Chapter 237: Thus Should One View It (Part 2)
A thousand years ago, the Seventeen Stele of the Former Mausoleum did not exist in the world. When they suddenly appeared later, they naturally carried meaning, and Chen Changsheng now needed to find that meaning. Of course, he had also considered that this meaning might have vanished along with the lost Heavenly Book Stele, never to be found again. But if he now knew that his process of deciphering the Heavenly Book Stele was incomplete, yet made no attempt to seek out the missing part, then the flaw in his heart would never be remedied—something he could not accept.
The Zhaojing Stele, the Guanyun Stele, the Zhegui Stele, the Yinjiang Stele, the Jiyu Stele, the Dongting Stele... the Seventeen Stele of the Former Mausoleum all appeared before his eyes at once.
At the center of his vision was the Zhaojing Stele, while the other sixteen Heavenly Book Steles moved around it, constantly shifting, trying to combine into one. Yet the inscriptions were so profound and complex, the lines so intricate and baffling, with no natural connections between them, no traceable links between the marks. No matter how he tried to combine them, he could see no evidence that these inscriptions had ever been a single whole.
He even felt that even if the broken stele were restored to its original state and he could see its inscription, he still would not be able to piece all the inscriptions together.
For centuries, no one had ever discovered the secret of the Seventeen Stele of the Former Mausoleum—perhaps this already proved that his attempt was doomed to fail. He sat quietly outside the Stele Hut, and at some point, he had closed his eyes. Yet the seventeen Heavenly Book Steles still moved and combined rapidly in his sea of consciousness, never ceasing for a moment. This drained his spiritual energy faster and faster, his face growing paler and paler.
The world outside the Heavenly Book Mausoleum was equally silent. Most of the myriad lights in the capital had gone out, leaving only the mansions of nobles and royalty, as well as the Imperial Palace and the Li Palace—the two most important places—still brightly lit. The news that Chen Changsheng was determined to reinterpret the Former Mausoleum Steles shocked many, drawing mockery from some and keeping others awake all night.
Time flowed slowly and steadily. The brilliant stars in the night sky gradually faded. After the darkness before dawn, morning light returned to the earth. Unbeknownst to anyone, Chen Changsheng had already sat before the Stele Hut for an entire night. In the Heavenly Book Mausoleum and outside it, many people had also waited for him all night.
In the faint light of dawn, the stele viewers gradually came up the mountain path. Seeing Chen Changsheng sitting before the tree with his eyes closed, their expressions varied—some admiring, some mocking, some with an indescribable sense of relief. The situation last night had been unusual; Nian Guang could drive away all the stele viewers, but he couldn't keep doing that forever. So the forest gradually grew lively.
Some people shook their heads at Chen Changsheng and went to their own steles. Others deliberately lingered around the Stele Hut, wanting to see what insights Chen Changsheng would ultimately gain. They thought with schadenfreude that Chen Changsheng had deciphered all the Former Mausoleum Steles yesterday and could have left gracefully, but instead insisted on staying—he was likely to shoot himself in the foot. (Note)
The people from the thatched cottage also came to the Stele Hut. Tang Thirty-Six carried a pot of porridge. This young master of Wen Shui, born with a silver spoon, clearly had never done any housework; the porridge splashed everywhere, even soaking his shoes, making him look somewhat disheveled. Zhe Xiu brought pickled vegetables and steamed buns, while Qi Jian held bowls and chopsticks.
Chen Changsheng opened his eyes, took the porridge, thanked Qi Jian, and began to eat.
After two bowls of thin porridge and a steamed bun with fermented bean curd, he felt about seventy percent full and put down his chopsticks.
Tang Thirty-Six looked at his slightly pale face and said worriedly, "If you don't eat more, how can you hold up?"
Chen Changsheng said, "Eating too much makes me sleepy."
Tang Thirty-Six frowned and said, "Though I don't understand what exactly you're trying to decipher, since you insist, I know I can't persuade you. But do you really plan to go without sleep?"
Gou Hanshi stood by without speaking. He knew why Chen Changsheng was so anxious—because the day the Zhou Garden opened was drawing closer.
Zhe Xiu handed a wet towel to Chen Changsheng.
The towel had been soaked in stream water, very cold. Chen Changsheng vigorously rubbed his face, feeling his spirits recover slightly, and said to everyone, "Don't worry about me."
With that, he closed his eyes again.
Though his eyes were closed, Gou Hanshi and the others knew he was still viewing the steles. It might not hurt his eyes, but this method of viewing was extremely draining on the spirit.
Morning birds flew away toward the rising sun to dry the dampness from their wings. The area around the Stele Hut fell silent again, as if everyone had left.
Chen Changsheng sat cross-legged with his eyes closed, continuing to decipher the steles before the hut.
Time continued to flow, silently passing to noon, then to evening. The twilight was thick.
Today, the capital was as quiet as the Heavenly Book Mausoleum. The Archbishops in the Li Palace had no mood to listen to their subordinates' reports. The ministers at court had no heart to handle government affairs. Mo Yu's speed in reviewing memorials had slowed significantly. Her Holiness the Empress strolled through the Daming Palace with the black goat, lost in thought. The Pope watered the pot of green leaves seven times in one day.
Those who didn't know or understand regarded Chen Changsheng's actions as mere attention-seeking or a topic of conversation.
Those who knew about Zhou Dufu's deciphering of the steles back then and understood the inner workings of the Heavenly Book Mausoleum waited nervously for something to happen—or for it not to happen.
At least so far, that something had not happened.
The seventeen Heavenly Book Steles had recombined countless times in Chen Changsheng's vision, or rather, his sea of consciousness. Though he couldn't say he had exhausted all possibilities, he had done his utmost, expending immense mental energy. Regrettably, he still hadn't found what he was looking for. The world remained incomplete to him.
Suddenly, a flash of light crossed his mind. He stopped trying to combine these seventeen Heavenly Book Steles. More precisely, he stopped trying to combine them on a single plane. Instead, he arranged the seventeen Heavenly Book Steles in a straight line in his sea of consciousness.
Before him was the Zhaojing Stele, behind it the Guanyun Stele, then the Zhegui Stele, and so on, all lined up in a row.
Then he said to himself, "Only the inscriptions."
And so the bodies of the seventeen steles vanished, leaving only the extremely complex lines on their surfaces.
Seventeen layers of inscriptions floated before him, from near to far.
His gaze passed through the inscription of the Zhaojing Stele to see the inscriptions of the sixteen steles behind it.
These inscriptions overlapped, forming a brand-new pattern that Chen Changsheng had never seen, nor could he even imagine.
Looking at this pattern, his mind trembled slightly.
The Seventeen Stele of the Former Mausoleum—the later ones seemed simpler, more regular. The overlapping of lines meant the overlapping of patterns. Was what he sought hidden within?
Yet the lines on the Zhaojing Stele were already extremely complex and difficult to decipher. The lines on the later steles were relatively simpler but still intricate. Overlapping them created a pattern countless times more complex. With human mental strength, it could never be unraveled. Even attempting to decipher it would cause problems.
Chen Changsheng took one look, his spiritual sense stirred slightly, and he felt extreme discomfort. His sea of consciousness churned violently, and a sharp pain struck his chest.
He spat out a mouthful of blood, staining his clothes.
The area around the Stele Hut, which had been utterly silent as if deserted, erupted in gasps.
But seemingly afraid of disturbing Chen Changsheng, those people forcibly suppressed their gasps to a very low volume.
Chen Changsheng kept his eyes closed, unable to see what was outside the Stele Hut. His mind was also fixed on that infinitely complex pattern, so he didn't notice.
With just one look, he knew that this pattern was beyond human ability to decipher.
He said silently in his heart, "Simplify."
These two words were not directed at the pattern, but at himself.
In a cultivator's sea of consciousness, how you view the world determines how the world appears to you.
He forcibly steadied his mind, relying on a composure far beyond his years and the gentle spiritual sense that had once moved even Her Holiness the Empress, and looked again at the pattern.
He no longer tried to organize or calculate those lines. He simply looked at them, and so the pattern became simpler.
In that pattern, he saw countless simple drawings like a child's scribbles, countless characters, countless poems and songs, countless ink paintings, the magnificent architecture of the Li Palace, the great banyan tree of the National Academy, high mountains and drifting clouds, and the Three Thousand Daoist Scriptures.
Everything that existed in this world was within this pattern.
But it still wasn't enough, because it was still too much, too complex.
Chen Changsheng said silently to himself, "Simplify further."
He forgot the Three Thousand Daoist Scriptures he had memorized through years of hard study since childhood. He forgot the poems and songs he had read. He forgot that he had once been to the Li Palace. He forgot that he had once climbed that great banyan tree and stood shoulder to shoulder with Luoluo, gazing at the capital under the setting sun with contentment. He forgot all the characters he had ever learned. He forgot everything.
This forgetting was, of course, not true forgetting. It was a kind of mental self-isolation.
Only then could he ask himself a question.
If he were an illiterate child seeing the lines in this pattern, what would he think of?
Traces.
Traces of water flow.
Traces of cloud movement.
Traces left by a flock of wild geese flying across the blue sky.
Wherever one passes, traces are left behind... No, that is the vain and sour self-consolation of writers.
Snow geese fly across the blue sky, leaving no trace at all. What is called a snow line is merely an afterimage in the eye.
What do these lines point to and signify?
A snow line points to and signifies the snow geese at its front.
These lines point to and signify the starting point.
If there is no starting point, then it is the intersection of lines.
Simplify.
Chen Changsheng stared at that immensely complex pattern and said to himself again.
The seventeen steles overlapped before his eyes.
The stele bodies disappeared first.
Now the lines were disappearing.
More and more lines slowly vanished before his eyes, continuously vanishing.
More and more blank spaces slowly appeared before his eyes, continuously appearing.
The seventeen steles disappeared, the lines on them disappeared, and a new pattern emerged.
—It was countless isolated points.
Chen Changsheng was certain he had never seen this pattern before.
But for some reason, it felt familiar.
(Note: I thought for a long time but couldn't find a suitable expression. Actually, the most vivid description would be that those people thought Chen Changsheng was "pretending to be awesome but ended up looking like an idiot," but I couldn't write it that way, could I? I mention this specifically because I'm often told this phrase. Well, I still like Chen Changsheng's obsessive-compulsive nature—this was summarized by QQ Candy. "Thus should one view it" — everyone understands the meaning of this chapter title. It's not just about viewing the steles, but also about one's perspective, insisting on what one believes is right. That's very important. Also, a quick ad: I hear that the "Zhetian Ji" game will officially start its internal test at 5 PM on November 7th. That's right, just three days from now. Time really flies... Finally, this chapter was a bit difficult to write; the next one will come a little later.)