Even with his powerful memory, he was only able to memorize less than one-third of the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》.
Five minutes later, he would fail again. He wondered if Su Wenqu, the 'Saber Carrying Scholar', who was sitting next to him, still had his answer scroll.
If Su Wenqu's test paper was gone, what would he do?
Would he be stuck in this space forever?
Scary!
At this time, the dignified voice sounded again: [Write down the entire 《Self-Cultivating Martial Art of the Sage》. Time limit: five minutes.]
At the same time, a piece of white paper appeared on Song Shuhang's table. The old test paper was folded and moved to the corner of the table, so that it wouldn't hinder him from writing again.
… If he couldn't write down the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》, he would be locked in a small black room for an eternity.
Song Shuhang had no choice but to pick up the brush and write down the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》. This time, as if he was drawing, he wrote down one-third of the ancient text of the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》 in his mind.
By the time he finished, more than three minutes had passed.
Song Shuhang was even more distressed. The ancient text was very complicated to draw. At this speed, even if he memorized the entire text, it would still take him around nine minutes to finish.
This was simply hell mode.
Could he ask for help at this time?
Song Shuhang subconsciously put his hand into his robe, wanting to take out his cellphone or the thousand-mile sound transmission treasure. But when he put his hand into his robe, he found that his size-reducing purse was missing.
Without the size-reducing purse … Did that mean that it wasn't my physical body that entered this strange space, but my consciousness? Song Shuhang thought to himself.
…
…
Soon, the five minutes were up.
The wall next to him fell down again.
When the wall disappeared, Song Shuhang couldn't wait to look to the side. Great, the table, chairs, and the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》 written by Su Wenqu were still there.
Song Shuhang immediately stared at Su Wenqu's test paper and tried his best to memorize it.
At the same time, the dignified voice sounded in his ears again: [Those who finish writing down the text from memory can leave this space and receive the third-grade Confucian treasure 'Heaven and Earth Worshipping Brush'. Those who fail must start writing again after twenty breaths. Time limit: five minutes.]
Twenty breaths later …
Rumbling sounds could be heard as the wall rose up once more!
Another piece of white paper appeared on Song Shuhang's desk. The old paper was folded and moved again.
Song Shuhang tried to reach out and grab the folded test paper, but the original test paper was blocked by a layer of power, and Song Shuhang couldn't touch it.
"Damn it, if only the original test paper wasn't folded." Song Shuhang sighed. That way, he could at least copy the content on the test paper, which was faster than writing from memory.
Time ticked by.
Five minutes later, the wall came crashing down again.
Song Shuhang hurriedly shifted his gaze to Su Wenqu's draft paper and tried his best to memorize the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》. This time, Song Shuhang finally managed to memorize the entire text!
Even though he was unable to understand the meaning of these ancient characters, he forcefully memorized the entire 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Saint》, just like memorizing a picture.
Moreover, with the experience from the last time, his speed of drawing the ancient words had become faster and faster.
This time, he definitely had to pass the test!
Song Shuhang thought to himself.
…
…
Twenty breaths later …
The wall came crashing down again.
This time, Song Shuhang grabbed the brush and dipped it in ink. When the white paper came out, Song Shuhang quickly started to draw on it.
Just like that, he wrote down the entire 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Saint》, or rather, he drew it.
Four minutes and forty-two seconds.
Song Shuhang finally finished drawing the last ancient Runes.
"It's done! I passed this damned infinite make-up test mode! "Song Shuhang put down the writing brush and laughed heartily.
Now, he just had to wait for the test to end and leave this space.
He could also obtain a Third Grade Confucian treasure, the Heaven and Earth Worshipping Brush. Congratulations, congratulations!
Five minutes later, the wall came crashing down again.
The authoritative voice sounded in his ears again, "Those who finish writing down from memory can leave this space and obtain a Third Grade Confucian treasure, the 'Heaven and Earth Worshipping Brush'. Those who don't finish writing down from memory will have to start writing again after twenty breaths. The time limit is five minutes. "
"I want to leave this space!" Song Shuhang quickly replied.
However, something awkward happened — he wasn't sent out of this space.
"I've finished writing down from memory, quickly send me out," Song Shuhang said again.
However, the authoritative voice didn't reply.
The whole space was quiet, and only Song Shuhang's breathing could be heard.
Song Shuhang: "…"
What the hell is going on? Did I not finish writing down from memory? He quickly looked at Su Wenqu's test paper.
He didn't miss anything!
He had drawn every ancient character on the paper according to Su Wenqu's test paper.
Could it be … that he had to recite the meaning of the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》 while writing down from memory? However, Su Wenqu's test paper didn't have a translation function, so Song Shuhang couldn't understand it at all!
What should I do?
Don't tell me I have to take another test until I die?
Twenty breaths later …
The merciless wall rose again, isolating Song Shuhang from the surroundings.
A new test paper appeared in front of Song Shuhang. The old test paper was folded and moved to the corner of the table.
"I don't want to take the test anymore, let me out!" Song Shuhang stood up, grabbed the table, and tried to flip it — he wanted to see how this space would react if he flipped the table.
However, when Song Shuhang tried to flip it … he found that the table was too heavy, and he couldn't move it at all.
This was awkward.
What should I do now?
At this time, he couldn't contact the outside world. Even though he had finished writing down the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》, he still couldn't leave this space.
Was he really going to be trapped in this space forever?
"Or, did I write something wrong?" Song Shuhang pinched his chin and thought.
Wait, wait for five minutes, he carefully looked at Su Wenqu's test paper again, and carefully compared it with the diagram of the 《Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage》 in his mind to see if he had remembered something wrong.
…
…
While Song Shuhang was thinking about what he might have remembered wrong, a black flying sword broke through the void above his table and arrived above him.
However, this time, the black flying sword didn't release any black energy to engulf the whole space.
The black flying sword just quietly floated in front of Song Shuhang.
"Senior White!" Song Shuhang called out in pleasant surprise. This was another 'Senior White'. His charm was just as limitless, and he often appeared in his dreams.
Although he didn't know the origin of this [Senior White], he was sure that he was a very powerful existence. To make it easier to distinguish him, he could be called [Senior White Two].
In addition, when this Senior White came out, Song Shuhang was sure that it wasn't his physical body that entered this infinite space, but his consciousness.
The black flying sword spun around and turned into the black-clothed Senior White.
The black clothes he was wearing today were made of pajamas, and they covered his whole body, revealing only his handsome face. Was [Senior White Two] sleeping?
The black-clothed Senior White opened his eyes and looked at Song Shuhang, "…"
"Hi, Senior White, we meet again." Song Shuhang waved his hand.
Senior White Two raised her eyebrows, "What kind of strange dream did you get sucked into again?"
"This time, it wasn't a dream. Rather, I got sucked into this strange space." Song Shuhang replied, "In this space, I was asked to write down the ancient version of the [Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage] from memory within five minutes. If I couldn't write it down, they wouldn't let me out. I've already written it down from memory several times. "
Senior White Two laughed, "What an interesting space."
"It's not interesting at all, Senior White Two. In this space, I can't even flip a table. What's even more frightening is that I've already finished writing down the entire version of the [Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage], but this space still won't let me out. I'm starting to wonder if there's a bug in it! "Song Shuhang said while clenching his teeth.
Senior White Two looked into the distance. His gaze seemed to be able to penetrate the walls and directly see the statue of Daozi, one of the thirteen Tribulation Transcenders of the Sage.
After seeing the statue of Daozi, Senior White Two faintly sighed.
But right at this time, Song Shuhang pleaded, "Senior White Two, can you give me a hand? Can you help me see if there's anything wrong with the [Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage] I wrote?"
Senior White Two laughed, and said, "Why should I help you?"
"…" Song Shuhang.
This Senior White Two was definitely still holding a grudge against him. After all, he didn't divulge any information about the 'Venerable White' to him last time. As such, Senior White Two was still holding a grudge against him!
At this time, it was time to bring out his trump card.
The corner of Song Shuhang's mouth rose. There were many ways to get out of this space. In addition to completing the task of writing down the correct version of the [Self-Cultivating Prose Poetry of the Sage] within five minutes, he could also be thrown out by some other powerful force.
As for the method to annoy this' Senior White Two ', it couldn't be any simpler!
Whether it was the real Senior White Two or the Senior White Two in the dream, as long as he brought out that famous sentence, it would be enough.
Thereupon, Song Shuhang impatiently called out, "Little White, when your long hair …"
"Shut up," Senior White Two said softly.
In the next moment, Song Shuhang discovered that he couldn't open his mouth — he had been muted.
It was to be expected, so it didn't matter. He had already thought about the possibility of being muted.
He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, and began to write — 'Little White, when your long hair reaches your waist …'
After writing this much, Song Shuhang cautiously raised his head and looked at Senior White Two. If he were to continue writing and reach the words' marry me ', he would be courting death.
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