The Spring Examination, held once every three years, was actually a blank paper!
No words meant no question.
No question meant anything could be the question.
Nothing was forbidden to write!
Nothing was forbidden to say!
Yet it also meant nothing could be written, nothing could be said.
What exactly did the sage mean by setting this question...?
The candidates taking the Spring Examination looked around blankly from their partitioned examination cells, racking their brains.
Su Mo silently studied the blank paper before him, then suddenly laughed...
His laughter was a little unhinged.
What do you want to see beneath our pens?
And what can you see beneath our pens?
I dare to write it. Do you dare to read it?
Su Mo lifted his brush and soaked it in ink. Gazing at the pristine paper, he murmured, "If your thoughts are the same as mine, then I shall write it for you."
Poetry?
But I no longer want to write poetry...
Su Mo swept his brush, scattering ink and leaving words in its wake:
This spring, I journeyed north to sit the examination. Passing the Bian River, I saw a Peach Mountain.
Spring came early to the Bian River, its rain soft as cotton.
Peach blossoms bloom in March, yet I saw them in February.
Delighted, I entered the mountain to wander its scenery.
Peach blossoms reddened withered branches; beauty covered the mountain.
I walked deep among the peaches, as though transported to an immortal realm.
At last, I saw Peach Sage, playing chess alone.
Delighted, I played against him.
Peach Sage was highly skilled; I was no match for him.
I sought his art. He said: the chessboard is like Peach Mountain. All who enter the game become pieces, and I stand above every piece.
Suddenly, I heard a tiger roar.
I asked: are there tigers among the peaches? (Are there tigers on Peach Mountain?)
The old man said: they cannot all be driven away.
I asked again: what is the solution?
The old man smiled and said: to share a couch with tigers, first become their king.
By morning, I roamed Peach Mountain; by night, I departed the Bian River.
I saw Peach Sage transform into a tiger.
I saw Peach Mountain at peace...
Under the dumbfounded gazes of several examiners, Su Mo handed in his paper and left the examination grounds.
Only half an hour had passed since the bell rang to begin the examination...
Su Mo stopped thinking about the examination. Instead, he sat down at a tea stall outside the examination grounds, ordered a pot of tea, and lowered his head without a word.
His gaze never left the entrance for a moment.
He was waiting for someone to come out.
He needed to know who that person was...
That familiar aura had appeared within the examination grounds.
It was the aura of that Blood Pill!
Someone had consumed that Blood Pill, and its aura had not yet fully dispersed.
Su Mo's entanglement with that Blood Pill ran far too deep... deep enough to be carved into his marrow.
He could smell the blood carried within that Blood Pill.
He could smell the aura of the woman who had held a swaddled infant...
He could smell the old man's aura...
He could smell the swordsman's aura...
He could smell the butcher's aura...
He could smell little Tongtong's aura...
He could smell the auras of all those wronged souls who had died wretchedly beneath the courtyard in West City...
Those familiar auras stirred his unbearably painful memories of that night.
That Blood Pill had been forcibly refined at the cost of the lives of so many pitiful people, from all walks of life.
All because someone wanted to enter the Dao?
That night...
The woman had said, "Why are you so foolish? What does any of this have to do with you?"
That night...
Little Tongtong had said, "Big brother, Tongtong wants to go home..."
That night... that night...
The images of those departed souls surfaced in Su Mo's mind, one after another...
Wails of defiance and helplessness rang through Su Mo's soul, instantly stirring towering waves within his Spirit Sea.
The stars within his Spirit Sea flickered restlessly.
It was as though his entire Spirit Sea had come alive in an instant.
An alluring phantom was startled awake within Su Mo's Spirit Sea. Looking at its surging waves, she clicked her tongue inwardly.
Is this... a fight brewing?
Su Mo's expression remained calm as he waited for his tea.
In the chill of early spring, wisps of white steam still rose from the teapot when it reached the table.
The white-haired old stallkeeper humbly brought the pot of freshly brewed tea before Su Mo. The sight of Su Mo's exquisite white brocade robes only made him more nervous.
His humble manner was painful to behold.
The old stallkeeper did not understand why this seemingly noble young master had come to drink at his tea stall. Surely he ought to have gone to an elegant teahouse.
Unable to understand, he became all the more cautious, afraid that the slightest misstep would offend the young master.
He feared Su Mo had come to stir up trouble for amusement, like those petty officials or young masters from officials' families.
His youthful face expressionless, Su Mo offered the silver, but the white-haired old stallkeeper was too frightened to accept it.
"You honor this old man by coming here for tea, young master... how could I take your money..." the old stallkeeper said anxiously, bowing his aged, stiff body.
Su Mo paused, but the sight of the old stallkeeper quickly made him understand... he had been bullied into terror!
With a sigh, Su Mo pressed the silver into the old stallkeeper's withered hand without a word.
He could not help everyone... could not right every injustice.
Some people merely lived cautiously, while others had even their right to live taken away...
Su Mo lifted the teapot and poured himself a cup.
The tea at a little roadside stall was indeed considerably worse than that served in a teahouse. A trace of bitterness lingered amid its sweetness.
There was a fragrance to it, naturally, but it was much fainter.
Roadside tea was not meant to be savored. Those who savored tea naturally went to teahouses.
Perhaps the greatest purpose of a roadside tea stall was simply to give weary travelers somewhere to rest their feet and moisten their throats.
Su Mo stared fixedly at the entrance to the examination grounds, his mind occupied. Apart from a sip when it first arrived, he never touched the tea in his hand again.
It was not that he could not stomach it. It simply seemed tasteless.
When the heart had lost its taste, even jade nectar would likely be impossible to swallow.
Su Mo sat like an old monk deep in meditation... and remained there for an entire day.
The sky darkened, and the tea in the pot had long since gone cold...
Su Mo had given him a great deal of silver, and the old stallkeeper had replaced his tea several times. But seeing that Su Mo never touched it again, he stopped replacing it.
Perhaps this young master has troubles of his own... Watching Su Mo sit motionless all day, the old stallkeeper kept his aged body humbly bowed, shook his head slightly, and sighed.
The sky grew dim as the sun sank westward, its last lingering rays staining the clouds a dusky crimson.
At last, candidates began emerging from the examination grounds. None had handed in their papers after writing only a few sparse words, as Su Mo had.
Ten years studying by a cold window, all for this one metropolitan examination-the turning point of their lives lay in this day.
Who but Su Mo would finish so perfunctorily?
The crowd streamed out, and that aura appeared!
Su Mo saw the man clearly...
The man had a rosy complexion and was brimming with vigor. An irrepressible smile hung on his face; he seemed to be in excellent spirits.
The man passed Su Mo's tea stall and climbed into a carriage, which set off toward the east of the city.
Su Mo rose, set down the teacup he had held all day, and followed the carriage from a distance.
Darkness fell especially swiftly after sunset. By the time the carriage stopped outside a walled mansion, the sky was completely black. Only the faint candlelight in the lanterns hanging overhead illuminated the place.
Watching the man enter the official residence, Su Mo silently turned and walked into the night toward the Riverboat Pavilion...
Su Mo recognized the man whose body still carried the lingering aura of the Blood Pill!
He also recognized the overbearing words "Liu Residence" on the plaque above its entrance.
And that man was none other than the lunatic who had targeted him at every turn when he was selling paintings outside the Riverboat Pavilion that day-Liu Feng!
In the darkness, an unreadable light flickered in Su Mo's eyes.
The Minister of War's son?
How dare you?
That woman had once said: entangle yourself with ghosts, and the karmic ties run too deep-you will meet no good end!
Su Mo could feel the weight of those words. There seemed to be strange rules at work in the unseen workings of this world. He could sense something eerily amiss in his own cultivation.
He simply did not understand cultivation; he was not stupid.
The eerie aura emanating from his body seemed to originate from some shadowy, unknowable place.
He had not shown it, but he dared not ignore it.
He was afraid-afraid that this eerie aura would draw in something strange and one day implicate those around him, especially the little girl.
The little girl was Su Mo's only attachment and bond in this world.
What happened to him did not matter, but he could not expose the little girl to any risk.
I am only a passerby...
Then... let me avenge you, and bring this karmic entanglement to an end!
Before you continue