Chapter 122: Writing Fonts

“Going on a hunt? You want to take me with you?”

Song Mu’s face was filled with astonishment. He knew about this expedition—the largest operation the Prefectural Academy had undertaken in recent years. Everyone taking part was either a juren instructor or a xiucai who had cultivated for many years.

Such a hunting mission was bound to be extremely difficult. Yet now Tao Fengming actually intended to bring him along.

Tao Fengming, however, remained utterly unperturbed. He looked calmly at Song Mu, a faint smile on his face.

“What? Are you incapable of it?”

Song Mu paused before replying, “Master, I have only just begun cultivating literary power. Even in the Otherworld, I am still helpless. If I join the hunt, will I not only hold everyone back...?”

There was not the slightest change in Tao Fengming’s expression beneath his dark-ringed eyes. He merely stared at Song Mu.

“But what does that matter?”

Song Mu opened his mouth, then immediately fell silent. Enlightenment dawned upon him. Indeed, what did it matter?

The man before him was a powerful Presented Scholar.

If he went out with a Presented Scholar, what danger could he possibly encounter?

Song Mu lowered his gaze slightly. His heart had calmed considerably, and he realized that his reaction had been overly flustered and lacking in confidence. Tao Fengming poured him another cup of tea and spoke bluntly.

“Then it is settled. We shall depart together in the middle of next month.”

After filling his own cup, Tao Fengming raised his eyes and pondered for a moment before continuing.

“Half a month should be enough time for you to study a few things properly.”

Song Mu said nothing more and merely nodded. At that moment, Tao Fengming made another arrangement with him.

“Starting tomorrow evening, come here every night to study the Otherworld. Today we only covered the Lesser Otherworld. As for the other varieties, we shall learn them gradually from now on.”

Song Mu rose and bowed respectfully. Tao Fengming said nothing further and allowed him to leave.

Once Song Mu stepped out of Tao Fengming’s courtyard, the chill of the autumn wind immediately cleared his thoughts. Looking back on what had happened, his face was still filled with disbelief.

He had only just arrived at the Prefectural Academy, yet he was already about to leave again.

But Song Mu soon came to terms with it. There was no place for him to argue. A disciple obeyed his master’s wishes. So long as his master’s command was reasonable, he had no grounds to refuse.

Besides, the chance to travel with Tao Fengming had already inspired Song Mu to make many plans.

A hunting expedition was undertaken specifically to slay demons and monsters. During the process, he could not only test the condition of his Otherworld, but also make careful preparations for another matter.

The poems in his ancient book.

The ancient book still contained only the few poems he had previously acquired. Nearly the entire latter half remained blank. If he could use several battle poems against demons and monsters during this expedition, he would surely obtain quite a number of new poems.

This was truly a splendid opportunity.

With that thought in mind, Song Mu became extremely excited. He planned to spend the next two days gathering some battle poems to study, so that he could test them one by one when the time came.

...

“At present, battle poems can be divided into several categories. According to their uses, there are offensive battle poems, weapon battle poems, beast battle poems, and object battle poems.”

“Their function is to activate the poems written on literary paper, strengthening people, weapons, beasts, and even objects such as water and fire. Naturally, these are the most common battle poems, and they can be adapted to any situation.”

“As for schools of thought, there are four major branches: the Romantic School represented by the Sage Li, the Realist School represented by the Sage Du, the Frontier School represented by the Sage Gao, and the oldest of them all, the Pastoral School represented by the Sage Tao.”

“The direct power of poems from the Romantic and Frontier Schools is the greatest. Poems of the Realist and Pastoral Schools can strengthen the collective through empathy. Naturally, if they can be released through mental force, their effects will generally surpass those of ordinary poems.”

During a literary lesson, a tutor surnamed Zhong was explaining the differences among various poems used in the application of literary power. Song Mu and the other xiucai listened with complete concentration, all of them feeling as though a new world had opened before their eyes.

Previously, their understanding of battle poems had been little more than a superficial grasp. They used them however they pleased, without any real method.

Here, however, they had a teacher who carefully distinguished the various schools of poetry and explained the proper applications of each type. The instruction was truly enlightening.

Even Song Mu was taking meticulous notes, repeatedly consulting the poetry compendium distributed by the tutor.

The book contained more than a thousand poems and verses, all drawn from the Tang Dynasty and earlier periods.

Even the Three Hundred Tang Poems, Bai Juyi’s Collected Works of the Changqing Era, and the Songs of Chu were included. Every poem was accompanied by a detailed description of its effects.

After explaining the uses of poetry for quite some time, Tutor Zhong suddenly changed direction and addressed the class.

“Poems are ultimately meant for battle, but on a battlefield, opportunities can change in the blink of an eye. We often need to respond within an extremely short time. If every character must be written neatly and correctly, there will never be enough time.”

Everyone nodded at this. It was a problem they often discussed.

Even the shortest five-character quatrain, when written in regular script, required several breaths to complete. In a confrontation, that delay would leave one helpless—and might even result in instant death.

“To solve this problem, countless scholars have made extensive innovations. We now use an entirely new method of writing.”

As Tutor Zhong spoke, he suddenly picked up his brush and swept it across a sheet of white paper on the desk. Moments later, he lifted the brush. A line of cursive script had appeared.

“We call this style combat script. With it, an entire poem can be completed in an instant. In the blink of an eye, one can unleash it to slay an enemy.”

Everyone leaned forward to examine it carefully, their faces filled with astonishment. Amid the vigorous, winding strokes, individual characters could still be discerned.

Yet the forceful strokes of regular script had been greatly reduced. All the characters had become elongated and rounded.

At this, Tutor Zhong slowly shook his head, his expression somewhat helpless.

“As you have probably guessed, this style has a fatal flaw. Because the poem is written so quickly, the time available for infusing it with literary power is correspondingly shortened. Thus, when it strikes, its power is often considerably weaker than that of a poem written in ordinary regular script.”

The students were left speechless. At that moment, someone rose and asked, “Tutor, is there no better method to replace this style of writing?”

The others nodded and began asking questions as well. Tutor Zhong stroked his goatee, then nodded.

“There is. Clerical script. Its strokes are rounded, and if the characters are further simplified into the style we use today, the time required can indeed be reduced considerably.”

“But it still takes far too long.”

The students’ expressions fell. Sitting among them, Song Mu sank into thought, comparing the possibilities in his mind.

Chinese characters were, in the strictest sense, pictographs. Their complicated strokes were inevitable, yet throughout the long evolution of civilization, they had continually been simplified.

The way literary power produced a concrete effect through poetry was by infusing every character with that power. Once the literary power completed a circuit through the characters, the poem could exert its effect.

In battle, however, poetry was still somewhat lacking in this regard. A sudden idea flashed through Song Mu’s mind.

“Does anyone have a better solution?” Tutor Zhong asked again.

Song Mu rose and bowed.

“Tutor, I have an idea. I do not know whether it is suitable.”

“Let us hear it,” Tutor Zhong said, clearly pleased.

“Although we write poems to control literary power, when we use certain poems, we often need only a very small portion of their words to manifest a particular attack.”

“So...” Song Mu looked up and asked, “Could we use two styles of writing within a single line of poetry? We could write the unimportant portions in combat script, while using regular script for the few critical words?”

At these words, everyone suddenly understood. One by one, they felt that the proposal was entirely feasible.

Tutor Zhong nodded in satisfaction and said, “Exactly. That is the solution we ultimately devised. This mixed calligraphic system is called literary-combat script, and it is currently the method most commonly used by the frontier armies.”

As he spoke, Tutor Zhong looked around the room.

“This is also the level every literary combat master must achieve whenever he takes up his brush to fight.”

...