Chapter 209: Viewing the Stele at Dawn
The courtyard was silent, the atmosphere oppressive. Chen Changsheng broke the stillness.
He walked into the house, looked at the half-eaten bowl of tea-soaked rice that Tang Thirty-Six had left behind, and for some reason, suddenly felt very angry. Normally, he would have washed the bowl himself and carefully wiped the table twice, but he wasn't in the mood. He said to everyone, "I'm going to sleep."
With that, he turned and entered the main room, found a set of bedding, and covered his face with it.
The others were still immersed in that complex and sorrowful mood. Seeing that he had actually gone to sleep, they couldn't help but be surprised. Guan Feibai raised an eyebrow slightly and said with displeasure, "What a cold-blooded fellow."
Gou Hanshi shook his head, signaling him to stop.
Tang Thirty-Six sneered, "You're just a competitive brute. What's the difference between you and that old geezer under the pavilion?"
At that moment, Zhe Xiu suddenly said, "It's better to have cold blood."
Everyone was stunned. Even Tang Thirty-Six found this statement too far-fetched.
"With cold blood, you're less likely to burn up, and even less likely to go mad."
Zhe Xiu explained expressionlessly, then turned and entered the inner room, found another set of bedding, lay down on the bed, and started sleeping.
Tang Thirty-Six suddenly thought of something and followed him inside, saying, "How many sets of bedding are there? You guys aren't going to use them all, are you?"
Hearing this, Guan Feibai jumped up from the threshold and shouted inside, "No matter how many, we need at least two on our side!"
Before he died, Xun Mei had left the thatched cottage to these young people. The solemnity of the gesture made it seem as if this cottage was the greatest legacy he had in the mortal world. But in reality, the cottage was extremely shabby. It looked like it had three rooms—besides the kitchen, there was the main room and the inner room—but the kitchen couldn't be used for sleeping. The remaining two rooms were very small, and seven people living there was truly cramped.
Chen Changsheng, Tang Thirty-Six, and Zhe Xiu took the relatively better inner room. After all, they had arrived first, and Xun Mei had left the rooms to them largely because of their presence. So the four from Li Mountain Sword Sect raised no objections, though Guan Feibai fought tooth and nail to grab two sets of bedding.
Xun Mei had only left three sets of bedding, all reeking of sourness and sweat. With two sets taken, only one remained. Fortunately, Zhe Xiu had grown up on the snowy plains. For ordinary people, the chilly spring weather felt like early summer to him, so he didn't need a blanket. Tang Thirty-Six, being a rich young master, had brought a fur pelt with him. Thus, Chen Changsheng was lucky enough not to have to share a bed with anyone.
As the night deepened, Chen Changsheng still lay with his eyes open, unable to sleep.
It wasn't because of the sour smell from the bedding, though that was certainly one reason.
A man who had slept on this bed for thirty-seven years had just died before their eyes. Who could sleep?
Many others were also awake, just like him.
"Was it worth it?" Tang Thirty-Six asked, looking at the stars in the night sky outside the window, his mood low.
Zhe Xiu lay with his eyes closed, not asleep, but he didn't speak. In his view, this wasn't a question worth considering.
Chen Changsheng also didn't speak, but under the bedding, his hand gripping the black stone tightened. Last night in the Lingyan Pavilion, he had understood some things. Tonight in the Mausoleum of Books, he had encountered some things. Too many things had come too suddenly, catching his fifteen-year-old self off guard. In truth, he was even more lost than Tang Thirty-Six.
Staring at the starry sky, sensing his own distant little red star, he thought silently: if he wanted to change his own fate, he first had to change the fates of those connected to him, to make those stars shift. But how could he know which star corresponded to which person beside him? Xun Mei... which star was he? A connection had already formed between them. Would his death change something? Or was it precisely because he had entered the Mausoleum of Books that Xun Mei's fate had changed? If he wanted to change his own fate, would it truly bring suffering and death to those around him?
What if the star affected was his senior brother's? What if it was Tang Thirty-Six's? What if it was Luoluo's? Even if it were Xu Yourong, could he coldly watch her star dim? Just as he was pondering these random thoughts, Tang Thirty-Six suddenly sat up, pushed the fur pelt aside, and kept tugging at his collar to fan himself.
"What's wrong?" Chen Changsheng asked.
"A bit hot," Tang Thirty-Six said. "I don't know how my family prepared this."
Chen Changsheng smiled but said nothing.
Tang Thirty-Six suddenly turned to him and said very seriously, "Chen Changsheng, I have something to say to you."
Chen Changsheng was puzzled. "What?"
Tang Thirty-Six said earnestly, "From now on, no matter what happens, I won't say thank you to you, and you don't have to say you're welcome to me."
Hearing this, Chen Changsheng was silent. He knew that Tang Thirty-Six had been moved by the final exchange between Xun Mei and Wang Po.
Guan Feibai's mocking voice came from outside the door: "Why should you thank Chen Changsheng, and he say you're welcome to you? Are you so sure you'll become Wang Po in the future, and Chen Changsheng will inevitably be inferior to you, only playing the role of spurring you forward? Don't forget, he's already reached Tongyou, and you're still far behind!"
After saying those words, Tang Thirty-Six was in the midst of a deep brotherly sentiment. Hearing this, he flushed with anger and shouted outside, "As if you're that much better than me!"
Guan Feibai sneered, "Not much better, but still better."
Gou Hanshi barked, "Stop arguing."
Chen Changsheng said, "Let's sleep early."
The room finally quieted down, but it wasn't long before they heard Qijian's timid voice.
"Second Senior Brother, I... I... think I'm hungry."
Silence, then laughter erupted.
Qijian's face turned bright red.
Chen Changsheng noticed that Zhe Xiu, with his eyes closed, had a slight curl at the corner of his mouth.
After a few rounds of teasing and bickering, everyone's emotions calmed down a bit, and they gradually fell asleep.
Chen Changsheng was still awake, quietly gazing at the star-filled night sky outside the window.
Tonight, Xun Mei had said he learned something from him and Zhe Xiu. In truth, Chen Changsheng had also learned a lot.
Zhe Xiu had said that the most important thing about living isn't living itself, but living—or dying—with clarity. For Chen Changsheng, the most important thing was to live according to his heart. In the old temple in Xining Town, following his master, he had studied the Daoist scriptures and practiced the Daoist arts. He hadn't learned to kill with flying swords or achieve immortality, but to follow his heart.
Living toward death, the only meaningful thing lies between life and death. Of course, one must be clear-minded, and of course, one must follow one's heart.
And precisely because he truly lived toward death, he had cultivated the principle of "following his heart" very well in previous years. He went to the Divine General's residence to break off the engagement, appeared at the Green Vine Banquet, and finally secured a place on the ranking list in the Grand Examination. But when he truly entered the Lingyan Pavilion and discovered that secret, for the first time in years, he saw hope for life, yet his heart was disturbed instead.
He had suddenly lost interest in cultivation. He spent a day as a tourist in the Mausoleum of Books, all because his heart was in turmoil. Fortunately, he heard Zhe Xiu's answer and saw Xun Mei heading toward the Mausoleum of Books. Xun Mei had taken thirty-seven years to wake up; Chen Changsheng had taken only one night. It must be said, this was a very fortunate thing.
Having regained his calm state of mind, Chen Changsheng naturally returned to his familiar life rhythm. Even though he had encountered so many things last night and was physically and mentally exhausted, and had slept late, at five in the morning, when the sky wasn't even faintly lit, he opened his eyes and woke up.
After waking, he didn't get up immediately. As usual, he spent five breaths calming his mind, then got up, put on his shoes and clothes. When he was about to make the bed and fold the bedding, he remembered there were still two people in the bed. Tang Thirty-Six was tightly clutching the fur pelt, curled up like a child without a sense of security, while Zhe Xiu lay straight as a board—to put it bluntly, like a stone figurine.
He shook his head, walked to the outer room, and saw Gou Hanshi, Liang Banhu, and Guan Feibai sharing a single set of bedding, while Qijian slept in the corner, covered by his own blanket. He shook his head again, thinking that the closed-door disciple of the Li Mountain Sword Sect's sect leader indeed received different treatment.
He went to the courtyard, fetched water from the stream, washed up, cooked a large pot of plain congee, and steamed the remaining two-thirds of the salted fish from yesterday. He walked to the window and pushed it open, trying to wake Tang Thirty-Six. Tang Thirty-Six rolled back and forth on the bed twice, cursed three times, and refused to acknowledge him.
Chen Changsheng shook his head for the third time since waking, turned helplessly, and saw Zhe Xiu already squatting by the collapsed fence, brushing his teeth. He was a bit surprised and asked with a smile, "I didn't expect that."
Zhe Xiu, still squatting, didn't turn around and mumbled, "Didn't expect that this wolf cub also likes cleanliness?"
Chen Changsheng thought about it and realized that was indeed what he had been thinking. He said apologetically, "I was wrong."
Zhe Xiu threw away the twig—whether willow or something else—in his hand, scooped up some cold water to wash his face, and said, "Nothing wrong. On the snowy plains, I really don't wash my face every day. Grease can protect against the wind, but I brush my teeth at least twice a day and occasionally chew on some ice and snow."
Chen Changsheng asked for advice, "Why is that?"
Zhe Xiu said, "On the snowy plains, meat freezes very hard. Sometimes you have to eat raw meat, so you need good teeth to chew it."
Chen Changsheng thought for a moment and said, "That makes a lot of sense."
Zhe Xiu said, "In those tribes, the oldest people often have the best teeth."
Chen Changsheng noticed that his teeth were indeed very white and healthy.
The two of them each had three bowls of plain congee with the salted fish, then left the thatched cottage, crossed the large orange grove outside the garden, and headed toward the Mausoleum of Books.
No one spoke along the way; the atmosphere was very quiet.
When they were about to reach the main path at the foot of the Mausoleum of Books, Zhe Xiu suddenly stopped and said to him, "It's a bit strange."
Chen Changsheng was taken aback and asked, "What's strange?"
Zhe Xiu said, "I'm used to being alone."
Chen Changsheng thought for a moment and said, "Then you go first."
Zhe Xiu said, "I still need you to cure my illness, so of course you should go first. Besides brushing teeth, there's another rule on the snowy plains: you can't offend the doctor."
Chen Changsheng laughed and said, "There's no need to be polite about this."
Zhe Xiu didn't respond but directly extended a fist.
Chen Changsheng was slightly startled and said, "Do we have to fight for this too?"
Zhe Xiu said, "Do you know how to play rock-paper-scissors?"
Chen Changsheng said, "I only know rock-paper-scissors."
Zhe Xiu was silent for a moment, then said, "I only know that one too."
After wrapping his fist-like stone in a piece of cloth, Chen Changsheng won and left first. He followed the main path at the foot of the Mausoleum of Books northward, listening to the occasional sounds of morning birds fluttering through the forest. It didn't take long for him to reach the main gate of the Mausoleum of Books and step onto the only path where one could view the steles.
The steles were all in the mountains, so this path was naturally a mountain trail. But it wasn't very steep, paved with many stone steps, making the walk quite easy.
By now, morning had officially arrived. The rising sun peeked over the eastern horizon, illuminating the distant buildings of the capital. The Sweet Dew Terrace and Lingyan Pavilion in the Great Ming Palace were very conspicuous.
A cool morning breeze brushed his cheeks, morning light lit the path ahead. Walking through the quiet mountain forest, listening to the clear calls of morning birds, watching the sun playfully obscured by tree branches, Chen Changsheng's mood was calm and joyful. Compared to others, he was a day late, but he didn't mind.
Yes, this was indeed a waste of life.
As he had mentioned in his conversation with Zhe Xiu, chess, music, calligraphy, painting, and enjoying scenery were also wastes of life.
But what a beautiful way to waste life.
How wonderful it was to have life to waste.
In the quiet, uninhabited mountain forest, Chen Changsheng climbed the steps alone. Before long, he saw a stele. He walked up to it and saw that its surface was covered with marks from knives and chisels, with no characters or formed lines. It had clearly been destroyed. Remembering the decree of the Holy Empress back then, he knew this wasn't the stele he was supposed to see. He shook his head and continued on.
Not far ahead, he saw another stele.
This was a cliff face, with a hut built in front of it. The stele was inside the hut.
The eaves of the hut extended in all directions, so even the fiercest mountain wind and rain would have difficulty wetting the stele.
Chen Changsheng walked to the front of the hut and looked at the stele, his mind stirring slightly.
The shape of this stele wasn't very regular; its thickness wasn't even uniform. Compared to common steles in the world, it looked more like an unfinished product.
The surface of the stele was very smooth, touched by countless hands.
This was the Heavenly Book Stele.
The first stele of the Mausoleum of Books.
Chen Changsheng forced himself not to look at the stele's surface and instead looked around the hut.
Outside the hut, dense forests formed a barrier. The stone steps ended here, leaving only a stone platform.
Through the green forest, he could faintly see distant eaves or other stele huts, but there was no path leading elsewhere.
Seeing this scene, Chen Changsheng fell into thought.
Morning light spilled onto the stone platform, a clear breeze wove through the forest, and two kingfishers chirped as they flew into the sky.
Chen Changsheng snapped back to reality. He turned to face the stele in the hut and, almost instinctively, clasped his hands behind his back and began to observe quietly.
When his gaze fell upon the stele's surface, his heartbeat uncontrollably quickened.
(A few days ago, I said I wouldn't have to go out this year, but then I received a notice... On the 2nd, I have to attend a game launch event. Ah, well, see you all then. Yes, "Zhetian Ji OL" is about to start testing. You can pre-build characters tomorrow. Take a look—there will be free draws for various prizes every day. If you're lucky, you might even get an iPhone 6... The URL is the same as yesterday's: .c)