Maximum Comprehension: Taking Care of Swords In A Sword Pavilion

As for the Eastern Sea, the trade route had just been opened up, and they still had to rely on the Jin Family Trading Company.

Han Muye returned to the third floor of the Sword Pavilion and took out the books.

Although these ancient books were not the only copies left, many of them had been lost outside. Only the royal family had them.

Many of them were the biographies and knowledge of ancient scholars.

Han Muye was reading books on the third floor of the Sword Pavilion while carefully annotating.

There was a faint Great Spirit flowing around his body.

For most cultivation practitioners of Confucianism, this was the way to increase the Great Spirit.

Every word was cultivation.

Han Muye read very quickly. When he felt something, he would add a comment or two.

‘Is there really such a legend in the world? After listening to your words, I’ll hang myself on the southeast branch.’

‘It’s so beautiful. The sun rises in the east and it rains in the west. It’s not sunny but sunny.’

‘Pedantic Confucian.’

‘In a moment like this, I’ll compose a poem.’

‘F*ck.’

…

The exchange of words was like this.

Han Muye seemed to be wandering in the river of time, sitting opposite the ancient scholars.

Some recited poems and composed poems, while others laughed and flipped tables.

Such cultivation was really fast.

When he reached out to touch the wooden box, he was slightly stunned.

The wooden box was already empty.

Shaking his head regretfully, he put the books back into the wooden box.

He could feel that reading these books not only increased the accumulation of Confucianism’s Great Spirit, but also increased his comprehension of the Dao of Heaven.

The Dao was indeed boundless.

After sealing the wooden box, Han Muye spread out the paper and picked up the ink brush.

He wanted to reply to Dongfang Shu.

‘After traveling tens of thousands of miles and reading tens of thousands of books, I finally understood that my knowledge from reading is shallow. I know that I have to personally undertake this.’

Han Muye stopped writing and focused.

‘The scholars of ancient times must have a teacher. A teacher, therefore, imparts the teachings and learns to solve doubts. People are not born to know, so who can be without doubts? If one is puzzled but does not follow a teacher, one will be confused. In the end, one will not be able to understand.’

‘That’s why there’s no nobility, no lowliness, no longevity, and no lack. Where the Dao exists, so does the master.’

As the words fell, thunder rumbled in the void.

At this moment, countless figures of Dao seekers appeared in Han Muye’s mind.

Scholar, Swordsman, Daoist, Demon Cultivator, Great Demon.

‘There’s no right or wrong in the world. There’s good and evil in the Dao.’

‘Who is able to determine the righteous path and the evil path?’

‘Who will guide the Great Dao?’