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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 and reflect his lonely figure. He looked up at the sky and noticed that even the heavens in the mirror world were gradually darkening. He thought to himself, "It’s 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, where he saw a figure posting an 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 Oil Pot, causing thousands to swarm around it, blocking all passage and creating a deafening uproar that threatened to overturn heaven and earth.
At first, the noise was chaotic, like waves crashing against the shore with a thunderous roar. But soon, within this tide, distinct layers emerged: some were weeping bitterly, resembling a Cuckoo crying blood, likely lamenting years of hard study only to see their hopes dashed; others were cursing loudly, denouncing the examiners' ancestors with such fervor that spittle flew everywhere, as if only through such outbursts could they vent their pent-up rage; some sighed deeply and shook their heads like an Old Monk in meditation, yet they couldn’t help but push forward through the crowd for one last glimpse of the announcement, hoping against hope that they had misread it; and there were those who stood frozen in place, eyes vacant and faces ashen, unresponsive to the calls of friends and family, resembling mere walking corpses…
The myriad human emotions—joys, sorrows, anger, and laughter—were all stirred by this single announcement, played out in vivid detail.
On the roadside sat a scholar in despair, eyes vacant and hands tightly clutching an Inkstone. This Inkstone was surely his treasured possession; now he unconsciously crushed it to pieces, ink staining his sleeves and darkening his face without him noticing. After over ten years of diligent study for the sake of glory and honor for his family, he found himself falling short of expectations—his despair was palpable.
Nearby stood a young examinee with disheveled hair, pushed along by the crowd as he stumbled forward. His clothes were disheveled and his face streaked with tears; he muttered to himself incoherently. His parents and teachers pulled him along while offering comforting words, fearing he might do something rash in his moment of distress.
Further away stood a richly dressed young man who took his beloved Jade Lute from its case. With trembling hands, he set it ablaze. The flames illuminated his tear-streaked face; this Jade Lute must have been a treasure representing his dreams, now reduced to ashes along with those dreams.
While some were engulfed in despair, others were ecstatic. A scholar shouted joyfully while pounding on a table: "I did it! I did it!" It was unclear whether he had passed or achieved some other honor; regardless, he was overjoyed and leaped about without regard for decorum, drawing curious glances from those around him.
Others hung their heads low in disappointment; years of hard work had seemingly gone to waste. Their hearts filled with grief and anger led one to cough up blood and nearly collapse. If not for someone nearby who quickly caught him, he would have fallen to the ground.
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 inquire further so they could “accidentally” reveal their success and bask in the glory like stars surrounding the moon.
In this moment, all aspects of human nature—the warmth of relationships and coldness of society—were vividly displayed. Wu Kong observed coldly but felt neither joy nor sorrow. Having witnessed too many life-and-death separations and experienced countless loves and hates himself, the worldly pursuits of fame and fortune seemed nothing more than fleeting illusions to him.
Inside a tavern nearby, someone had already begun boasting. A scholar was shaking his head while reciting something aloud; a circle of people gathered around him, listening intently. A curious young man asked nearby, “Why is this piece so short?” The scholar replied proudly, “This is an excerpt from a Top Scholar’s work! I’ve just selected a portion. If you want to learn more about it, I can explain it well to you—who knows? Maybe you’ll succeed next year!” With that said, they began an animated discussion about the text which read:
To achieve unparalleled greatness,
To uplift principles among humanity;
Exploring the depths of the sea of knowledge, forging the brilliance of governance.
Why is this so? Its realm is vast and elusive, chaos difficult to pursue; its principles are profound and interconnected. Thus, the essence of one's spirit remains unclouded, the quintessence enduring; even in the aftermath of ashes, it harbors the spiritual mechanisms of heaven and earth.
In summary, the exquisite brush of creation cannot be glimpsed through mediocrity; the subtle workings of spirits and deities, though confined to a small space, reveal extraordinary intricacies. Just like the splendor of jade and gems, unfolding the vastness of the universe, all things shine brightly within this realm.
When the article by Top Scholar was released, the tavern erupted in excitement.
“Oh my, as expected of Top Scholar! Such literary talent and demeanor!”
“Of course! An article by Top Scholar is beyond our judgment!”
“Exactly, we mere mortals can only look up in admiration.”
Among the crowd, some feigned profundity while nodding their heads, others smiled broadly and whispered among themselves, and some appeared utterly bewildered, glancing around in confusion.
Wu Kong found himself amidst these ordinary folks, observing their flattery with a sudden surge of inexplicable irritation.
“Five hundred years ago, when I, Old Sun, was trapped in the Eight Trigrams Furnace, I heard 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 everyone’s ears to ring.
The once bustling tavern fell silent in an instant; all eyes were fixed on Wu Kong as if he were a monster.
Wu Kong paid no mind to their stares and continued speaking to himself: “The Old Lord said that from Yao and Shun to Confucius's time, literary talent was ‘purely heavenly fortune,’ known as ‘great prosperity’; from Mengzi to Li Si’s time, it was ‘purely earthly fortune,’ known as ‘moderate prosperity’…”
At this point, Wu Kong paused for effect, scanning the crowd with a smirk of derision. “After five hundred years, it must be ‘water thunder fortune,’ where literature becomes short and empty, known as ‘minor decline’; another eight hundred years later leads to ‘mountain water fortune,’ at which point literature will be ruined—ruined!”
“Ruined? What do you mean by ruined?” someone couldn’t help but ask, a hint of fear in their tone.
Wu Kong sneered coldly. “By then, a group of people without ears or eyes, tongues or noses, hands or feet, hearts or lungs—without bones or muscles or blood or breath—will be called ‘Xiucai.’ For a century they will live off a piece of paper but leave no true talent or knowledge behind after death!”
As he spoke, Wu Kong slammed his hand on the table with force; the dishes jumped up and wine spilled everywhere.
“The articles they produce will be utterly chaotic: they won’t spare ancient sages who have been dead for thousands of years but insist on dragging them out for lectures; Yao and Shun were sages yet they will be pulled down from their pedestals; breathing is inherently a pure matter—rather than experiencing it directly, they will disturb their own minds; spirit is fundamental to existence—rather than refining it, they will squander it completely!”
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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