How can one cultivate immortality without learning modern knowledge?

Chapter 128 Drunken Flower Gu, Tomb of Time

Although his literary insight surpassed the imagination of ordinary people, even when he was in a quiet room and tried his best, he could only see a small part of the Spirit Race.

Perhaps some magical artifact can be used.

Within his sea of ​​consciousness, a wisp of literary voice transmitted to Bodhi: "Little Butterfly, we are currently in the wondrous realm of the Spirit Clan. It truly is springtime, with butterflies dancing and flowers blooming. It's a perfect time for you to go out and stroll around—"

The Bodhi tree has opened.

The little butterflies fluttered up.

It appeared out of nowhere, crossing the barrier of the brain, and appeared in the garden outside without warning.

As it took flight, a rapidly moving image appeared in Zhou Wenju's mind.

To the naked eye, no one realized that this butterfly, which looked almost exactly like countless others in the garden, was equipped with a "camera." Everywhere it went, a clear image was formed in Zhou Wenju's mind.

It must be said that this is a detection marvel.

It could traverse countless secret and important locations within the Dingchao Division without hindrance.

The sacred land of the Spirit Race was even more undisturbed, for there were simply too many butterflies, they were too commonplace here.

As the butterfly traveled along, Zhou Wenju truly witnessed the wonders of the Spirit Race.

The Eldar who stand on the stage look no different from humans.

However, this is only the surface.

In fact, the Eldar are a large and diverse race.

Tiny winged spirits flit among the flowers like little birds.

There are enormous spirits, their bodies like ancient trees, and on the battlefield, they would be a terrifying force capable of sweeping away thousands of troops.

There are Eldar skilled in shapeshifting who can transform from human form to withered branch form right under his nose. If they are hiding in the jungle, they would be the best battlefield "spies".

Furthermore, a group of spirit race women were setting up some kind of array around a medicinal herb field; their footsteps resembled the most breathtaking dance.

..

All of this is merely scenery along the butterfly's journey.

The butterfly was very focused; it flew towards a strange, large tree.

At first glance, the tree appeared lush and verdant, with green branches and red flowers, much like any other large tree. However, upon closer inspection, Zhou Wenju was greatly surprised.

The flowers blooming on this tree are—

Red spider lily!

The red spider lily has a special meaning in Buddhism, as it grows between life and death, connecting the realms of the living and the dead.

Flowers bloom without leaves, leaves bloom without flowers; life after life, flowers and leaves never meet.

It is precisely because of the "tragic color" inherent in this creature that the red spider lily is often depicted by poets as a symbol of "unrequited love" after being separated by death.

However, this red spider lily is completely different from the legendary red spider lily.

No one has ever said that spider lilies can grow on a large, leafy tree!

Why is there such a spectacle?

Could this be the life-changing destiny of the Spirit Race?

While he was pondering, the butterfly flew onto the big tree and suddenly disappeared completely!

The image vanished from Zhou Wenju's mind!

Zhou Wenju's heart skipped a beat —

What happened?

Why do butterflies disappear?

This is no ordinary butterfly.

This is the catch he caught from the Dao Sea. This is also his monitoring artifact. It would be terrible to lose it like this!

His written communication lost its target.

His gaze clearly landed on the tree, which wasn't far from him, just a hilltop away.

The sun is setting.

It wasn't completely dark yet.

There was a gentle knock on the door, and a pretty maid entered, bringing dinner.

Zhou Wenju composed himself and ate dinner.

By the time the maid cleared away the dishes and left the room, it was already completely dark.

The green hills were shrouded in darkness.

But the nights of the Eldar are also exceptionally strange.

Countless trees in the mountains and fields emit a mesmerizing starlight.

Like a candle lit in the darkness, illuminating a small space.

Zhou Wenju flicked his finger, and the candle lit by the maid went out.

The room was completely dark.

To the average person, he appeared to be resting.

However, his eyes gleamed faintly in the darkness, and his clothes turned black.

The next moment, Zhou Wenju's figure flickered slightly and vanished silently from the room, merging into the night sky.

It veered through the air and appeared beneath the large tree.

He had only one thought in his mind.

No matter what, we have to find the little butterfly.

This is his magic weapon.

Furthermore, in such a complex and sensitive territory, he also had a hidden worry: if this little butterfly caused trouble, the consequences would be severe.

If other butterflies might cause trouble.

Nobody believes it.

But this butterfly was never truly obedient, and even now, Zhou Wenju still hasn't fully grasped its capabilities.

He chose to strike under the cover of night.

We have made thorough preparations.

It was assumed that no one could discover it —

However, he ultimately overlooked the flower on the windowsill—

"Holy Maiden, wasn't it said that he hadn't yet obtained the Heart of Literature? Why can he fly through the void?" In a wooden house, a girl in purple looked surprised.

"Interesting! A literary master of his generation is actually a cultivator of the Dao! To cultivate both literature and spiritual cultivation to such an extent is truly rare!" The Holy Maiden's eyes were also bright. Of course, she could see clearly that Zhou Wenju's flight through the void was not using the power of literature, but rather a cultivation skill.

The girl's face was full of excitement.

There was something she wanted to say, but she didn't dare to—

She thought to herself, such an extraordinary human man must be the dream of every Elven woman.

Elven women admire the elegance and refinement of human scholars, but behind every instance of admiration lies a trap set by time.

As time passed, the human scholars aged rapidly, soon becoming physically weak and unable to keep up with their efforts, allowing the spirit women to enjoy a short twenty years of worldly pleasures before facing endless widowhood.

But this person is different.

He excelled in both literature and martial arts; on the one hand, he was an unparalleled literary figure, and on the other hand, he was remarkably physically robust.

This excitement was quickly replaced by another kind of doubt: "Saintess, what is he doing at the 'Tomb of Time'?"

"It's really strange. The Time Tomb is theoretically unknown to the outside world, so why would he come here?" The saintess exhaled softly.

Zhou Wenju stood beneath the strange tree, his figure completely hidden in its shadow. He carefully controlled his literary energy, transmitting his voice within a small area: "Where are you?"

He arrived at the place where the little butterfly had disappeared.

However, they still couldn't find the little butterfly.

This little butterfly has absolutely no special aura, which is its biggest trump card, because without any aura, no one can notice it.

But now it has become Zhou Wenju's biggest constraint.

Because the little butterfly was so good at hiding its energy, even its owner couldn't find it.

Only a faint connection within his consciousness told him that the little butterfly must be in this area and had not gone far.

The transmission of literary and moral messages is like a gentle rain, nourishing this region.

A tendril from the other shore suddenly drifted down and landed on Zhou Wenju's head.

This fall!

Zhou Wenju suddenly felt a light rain falling on Mount Wen, and his mind was filled with a hazy mist.

He was greatly alarmed, and vaguely sensed that something was wrong.

However, for a moment, he didn't know what had happened; his mind seemed to be a complete mess.

This is something that has never happened before.

Since acquiring the Root of Literature in this world, his brain has been operating in an extraordinary way every moment. All the knowledge in his memory has been constantly reinforced, but at this moment, his brain feels drunk and confused.

wrong!

Danger!

A sense of urgency quickly rose in his mind.

He is famous throughout the world because of his clear mind and his ability to extract, connect, and evolve knowledge from every angle.

If his mind is not clear, what can he do?

They mess everything up.

Could it be poisoning?

Is this the Eldar's plan against him?

As soon as this thought arose, Zhou Wenju's consciousness suddenly tightened, and he forcibly restrained his mind. It must be said that his literary quality was extremely high, and his writing was extremely stable.

He vaguely sensed the enemy within his mind.

It's a fog.

Extremely strange and stubborn, it rapidly penetrated his entire sea of ​​consciousness, leaving a hazy, dreamlike atmosphere wherever it went. Cold sweat broke out on his back and forehead.

For writers, the greatest fear is that their literary roots, literary circles, literary mountains, and literary hearts will be tarnished.

Once tarnished, a writer's talent plummets; what kind of poetry can they still compose? What kind of articles can they write?

Today, his reputation is more than just a shadow of his former self.

What's shrouded in this is fog, or even poisonous rain—

Inside the wooden house, the girl in purple stared at the spider lily stamen on Zhou Wenju's head, her expression suddenly changing: "Drunken Flower Gu? Elders—how could the elders do this?"

The saintess said softly, "This person's poetry skills are unparalleled. No matter how the Yan Kingdom plans and arranges, it will be difficult to win. Taking out the game with the highest probability of winning by the opponent in this way is not a bad way to deal with it."

These words heralded something terrible.

That's the Spirit Clan elder; he's already made his move.

They targeted Zhou Wenju.

Because Zhou Wenju's Heavenly Dao Qingci "Qingyu'an" put too much pressure on the other party.

There are indications that he has the highest win rate among all members of the Daewoo team.

The "Drunken Flower Gu" curse tarnished his reputation.

Outwardly, he appears perfectly normal, but in reality, he has already lost his chance to compete on the field.

This approach, which is discreet and avoids drawing attention, is the safest and most prudent method.

The girl in purple suddenly stood up: "Such methods are despicable and vile! Holy Maiden, this cannot be done! Absolutely not!"

The Holy Maiden sighed softly: "I promised Father I wouldn't make any arrangements. This matter wasn't my plan! There's no need for you to be so agitated!"

The maid in purple took a deep breath: "This servant naturally knows that it was not arranged by the Holy Maiden, and this servant also knows that with this servant's status, I cannot presume to comment on the elders. But Holy Maiden, you are known as the 'Spirit Clan's Dao Flower,' can you really bear to see such despicable methods being used in front of you?"

The saintess slowly raised her gaze: "In the affairs of the world, there is a distinction between the grand scheme and the minor details. For the sake of our clan's greater good, perhaps we shouldn't concern ourselves too much with trivial matters?"

Sweat beaded on Zhou Wenju's back as a battle of offense and defense unfolded within his mind.

He retained his last vestiges of consciousness. Above his mountain of writing, dark clouds pressed down, layer upon layer, and the "enemy" finally revealed itself. In an instant, he was plunged into the most terrifying hunt—

Just as his consciousness was about to slip away.

A butterfly suddenly appeared from somewhere —

He plunged headlong into his sea of ​​consciousness.

The butterfly opened its mouth and inhaled!

The terrifying fog surrounding Wenshan turned into a line and was completely sucked into the butterfly's mouth.

Zhou Wenju's mind suddenly cleared, and he stared blankly at the returning butterfly—

The spider lily stamen on his head suddenly withered.

The next moment, it turned into a wisp of smoke and disappeared.

Inside the wooden hut, the saintess's eyes widened suddenly: "It's done!"

"It's undoed?" The girl in purple suddenly stood up. "Did the elder finally realize it wouldn't work and take action to undo it?"

"No! He solved it himself! How—how is that possible?"

The girl in purple said, "The Drunken Flower Gu is one of the ten most wondrous Gu in the world. Those afflicted are unaware, and those who observe it are oblivious. Apart from our clan's secret techniques, there is no way to cure it. Logically speaking, he shouldn't even be able to detect it, so how could he possibly cure it?"

"Yes—it's getting more and more outrageous—" The saintess's eyes flickered, unable to respond.

She couldn't resolve the girl's doubts either.

Zhou Wenju stared blankly at the tree in front of him, when suddenly his legs gave way and he collapsed.

This is terrible!

His figure disappeared from the sight of the two people in the wooden house.

The girl in purple's expression changed again: "He fell into the Tomb of Time!"

"These are the characteristics of someone after the Drunken Flower Gu is cured. The Gu is removed, consciousness is drained, and they fall into the Tomb of Time—this was probably not the elders' arrangement, but it is a perfect aftermath of a failed plan!" The Holy Maiden smiled gently: "From this, it seems that Heaven is also on our side!"

The girl in purple was deathly pale.

She is still young.

She is still innocent.

She couldn't accept that a normal literary gathering would involve so many twists and turns.

But what could she do?

This extraordinary genius, who penned timeless verses, though he unravels the "Drunken Flower Gu" in an inconceivable way, is ultimately destined by fate to be unable to participate in the Green Mountain Literary Gathering.

This was not arranged by the elders!

This is God's arrangement!

Let's talk about Zhou Wenju.

I felt like my brain just went blank for a moment, and I stumbled.

After he regained his footing, his heart pounded.

He was in a cave.

The cave was dark and the surroundings looked ordinary. There was a sliver of light in front of him. He took several dozen steps forward, turned a corner, and came to a platform.

On the platform, a figure sat cross-legged.

Under Wen Dao's discerning eye, the old man's physical outline could be clearly seen even in the dimly lit cave.

This was an old man with gray hair and a thin figure, dressed in blue, who remained motionless. If Zhou Wenju hadn't seen that the old man's eyes were open, he would have thought he was dead.

Those eyes slowly moved closer: "You're not from the Spirit Race!"

Zhou Wenju bowed: "Greetings, senior! I am indeed not a member of the Spirit Clan, and it seems that you are not either."

"That's true! Why would someone from the Spirit Race come to the Tomb of Time?" The old man nodded gently. "Where do you come from?"

"The Great Yu Kingdom!"

"Da Yu?" A glimmer of light suddenly appeared in the old man's eyes. "What brings you here?"

"I was attending the Qingshan Literary Gathering when I accidentally stumbled and ended up in front of you, senior. I don't know why. If I have offended you, it was not my intention."

"The Green Mountain Literary Gathering?" The old man frowned. "Is this the literary gathering that the Spirit Clan has been discussing lately, regarding whether to adopt a southward or northward strategy?"

Zhou Wenju asked, "Does Senior know about what's happening outside?"

"Sitting in the cave, one can observe the world through a drop of water!" The old man gently pointed: "Look!"

He pointed to the cave wall in front of him.

Zhou Wenju saw it —

A dewdrop about to fall.