After walking out of the Block Gui that was pickled by the powdery odor, the air quality in the corridor dropped off a cliff. The moist water vapor was forcibly drained by some force, and was replaced by an extremely dry smell that was mixed with the mildew of old paper and inferior pine smoke ink.
This smell is not pungent, but it is like fine dust, penetrating into the nose and pores, making people's throats itchy, but unable to cough out. The stone pavement underfoot has become extremely smooth, no longer mossy and slippery as before, replaced by a thick layer of dust. Every time you step on it, fine smoke and dust will rise up, swirling and dancing under the dim lights.
Fang Mo stopped and shook his sleeves.
A few dried pieces of Black Lotus Petals fell from the cuffs and shattered into powder the moment they hit the ground. He sheathed the Spring Embroidered Saber with his backhand, and the sword hit the scabbard, making a crisp "click" sound. The sound echoed in the long and narrow corridor, which was actually a bit hollow.
Iron Bull followed behind, and the giant hammer that he always carried on his shoulders was now dragged in his hand. The hammer head drew a shallow mark on the ground. Regardless of whether this person faced Gods and Devils or He was a man who even dared to bare his teeth when being cruel, but at this moment he looked embarrassed and uneasy. His broad and honest face was Five Senses wrinkled, and his nose was twitching frequently, as if there was something more terrifying than poison hidden in the air.
"I'm so depressed."
Iron Bull raised his hand and scratched his scalp, making a rustling sound as his nails scratched his scalp, and said angrily, "The head here seems to be lifeless."
"This is Block Xin, the grave of scholars."
Old Yan answered the conversation from the side, and the Pipe Bowl in his hand, which never left his body, had long been extinguished. He inserted the cigarette rod back into his waist, put his hands in the sleeves of his sheepskin jacket, and showed a rare fear in his cloudy old eyes.
"Great Qian In the one hundred and seventy years since the founding of the country, Imperial Court Qingliu who lost the battle, the censor who offended the powerful, and those sour scholars who thought they had the truth but couldn't see the situation clearly all ended up filling this hole." Old Yan's voice was very low, with mockery and a bit of sadness as if a rabbit had died. "These people have brittle bones and cannot withstand severe torture, but the sour and rotten smell coming from the bone marrow is the most smoky. Even if they are dead and rotting in the mud, their mouths will still be hard."
Ahead, the darkness recedes.
Two ever-burning lamps were solitary embedded on both sides of the stone wall. Lamp Oil was turbid, and the flames were only the size of peas, exuding a pale green halo. At the end of the lights, stood a Bronze Gate that was more than three feet high.
On the door leaf, there is no ferocious animal head like the usual Prison or Runes prohibition, it is a bare green gray. Only in the middle of the door lintel are four large characters with iron paintings and silver hooks engraved:
[Reflect on Your Mistakes]
The handwriting is vigorous, and every stroke is like Ruler being slapped hard on the heart, with an undoubted disciplinary meaning.
Fang Mo stopped in front of the door, and the left ear originating from Bone Devouring Sound God King trembled slightly.
Silence.
Deathly silence.
Unlike Block A's roar, Block B's noise, and Block Gui's exuberance, this Block Xin was so quiet that you couldn't even hear breathing. But under this silence, Fang Mo heard an extremely regular and dull vibration.
Buzz--buzz--buzz--
It was the heartbeats of hundreds of people at the same frequency, and the low hum of a certain idea resonating at a high frequency in the air.
"Open the door." Fang Mo said indifferently.
The jailer guarding the door was a stooped old man, wearing a white washed Confucian Robe. He did not hold a knife or gun in his hand, but instead held a scroll. Seeing Fang Mo and these Calamity Star, he did not panic and just slowly took out the key from his arms.
"Lord Fang, Block Xin In this important place, noise, violence, and blood are prohibited." The old jailer's eyelids drooped and his voice was dry, "These are the rules set by the adults. If you break the rules, you will be punished."
"Adults?" The corner of Fang Mo's mouth raised a playful arc, "I am this Heavenly Prison's General Commissioner, where did the other adults come from?"
The old jailer didn't answer, he just pushed Bronze Gate away a crack.
Boom!
The moment the door crack opens, a huge, upright but extremely depressing wave of air hits your face. This is not True Qi, but a kind of crushing on the spiritual level. It is as if there are countless sages standing in the clouds, pointing at your nose and reprimanding your crimes, making you feel ashamed and wishing you could kneel down and repent on the spot.
Iron Bull's body swayed, his knees felt a little weak, and Crimson's face instantly turned the color of pig's liver. He felt that the hammer in his hand became hot, as if killing someone was the biggest Sins in the world.
Old Yan even snorted, and a hint of Black Blood escaped from the corner of his mouth. A veteran like him who walks in the gray area is most afraid of this so-called "Righteous Qi".
Only Fang Mo.
He stood in the middle of the air waves, his clothes rustling, his hair dancing wildly, but his eyes were completely black.
The Five Viscera Divine Treasures in his body roared together, and Prison Suppressor Phantom flashed away behind him. The moment the arrogant Righteous Qi Wave touched the breath of Prison Suppressor, it seemed as if it had encountered a natural enemy, and it parted to both sides in horror.
"Righteous Qi?" Fang Mo stepped over the threshold and stepped hard on the floor covered with square tiles, "It's just the resentment of a group of losers."
There is a unique cave inside Block Xin.
There are no iron fences or Torture Instrument here. Instead, there are rows of neat bookshelves that stretch to the end of the line of sight. Hundreds of prisoners wearing prison uniforms but wearing kerchiefs are sitting cross-legged in the open space between the bookshelves.
There is a desk in front of each of them, with pens, inks, paper and inkstones on it. Everyone is doing the same action - grinding, picking up pens, and writing.
The movements are uniform, and even the breathing frequency is exactly the same.
"The Master said: To restrain oneself and restore propriety, the world will return to benevolence..."
I don't know who started, and hundreds of people read in unison. The sound was not loud, but it gathered into a substantial sound wave that made the surrounding bookshelves tremble.
In the sound of this recitation, the air became as thick as mercury. Fang Mo could clearly feel that the operation of True Qi in his body had become stagnant, and even his murderous intention was weakened by this "enlightenment" force.
"It's interesting." Fang Mo looked around.
In the center of this sea of books, there is a high platform made of stacked books. Sitting on the platform is an old man with white hair and beard. He is not writing, but is concentrating with his eyes closed. He is holding a bare Ruler in his hand. The aura exuding from his body is actually integrated with the Righteous Qi Formation that is connected together.
This is the "backbone" of Block Xin.
Fang Mo Open Netherworld Ghost Eye. His eyes peeled away from the surface, and what he saw was not some sage scroll, but thick bone spurs with a pale white luster.
Wherever these prisoners are writing, they are clearly using their own Essence, Qi, and Spirit to support the huge one deep underground that runs through the entire Block Xin...Spine.
That's the backbone of God King.
And these so-called Confucian scholars and sages are the Bone Piercing Nail nailed to this spine. They use their "obsession" and "rules" to nail this God King Spine Bone who is trying to turn over to the spot.
"Pull that old man down." Fang Mo pointed at the old man on Book Mountain, "I don't like people sitting higher than me."