Chapter 112: A Chance Discovery in Conversation

"When the Saint of Poetry Du was alive, he often spoke of the brilliance of life: ambitious and fulfilled in youth, adrift in middle age, and serene in old age. He held only one regret: the day he and the Saint of Poetry Li climbed to a great height to gaze into the distance. The mountains and rivers were magnificent then, shrouded in clouds and mist. Looking upon the vast landscape, they spoke of how heroes should emerge from the ranks of the young."

"When Du was in Kuizhou, feeling the turbulence of the world, he wrote 'Climbing' amidst the sorrow of age and illness. At that time, demons were rampant, and the people suffered in water and fire. This poem echoed the grandeur of heaven and earth, reflecting on the rise and fall of dynasties across the Divine Land throughout history, and how time passes like the flowing river."

"Such splendor of the mountains and rivers of the Divine Land cannot be protected by the strength of us old men alone; it is forged by the million valiant sons of the nation. Youth should possess the spirit of heroes, like the surging waters of the Yangtze River, rolling forward, endless for all eternity."

The evaluation by the Saint of Poetry Du was nothing short of incisive. In a few sentences, he laid bare Du Fu’s indignation during those times, while also serving as a bridge to describe the grandeur and beauty of the poem. By juxtaposing the two, he called upon the countless youth to find their purpose. As Song Mu finished reading, he found himself breathless, finally breaking into a knowing smile.

The scholars nearby had gathered around, staring at the text in a daze, their faces filled with astonishment. Seeing the signature of the Saint of Poetry, they looked at one another before turning their gaze toward Song Mu. At that moment, Song Mu seemed to be glowing in their presence.

The ultimate goal of the scholar’s path is to achieve great deeds and attain everlasting fame. Yet, this scholar, younger than all of them, had already achieved one of these things. These few poems were enough to secure his place in the history of the Wen Dynasty. This filled everyone with admiration, and some, their eyes brimming with envy, silently made grand resolutions of their own.

"A commentary from the Saint of Poetry—this is a privilege not even the top-ranked scholar received," Liu Jianyu remarked. The crowd was moved, but Song Mu regained his composure and turned his gaze to the poem ranked first.

It was a frontier poem, also praising heroes but with profound insight. After reading it, Song Mu felt a surge of pride; the poem possessed immense literary talent and was undoubtedly a top-tier martial poem. Its author was Gao Yunhai; judging by the surname and the style, he might well be a descendant of the Gao clan, a prestigious line of poets.

After the group lingered around Song Mu for a while, the instructor leading them into the Academy called out, bringing everyone back to reality. They then began to head toward the Academy.

Song Mu promptly returned the booklet to Liu Jianyu with a bow of thanks, picked up his belongings, and followed. At the entrance, he presented his scholar’s badge. The instructor checking them was actually a Juren. As the badge touched his hand, a flow of literary energy surged through it, and Song Mu’s name appeared. The instructor nodded, returned the badge, and spoke.

"Room A, East Dormitory. Jiaguo, take him there."

As he spoke, a boy of about ten years old stepped forward, bowed to Song Mu, helped him carry two of his items, and led him into the Academy. The boy was around twelve or thirteen, small for his age, wearing a plain robe with his hair tied back with a cloth strip. He was clearly a student of the Academy.

The Academy enrolled scholars, elementary students, and Juren, numbering in the hundreds. Among them, the most numerous, besides the outstanding scholars of each session, were the "Confucian students." The reason was that such students could only enter under one specific condition.

Their fathers and grandfathers, two direct generations, had both died on the battlefield. The government, in a gesture of grace, would take in the eldest son to study in the Academy for ten years, aiming to raise a new scholar for their family. Every such child was worthy of respect from every scholar.

"Senior Brother, you are the top-ranked scholar of this examination, aren't you?"

Before Song Mu could find the words to start a conversation, the boy spoke first. Song Mu responded with a smile.

"That's right. How did you know?"

The boy smiled. The reason was self-evident; during the scholar's procession and the Academy’s rites, he had been in the Academy the whole time, so how could he not know who Song Mu was? Song Mu’s response was merely to bridge the distance between them.

As they walked through a long corridor, Song Mu began to ask questions.

"What is your name, Junior Brother?"

"My name is Xie Jiaguo. Senior Brother can call me Little Xie."

"Xie Jiaguo." Song Mu repeated the name twice and nodded. The name was enough to show the importance his family placed on him. However, another thought crossed his mind. "Little Xie, is there an instructor in the Academy named Tao Fengming?"

"Instructor Fengming? Of course, but he only arrived at the Academy recently."

"Recently?" Song Mu frowned at the answer, but Little Xie continued nodding.

"Yes, it was right after the provincial examination. The Academic Inspector brought him here to serve as a proctor. He teaches us history and the Six Arts of a Gentleman, though he seems to only like teaching archery and chariot-driving."

The Six Arts of a Gentleman are Rites, Music, Calligraphy, Mathematics, Archery, and Chariot-driving. The first four are literary, and the latter two are martial. As he spoke, Little Xie seemed quite interested and continued to chatter on.

"But Instructor Fengming doesn't look very well. He always has that dejected and listless look. The senior brothers whisper among themselves..."

Little Xie suddenly stopped, rolled his eyes, and immediately changed the subject.

"But Instructor Fengming is a very good man. Everyone is eager to learn what he teaches, and everyone says they have never seen such a brilliant teacher."

After saying this, Little Xie quickened his pace while carrying Song Mu's belongings. Song Mu followed, his thoughts drifting elsewhere.

He recalled seeing Instructor Fengming in such a dejected state in the backyard of the Qiu residence that night. At the time, Song Mu had been stunned by the mysterious, supernatural arts the man displayed, his focus entirely on why he had been summoned there. Later, he had become the man's disciple in a daze, without ever truly understanding what kind of person he was.

From Little Xie’s scattered remarks, Song Mu finally gained some understanding. The dejection and listlessness of Instructor Fengming might not be as pathetic as others thought; he was an unusual Jinshi degree holder and must have been a formidable scholar once. The details were not something for him to probe into just yet.

What surprised Song Mu most was that the man had only just arrived at the Academy. Based on his words that day, Song Mu had assumed he had been teaching there for a long time. This coincidence made Song Mu suspicious—did the man join the Academy at this specific time just because of him?

The thought lingered in Song Mu’s mind for only a moment before he brushed it aside. Perhaps the man simply wanted to settle down and teach, and it just happened to be convenient for him.

"Senior Brother Song, this is your quarters. There are twelve rooms in the A-tier, and only those in the top three of each exam are eligible to stay here."

Xie Jiaguo opened a door and set Song Mu’s things inside, continuing to explain the rules of the Academy.

"Confucian students have an exam every six months, elementary students every three months, scholars every two months, and Juren every month. Only the top three in each exam qualify for the A-tier rooms, and if your ranking drops, you must move out."

Xie Jiaguo pulled out a key and placed it in Song Mu's hand, looking up with a smile that revealed slightly uneven teeth.

"Except for the A-tier, the other senior brothers live in four-person rooms and have to perform chores for the Academy."

Song Mu took the key and nodded in understanding. Although the Academy of this era was vastly different from what he had known, in an age where literary power reigned supreme, the competition would only be more intense. Everyone had to work harder to earn their rewards.