A middle-aged man with temples touched by frost, clad in a green Confucian shirt, descended slowly from the do of the great hall. He trod upon golden lotuses ford of words, resplendent characters flickering in and out of existence around him.
Sacred, bluish-purple Literary Qi surrounded him, and the sky above transford into illusory images of green lotuses and purple mulberry trees. Even standing among the many officials, buffeted by the imnse fortune of their offices, the unparalleled Holy Qi on his person could not be concealed. His Vast Righteous Qi was perfectly ford, a brilliant, dazzling gold.
The mont he appeared, all the stone statues in the Imperial Capital’s Wenchang Pavilion trembled slightly, as if in welco. Every scholar in the city instinctively looked toward the Imperial Palace, their eyes wide with astonishnt, understanding what this ant.
It was a pilgrimage to the Confucian Temple—a Saint had arrived!
These officials, who usually seed so superior, were all overco with joyous surprise. Even the Great Scholars who had rushed here from other Academies were stunned. Many officials from the Hanlin Academy began shouting as if they had lost their minds:
"The aura of a Saint! A Confucian Saint is here in person! A Confucian Saint is here!"
"It’s actually Senior Ji Qinglin! I’ve just recently been reading about his new school of thought, and today I get to see him in the flesh!"
Chen Ke heard this na and realized this person’s identity was no simple matter. He murmured, "Could it be..."
’This middle-aged man in the Confucian shirt is actually a Saint?!’
One had to understand that in all the history of the dynasties in the Central Divine Continent, only a dozen or so Confucian Saints had ever erged.
A Saint was a rare sight, appearing only once every five hundred years.
A Sage was seen once a century.
It required the perfect alignnt of ti, place, and people, as well as prevailing over all the other chosen geniuses of the era to finally distinguish oneself.
If a Dynasty produced a Saint, its Celestial Mandate could be extended by at least a hundred years.
Just then, a refined, unhurried voice descended from the sky.
This middle-aged man in the green Confucian shirt, gentle as jade, descended slowly with his hands clasped behind his back. His face was kind, his gaze clear, and only the Great Scholars present could perceive the formless Holy Qi radiating from him.
His voice was like a spring breeze, soothing one’s heart and spirit.
Though he revealed not a hint of sharpness and his tone was even kind, the Vast Righteous Qi he exuded was as dazzling as the morning sun.
The Great Scholar Liang Boyan turned to look at the man, a hint of surprise in his voice. "This voice... could it be..."
Surrounded by a host of ministers, Chief Minister Yuan Xuangang also looked over and said in a grave voice, "The first Mountain Master of Luochuan Academy, the first Chief Minister of the Great Zhou five hundred years ago, the contemporary Wen Sheng."
"We pay our respects to Wen Sheng."
The next mont, all the officials bowed in unison to the middle-aged man in the Confucian shirt to show their respect. They called him Su Wensheng.
There were two new Saints in the last thousand years: Wen Sheng and Li Sheng. Wen Sheng ca first, Li Sheng second.
Wen Sheng belonged to the Great Zhou Dynasty. He had supported a child emperor and, as the first Chief Minister, served as the Regent of Great Zhou. He worked conscientiously, extending the Great Zhou’s Celestial Mandate by another three hundred years. His accomplishnts in prose reached the highest realm. If he hadn’t been driven away by gossip and resigned from his post to live in seclusion, the Great Zhou would not have fallen so quickly.
The Great Zhou had enjoyed an eight-hundred-year reign, which was already quite long, and Wen Sheng was responsible for half of that success.
Dressed in his green robes, Su Wensheng had a refined and graceful bearing. Seeing everyone’s reverence, he couldn’t help but return the gesture, without a trace of affectation or arrogance.
"You are all too kind."
"For Su Wensheng to grace the Great Yan Imperial Palace with his presence brings light to our humble abode."
Even Yuan Xuangang had to show him so respect and express goodwill.
Though the man was an old minister of a previous dynasty, the Great Zhou had long since fallen, so it didn’t matter much. Everyone had simply served their own master. Maintaining a degree of respect now couldn’t be a mistake. They might even be able to recruit him and further advance Great Yan’s Fortune.
’Wen Sheng has been in seclusion for a hundred years, avoiding the world. For him to appear now, he must have a purpose!’
Chen Ke watched these great figures appear one after another, so shocked he had gone numb.
The Academies he had been desperate to enter, the Great Scholars he had dread of eting—now they were all gathered around him, their eyes filled with anticipation.
’This is a Confucian Saint!’
’How many people go their whole lives without ever eting a Great Scholar, let alone a Confucian Saint!’
And it was all because of him—because he had ascended to the Seventh Realm overnight and condensed the Literary Fortune Profound Bird.
But he knew in his heart that all the credit belonged to that line of poetry from the Sixth Prince.
His entire enlightennt began with that line. The line itself possessed no Literary Qi, nor was it blessed by Holy Words, yet it was the catalyst for his epiphany.
He suddenly rembered the Prince’s instructions.
No matter what, he was not to show the line to anyone else, nor could he say who gave it to him.
Thinking of this, Chen Ke felt the Prince must have his reasons.
’The Sixth Prince really is hiding his true depths,’ he thought.
Before, when he was listening to Elder Mr. Qi’s lecture in the study hall on the topic of "What is the Saintly Atmosphere?" he had thought the Sixth Prince’s answer was excellent.
Then, Su Wensheng looked at Chen Ke in the center of the hall. Noticing the young man’s nervous expression, he smiled.
"Truly, the younger generation is to be revered. What is your na?"
"This Confucian Scholar, Chen Ke, greets Wen Sheng."
Chen Ke said, bowing.
The more Su Wensheng looked at Chen Ke, the more pleased he beca. He could see the young man’s pure heart, his lack of arrogance and impatience, and couldn’t help but nod. "Your future is not murky at all. You bear the air of a saint and have the potential to achieve sainthood. You must not sell yourself short."
This statent caused everyone to gasp in surprise, not expecting Wen Sheng to give such a high evaluation.
"Since you were able to summon the Literary Fortune Profound Bird, it is proof enough of your talent in the Confucian Dao. But there is one thing that makes this old man rather curious. Why is the perspective in the poem that of an old man? Was there so special intent behind that design?" Wen Sheng asked.
His words sent many into deep thought.
’That’s right.’
They had never considered that question before.
Why was the perspective they saw, the voice of the Great Dao they heard, that of a poor, down-on-his-luck old man?
Recalling the story the Prince had told him, Chen Ke replied, neither servile nor overbearing, "The protagonist of the poem is an old scholar who failed the imperial examinations. He wandered everywhere, trying to offer his services but finding no patron. He possessed a compassionate heart but lacked the thunderous thods to enact change, and so he lived his life in lancholy. The author, a certain Mr. Yang, wished to use this line to establish his destiny and clarify his Dao."
"Listening to your tone, it sounds as if you weren’t the one who wrote this line?" the Great Scholar Liang Wengong asked with a smile.
"It was not . It was soone else, a gift from an old friend who hoped I would overco my predicant and not let my lofty ambitions fall."
Chen Ke had no intention of claiming the line as his own. After all, it belonged to the Prince.
"I was simply inspired when I saw these words, and that is what led to the you see today."
His words made many of the listeners nod repeatedly.
’For this young man to have such a sincere heart is truly rare.’
They also understood that if it weren’t for Chen Ke, the line would never have had the power to summon the Profound Bird phenonon; it would have remained just a line of words. Of course, the line itself was also crucial—like the source of a spring, without which there would be no water.
"This friend of his truly has a heart for helping the world and bringing peace to the people!"
"To have such breadth of mind, he must be a hermit of great talent."
"Truly stunning. ’A minor hermit hides in the city.’ It seems to be true."
Many began to praise this "old friend" Chen Ke spoke of.
Wen Sheng was even more satisfied with his performance. He gave a light smile and said, "More important than the line itself is that your perception and aptitude are both superior. This old man happens to have established a study in the Ba and Shu Region. Little friend, would you be interested in coming for a visit?"
As soon as he said this, the crowd was in an uproar.
’Does Wen Sheng an to take Chen Ke as his disciple?’
But honestly, it made sense.
So many great figures had co to the Imperial Court.
Many of the officials already understood.
’These Great Scholars all saw the phenonon of the Confucian Dao and ca one after another. They all want to poach Chen Ke!’
One had to know that long ago, Wen Sheng had three hundred disciples under him, each a dragon among n. Every one of them beca a high-ranking regional official or a pillar of the Imperial Court.
Unfortunately, after he went into seclusion hundreds of years ago, he had closed his doors and stopped accepting disciples.
’And now he’s making an exception for Chen Ke?’
Even the surrounding Great Scholars were astonished.
Hadn’t they co for the very sa reason—to recruit this world-shaking talent into their own Academies?
The developnt, scale, and reputation of an Academy all depended on the excellence of its disciples.
The more great talents an Academy had, the more famous it beca, and the greater its reputation grew.
They never imagined that the great Wen Sheng himself would co to compete with them for a student.
Just as everyone was still reeling in astonishnt, Chen Ke said sothing even more shocking.
"Thank you for your kind offer, Wen Sheng. I will certainly visit your study when I have the ti, but for now, I have no such plans. This Chen holds an important post and bears a royal command, and I have too many ties here."
’The kid actually refused!’
’A spot as a Saint’s disciple is sothing countless people could only dream of!’
The young scholars were all aghast. They couldn’t believe this kid was so arrogant as to look down on even a Saint.
But Chen Ke had his reasons for refusing.
First, his Dao was one of cultivating in the mortal world, of forging a path of peace for the Lower Class. It was not to study sutras under a Saint like a scholar’s attendant. That did not align with his Dao.
Second, he needed to read a vast number of books every day. Looking across the entire Central Plains World, only the Wenyuan Pavilion had the largest collection, accumulated over a thousand years.
The final reason was that he could not leave the Sixth Prince.
Besides being a Scholar, he now had another identity: a Guest Scholar under the Sixth Prince.
Although the Prince didn’t seem to take this status seriously, he himself could not. He still had to abide by his duty as a subordinate and remain by his side, awaiting orders.
Though he deeply respected the Saint, he had his own ideas.
Su Wensheng saw his thoughts at a glance. "So, you do not wish to leave the Imperial Capital because you bear many responsibilities."
He showed no sign of anger. On the contrary, he nodded with even greater approval, the admiration on his face growing stronger.
"There is a solution for that. This old man will accept you as a Registered Disciple. That way, you need not travel to my study."
Wen Sheng had given him another chance.
Chen Ke hadn’t expected him to be so accommodating.
To refuse again would be to not know what’s good for him. So, he perford a deep, respectful bow.
"Chen Ke greets you, Teacher."
Seeing this, the other Great Scholars all sighed, deeply regretting their missed opportunity.
Chen Ke was a great talent. Whoever could take him as a disciple would bring great glory to their lineage.
Clearly, they no longer had the chance.
Su Wensheng looked at the many Great Powers of the Confucian Dao and said seriously, "This old man has been in retirent for over a hundred years and has had many insights on the matter of teaching. At the sa ti, I am filled with anxiety for the future. The five-hundred-year cycle is nearing its end, yet no new school of thought has appeared, nor has anyone erged to stabilize the Celestial Mandate. All of you must redouble your efforts."
These words gave many people pause for thought.
Five hundred years was a cycle of reincarnation in Confucian thought, and also a turning point for a dynasty’s fortune.
There were ancient precedents of the Celestial Mandate changing every five hundred years.
But now, more than half of that ti had passed, and still no new, world-changing doctrine had been born, nor had a successor capable of shouldering the orthodoxy of Great Yan been established.
If the five-hundred-year reincarnation cycle passed without a new school of thought erging, and the reigning dynasty failed to seize the new Celestial Mandate, then a great calamity would arrive, and the dynasty’s fortune would completely decline.
To put it bluntly, the world needed more and more new blood to inject vitality into the common people; otherwise, everything would fall into decline.
As of now, no new school of thought had been born. The Great Yan Dynasty, the last to stabilize the Celestial Mandate, was now facing challenges from all sides and showing signs of decline. No matter how one looked at it, it was not a good on.
Only this Literary Fortune Profound Bird had injected a great deal of life and vitality into Great Yan.
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