Although the golden text was written in the language of the ancient era, the golden text contained a miraculous power, just like a translation machine. Even Song Shuhang, who didn't understand the language of the ancient era, could automatically understand the meaning of the text and instinctively translate it into simplified Chinese and memorize it.
According to Venerable White's explanation, this [Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage] was a method of the scholarly faction to cultivate one's moral character. It was similar to a meditation technique, and it could also be used to practice calligraphy?
Thereupon, Song Shuhang casually glanced at the golden text in the sky and memorized the first few sentences. After that, he didn't pay any more attention to it.
The golden text condensed by the statue lasted for around ten breaths of time.
During this time, Venerable White and Song Shuhang slowly descended.
After ten breaths of time, the golden text condensed by the statue disappeared … the statues of the thirteen Tribulation Transcenders disciples of the Sage returned to normal, and the phenomenon also disappeared.
The scholarly disciples sighed with reluctance.
But right at this time, Song Shuhang suddenly felt his vision darken.
… …
… …
After a short moment, when Song Shuhang's vision regained its brightness, he discovered that he was in a huge public square.
The public square was paved with black flagstones, looking very neat and tidy. And in the center of the public square stood a statue. It was the statue of the first disciple of the Sage that had condensed the golden text [Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage], Daoist Child.
Apart from Song Shuhang, there were nine scholarly disciples in the surroundings. Just like him, these scholarly disciples also had blank expressions on their faces as they looked around.
A scholarly disciple asked in puzzlement, "Where is this place? Wasn't I in the [White Cloud City] just a moment ago? "
Song Shuhang fell into deep thought. He was together with Venerable White just a moment ago … if that was the case, just how high was the cultivation of the person that forcefully brought him to this place? Was it possible that he was able to escape from Venerable White's clutches in an instant?
Or perhaps, it was not his body that had been pulled into this space, but his consciousness that had entered this strange space?
While thinking, Song Shuhang saw a familiar face amongst the nine scholarly disciples — the 'Saber Carrying Scholar', Su Wenqu.
Back when the Chu family's' Grievance Settling Platform 'ended and the hand-guided tractor competition was about to start, Song Shuhang met this scholarly disciple who was driving a sports car modified from a damaged immortal boat, the' Lonely Boat '. He was the' Saber Wielding Scholar 'Su Wenqu, the only son of the Eternal Fire Zhenjun of the White Cloud Academy.
It was worth mentioning that Su Wenqu's real daoist name should be [Jade Sword Scholar]. However, the nickname 'Saber Wielding Scholar' was too famous, so no one remembered his real daoist name.
Su Wenqu:?
However, Song Shuhang had seen Su Wenqu, but Su Wenqu didn't know Song Shuhang — because at that time, Song Shuhang had already entered Prince Phoenix Slayer's body and used Prince Phoenix Slayer's body to see him.
…
…
Even the only son of the Eternal Fire Zhenjun was pulled into this space, and from the looks of it, the 'Saber Wielding Scholar' Su Wenqu didn't know this place either, and he had a confused expression on his face.
What was going on with this space?
Why do I feel like I was pulled into a limitless space by the 'Creator', but I didn't press' yes' or 'no'! Song Shuhang ridiculed in his mind.
At this time, Su Wenqu regained his composure. He walked up to the statue and paid his respects. Apart from them, there was only this statue in this space. The key was definitely on this statue.
After he paid his respects to the ancestor, the statue of the Daoist Child faintly flashed.
Immediately after, a table and chairs appeared in front of everyone. On the table were the four treasures of the study, brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, as well as water and ink.
Immediately after, a solemn voice echoed in everyone's mind: [Write down from memory the complete version of the Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage. You have five minutes.]
Following this dignified voice, a tall wall rose next to each scholarly disciple and Song Shuhang, separating them.
Song Shuhang was speechless.
Was this to prevent cheating?
Had they become 'examinees'?
Ever since he graduated from elementary school, he had rarely 'written' a complete text from memory. How scary!
[Time begins.] The solemn voice echoed once more.
In the next moment, Song Shuhang heard the scholarly disciples start to grind the ink. After a short while, the sound of writing could be heard.
To the scholarly disciples, the Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage was as important as a meditation technique. It was the foundation of the foundation. They had to write it down many times every day.
The majority of the disciples were able to finish writing down the entire text of the Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage in less than a minute.
Song Shuhang was speechless.
He wasn't a scholarly disciple! When he was standing behind Venerable White's flying sword, he only took a cursory glance at the golden text and didn't even try to memorize it!
But now, he had to write it down from memory in less than five minutes? Wasn't this making things difficult for him?
Apart from this, there was one more thing — he didn't know how to grind ink.
When he was in elementary school and middle school, the school had offered a course to teach the students how to write with a brush.
But the problem was that the ink they used wasn't 'grinded' but bought from the bottle! He had never learned how to grind ink. At most, he had seen a few scenes of grinding ink in movies.
Once I get out of this strange space, I'll learn how to write with a brush! Song Shuhang thought to himself.
With a sigh, Song Shuhang picked up an ink stick and imitated those in the movies. He added some water to the inkstone and tried to grind the ink with the ink stick. Regardless of whether the posture was correct or not, he had to grind the ink out first.
While grinding, he was thinking hard about the Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage that he had glanced at earlier.
But even with the powerful memory of a cultivator, he could only remember the first few sentences of the Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage. After all, his eyes weren't a 'camera', and he couldn't remember everything he saw.
"Forget it, I'll just write as much as I can," Song Shuhang said to himself.
Afterward, he picked up the brush and dipped it in the ink. Luckily, he had learned how to write with a brush when he was a child, so he could still remember how to use it.
With another sigh, Song Shuhang picked up the brush and wrote down the first few sentences of the Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage.
After writing down the first few sentences, Song Shuhang could only stare at it helplessly. He couldn't remember the rest of the sentence!
What should I do?
Should I ask the fellow daoists next to me for help?
Thereupon, Song Shuhang called out, "Fellow daoists next door, do you know that 'A gentleman cultivates his moral integrity, but he must not be good at keeping his word'? What's the next sentence? Can you hear me? If you can hear me, just say something! "
After all, the rules only stated that he had to write down the Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage within five minutes. It didn't say that he couldn't ask the fellow daoists next to him for help.
Unfortunately, the 'examinees' were separated by a wall that not only blocked their line of sight, but it also blocked their voices.
Although the sound of grinding ink and writing could be heard, the sound of talking was filtered out. The scholarly disciples in the surroundings couldn't hear him, so they couldn't help him.
Just like that, five minutes quickly passed.
… …
… …
"Rumble ~"
The walls around the 'examinees' shrank back.
Among the ten examinees, nine scholarly disciples had confident expressions on their faces. The white papers in front of them were filled with words.
After grinding the ink, all the scholarly disciples finished writing down the Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage within one minute.
Song Shuhang looked at the person next to him. The person sitting next to him was none other than the only son of the Eternal Fire Zhenjun, the 'Saber Wielding Scholar', Su Wenqu.
Song Shuhang subconsciously looked at the piece of paper Su Wenqu was writing on.
In the next moment, Song Shuhang was dumbfounded!
Su Wenqu's paper was filled with words … and all of them were written in 'ancient characters'.
Song Shuhang then looked at his own paper. The words written on it were … simplified Chinese characters that had been translated.
What a scam!
They even had to use ancient characters to write?
This kind of examination was clearly prepared for the disciples of the Confucian School. Why the hell was an outsider like him involved in this kind of examination?
Could it be … because of the lustrous scholar?
… …
… …
As if he had sensed Song Shuhang's gaze, Su Wenqu turned his head and looked at Song Shuhang. Actually, he had noticed Song Shuhang from the very beginning. Among the ten examinees present, only Song Shuhang wasn't a scholarly disciple.
Afterward, he also looked at the content written on Song Shuhang's paper. It was simplified Chinese, and only the first few sentences were written.
Su Wenqu's face couldn't help but twitch.
"Fellow Daoist, I have a question. What will happen if I fail?" Song Shuhang asked worriedly. There wouldn't be any punishment, right?
"I'm very sorry, Fellow Daoist. This is also my first time entering this strange space, "Su Wenqu replied, a little embarrassed.
At this time, the solemn voice echoed once more. "Those who finish writing from memory may leave this space and receive the Third Stage Confucian treasure, the 'Heaven and Earth Worshipping Brush'. Those who fail must start writing again after twenty breaths. The time limit is five minutes. "
Song Shuhang:?
F * ck, is this a limitless make-up test space?
He didn't even know the correct way to write the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》. Even if he was given a hundred more chances, he wouldn't be able to write the complete version of the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》 using ancient characters.
How could he break it?
"Fellow Daoist, I'll take my leave first. I hope that you can finish writing from memory as soon as possible, "Su Wenqu said softly. The nearby Su Wenqu said in a soft voice. At the same time, he spread out the sheet of the (Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage) he had written and showed it to Song Shuhang.
He hoped that this unfamiliar fellow Daoist would be able to memorize the contents of the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》 within twenty breaths.
"Thank you." Song Shuhang stared at the copy of the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》 written by Su Wenqu and tried his best to memorize it.
However, it was written in ancient characters, and there was a world of difference between them and simplified Chinese characters. Moreover, Su Wenqu's copy of the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》 didn't have an automatic translation function.
Song Shuhang was having a hard time memorizing it.
Right now, he could only rely on his powerful memory as a cultivator to memorize every single ancient character.
Twenty breaths passed in the blink of an eye.
Rumble. Walls rose around Song Shuhang again.
The test began again.
And Song Shuhang had only memorized less than a third of the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》.
Another pill.
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