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墨書 Inktalez
Wu Kong lost interest and jumped down from the jade stone, retreating with a heavy heart, leaving behind the Beast Link Square Mirror, which continued to shimmer, reflecting his lonely figure. He looked up at the sky and noticed that the heavens in the mirror world were gradually darkening as well. He thought to himself, "It is getting late; I might as well take a closer look at this treasure mirror in the building before making any plans."
He immediately began with the Heaven’s Number One mirror and saw a person inside posting the Imperial Edict, which read:
First place: Xiucai Liu Chun,
Second place: Xiucai Nonexistent,
Third place: Xiucai Gao Weiming.
As soon as the Imperial Edict was announced, it was as if a stone had been thrown into a boiling pot of oil, causing a frenzy among thousands of people who rushed in, surrounding the notice so tightly that not even a drop of water could pass through. The noise was deafening, as if the very earth would be overturned.
At first, the clamor was a chaotic mix, like waves crashing against the shore with a thunderous roar. But soon, within this tide, distinct layers emerged: some were weeping uncontrollably, resembling cuckoos crying blood; it seemed they had studied hard for years only to see their hopes dashed in an instant. Others were cursing loudly, damning the examiners' ancestors for generations, spitting out words in a frenzy as if nothing less would suffice to vent their anger. Some sighed deeply and shook their heads like old monks in meditation but could not help but push forward through the crowd for one last look at the notice, hoping they had merely misread it; still others stood frozen in place, eyes vacant and faces ashen, unresponsive to the calls of friends and family, resembling walking corpses...
The myriad emotions of humanity—joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness—were all stirred by this single piece of paper, vividly portrayed before them.
On the roadside sat a scholar in despair, his eyes vacant and clutching an inkstone tightly in his hand. This inkstone must have been his treasured possession; now he unconsciously crushed it to pieces, ink staining his sleeves and darkening his face without him realizing it. After over ten years of diligent study for the sake of fame and honor for his family, he found himself falling short of expectations; one could only imagine his despair.
Further along was a young candidate with disheveled hair being pushed along by the crowd, stumbling forward. His clothes were disheveled, tears streaked down his face as he muttered something incomprehensible. His parents and teachers pulled him along with concern in their eyes, comforting him while trying to lead him away, fearing he might act rashly in his moment of despair.
In the distance stood a richly dressed young man who pulled out his beloved Jade Lute from its case and set it ablaze with trembling hands. The flames illuminated his tear-streaked face; this Jade Lute must have been a cherished treasure representing his dreams, now reduced to ashes alongside those dreams.
While some were engulfed in despair, others reveled in joy. A scholar shouted in delight while slapping the table: "I did it! I did it!" It was unclear whether he had passed or achieved some other honor; regardless, he was overjoyed beyond measure. He embraced his companion tightly and jumped around without care for decorum, drawing curious glances from those around him.
Then there were those who appeared dejected; years of hard work seemed wasted as they were overcome with mixed feelings of sorrow and anger that led them to spit blood and sway unsteadily on their feet. Had it not been for someone nearby who quickly caught them, they might have collapsed right there.
Of course, there were also those who feigned calmness and forbade their servants from announcing good news; yet their lips betrayed them with involuntary smiles that revealed their true emotions. They longed for others to ask about their success so they could “accidentally” share details and bask in the glory like stars surrounding the moon.
In this moment, all facets of human nature—the warmth and coldness of relationships—were laid bare. Wu Kong observed coldly but felt neither joy nor sorrow. He had witnessed too many partings between life and death and experienced too much love and hatred; to him, worldly fame and fortune were nothing more than fleeting illusions.
Inside an inn, someone had already begun boasting. A scholar was shaking his head while reciting something aloud to an enthralled circle of listeners nearby. A curious young man asked, "Why is this article so short?" The scholar replied proudly, "This is a piece by the Top Scholar; I’ve only selected an excerpt. If you want to learn more about it, I can explain it well to you—who knows? You might pass next year!" With that said, they began discussing passionately about the text which read:
"To achieve unparalleled greatness,
To uphold righteousness among men..."
Exploring the depths of the sea, forging the brilliance of governance.
Why is that? Its realm is vast and elusive, chaos difficult to pursue; its principles are profound, breathing intertwined.
Thus, the essence of nature remains unclouded, its quintessence enduring. Even in the aftermath of ashes, it harbors the spirit of heaven and earth.
In summary, the marvelous brush of creation cannot be glimpsed through mediocrity;
The subtle workings of spirits and deities, though confined to a small space, reveal extraordinary intricacies.
Like the splendor of jade and crystal, it unfolds the vastness of the universe, where all things shine brightly, contained within.
When the article by the Top Scholar was released, the tavern erupted in chatter.
“Oh my, as expected of the Top Scholar! Such literary talent and demeanor, truly…”
“Of course! The works of the Top Scholar are beyond our humble judgment.”
“Exactly! We mere mortals can only look up in admiration.”
Among the crowd, some feigned profundity while nodding sagely, others wore smiles as they whispered among themselves, and some looked around in confusion.
Wu Kong found himself among these common folk, observing their flattery with a sudden surge of inexplicable irritation.
“Five hundred years ago, I, Lao Sun, was trapped in the Eight Trigrams Furnace and overheard the Grand Supreme Elderly Lord discussing the essence of literary talent with Immortal Yu Shi.” Wu Kong suddenly spoke up, his voice booming and causing a buzz in everyone’s ears.
The once-boisterous tavern fell silent in an instant; all eyes were fixed on Wu Kong as if he were a monster.
Ignoring their stares, Wu Kong continued: “The Old Lord said that from Yao and Shun to Confucius’s time, literary talent was ‘pure heavenly fortune,’ known as ‘great prosperity’; from Mengzi to Li Si’s time, it was ‘pure earthly fortune,’ known as ‘moderate prosperity’…”
Wu Kong paused here, scanning the crowd with a smirk of derision on his lips. “After that five hundred years should be ‘water and thunder fortune,’ where literature becomes short and hollow, known as ‘minor decline’; another eight hundred years later will bring about ‘mountain and water fortune,’ at which point literature will be ruined—ruined!”
“Ruined? How so?” someone couldn’t help but ask, a hint of fear in their tone.
Wu Kong let out a cold laugh. “By then, a bunch of people without ears or eyes, tongues or noses, hands or feet—without hearts or lungs—without bones or muscles—without blood or breath will be called ‘Xiucai.’ For a century they will live off mere paper, yet after death not a shred of true talent or learning will remain!”
At this point, Wu Kong slammed his hand on the table, causing the dishes to jump and wine to spill everywhere.
“The articles they produce will be utterly chaotic: they won’t spare even those ancient figures who died thousands of years ago but will insist on dragging them out for lectures; Yao and Shun were sages yet they’ll be pulled down from their pedestals; breathing is inherently pure yet they won’t seek to experience it but instead disturb their own minds; spirit is fundamental to existence yet they won’t refine it but will squander it away!”
Wu Kong became increasingly agitated, his voice rising as if he intended to overturn the tavern itself.
"What do you call such writing?" Wu Kong suddenly stood up, pointing at the Top Scholar's article, and shouted, "This is what you call 'Sham Hat Writing'! As long as one can scribble a few lines, they can rise to prominence, with some lifting them up, others flattering them, and still others fearing them!"
After finishing his words, he laughed uproariously, his laughter filled with anger and disdain.
The crowd was taken aback by Wu Kong's outburst, exchanging glances and not daring to make a sound.
"Enough of this! Let’s go check out 'Heavenly Number Two'!" Wu Kong declared as he turned and walked away, leaving the stunned crowd behind.
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