Reencountering Senior White Two

Even with his current powerful memory, he only remembered less than a third of the <Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode>.

Five minutes later, he'll fail again—and he wonders if Su Wenqu, the "Blade-Wielding Scholar" at the next table, still has his answer sheet.

What will Su Wenqu do if his exam answers are no longer available?

Will we forever cycle through this space?

Horrible!

At this moment, the authoritative voice rang out again: [Recite the entire "Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode" from memory. Time: Five minutes.]

Meanwhile, a blank sheet of paper appeared on Song Shuhang's desk. The old test paper was folded and moved to the corner of the desk so that it wouldn't prevent him from rewriting it from memory.

--If he cannot recite the "Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode" from memory, he will be locked up in a dark room indefinitely.

Song Shuhang had no choice but to pick up his pen again and recite the "Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode" from memory. This time, picking up the pen was like drawing a picture, as he drew down one-third of the ancient text of the "Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode" from his mind.

More than three minutes had passed after I finished drawing.

Song Shuhang was even more troubled—these ancient texts were very complicated to draw, and at this speed, even if he memorized the entire text, it would still take him about nine minutes to draw it.

This is absolutely hellish!

At this point, is it possible to ask for outside help?

Song Shuhang subconsciously reached into his pocket, wanting to take out his phone or his Thousand-Mile Voice Transmission communication device. But when he reached into his pocket, he found that his 'Inch-Shrinking Bag' was gone.

There wasn't Inch-Shrinking Bag... So, it means I didn't enter this strange space physically, but rather my consciousness was pulled into it? Song Shuhang pondered to himself.

Soon, the five minutes were over.

The wall beside them crashed down again with a loud rumble.

As soon as the wall disappeared, Song Shuhang couldn't wait to look to the side—great! The surrounding tables, chairs, and the "Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode" that Su Wenqu had copied from memory were still there.

Song Shuhang immediately focused on Su Wenqu's test paper and frantically tried to memorize it.

At the same time, that authoritative voice rang in his ears again. "Those who have finished the dictation may leave this space and receive the Third-Grade Confucian Treasure, the 'Fengshan Brush.' Those who have not succeeded in the dictation will have to start again after twenty breaths, with a time limit of five minutes."

Twenty breaths later...

With a thunderous roar, the wall rose up once more!

On Song Shuhang's desk, another sheet of white paper appeared, the old sheet of white paper being folded and moved again.

Song Shuhang tried to reach out and grab the folded test strips, but a layer of force blocked Shuhang access.

"Damn it, if only the original test paper hadn't been folded." Song Shuhang sighed. That way, at least he could copy the contents of the original test paper, which would be faster than memorizing it.

Time ticked by, second by second.

Five minutes later, the wall collapsed again with a loud rumble.

Song Shuhang hurriedly shifted his gaze to Su Wenqu's manuscript paper and desperately tried to memorize the "Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode" on it again—this time, Song Shuhang finally memorized the entire text!

Even though he couldn't understand the meaning of these ancient characters, he managed to memorize the entire "Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode" using only his memory, as if he were memorizing a pattern.

Moreover, having practiced drawing before, he is now drawing 'ancient script' at an increasingly faster speed.

This time, I absolutely, positively must pass the exam!

Song Shuhang thought to himself.

Twenty breaths later...

The walls rose up again with a rumbling sound.

This time, Song Shuhang picked up a brush, dipped it in ink, and as soon as the white paper was ready, Song Shuhang quickly began to paint on it.

He thus wrote out the entire "Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode" from memory, or rather, drew it from memory.

Four minutes and forty-two seconds.

Song Shuhang finally finished drawing the last ancient rune.

"Mission accomplished! I passed this damned Infinite Retake Exam mode!" Song Shuhang put down his brush and laughed heartily.

Next, he just had to wait for the exam to end so he could leave this space.

And you'll also receive a Third-Grade 'Confucian Treasure' Fengshan Brush. Congratulations!

Five minutes later, the wall descended again.

The authoritative voice rang in his ears again. "Those who have finished the dictation may leave this space and receive the Third-Grade Confucian Treasure, the 'Fengshan Brush.' Those who have not succeeded in the dictation will have to start again after twenty breaths, with a time limit of five minutes."

"I want to leave this space!" Song Shuhang replied quickly.

However, an awkward thing happened—he wasn't sent out of that space.

"I've finished the dictation, hurry up and send me out," Song Shuhang said again.

However, the authoritative voice did not reply.

The entire space was quiet, with only Song Shuhang's breathing.

Song Shuhang: "..."

What the hell is going on? Did I not finish the dictation? He quickly glanced at Su Wenqu's 'exam paper' next to him.

Nothing was missed!

He copied every single classical Chinese text on it, exactly as it appeared on Su Wenqu's exam paper.

Could it be that... while reciting the "Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode," one must also silently recite its meaning? But Su Wenqu's 'exam paper' doesn't have a built-in translation function, and Song Shuhang says he can't understand it!

What to do?

Am I going to have to take all sorts of new exams, until I die?

Twenty breaths later...

The merciless wall rose cruelly once more, isolating Song Shuhang from everything around him.

A new test strip appeared in front of Song Shuhang. The old test strip was folded up and moved to the corner of the table.

"I don't want to take the test anymore! Let me out!" Song Shuhang stood up, grabbed the table, and forcefully flipped it over—he wanted to see how the space would react if he did.

But when Song Shuhang tried to lift it, he found that the table was too heavy and he couldn't lift it at all.

That's awkward.

What do we do now?

At this point, he was unable to contact the outside world. Even though he had finished reciting the "Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode," he was still unable to escape from this space.

Is he really going to be trapped in this space forever?

"Or perhaps, did I make a mistake while writing it?" Song Shuhang pondered, stroking his chin.

Wait five minutes, then he carefully examined Su Wenqu's 'exam paper' again, comparing it closely with the image of the <Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode> in his mind, to see if he had misremembered any strokes.

As Song Shuhang pondered what parts he might have misremembered, a black flying sword pierced through the void and squeezed directly above him.

This time, however, the black flying sword did not release black energy to devour the entire 'space'.

The black flying sword simply hovered silently in front of Song Shuhang.

"Senior White!" Song Shuhang exclaimed in surprise—this was another 'Senior White,' equally charming, and often appeared in his dreams.

Although we don't know the background of this [Senior White], it's certain that he is a very powerful being. For ease of distinction, we can call him [Senior White Two].

Furthermore, from the moment this Senior White emerged, Song Shuhang was once again certain that he was not entering this infinite testing space physically, but rather his consciousness had been pulled in.

The black flying sword spun around and transformed into Senior White, dressed in black.

He was wearing black pajamas today, which completely covered him, leaving only his handsome face visible. [Senior White Two] Was he sleeping?

The black-clad Senior White opened his eyes and looked at Song Shuhang: "..."

"Hi, Senior White, we meet again." Song Shuhang waved.

Senior White Two raised an eyebrow. "What strange dream have you been dragged into this time?"

"This isn't a dream; I've been caught up in this strange testing space," Song Shuhang replied. "This testing space requires me to recite the classical Chinese version of the 'Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode' within five minutes. If I can't, they won't let me out. I've already recited it several times already."

Senior White Two chuckled, "An interesting space."

"This is not fun at all, Senior White. You can't even flip a table in this space. What's worse, I've already finished writing the <Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode> completely, but this space still won't let me out. I'm starting to suspect that there's a bug in it!" Song Shuhang said through gritted teeth.

Senior White Two looked into the distance, his gaze seemingly piercing through the walls, directly seeing the statue of the Daozi, one of the 'Thirteen Tribulation Immortals Under the Sage'.

Upon seeing the statue of Daozi, Senior White Two let out a soft sigh.

At this moment, Song Shuhang pleaded, "Senior White, could you lend me a hand and help me see where there are any mistakes in my 'Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode'?"

Senior White Two chuckled and said, "Why should I help you?"

Song Shuhang: "..."

This Senior White Two is definitely still holding a grudge—because last time, he didn't reveal the information about 'Venerable White' to him, so Senior White Two is holding a grudge!

At this point, it's time to unleash the ultimate weapon.

Song Shuhang's lips curled up. There were many ways to get out of this space. Besides completing the task of writing the correct "Sage's Self-Cultivation Ode" within five minutes, he could also be thrown out of the space by some other powerful force.

And the way to annoy this 'Senior White Two' couldn't be simpler!

Whether it's the real-life Senior White or the Senior White Two in the dream, just uttering that classic line is enough.

So, Song Shuhang couldn't wait to call out, "Little White, when your hair grows long..."

"Shut up," Senior White Two said softly.

The next moment, Song Shuhang found that he couldn't open his mouth—he had been muted.

It was expected, it's okay. He had already considered the possibility of being banned.

He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and began to write on it—'Little White, when your hair reaches your waist...'

As he wrote this, Song Shuhang cautiously glanced up at this Senior White Two. Because if he continued writing and got to the words "Will you marry me?", he would be digging his own grave.

It would be best if I stopped writing here, Senior White Two couldn't resist throwing him out of this strange space.