"Come on, don't be shy. Come sit down."
"Don't worry, we won't hit you."
"Look at how timid you are. And you call yourselves the Five Ancestors of Literature?"
Seeing the five of them acting so cautiously, Chen Changan curled his lip in disdain.
Was it really necessary?
He'd only hit them a few times. Was it that scary?
"Tell me, how many years have you been dead? Why leave your wills here?"
"For the sake of passing on the literary tradition?"
"Or are you just reluctant to part with this glory?" Chen Changan asked curiously.
"Actually, we don't care about the empty title of Ancestor of Literature."
"But our great undertaking remains unfinished. How could we leave in peace?"
"We stayed here to wait for someone capable of completing an important task."
"Come to think of it, you aren't the first. It's just a pity..."
Not the first?
Hearing that, Chen Changan furrowed his brow. His first thought was that the first person to appear had probably been his father, the one who'd run away from home.
"Why was it a pity?" Chen Changan asked with a frown.
"That person was very careful and cautious. He had the same ability as you—to use his own will to make all of our wills appear at once."
"But he chose to awaken our wills one statue at a time."
"At the time, we thought he would awaken the wills of all five of us. But after awakening the third, he stopped."
By now, Chen Changan already knew. Sure enough, it had been his rather unreliable father.
So he'd become known as the Sage of Literature because that was all he wanted to be. Otherwise, he'd had the ability to earn the title of Ancestor of Literature back then, awakening the wills