Xu Mochen decided to try to use the water of Xuehai to wash away Wenshan's ink characters, and he was well prepared.
This vast amount of literature and knowledge was all accumulated from the bottleneck problems that Lin Zhuxi could not break through in the process of using literature to prove the immortal way.
Strictly speaking, they are just distracting thoughts.
He didn't know if he could resist it, but Tang Derun was really like a deer, so he couldn't withstand the impact.
Xu Mochen originally received a modern education, but after coming here, he did not pay attention to the literature and education of this world. The two are not compatible.
As the sea water fell, he activated the eight-phase soul condensation to tightly protect his body and soul.
It's nothing more than a physical body. After all, he is at the level of the Golden Core Realm. With the blessing of magical powers, the sea water only corroded part of his clothes.
But the cultural power contained in the water seeped into his skin and poured directly into his mind.
Xu Mochen felt like whips were hitting him one after another, and his whole head seemed to explode.
The culture of this world was given to the human race by immortal cultivators, with the intention of controlling and manipulating the human race.
The emphasis is on the masters of heaven and earth, like five shackles, tightly imprisoning Xu Mochen's consciousness.
As a result, he fainted for a moment, and his whole body followed the sea water and fell into the sea of xue below.
The vast sea of learning contained endless power of literature and art. The moment Xu Mochen fell into it, he regained a little bit of his senses.
In fact, it might be better not to recover, then you won't feel the pain.
All kinds of negative emotions washed over him, and he was overwhelmed with emotions.
Even so, Xu Mochen was still working hard. He wanted to digest even a little bit of resistance.
He didn't want to die and couldn't die.
Not sure where this emotion came from, Xu Mochen tried hard to open his eyes.
It was pitch dark all around, and he didn't know where he was sinking in the sea of learning.
The light above dimmed little by little, and Xu Mochen felt that he would soon be swallowed up by darkness.
...Swallowed by darkness?
He couldn't help but frown, this feeling seemed very familiar.
A person who sinks into the ocean is always trying to catch something unconsciously.
Xu Mochen stretched out his right hand towards the small bright spot above.
Suddenly, the small bright spot grew bigger and brighter, swallowing him whole.
Xu Mochen remembered it, and new memories flooded into his mind.
The Third Life of the Ten Sins.
What he saw in front of him was a gorgeous and luxurious house, with birds singing and flowers fragrant outside. He stood at the window and looked back at the room. There were several rows of bookshelves filled with books.
There is also a desk with pens, ink, paper, inkstones, and rice paper spread out.
There are four big characters written on the rice paper, "Wen Yi Zhi Tao", and the ink has not yet dried.
He is the youngest prince of a small eastern country, and also the most talented one.
This year, he was only seventeen years old.
At the age of seventeen, his articles, calligraphy, poems and songs were already famous all over the world.
This world refers not only to the small country where he is located, but to the entire Middle Earth.
The reason why he has such literary talent is not only because of his talent, but also closely related to the small country governed by his father.
It was also a troubled time, and other countries were competing for war, emphasizing military force over culture. However, the country he was in paid great attention to culture and governance.
The country does not have a powerful army, a tall city, or horses and weapons, but it does have the most precious books in all of China.
He remembered what his father said the most, that is, "Martial arts can unify the country, and literature can prosper the world."
The particularity of the country's foundation makes it like a strange flower in troubled times.
The emperor personally issued an edict to collect all kinds of books from all over the world, and accumulated them year by year, and finally reached the current situation.
When he was a child, his father held his hand and opened the door of the library. He was shocked to see rows of tall bookshelves with thousands of books neatly stacked on them.
It was at that time that he entered the world of literature and art and became deeply addicted to it.
From spending a month reading a book, to reading a book every ten days, to reading a book a day, to finally reading a book every stick of incense.
The more I read, the more I read, and the faster I read.
He has never counted how many books there are in the library. Over the past few years, he has only read less than half of them.
I told my father about this matter, but the latter just smiled: There are endless books in the world.
Later, he realized that it was not that he had not finished reading it, but that after reading it, his father would collect new books.
It can be said to be endless.
Then he gradually understood that no matter how many books he read, they were just books written by others.
After all, you still have to write what you want to express.
He started writing, and he didn't know why, as if he was a son of literary fortune favored by God, and he was cheating all the way in this regard.
I don't know when he started, but he always stood alone in the courtyard, looking up at the only big tree.
In his mind, he was thinking and conceiving, mixed with various feelings.
When he turned around, the ink had been ground, pens laid out, and paper laid out on the desk.
He smiled slightly, put up his pen and started writing.
Write what he wants to write.
Slowly, his words and poems began to spread in the palace and capital, then spread to various parts of the country, and then spread to the entire world.
In this era, the literary culture was low and there were only a few students. Whenever they got his new works, they would read them over and over again and marvel at them.
What he writes is not only romantic and romantic, but also contains feelings, power and represents hope.
When students all over the world read his articles, they seemed to feel that the rise of civilized society was coming.
Finally one day, his father was old and lying on the bed dying.
The princes knelt in front of the old emperor, crying and crying, thinking only about the edict of passing the throne.
No matter how bad things get, there is still a "legacy" to explain.
The edict arrived as scheduled. After it was read out, someone cried louder. That was the new emperor who was about to inherit the throne. Crying represented his filial piety and peace of mind.
Some people stopped crying and kept their voices secretive, thinking about other things in their minds.
He was the only one with an expressionless face, and the edict mentioned him, the old emperor's favorite prince.
There is only one explanation, and that is to hand over the library to him.
At this moment, he owned the largest library of books in the world.
His heart became more determined, and he firmly believed that his father said that literature can prosper the world.
He became more and more diligent, and his body began to emit a little fragrance.
When he didn't know it, he entered the immortal way through literature and opened the door to immortality.
Unfortunately, the wheel of history often does not change because of the change of one person.
In troubled times, a country cannot survive only by relying on pen and paper.
Whoever has a bigger fist has more say in this era.
What's more, this is originally a world of immortal cultivators.
The national imperial power of the human race is just a decoration.
What really drives historical changes is the world of ten directions.
It's just that at this time, he didn't know the other party's existence.
(End of chapter)
