To seek a share of literary fortune from the Grand Sui Dynasty’s capital city Temple of Literature was fundamental to Chen Ping’an’s path of cultivation. Yet, Mao Xiaodong wasn’t in a rush to bring Chen Ping’an directly there. Instead, he leisurely strolled with Chen Ping’an, engaging in casual conversation.

Mao Xiaodong inquired about Chen Ping’an’s experiences and interesting encounters during his travels. Chen Ping’an had traveled far and wide twice, spending most of his time in deep mountains, dense forests, and along riversides, traversing mountains and waters. He hadn’t encountered many Temples of Literature or Martial Valor. Chen Ping’an then mentioned his good friend, the seemingly rough but actually quite talented heroic figure with the great beard, Xu Yuanxia.

This man, who had left the military years ago, not only recorded the landscapes of various places but also meticulously painted the ancient wooden buildings of different countries. Mao Xiaodong suggested that this heroic Xu could come to the academy as a guest instructor, giving lectures to the students about the magnificent mountains and rivers and the cultural essence of different places. The academy could even provide him with a room specifically to display his exquisite manuscript paintings.

Chen Ping’an agreed to Mao Xiaodong’s suggestion and said he would send a letter to Xu Yuanxia, who had already returned to his homeland, inviting him to travel to the Cliff Academy in the Grand Sui Dynasty.

The largest and most ritually significant Temple of Literature in the Grand Sui capital was located in the northwest. Therefore, the two had to pass through half of the capital city from Donghua Mountain. During this time, Mao Xiaodong treated Chen Ping’an to lunch at a small, inconspicuous restaurant hidden deep in an alley. Despite its location, the business was thriving. “Good wine needs no bush.” The restaurant’s homemade rice wine was quite special.

Mao Xiaodong said that every time the owner brewed wine, in addition to selecting the finest glutinous rice, he would take his son out of the city to fetch water from the Pine Wind Spring, located sixty miles away from the capital. The father and son would take turns carrying the water on their shoulders, leaving early in the morning and returning late at night, to create this rice wine that drinkers in the capital were reluctant to put down.

When Chen Ping’an left the restaurant, he bought a large jar of rice wine. When he reached an empty alley, he carefully poured it into his nearly empty sword-nourishing gourd, then stored the empty jar in his “miniature world.”

Inside the miniature world, “everything imaginable” could be found.

Clothes and books, stationery and scholarly items, pots and pans, knives and needles, herbs and flints, and all sorts of miscellaneous items.

Seeing Chen Ping’an storing away the empty wine jar, which wasn’t worth much money, Mao Xiaodong reminded him, “Accumulating small things into large ones, building a tower from grains of sand, is a good thing. However, don’t get caught up in trivial details and nitpick everything. Otherwise, it will be difficult to purify your mind, or you will exhaust yourself physically and mentally. Although your physique is strong, your spirit will be weary.”

Chen Ping’an smiled and said, “I understand.”

Mao Xiaodong stroked his beard and smiled.

In truth, it was he, Mao, who was being a bit nitpicky. But if he didn’t put on a little pretense as the senior brother, how could he show the dignity of being a senior brother? Since his master didn’t concern himself with him or nag him at all, he, Mao Xiaodong, had to make up for it on his master’s closed-door disciple, didn’t he?

After walking for nearly another half an hour, they arrived at the Temple of Literature in the capital city, the sacred place in the hearts of all scholars of the Grand Sui Dynasty.

Temples of Literature were scattered throughout the vast world, like lamps of literary fortune illuminating the human realm.

Unless it was a particularly remote place, even the smallest counties were required to build Temples of Literature and Martial Valor. All prefects and magistrates, upon taking office, were required to go to the Temple of Literature to offer incense and pay respects to the sages, and then go to the Temple of Martial Valor to pay tribute to the heroic spirits.

Therefore, even the small town where Chen Ping’an grew up in the Lvzhu Grotto-Heaven, which was secluded and isolated, the first major event after it was shattered, fell, and took root in the Great Li Dynasty’s territory was the Great Li court ordering the first county magistrate, Wu Yuan, to immediately start preparing for the selection of sites for the two temples.

Mao Xiaodong stood outside the Temple of Literature, with Chen Ping’an standing beside him.

Mao Xiaodong asked, “Earlier, we drank rice wine, and now we see the Temple of Literature. What are your thoughts?”

Chen Ping’an replied, “The fact that the best glutinous rice is used to brew wine and that so many people are buying it shows that the people of the capital are not only well-fed but also have quite a bit of spare money. As for this Temple of Literature, I haven’t seen anything yet.”

Chen Ping’an was half right. Mao Xiaodong nodded, but this time it wasn’t Mao Xiaodong deliberately being mysterious. He pointed out to Chen Ping’an:

“There’s no movement over there, which means that the fellows living in the mud inside the Grand Sui Temple of Literature don’t think highly of your literary fortune, Chen Ping’an.”

Speaking of this, Mao Xiaodong was somewhat sarcastic, “Perhaps they’ve been smoked by incense for hundreds of years and their eyesight isn’t so good.”

Mao Xiaodong continued, “Traveling scholars who visit the Temple of Literature with sincere hearts, if they possess abundant literary fortune, the gods of the Temple of Literature will sense it and quietly bestow a little literary fortune to enhance their literary talent. The so-called ‘a stroke of genius’ or ‘effortless writing’—when the pen moves as if guided by spirits—is the result of this. However, what the sages of the Temple of Literature can do is merely icing on the cake. Ultimately, it depends on how deep the scholar’s own efforts are.”

“Those who are willing to do these small favors are mostly incense gods, former civil officials who have become gods. The capital Temples of Literature of various countries, which enshrine the Supreme Sage and the seventy-two virtuous disciples, are just clay statues. Of course, there are always exceptions. The capital Temples of Literature of the nine great dynasties of the vast world often have a great sage sitting in them.”

Hearing this, Chen Ping’an softly asked, “Now, in the south of the Treasure Bottle Continent, everyone is saying that the Great Li is already the tenth great dynasty.”

Mao Xiaodong smiled and said, “Let’s talk about that after all the new Five Sacred Mountains of the Great Li have appeared. Right now, there’s only the Northern Sacred Mountain, the Mountain of Flowing Clouds, which can be considered legitimate. It’s still too early.”

Mao Xiaodong walked forward, “Let’s go. Let’s meet the saints of the Temple of Literature, where the integrity and spirit of the Grand Sui Dynasty resides.”

Chen Ping’an followed behind.

The Temple of Literature covered a vast area. Many literati, scholars, and devout believers came here, but it didn’t feel crowded.

However, when Chen Ping’an followed Mao Xiaodong to the main hall of the Temple of Literature, he found that it was empty.

It seemed that the temple caretaker had been instructed not to allow tourists or worshippers to approach this main hall, where sacrifices were offered to the world in the front hall and the sages of the country were enshrined in the back hall.

The courtyard was quiet, with ancient trees reaching into the sky.

An elderly Confucian scholar with wide sleeves and a tall crown, wearing a long sword at his waist, manifested as a golden body. He walked out of a clay statue in the back hall, stepped over the threshold, and walked into the courtyard.

Mao Xiaodong and this famous, unyielding civil official from the history books of the Grand Sui Dynasty bowed to each other in greeting.

Before entering this courtyard, Mao Xiaodong had already told Chen Ping’an about the life, literary lineage, and great achievements of several Temple of Literature gods of the capital city who were still “alive,” all of whom had contributed greatly to their respective dynasties.

The name of the Temple of Literature god before them was Yuan Gaofeng.
He was one of the founding heroes of the Great Sui Dynasty, and even more so, a Confucian general famed for his military exploits. Abandoning the pen for the sword, he followed Emperor Gao of Geyang in establishing the empire on horseback. After dismounting, he served as Minister of Personnel, granted the title of Grand Scholar of the Wuying Hall, dedicating himself wholeheartedly with outstanding achievements. Posthumously, he received the noble epithet of “Wenzheng” (Cultured and Upright). The Yuan clan remains a leading aristocratic family in the Great Sui, producing a continuous stream of talented individuals. The current head of the Yuan family once held the official position of Minister of Justice, resigning due to illness. Among his descendants are many outstanding figures who have achieved prominence in officialdom, on the battlefield, and in scholarly pursuits.

Yuan Gaofeng himself was the first official since the founding of the Great Sui to be personally granted the posthumous title of “Wenzheng” by the emperor.

Yuan Gaofeng inquired, “I wonder what brings the Master of Maoshan here?”

Mao Xiaodong retorted, “Are you feigning ignorance?”

Yuan Gaofeng remained expressionless. “Please speak plainly, Master Mao.”

Mao Xiaodong slowly said, “I wish to take a portion of your Wen Yun (Literary Fortune) from the Wen Miao (Confucian Temple), and borrow another portion. Among the various ceremonial vessels of the Wen Miao, I intend to temporarily take a set of Bianqing (Chime Stones), as well as one Gui (Food Vessel), one Dou (Ladle), and two Zhutai (Candlesticks). This is our rightful share, belonging to the Cliffside Academy. Furthermore, I wish to borrow the Qinghua (Blue and White) jar that you later moved from a local Wen Miao, commissioned by Imperial Censor Yan Qingguang. Aside from the Wen Yun contained within, the objects themselves will, of course, be returned to you in their entirety.”

Yuan Gaofeng asked, “Why don’t you, Mao Xiaodong, simply rob us?”

True to his origin as a Confucian general, he spoke directly and without ambiguity.

Mao Xiaodong laughed, “If I could manage to rob you, I wouldn’t bother being polite.”

Yuan Gaofeng sneered, “You are aware, then? Listening to your straightforward words and grandiose tone, I almost believed that you, Mao Xiaodong, are now a Jade Purity Realm Sage of the Academy.”

Yuan Gaofeng then added, “But even the Jade Purity Realm seems insufficient. Unless you, Mao Xiaodong, can relocate the entire Donghua Mountain to the Wen Miao, you will not succeed, no? Insufficient cultivation is one difficulty, and moving the Donghua Mountain’s Wen Yun with the divine power of an immortal is another. Difficulty upon difficulty, truly a predicament for you, Great Master Mao.”

Mao Xiaodong surveyed his surroundings and chuckled. “How would I move it? The mountain is larger than the temple. Would I simply smash it down, engulfing the Wen Miao? Wouldn’t the Great Sui’s premier Wen Miao be utterly destroyed?”

Yuan Gaofeng’s expression turned stern. “Mao Xiaodong, cease your mercantile tactics. I, Yuan Gaofeng, will not haggle with you here. You may be shameless, but I fear staining my reputation! You are well aware of the Wen Miao’s bottom line!”

Mao Xiaodong seemed unfazed.

Chen Pingan, however, felt a surge of majestic and righteous Qi, with faint, shimmering, seven-colored lights gathering and dispersing, almost solidifying into tangible form.

Chen Pingan’s true Qi flow stagnated, and the Water Mansion, nurturing the “Water” character talisman, involuntarily sealed its doors tightly. The green-clad children born from the essence of the Water Vein trembled in fear.

Mao Xiaodong did not intervene to stop Yuan Gaofeng’s deliberate show of force, allowing Chen Pingan to endure the suppression of the concentrated Wen Yun.

Mao Xiaodong extended his hand and pointed towards the main hall. “Let us discuss this in detail in the rear hall.”

Yuan Gaofeng hesitated for a moment before agreeing.

Mao Xiaodong told Chen Pingan to look around the front hall and that the rear hall was off limits.

As Mao Xiaodong and Yuan Gaofeng entered the rear hall, several golden-bodied deities emerged from their clay statues.

Chen Pingan slowly walked through the solemn and dignified front hall. This was Chen Pingan’s first time entering the main hall of the Wen Miao in a national capital. When he was in the Tongye Continent, he did not accompany the Yao family to the Mirage City of the Great Quan Dynasty, or he would have paid a visit. Later, in the Qingluan Kingdom’s capital, due to the prevalence of debates between Buddhism and Taoism, Chen Pingan did not have the opportunity to tour it. As for the capital of the Nanyuan Kingdom in the Lotus Flower Blessed Land, it did not have a Wen Miao dedicated to the Seventy-Two Sages.

No matter how far one travels or how closely one observes, there will inevitably be such omissions. It is impossible to truly see all the scenery.

As time flowed and dusk approached, Chen Pingan, alone, having barely made a sound, had repeatedly examined the statues in the front hall. He had previously encountered the life stories of these “Sages” accompanying the Wen Miao in the “Classic of Mountains and Seas” and the writings of scholars, essays, and travelogues from various countries. This was a point that the common people in the vast world found difficult to understand about Confucianism. Even the Masters of the Seventy-Two Academies were commonly referred to as Sages. Why were these Great Sages, possessing profound knowledge and great merit, only named with the character “Xian” (Worthy) by orthodox Confucianism? It should be known that among the various academies, unlike the even rarer Junzi (Gentlemen), Xianren (Worthy People) were not few in number.

Mao Xiaodong returned from the rear hall, and Chen Pingan noticed that the old man’s expression was not good.

Being in the Wen Miao, Chen Pingan did not ask much.

After the two exited the Wen Miao, Mao Xiaodong took the initiative to speak, “Every last one of them is a miser, unwilling to part with a single strand of hair. Truly difficult to negotiate with.”

Chen Pingan nodded.

Mao Xiaodong looked up at the sky. “Having openly and honestly toured the Wen Miao, after dinner, we’ll take advantage of the darkness to try our luck at the other places where Wen Yun gathers. We won’t dawdle, and we’ll act quickly, striving to return to the academy before the rooster crows tomorrow morning. As for the Wen Miao, we certainly can’t let them be so stingy. We’ll come here every day from now on.”

After the two crossed two streets, they found a nearby restaurant. Before the food was served, Mao Xiaodong told Chen Pingan with a mental voice, “The atmosphere in the Wen Miao is strange. I can understand Yuan Gaofeng being so unapproachable, but the other two Great Confucian Scholars of the Great Sui, who surfaced today to support Yuan Gaofeng, have always been known for their gentle temperament in history. They shouldn’t be so forceful.”

Chen Pingan poured two bowls of rice wine from his Gourd of Nurturing Swords and asked, “Could it be that Yuan Gaofeng is actually trying to remind us in this way? The deities of the capital’s Wen Miao must have already seen the undercurrents within the Great Sui, but since both sides are equally precious to them, and it involves the Gao family’s imperial destiny and the Wen Yun of the Great Sui, it’s difficult for them to make a decision, so they simply stand by and watch. But they’re unwilling to see us kept in the dark, harming the Cliffside Academy’s lineage, so they deliberately act stern, using unconventional words and deeds to warn us to be careful of the situation outside the Wen Miao?”

Mao Xiaodong was somewhat gratified and smiled. “You guessed correctly.”

Mao Xiaodong looked out the window of the restaurant and tsked. “I thought that the other party would observe our lure for a while longer, or at least send some small fish and shrimp to peck at it when there were fewer people at night. I didn’t expect…”
“Who would have thought, before dusk even falls, and so close to the Confucian Temple with the bustling crowds, they would unleash their ultimate weapon, utterly deranged. When did the literati of the Great Sui become so decisive and bloodthirsty?”

Chen Ping’an slowly sipped the fragrant rice wine.

Mao Xiaodong smiled and asked, “Not the least bit nervous?”

Chen Ping’an set down his wine bowl and said, “To be honest, Mountain Master Mao, I’ve been in plenty of fights, seen quite a few things.”

Mao Xiaodong then asked, “How much have you seen?”

Chen Ping’an pondered for a moment, then answered honestly, “I’ve fought an old Nascent Soul stage dragon guarding a small world in Dragon Flood Ravine, carried the sword of that Great Sword Immortal from the Great Wall of Sword Qi on my back, and endured a strike from a Ascension Realm cultivator’s natal magic treasure, the Sword-Swallowing Ark.”

Mao Xiaodong laughed heartily.

Chen Ping’an suppressed a smile and added a flattering remark, “And I’ve even shared a table and drinks with Mountain Master Mao.”

Mao Xiaodong quickly raised his large white bowl, “The earlier things, we won’t dwell on, but this last one, we must properly drink a large bowl of wine for.”

After finishing his wine, Chen Ping’an suddenly asked, “Can you ascertain their approximate numbers and cultivation levels?”

Mao Xiaodong nodded, “These past few years, my seemingly aimless wanderings with Little Treasure Bottle have actually been part of a plan, trying to accomplish something. What that is, we’ll leave aside for now, but within a thousand zhang of me, I know everything about cultivators below the Upper Five Realms and pure martial artists below the Ninth Realm. These five assassins consist of one Ninth Realm Golden Core sword cultivator, one Military strategist in the Dragon Gate Realm, one Dragon Gate Realm formation master, one Distant Travel Realm martial artist, and one Golden Body Realm martial artist.”

Chen Ping’an said helplessly, “I might not be of much help.”

Mao Xiaodong smiled, rose, and retrieved the Day-Night Wandering God true form talisman from his sleeve, handing it back to Chen Ping’an who stood up with him, saying in a whispered tone, “There’s no reason for a senior brother to squander his junior brother’s belongings, put it away.”

Chen Ping’an hesitated.

Mao Xiaodong asked with a smile, “What, do you think the enemy is too strong, and I, Mao Xiaodong, am being too arrogant? Have you forgotten what I said before? As long as there aren’t any Jade Purity Realm cultivators helping them, I can handle them all.”

Chen Ping’an frowned, “What if there are?”

Mao Xiaodong chuckled, “Then I’ll be even more at ease. Their appearance here, while not enough to kill me, will prove that the academy has no hidden moves or killing formations they’ve laid in wait.”

While Mao Xiaodong showed no immediate signs of action.

Chen Ping’an silently poured himself another bowl of wine.

Mao Xiaodong asked curiously, “What’s that for?”

Chen Ping’an, while lowering his head and gulping down the wine, replied, “Learning from Zhu Lian, drinking the penalty wine.”

Mao Xiaodong laughed and scolded, “You little rascal, you’re eagerly waiting for a Jade Purity Realm cultivator to appear here, aren’t you?!”

Chen Ping’an smiled slightly.

Mao Xiaodong glanced at the jade hairpin, and remained silent.