4. **Title Binding:** The punished person will receive the title of "Eternal Word Mush" (soul bound, visible in reincarnation, comes with saliva-stained virtual glasses).**
**[Effective immediately! Covering all heavens! Tracing cause and effect! Enforced!]**
**[Appendix: The first candidate for 'Eternal Word Huhu': Chief Scripture Master (Compiler of the True Scripture) of the Four Countries.]**
"Eternal…School Water Sutra?"
"The handwriting is distorted?"
"Refresh every second?"
“No standard answer?”
"The words are blurry?"
"Drool glasses?"
Imagine the eternal, hopeless struggle to decipher the endless, blurred, and distorted slobbery writing. All those involved in compiling and disseminating the scriptures felt dizzy, as if they had already entered an indescribable chaotic hell of words! This punishment... is a pinpoint sniper attack on all those who attempt to peddle spiritual beliefs! The combined mental and visual torture is so intense that even smelling farts seems certain!
The monks and priests from the four nations looked at the four wet, limp, and completely useless piles of "Saliva Scriptures" and then looked towards the General's Mansion. They seemed to hear the shrill wails of the chief Scripture Masters' souls...
"Retreat! Quickly take away the holy relics!"
"I don't want the rent... anymore! I don't want the spirit stones either!"
"The Scripture... I'm giving it to His Highness Ling as a bib! It's absolutely not blasphemous!"
"Please, General's Mansion, have mercy! We will return to the Holy Mountain and meditate in seclusion... facing the wall and reflecting on our mistakes!"
The clergy of the four nations carried the four holy objects that had lost all their "divinity" and had become a heavy burden, as if they were carrying four coffins, and fled the royal city in a hurry. Their backs were as desolate as dogs that had lost their homes.
Peace returned to the backyard of the General's Mansion. The setting sun cast its afterglow over the empty space where the sacred objects once stood, and also over Lingbao. Lingbao sat on a cushion, clutching a ball of wet paper pulp torn from a "spit paper brick" in his tiny hands. He curiously pinched and pulled at it, his little mouth gurgling to imitate the sounds of drooling, enjoying himself immensely.
Xiao Jue stepped forward, bent down, and picked up the Beidi Scripture, the one most saturated with saliva, its cover limp and peeling. The pages were sticky and heavy, emitting a blend of milky aroma and the aura of Chaos. He flipped open a page, only to see that the once solemn text had been blurred by saliva. The ink had smeared and spread, blending with the paper fibers to form abstract patterns that no one could decipher. Only where Lingbao had drooled more heavily did the paper sag slightly, leaving a small, moist indentation, like a primordial Chaos seal.
His broad fingers gently brushed across the blurred paper, feeling the text thoroughly "annotated" and "covered" by his saliva. The cold sheath of the Guihong Ruler seemed to soften slightly as it was soaked in the moist, chaotic aura.
He raised his head, his gaze seemingly piercing the courtyard wall, casting his gaze upon the sacred mountain temple, once awash with chanting and a thriving incense. He cast his gaze upon the delusion of trying to measure chaos with scripture and constrain the source with faith. Then, he lowered his head to gaze at his daughter, who was intently playing with a ball of saliva paper on the mat. A new strand of crystal silk thread clung to Lingbao's little chin, gleaming faintly in the setting sun.
A deep voice, with a calmness and a touch of gentleness that saw through the vanity of the scriptures, sounded softly amidst the gurgling sound of Lingbao's saliva:
“Ten thousand volumes of scriptures cannot fully describe the innocence of life’s first cry.”
"A thousand doctrines cannot explain the natural order of chaos."
"This profound and profound Taoist tradition, the piousness of burning incense and bowing one's head..."
He leaned over slightly and gently wiped away the drop of saliva on Lingbao's chin with his fingertips. The moist touch was filled with the warmth of life.
"... ultimately, it's just a longing for the generous drop of throat nectar between my son's gums."
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