Brother Guangshu sent her, keeping them at home. But merely those messy secret methods she usually learned were already a world-class foundation.

The tea guests next door were still excited: “Who is this Mr. Zi? I always hear this name these days… He’s really putting on airs! People hear the name of the Dao Heaven Palace Master, they don’t use ‘Mr. Jiang’ as a代称 ah!”

“Hush—” Someone immediately stopped him: “Do you want to die? Mr. Zi is the leader of the contemporary Confucian sect, the head of Book Mountain!”

“This Mr. was previously low-key and mysterious, now he’s frequently making moves and spreading his name throughout the world… Is the Confucian family having some big action?”

Someone else said: “The status of the Confucian sect leader is indeed very high, and he also has the right to modify the rites. But perhaps he can only manage places like Song Country. The world is so big, each country has its own rites. Book Mountain over there is probably just a decoration.”

“Modify what?” a voice asked.

The person who spoke first said: “Mr. Zi personally modified the rites, saying—Human common emotions, heavenly relations are hard to change. Relatives concealing for relatives is not suitable for heavy crime.”

“It’s famous that Confucian family disciples cover for each other!” one person laughed: “Why偏偏 modify this one?”

“This matter is not public, according to private rumors—Former Dean Zuoqiu Wu’s partial protection of the disciples within the academy was one of the reasons for Diligent Academy’s invasion by demonic intent. Mr. Zi’s partial protection of a certain famous Confucian in the Confucian family led to the danger of the Confucian family’s literary qi being polluted.” The person who spoke earliest explained: “So ‘relatives concealing for relatives’ should also have certain limits, it is called ‘great justice extinguishing relatives’!”

The development of the Tai Xu Illusion Realm has made the high-level affairs of the cultivation world become common market talk.

Of course, being able to talk so clearly about the Confucian family’s modification of the rites, it is necessary to be a cultivator of no ordinary origin. These people in the tea shed are not simple. Li Country is gradually prospering, and many people are coming to find opportunities.

Jiang Anan listened for a while, then felt bored, slowly finished writing and sealing the letter, and then listened for a while to the dispute in the main hall about the chief of the Yellow River Meeting—The Yellow River Meeting, which had just started three years ago, is now just starting for people to contend for fame!

All are some names that have been heard so many times they are old calluses, Er Zhu He, Fan Zheng, Lu Ye, Zhuge Zhuo, etc.

Perhaps because it is in Li Country, Er Zhu He is the most hyped contender for the chief. He is indeed an invincible existence of his age in the snow plain.

Cold not ding she still heard someone say “Jiang Anan,” saying something like “like brother, like sister,” and so on. But because Jiang Xiaoxia shows her face too little, not many people really take it seriously.

Jiang Anan folded and sealed the letter, wrote the mailing address, called the tea master, gave him some silver, and asked him to send the letter to the nearby post station. Then she quickly drank this quite expensive pot of tea and put the uneaten tea snacks into a storage box—The latest models of Mohist storage boxes, even before they were listed for sale, had already been sent to her. But the one she often carries and uses is still the squirrel box her elder brother gave her that year.

She wiped her mouth, wrapped her fur coat around her body, and then walked outside.

She is now walking in the style of a chivalrous hero, it’s a pity she’s drinking tea instead of wine, otherwise she would shout “hurry up.”

In the wind and snow that lifted the curtain and entered, she happened to brush past a person—that was a woman wearing a bamboo hat and a thin veil covering her face. Although her long robe covered her body, it was hard to hide her graceful figure.

The frosty wind lifted the curtain and also lifted the veil.

When a dark fragrance drifted, there was a glimpse of a startled swan’s reflection.

Jiang Anan walked forward without changing her expression, but her heart suddenly stirred.

She remembered this face, although she hadn’t seen it for many years, although she had only seen one side profile. But it was very profound in her childhood memory—it appeared at too tense a moment, and was too beautiful and too gorgeous. A black veil flipped over a red skirt, and beautiful eyes unsettled people’s hearts. Especially that farewell with eyebrows like hooks, for a long time it set the definition of “beautiful” for the little girl.

Elder brother said she was…

“A lost woman.”