Chapter 104: The Power of Poetry

At this moment, Song Mu felt a warm current surging through his heart, while Elder Fan carefully recounted the story behind it.

“When I was seventeen, I once traveled to Fujian with my clan uncle. At a rain-invoking poetry gathering, I composed a poem brimming with talent. The prefect himself admired it greatly and personally inscribed this poem for me.”

Elder Fan spoke with a certain hesitation in his expression.

“Unfortunately, I became a scholar at sixteen, and for the rest of my life remained merely a scholar, failing to live up to the prefect’s high expectations.”

“I am too old now, no longer strong enough to activate the original poem for the imperial examination. But now that you are awakening it, perhaps it can wield the power of a successful candidate.”

Elder Fan spoke with deep emotion, even growing slightly excited before coughing violently twice.

Meanwhile, Song Mu clenched the paper tightly in his hand.

This aged man with silver hair had once been a spirited youth, revered in a time full of hope for the future.

His words seemed to transcend time and space. At this moment, Song Mu almost saw the once-glorious Song family, whose countless scholars and officials had shaped the entire Wen Dynasty.

A surge of blood stirred fiercely within Song Mu’s heart.

Behind him, the weasel demon’s chittering sounded again outside the ancestral hall, and Kong Zong called out loudly to Song Mu.

Different voices echoed around him. Song Mu glanced carefully at Elder Fan seated on a bamboo chair, then respectfully bowed with his hands clasped.

“Thank you very much, sir.”

Afterward, Song Mu gently patted the head of the little girl before him and turned with a smile.

At that instant, literary energy flowed from Song Mu’s palm, pouring into the aged silk paper at an unprecedented speed.

The next moment, to Elder Fan’s incredulous gaze, the silk paper in Song Mu’s hand seemed to awaken. Countless streams of literary energy gathered from all directions, swirling wildly around him.

The literary energy swept through the ancestral hall like a gale, enveloping Song Mu completely.

At this moment, Song Mu appeared like a youth riding the waves of literary energy, causing everyone to widen their eyes in astonishment.

Even Elder Fan looked at Song Mu with an expression of utmost surprise, muttering in disbelief:

“This... this child, what exactly is his origin?”

Nearby, a scholar turned to him with a solemn expression and said:

“Elder, you may not know, but Song Mu...”

“...comes from the most ancient literary lineage in Shiyang County. He is the seventeenth-generation eldest grandson of the Song family of Shiyang.”

“Shiyang Song family?” Upon hearing this, Elder Fan’s eyes, deep within his wrinkles, shone brightly, as if a memory was rekindled within his heart.

“The Song family of Shiyang is the bloodline of that Song lord?”

“Sir, are you referring to—?”

“The former prefect of Fuzhou, Song Kedi. He was the one who presented me with that poem. He once said he was from Shiyang County in the Jiangnan Western Circuit,” Elder Fan said slowly, while the scholar’s face lit with understanding.

“That’s right. The literary lineage of the Song family in Shiyang County is unique.”

Hearing this, Elder Fan’s face was moved, and he muttered to himself:

“No wonder, no wonder. I never imagined that fate would allow me to meet a descendant of that nobleman here.”

“All of this is destiny.”

Turning around, Song Mu felt the literary energy within him surge wildly. In just a moment, the silk he held no longer felt like a mere piece of cloth.

It was like a blazing fire.

The literary power and energy poured into it furiously, as if wind stoked the flames, growing ever stronger.

Even Kong Zong, witnessing Song Mu’s state, unconsciously paused, looking at him with disbelief.

Song Mu met his gaze, then, holding the blazing fire, slowly stepped over the threshold of the ancestral hall.

The chittering sounded again. This time, Song Mu’s willpower and literary energy surged simultaneously.

His willpower spread wildly outward, pouring fiercely into the paper in his hand.

At that very moment—unnoticed even by Song Mu—the jade ring he wore began to glow radiantly. It was then that the fierce willpower seemed to find its direction, flowing together with the literary energy into the withered yellow paper.

With every step Song Mu took, the world before him seemed to open wider, while the ancestral hall behind him rapidly receded.

In an instant, a strange realm was formed!

“A day of clear wind comes, uplifting the tree into a golden crow.”

Song Mu softly chanted the poem—the original work of the imperial examination candidate. Now, stirred by the bloodline descendant, it unleashed a formidable power beyond belief.

This was the realm revered by scholars across the land.

From father to son, poems passed down through countless generations, eternally preserved!

This was why the great school of poetry flourished so magnificently!

A single poem summoned a majestic phenomenon. In mere moments, the world contained only Song Mu and the weasel demon.

For the first time, Song Mu clearly saw the creature’s appearance.

Yellow-headed with a white body, roughly the size of a yellow dog, it looked eerie. Its large, slender tail had been broken off, and now, on its sharp, narrow face, a pair of fierce eyes glared at Song Mu.

At this moment, it hesitated.

Though it possessed the strength of a demon general, it knew to pick the easiest target—its tactic for over a hundred years.

Unable to defeat the human with demon general power, it had set its sights on the village instead.

After much probing, it found these scholar-demons posed little threat.

Thus, it decided to kill them, using their human essence to replenish its own strength, avenging its broken tail.

But before this could proceed smoothly, the figure before it struck back fiercely.

He emanated a scorching aura that could penetrate its attacks, ignoring its manifestation, and in an instant, swept it aside.

At that moment, the demon’s heart wavered, but recalling its lost tail, its fury overcame all hesitation.

Yet now, seeing the strong youth before him and the terrifying, mysterious object gathering in his hand, fear crept into its heart.

Flames rose from his hand, flames also blazing within his eyes.

It trembled with fear and wanted to retreat, but at that moment, the surroundings changed completely.

This was clearly the ancestral hall, yet it receded endlessly, while the land before them stretched without limit.

The youth had already reached the center of this vast space.

“You should not harm others,” Song Mu said in a low voice. The weasel demon looked up, meeting his grim, teeth-gritted face.

“Nor should you try to harm my companions!”

As his words fell, the flames in his hand blazed even higher, seeming beyond control.

His robe billowed, right hand raised high, revealing a slender, graceful arm beneath the flowing fabric.

In his palm, the fire shone brilliantly.