The term "guài lì luàn shén" (怪力乱神) has often been misunderstood. The character "怪" (guài) implies blame, suspicion, or fear. In Huainanzi - Shuo Lin Xun, it is written: "The wise do not suspect." The commentary explains: "Guài means to be confused."
The character "力" (lì) in this phrase refers not to brute courage or violence, but to strength, effort, or capability. This interpretation appears frequently in the Analects. For example, in Xian Wen: "The Master said, 'Duke Huan brought the lords together nine times without using war chariots. It was due to Guan Zhong's strength (lì).'" And also, "The steed is not judged by its strength, but by its virtue."
"乱" (luàn) means chaos, disorder, or disturbance, as in Xunzi - Jie Bi: "Wine disrupts one's spirit (shén)."
And "神" (shén) refers not to deities but to consciousness or spirit, as seen in Xunzi - Tian Lun: "When form is complete, spirit arises." Or in Huainanzi - Yuan Dao Xun: "The ears and eyes are not missing, yet cannot respond. Why? Because the spirit has lost its guard." These all define "shén" as mental clarity rather than supernatural beings.
So, when Confucius said "子不语怪力乱神" ("The Master does not speak of guài lì luàn shén"), what he meant was: he refrains from speaking to avoid dissipating strength and disturbing one's spiritual focus.
However, over time, many scholars and even common folk interpreted the saying as: "Confucius did not speak of the strange, supernatural, or chaotic." Thus, the meaning shifted to imply that Confucians deny the existence of ghosts and spirits, seeing them as nonsense.
This is a misinterpretation, yet no one has offered a proper correction. The phrase has been passed through the ages, altering its meaning entirely.
But at this moment—the voice of a sage emerges from the people.
This singular phrase clearly represents the will of the common people: If the Master does not speak of the strange and supernatural, then these must be suppressed. The demons and spirits must be crushed. The filth of the world must be cleansed.
Of course, this refers specifically to the territory of Great Yi (大易). Outside its borders, this influence does not reach.
Such a sweeping transformation across Great Yi could not go unnoticed by Yi Tianxing, who couldn't help but feel a jolt of awe.
"Voice of the Sage" (圣贤之音) – A spiritual manifestation of righteous will capable of suppressing demons and evil spirits across a region.
He hadn't expected a Sage's Voice to arise at this moment, one that could suppress all demonic and ghostly entities within Great Yi. For the nation, this was a tremendous boon.
"Good, good! With the Voice of the Sage resonating, the demons within Great Yi should quiet down for a time—and many will be directly annihilated under this righteous force."
A trace of joy appeared on Yi Tianxing's face.
The power of the literary path ultimately originates from the world's righteous qi (浩然正气). A Sage's Voice can easily mobilize this qi, just like a great Confucian master shouting down a demon to death. This manifestation was no less than such a master and affected an even wider area. Nearly every monster and spirit suffered severe injury to some degree.
This gave Great Yi precious time. Every extra day would make the nation stronger. In time, Great Yi would undoubtedly gain the upper hand.
"I wonder who these talents are."
Yi Tianxing gazed into the void, eyes filled with eager anticipation.
Were these historical figures? It didn't matter to him. Whether or not they were famous in history, as long as they had talent, they were the ones he needed.
In truth, many individuals who should have become legendary figures were cut short—lacking either opportunity or resources. But under the nurturing of Great Yi, their potential could fully bloom.
In ancient times, many great generals were powerful not only due to innate talent but also because they had access to better nourishment and conditions. Take Zhang Fei, a butcher who ate meat daily and drank bone broth—his natural strength far surpassed the average peasant.
Most famed generals had similar privileged backgrounds. There's a reason for that.
You need both aptitude and resources to shape a true talent.
"How interesting. I want to see who these rising stars are. Zhuge Liang should be among them."
Cai Yong took a deep breath, his eyes full of anticipation.
He looked toward the exam rooms.
With a thought, his gaze focused on the name plates above the rooms.
"Hmm? Su Shi?"
He stopped at the first chamber to manifest a vision—clearly surprised.
Su Shi, courtesy name Zizhan, also known as Dongpo Jushi, was a prominent literary figure of the Northern Song Dynasty. His poetry and calligraphy were preserved in Great Yi's Scripture Pavilion.
But this Su Shi was still a young man.
Whether he had arrived in this world young, or had retained his old memories in a young body, it didn't matter. What was his—his poetry, his talent—could not be taken away.
Poems like "Prelude to the Water Melody" were already widespread among the people. But no one could remove Su Shi's name from them.
That talent was innately his.
If he received Confucian inheritance, his cultivation would soar. His works would naturally become sources of literary qi, fueling rapid advancement. This was one of the wonders of a merged multiverse.
Important Mechanism: Inherited Talent Accumulation – Past achievements directly convert into cultivation resources in the literary path.
This is especially true in the Confucian path, where one's past literary output feeds directly into cultivation and advancement, allowing for almost bug-like progression speeds.
"This is a true disciple of Confucianism."
Cai Yong instantly made his judgment. If someone like Su Shi couldn't become a pillar of Confucianism, it would be an injustice to Heaven.
"Bao Zheng? It's him! A divine-level investigator with unrivaled judgment! I didn't expect his written work to possess such power too."
He turned to another exam room and spotted the name Bao Zheng—clearly referring to the legendary magistrate known for his fairness and integrity.
Someone like him entering Great Yi would cleanse the nation's customs. The name Bao Qingtian wasn't just for show.
"Fang Zhongyong? A prodigy! Only twelve and already brave enough to enter the imperial exam. His talent must be extraordinary."
Cai Yong looked toward yet another room, which belonged to a mere boy of twelve—but his paper had evoked a strong literary phenomenon.
Time passed quietly.
Before long, an entire day had gone by.
DONG—DONG—DONG!!
Clear bell chimes rang above the Examination Courtyard.
"Attention all candidates: the literary examination is now concluded. Please stop writing immediately. Answer sheets will be collected shortly. Anyone violating this rule will be disqualified from all further exams."
This warning echoed from patrolling officers, repeated three times throughout the exam halls.
Though they had an entire day to write, many had finished early and were simply reviewing their papers. Upon hearing the order, they put their brushes down.
SWOOSH! SWOOSH!
A mysterious force swept across the exam halls.
Sheets of paper rose into the air one by one, flying through space to form a thick stack that hovered mid-air before being whisked away toward Qingyun Tower.
"All examinees, please leave the hall. The next section of the examination will begin tomorrow morning. Return to your chambers by then."
Candidates filed out one by one.
Though they'd spent a full day inside the exam halls, it meant nothing for cultivators—gone were the days when examinees would exit pale-faced and fall ill for days.
"That's only one of ten disciplines. This was the Literary Path. How will they test the other nine? Also with written answers?"
Zhuge Liang frowned. The others clearly required practical assessment—paper tests wouldn't suffice.
"With the King's wisdom, I'm sure he wouldn't allow such superficial testing. There must be some other arrangement."
Bao Zheng looked to the sky with conviction. Still, he was curious how these subjects would be tested—it would impact their future directly.
Many candidates shared these same thoughts and felt anticipation for the next day.
Inside Qingyun Tower, the massive stack of answer sheets had already been laid before Cai Yong and his team.
"Let the grading begin!!"
Cai Yong raised his hand, revealing a glowing, green measuring ruler with scriptures and sage quotes flickering along its surface. Gentle chanting echoed from it.
This was his life-bound treasure, known as the Ruler of True Heart (证心尺)—a powerful Confucian artifact.
"Ruler of True Heart" (证心尺) – A Confucian treasure that judges literary merit by drawing out the qi of talent from exam scripts.
In Confucian tradition, the ruler represents both instruction and discipline.
"With the Ruler of True Heart suppressing these papers, it will draw out their inner qi and divide them into ten grades. One chi (尺) of literary qi equals one point. Two chi, two points, and so on. Nine chi equals nine points."
Cai Yong declared.