Chapter 145: Three Consecutive Poems on Chrysanthemums to Break the Impasse!

Ke Jijin's murmuring voice slowly sounded, laced with a hint of astonishment. At this moment, the sounds of chirping birds and babbling streams seemed to suddenly echo around him.

A gentle breeze swept past, yet a chill struck Ke Jijin's heart.

Ke Jijin attempted to channel more power into the Scroll of the Hundred Flowers' Annihilation, but in the next instant, realization struck him sharply, and his figure retreated rapidly backward.

Another gentle breeze blew slowly from an unknown source, but this time, the wind was mixed with countless peach blossom petals.

At that very fraction of a second, everything around them abruptly changed its appearance.

The bloody fog had vanished, and the dense houses of Shaozhou Prefecture were gone as well. Now, the sky was high and the clouds were sparse, the weather clear and bright. Beneath his feet lay boundless miles of crisscrossing paddy fields where crops thrived, and birds soared and chirped lightly in the sky.

In the extreme distance, a tiny village seemed to rest peacefully, from which wisps of cooking smoke curled gently upwards.

"This..." Ke Jijin looked around, momentarily lost for words, his expression filled with panic.

At that moment, a calm voice came from beside him, as tranquil as an ancient well, yet seemingly brimming with boundless power.

"I wonder if this *Peach Blossom Spring* of mine can take your life?!"

The words fell like a sudden clap of thunder. In that boundless clear sky, Tao Fengming stood clad in blue, his robes snapping in the wind, his wild hair lifted upward to reveal an incomparably handsome face.

At this moment, Tao Fengming was dazzling beyond measure! His resolute and handsome visage made the rest of the world seem pale by comparison.

Ke Jijin also stopped abruptly, his face frozen in utter astonishment.

"You..."

"Could you be a descendant of the Tao family?"

Tao Fengming did not speak. Instead, he simply extended a slender, fair finger and gently grasped the side of the white scroll.

The long scroll suddenly unfurled. Clearly, he had not written upon it with ink and brush, yet vast stretches of exceptionally clear characters manifested upon it.

"During the Taiyuan reign of the Jin dynasty, a fisherman of Wuling made his living by fishing. He rowed along a stream, forgetting how far he had gone. Suddenly, he came upon a peach blossom grove..."

Every single character on the white scroll was exceptionally vigorous and powerful, each radiating a unique aesthetic beauty.

As the white scroll slowly unrolled, a mighty and boundless force instantly surged toward Ke Jijin. Ke Jijin retreated violently, his expression shifting continuously.

"I can clearly sense my Scroll of the Hundred Flowers' Annihilation, but why can I no longer see it?"

"Could this be the terrifying power of *The Peach Blossom Spring*?"

Ke Jijin's pupils constricted, his facial expression drastically altered. He stared fixedly in all directions, but wherever he looked, every scene was completely unfamiliar to him.

The illusion realm released by his opponent had reached such an incredible degree.

Yet why had he never heard in this world of a *Peach Blossom Spring* that could be invoked by a mere Presented Scholar?

Ke Jijin felt completely baffled, yet unable to pinpoint what was amiss. He could only retreat frantically, hoping to escape this illusory domain.

Suddenly, an aura fell beside him, and Tao Fengming's calm voice sounded once more.

"Having entered my domain, do you think you can leave?"

"A domain?!"

At this moment, Ke Jijin cried out almost at the top of his lungs, his face turning utterly pale. As he gazed at Tao Fengming standing mere inches away, panic finally overtook him.

"A domain? You speak of the domain that only a Grand Academician can unfold?"

"But how is this possible? You are clearly..."

The man wanted to continue speaking, but Tao Fengming before him had already made his move.

Surrounding his body were now countless peach blossom petals, and petals coiled around his fingertips as well. The very fabric of heaven and earth seemed to undergo a sudden shift.

Ke Jijin abruptly realized that the very last shred of his connection with the outside world had vanished entirely.

At that moment, he fully understood Tao Fengming's words—this was indeed a domain.

Only a domain could create such a small, transient world completely severed from the outside.

"No! Absolutely impossible! How could I die here?!"

Ke Jijin let out a furious roar as demonic energy surged turbulently around his body.

"I have not yet slaughtered all you hypocritical wretches who style yourselves as the righteous path!"

Tao Fengming's face revealed a dense intent to kill, resolute determination flashing across his sword-like brows and starry eyes as his figure vanished amidst the peach blossoms.

A fierce battle abruptly erupted!

Meanwhile, everyone standing atop the city walls of Shaozhou Prefecture witnessed an entirely different scene.

The bloody fog still existed, continuing to spread outward, but at some unknown point, the wild and arrogant shouting in the city's sky had faded away.

In its place, amidst the hazy bloody fog, appeared a sphere of light emitting a faint white glow.

That light sphere was immensely vast, covering almost the entire sky above the city, and no movement could be detected from within it.

At this moment, Shaozhou Prefecture maintained an exceptionally eerie and profound silence.

As for Song Mu, who knelt and sat before the Bronze Stele of Great Confucians, he had already immersed himself completely in the poetry he was writing.

"A year's best scenery you must keep in mind, 'tis when oranges are yellow and tangerines green."

Having finished writing *In Answer to Liu Jingwen*, rich literary Qi surged from the poem, prompting the elderly man surnamed Gu beside him to instantly cry out in astonishment.

"Four dou of literary talent... Wait, is this an original poem?"

As his voice fell, the surrounding people turned to look in succession, but Song Mu had already lowered his head to begin writing his second poem on chrysanthemums.

"The nature of things has always been unique; who begrudges the withered and cold or craves flamboyant bloom?"

"The chrysanthemum chooses its own realm of wind and frost; it is not a flower belonging to the warmth of spring."

Another poem by Yang Wanli, *Ode to the Chrysanthemum*, was written down. Simultaneously, the surrounding situation underwent a earth-shattering transformation.

The nearby soldiers and commoners felt as though the bloody fog had encountered an invisible barrier. Within that barrier, a massive amount of literary power suddenly surged forth, generating thick literary Qi right from the ceremonial tablet in Song Mu's hands.

That robust literary power and Qi continuously billowed outward, clearing the immediate vicinity entirely.

Yet Song Mu's brush did not stop.

The old man sitting nearby gradually showed a moved expression. Seeing yet another original poem, his face betrayed a hint of excitement and thrill.

"This kid has actually written two original poems in succession!"

The old man said in both shock and delight. Those around him did not understand the full meaning, but they could clearly feel the dense bloody fog retreating madly, and their expressions grew jubilant one by one.

At this moment, they all cast their gazes toward Song Mu, their eyes filled with deep reverence.

The young scholar before them had actually saved everyone at such a moment.

Song Mu's brush still did not stop. As words continued to flow onto the paper resting on his ceremonial tablet, the final poem was completed.

"Blooming not alongside the hundred flowers, it stands alone by the sparse fence, its charm unexhausted."

"It would rather die on the branch holding its fragrance than be blown away amidst the northern wind."

With Zheng Sixiao's *Painting the Chrysanthemum* completed, Song Mu inscribed the title.

At that very instant, Song Mu slowly opened his eyes, and the ceremonial tablet in his hand erupted with brilliant radiance.

Not only that, but the writings of the Great Confucians before Song Mu also began to glow, individual characters floating above it and illuminating the entire world moments later.

Song Mu's three consecutive poems on chrysanthemums grew broader in artistic conception with each piece: from praising the beauty of the chrysanthemum standing alone; to praising its independent choice of deep autumn winds and unyielding stature; and finally, to its noble and proud skeletal structure—even while isolated from other flowers in a remote corner, howling northern winds could not prevent it from spreading its branches and scattering its fragrance!

Through the three poems, Song Mu elevated the artistic conception step by step, causing the literary Qi upon the verses to surge even more violently. The churning literary Qi not only formed a protective barrier around Song Mu but also stirred the writings of the Great Confucians before him to vibrate!

Within moments, everything around them began to shift.

"Splendid, splendid, splendid! Composing three chrysanthemum poems in succession has yielded four, five, and six dou of talent. This youngster has a boundless future!"

The elder surnamed Gu had already risen, looking at Song Mu with eyes full of shock and admiration, his face glowing with vitality.

Almost in a flash of lightning, the bronze steles inscribed with the Great Confucians' essays atop the city walls on all three sides began to emit light.

The light of the bronze steles flared once more. This time, rather than converging into soaring pillars of light piercing the sky as before, ripples of radiance began to undulate outward.

Those beams of light rippled outward from the four city walls, spreading into the surroundings and continually cleansing everything in their path.

The bloody fog of the Scroll of the Hundred Flowers' Annihilation dissipated instantly upon contact, and the blooming blood flowers shattered into powder upon impact.

All four sides of the city began to operate, continuously scouring and compressing the bloody fog. In just a brief moment, Song Mu had blasted a breach through the illusion realm of the Hundred Flowers' Annihilation.

Throughout the city, people who had survived the catastrophe slowly began to awaken.

Song Mu had already stood up. The literary Qi driven by these poems flowed back into his body, and Song Mu finally felt a resurgence of strength. As he looked into the distance, the scenery on the faraway horizon had become clearly visible.

"Young man," an aged voice called out. Song Mu lowered his head as the old man slowly stood up.

"With your own strength, you have saved the entire city."

"No, My Lord, the credit belongs to the Great Confucian essays on the city walls, and to my teacher," Song Mu replied calmly.

The old man gazed intently at Song Mu with burning eyes and posed a question:

"Young man, you haven't told me yet—who are you, and to which literary lineage do you belong?"

Song Mu lowered his gaze to look at the jade pendant of his literary lineage, his expression utterly calm.

"This junior is Song Mu, hailing from the Song family of Shiyang."