Chapter Sixteen: Another Wager

When Song Mu prepared to face Master Xun’s examination, the group of anxious scholars all lifted their heads, fixing their gaze intently on the two. Yesterday, Song Mu had already given them a shocking revelation, and today they were eager to see whether he would shine again.

Especially after witnessing Song Mu’s seemingly random flipping through the book earlier, their curiosity was piqued: could he truly recite the texts after such a haphazard method? Each person harbored different emotions, but Pan Wenhao, who had been punished in the classroom, felt a particular resentment.

A few days ago, Song Mu had embarrassed him, and he had been awaiting his father’s reprisal against Song Mu. Unexpectedly, when his father returned that morning with dark circles under his eyes, he immediately warned Pan Wenhao not to provoke Song Mu at the county academy again. Pan Wenhao had never seen his father so disheveled in his life, and the root of all this was the very Song Mu before him. Having suffered humiliation, Pan Wenhao now wished fervently to see Song Mu fail.

Song Mu, meanwhile, walked calmly up to Master Xun, hands clasped, his face carrying a measure of confidence. Master Xun glanced up at Song Mu, his expression solemn as he opened the book before him. Regardless of Song Mu’s current standing in the eyes of the magistrate and instructor, and despite the perilous scene of yesterday, if Song Mu failed this examination, the cane would still fall.

With this in mind, Master Xun pointed to The Doctrine of the Mean and asked Song Mu to begin reciting.

“The decree of Heaven is called nature; to follow nature is called the Way; cultivating the Way is called teaching…”

“…Its repeated admonitions and instructions to people are profound and heartfelt. Scholars, can you afford not to exert your utmost effort?”

In Song Mu’s original world, The Great Learning and The Doctrine of the Mean were extracted from the Book of Rites by Cheng and Zhu of the Northern Song, and placed alongside The Analects and Mencius as the Four Books. But in this world, these two texts were authored by the great scholar who created the concept of literary force, though the wording was essentially still from the Book of Rites, and thus the contents were nearly identical.

Upon hearing Song Mu finish, Master Xun nodded and produced a copy of The Analects. Song Mu began to recite, his pauses appropriate, enunciation clear, his voice growing ever more resonant, carrying the air of a true scholar.

The students below compared the book to Song Mu’s recitation and found not a single word amiss. Their eyes widened in astonishment. They had known Song Mu was well-versed in the Four Books and Five Classics, but never imagined he could reach such a level.

Book after book, Master Xun’s expression grew more satisfied, and when the recitation ended, he stroked his chin with narrowed eyes and uttered a single word: “Excellent.”

Yet Master Xun did not stop there. Suddenly, he addressed Song Mu, “Do you understand the meaning of these passages?”

“I remember them all,” Song Mu replied.

“Oh?” Master Xun raised his brows, clearly intrigued. “Then let me test you further.”

The students below opened their mouths in surprise; when had Master Xun ever shown such regard for Song Mu? Was it because of yesterday’s celebrated poem?

“Only the virtuous rejoice in this. The unworthy, though possessing it, feel no joy.” Master Xun asked, and Song Mu promptly cited the source, explained the meaning, and even added his own insights.

Master Xun’s interest deepened, and he asked several more questions. Song Mu answered each without hesitation.

It so happened that Master Xun had encountered Song Mu’s area of expertise; Song Mu’s undergraduate thesis had been an exegesis of Mencius, and he knew the interpretations backward and forward.

After several rounds of questioning, Master Xun was satisfied and allowed Song Mu to return to his seat.

Watching Song Mu calmly take his place, the other students grew restless. Song Mu’s performance was simply too outstanding. Even Kong Zong, always the diligent scholar, had stumbled in his recitation, barely passing without error. Yet Song Mu’s recitation was both impassioned and flawless, and when asked to interpret specific sentences, he responded quickly and eloquently. His ability to explain the classics was beginning to show real promise.

Previously, they had never paid much attention to Song Mu, but now they could not help feeling astonished, even incredulous.

After Master Xun’s examination, only three or four students passed, and two of those were already in their thirties, to whom such material was second nature.

When Master Xun departed, several students immediately gathered around Song Mu, asking eagerly, “Song, how did you manage it? Your recitation today was exceptional.”

One student spoke with a hint of envy, his eyes shining as he observed Song Mu’s composed demeanor.

“Yes, Song, how did you do it? We’re all friends in the academy; don’t keep it to yourself. If you have any good methods for memorizing, share them with us.”

Hearing this, the others nodded in agreement, even Kong Zong cast a curious glance, clearly interested.

Song Mu smiled and nodded as he tidied his books. “There’s nothing much to it, but I don’t mind sharing it with you.”

The students chuckled, gathering excitedly around him. Song Mu cleared his throat and began, “I started learning these texts at home as a child. It’s been ten years now.”

The crowd nodded; they knew the Song family was a scholarly house, and its children read from an early age.

“But along the way, memorizing it all was truly difficult. I often stumbled and stammered.”

“However,” Song Mu paused, and everyone looked to him.

“It was a strange encounter. A few days ago, I left the city and happened to wander to Yanggang.”

“What? This is related to Yanggang? Song, don’t try to fool us,” replied one student, disappointed by Song Mu’s odd story.

But Song Mu only smiled and continued, “It was a coincidence. I vaguely remember a thunderclap, a bolt of white lightning struck beside me.”

“What? You were struck by lightning?” a student exclaimed.

“Yes. When I returned, my mind was muddled for days, but then suddenly became clear. I could read ten lines at a glance and remember everything.”

Song Mu shamelessly fabricated an outlandish tale to justify his abilities. The students’ faces fell in disappointment.

“Ah, struck by lightning? That’s not something one can try for themselves.”

They sighed, discouraged.

Song Mu inwardly apologized for misleading them. There was no shortcut in scholarship; progress required ten or a hundred times the effort.

His reason for telling such a story was to explain his recent behavior—otherwise, a bookworm suddenly becoming a prodigy would arouse suspicion.

After all, the Emperor was said to be of dragon lineage, and scholars descended from the star of literature—if Song Mu gained scholarly prowess after being struck by lightning, it was hardly an anomaly. He only hoped no one would actually attempt to get struck by lightning…

Kong Zong understood that Song Mu’s words were meant to encourage diligence, and shook his head with a smile.

Meanwhile, Pan Wenhao, who had been listening closely, suddenly stood up, slapped the table, and pointed at Song Mu.

“Song Mu, what are you up to? If you don’t want to share your memorization methods, so be it—but why make things difficult by inventing nonsense about lightning strikes?”

Song Mu, hearing Pan Wenhao’s challenge, only pressed his lips and ignored him. Pan Wenhao, seeing Song Mu pretend not to hear, grew angrier and turned to the others.

“Fellow scholars, Song Mu’s story is baseless. Don’t be fooled by him—there’s something fishy going on here.”

“Oh? Pan, what do you suspect? Are you suggesting I colluded with Master Xun beforehand just to show off my memorization today?” Song Mu replied unexpectedly.

Pan Wenhao, who had been speaking fervently, paused.

“That’s right, Pan Wenhao, don’t speak carelessly. If you can’t match him, then so be it. A gentleman should have magnanimity!” the others chimed in.

Pan Wenhao’s face darkened, and he slammed the table again.

Kong Zong stood up and addressed Pan Wenhao. “Pan, that’s enough. We’re all friends. If this hurts our friendship, it’s not worth it.”

“Who cares about being friends with him!” Pan Wenhao shouted, then strode to Song Mu and stared at him.

“Song Mu, do you dare to wager with me again?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Song Mu replied calmly, flashing a bright smile. “I already won once before, I don’t mind winning again.”

Pan Wenhao clenched his fists, his expression sinister, but a hint of sly delight flashed in his eyes. He spoke in a low voice, “Very well. Let’s wager on the upcoming provincial exam. If you become a scholar, I’ll kneel before you in front of everyone in the academy, admit my mistake, and honor you as a learned man thereafter. But if you fail, you must let us all see the Song family’s ancient books and share your memorization methods!”

“Outrageous! Pan Wenhao, the Song family’s ancient books are a family secret. That’s a grave offense! Song, pay him no mind!” Kong Zong rebuked, knowing full well Pan Wenhao’s intent.

Song Mu narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Pan Wenhao’s arrogant face, then smiled faintly.

“Pan, you overestimate yourself. Your bowing and apology can hardly compare to the methods handed down by my ancestors.”

As Song Mu spoke, Pan Wenhao’s face flushed red with anger. He stiffened his neck and retorted, “Then what do you propose?”

“If I pass the provincial exam and become a scholar, you’ll shed your robes and work the docks, hauling fish for seven days. If I fail, I’ll do the same and share my memorization methods with you. What do you say?”

Song Mu’s proposal struck directly at Pan Wenhao’s weakness—a pampered young master, forced to handle the filthiest work in public for seven days, would surely balk.

The others smiled knowingly at Song Mu’s demand, expecting Pan Wenhao to back down.

But this time, Pan Wenhao did not retreat. He stiffened his neck, gritted his teeth, and nodded fiercely.

“Fine. Let everyone witness the outcome of the provincial exam.”

Song Mu was a little bemused, but smiled calmly nonetheless.

…