Chapter 20: The First Page
Even the most bottomless abyss cannot remain inescapable forever. The reason Xu Shiji could make such a cruel and resolute judgment about Chen Changsheng's fate was because he knew very well that above the abyss of the National Academy lay two shackles that no one could break—Her Holiness the Saintess and His Holiness the Pope.
Even if His Holiness the Pope was merciful and benevolent, and after so many years the hatred had faded, and he once again recalled his fellowship with the former dean of the National Academy, unwilling to let the academy truly become history, and chose to close his eyes and ignore it—what about Her Holiness the Saintess? Back then, the National Academy had been the most important source of support for the old imperial clan opposing her. How could she possibly allow the National Academy to shine again?
Everyone knew that in Her Holiness the Saintess's dictionary, the word "forgiveness" had never existed. The countless imperial clan members who had fallen in pools of blood and Lord Zhou Tong, whose name could stop babies from crying at night, were clear evidence. For the National Academy to gain a new life? Unless Her Holiness the Saintess abdicated or died. But would Her Holiness the Saintess abdicate? Could anyone kill her? No. Then the abyss would forever remain an abyss.
Chen Changsheng returned to the inn, took a quarter-hour to wash up as usual, then cleaned his clothes and shoes. He rubbed his wet hair with a clean white towel until it was nearly dry, put on fresh, crisp clothes, carried a pot of very light green tea, sat down in a bamboo chair under the tree in the courtyard, and began to watch the stars.
As someone who treasured time above all, even though the star-filled sky was beautiful and enchanting, he allowed himself only a few glances. After drawing some spiritual strength from the eternal positions of those stars, he took out the letter of recommendation bearing the Pope's signature from his bosom and began to think about the events of the day.
He had stood in the corridor of the Ecclesiastical Office for half a day before remembering this letter of recommendation, and only then did he truly understand what the Pope's signature meant. The deacon Xin's reaction—first arrogant, then deferential—was too obvious. This had brought him many conveniences, but inevitably also many questions.
Why had that Granny Ning given him this letter of recommendation? If she only wanted him to keep his mouth shut, or even to hand over the marriage contract, he believed that these great figures with power beyond his imagination had countless methods at their disposal. Yet this method alone was hard to understand. This letter of recommendation… seemed like compensation for some debt.
What did the other party want to compensate him for? For staying silent about the marriage contract? Or was the National Academy really not a good place? He remembered clearly that Granny Ning had said at the time that this was the best choice for everyone, except for him. What exactly was the problem with the National Academy?
He knew about the National Academy's glorious history, but the major event that turned it into a ghost garden had happened just over a decade ago, too close to the present. With the Saintess in power, those events naturally could not be recorded in books or scrolls. He could only make some guesses based on the deacon Xin's reaction—the deacon Xin had been first arrogant, then deferential, but clearly still wanted to keep his distance. The Pope's letter of recommendation hadn't fully exerted its effect, which showed that the National Academy's problems could, to some extent, offset the Pope's authority.
He thought about it but couldn't figure it out. He decided not to waste more time guessing. Even if there were problems, he didn't care much. What he wanted to obtain was not something those great figures were unwilling to give. He didn't want this marriage; he only wanted to qualify for direct participation in the Grand Examination. At the same time, he needed to read many books.
The Six Ivies had many books. On this point, his master had not deceived him.
He woke at the fifth hour of the morning, following the same schedule he had kept for the past fourteen years—washing, eating, preparing. He spent some extra time packing his luggage and moving it to the carriage he had arranged the night before. With the morning sun on his right shoulder, he left the inn where he had stayed for several days and headed toward the National Academy near the imperial palace in the north of the city.
He hadn't checked out of his room at the inn, because he wasn't short on money and also because he knew he would definitely return. When he returned that day, he would not stand on the inn's back terrace staring at the distant Mausoleum of Books in a daze. He would surely be able to enter the Mausoleum of Books and see those legendary stone tablets up close.
Deep in Hundred Flowers Lane, unlike the quiet desolation of the past decade or more, voices clamored. Several hundred laborers and maids, holding all kinds of tools, were busy at work. Judging by the remnants of torches stuck in the grass, these people had been working from last night until now, without rest.
Chen Changsheng carried his luggage to the lakeside and found that the deacon Xin had indeed not appeared, further confirming his suspicions. Fortunately, nothing had gone wrong with what the deacon Xin had promised him yesterday. The academy, which had looked like a cemetery yesterday, was now gradually regaining its original appearance as the weeds and vines were cleared away.
The half-ruined pavilions and terraces naturally could not be repaired in such a short time, but the hundreds of people working day and night had at least restored some luster to the exteriors of those buildings. Especially the few small buildings in the grove, which had been cleaned quite thoroughly. Once the musty smell dissipated, they should be livable.
The hundreds of people diligently cleaning the academy were all low-level staff from the Hall of Heavenly Virtue of the State Religion. In previous years, they would handle the overall cleaning of academies like the Heavenly Dao Academy. Although they didn't understand why they had been sent to clean the long-abandoned National Academy, they worked very skillfully, and even working through the night didn't reduce their efficiency.
…
…
The sunlight shifted slowly. The cleaning of the small building was basically finished. Chen Changsheng, carrying his luggage, walked into the building closest to the library under the curious and awed gazes of the laborers. The musty smell hit him again. Although it was lighter than yesterday, it was still clearly noticeable. It seemed that even with sun and wind, it might take several more days to completely dissipate.
He really didn't like the smell of mold. After putting down his luggage without lingering, he turned and left the small building, heading toward the library just one wall away.
As he had requested yesterday, the library did not need cleaning—the key was in his hands, so no one else could enter to clean it. At this moment, the staff of the Hall of Heavenly Virtue were all busy around the main building and several annexes. There was no one around the library, quiet and silent.
He walked up the stone steps, arrived at the door, and took out the key he had obtained from the Ecclesiastical Office. He inserted it into the old bronze lock. As the key went in, the old, slightly green rust flakes curled up like wood shavings and fell to the ground. Finally, a click sounded, as if a stone had fallen into place, landing perfectly in a small pit filled with fine sand, giving a particularly satisfying feeling.
The key turned gently, smooth and silent. Chen Changsheng clearly felt some springs inside the bronze lock being triggered and then settling into their proper positions. At the same time, the aura he had sensed before slowly withdrew entirely into the deepest part of the lock. The whole process was quite magical.
He pushed the door open and was immediately confronted by rows upon rows of bookshelves stretching deep into the shadows of the library, their ends invisible. This gave a very strong visual impact. The shelves were densely packed with books. Seeing this scene filled him with joy. When he realized that the dust here was not as thick as his eyes had suggested yesterday, he became even happier.
The National Academy had been abandoned for many years. The furniture in the other buildings had been stolen and sold by who knows whom. Even the bed boards in the dormitory buildings were gone. The deacon Xin had started having the Ecclesiastical Office urgently repair and replenish them last night. Only this library, because it had been locked, was preserved quite well.
Chen Changsheng fetched cleaning tools and simply swept the area near the entrance. He discovered that the floor was so polished it could reflect one's image, made of precious fragrant sandalwood. He couldn't help shaking his head repeatedly, thinking that when this academy was at its peak, it must have been magnificently splendid. Who would have thought it would fall into dust for so many years?
What should he do next?
He should begin his cultivation.
…
…
Chen Changsheng found the catalog in a drawer of the library's side room, then walked into the long aisles between the bookshelves. It didn't take him long to find the first book he was looking for.
This book was called "On Marrow Cleansing."
The title was very simple, clearly indicating that it dealt with knowledge related to marrow cleansing. Because it was simple, it was also very common.
To combat the Mo Clan, whose strength was terrifying and whose combat talent was unmatched, the human world forbade keeping basic methods—such as the entry-level techniques for the Marrow Cleansing realm—as secrets. Of course, the various major sects naturally had their own more powerful methods. The basic cultivation techniques, like the stone tablets at the Mausoleum of Books, appeared freely before everyone's eyes.
This "On Marrow Cleansing" was a cultivation method that could be bought in any large city or small town.
But Chen Changsheng had truly never read it, because for the past fourteen years, his master had always told him there was no need to learn it, that it wouldn't be too late to start when the time came. He had asked when that time would be, but his master had never answered him. Until this time, before leaving Xining, when he said he wanted to go down the mountain to the capital, to see the Mausoleum of Books and the Pavilion of Misty Smoke…
That day, his master finally said to him: "Then, you may begin your cultivation now."
He picked up "On Marrow Cleansing," walked back to the door, sat down on the cleaned floor, and, using the daylight spilling in from outside, opened the first page.
Logically, at such a moment, he should have shown at least some excitement or nervousness.
But he didn't.
Throughout the entire process, his expression didn't change at all. He was very calm, as if he were doing something he had done many times before.
If anyone had seen this scene, they would never have guessed that this was his first time reading a book about cultivation.
At the Eastern Divine General's Mansion and the Heavenly Dao Academy, he had said words like these: "It's not that I can't cultivate; it's just that I haven't cultivated yet."
He had had countless opportunities to begin cultivation, but the time had not yet come.
He had waited for a very long time. When this day finally arrived, perhaps because he had waited too long, he no longer had the energy for excitement. Only calm remained.
He opened the first page of the book.
On that page were written eight words.
"Read a book a hundred times, and its meaning will naturally appear."