Chapter Twenty: Descent into Madness!

At this moment, Lu Jue was dressed in the garb of a prisoner, his hands and feet shackled by oversized, specially crafted manacles. His feet were bare, and Song Mu, peering through the bars, caught sight of the way Lu Jue’s toes curled slightly toward the ground. When Song Mu first approached, the prisoner appeared composed, but after just a few probing questions, he became visibly unsettled.

Those untrained in deception often betray themselves with involuntary gestures—small movements to ease their own anxiety. Lu Jue, already unnerved by Jin Changwu’s imposing presence, was further rattled by Song Mu’s relentless interrogation. Though he forced himself to appear calm, his body betrayed him completely.

Song Mu employed a subtle technique, a form of incremental questioning akin to the “foot-in-the-door” effect. His inquiries began gently, but gradually became more precise, inevitably exposing Lu Jue’s vulnerabilities.

Jin Changwu listened, surprised by the rhythm of Song Mu’s questioning—it bore a resemblance to professional interrogation. Hearing Song Mu declare that Lu Jue was lying, Jin Changwu rose in astonishment and moved forward.

Song Mu maintained his calm and asked, “Was it someone inside the city who gave you your orders?”

Lu Jue let out a cold laugh, refusing to reply.

Song Mu paused, then looked up at Lu Jue and said, “I believe the person who manipulated you knows me well—very well.”

Lu Jue remained silent, as though he had sensed the trap in Song Mu’s words and now chose to say nothing, leaving Song Mu’s probing thrusts to strike uselessly against a wall of indifference.

Jin Changwu reached the front, let out a cold snort, and said, “Lu Jue, stop pretending to be ignorant. You must understand: attempting to assassinate a literary heir and killing scholars—your crimes are compounded. You’ll be sentenced to dismemberment.”

“If you confess, at least you’ll be granted a whole corpse.”

His words, razor-sharp and chilling, seemed to lower the temperature of the entire room.

Yet Lu Jue remained mute, as if determined to deny all involvement. Jin Changwu, seeing this, sighed and spoke to Song Mu, “We’ll interrogate him for a few more days. You’ve seen him today—no need to worry too much. Come, let’s go.”

Song Mu glanced at Lu Jue, his gaze lowering in resignation. He sighed softly, then nodded and turned to leave.

But just then, a low chuckle sounded—lengthy and sinister. It grew louder, transforming into wild, unrestrained laughter.

“The cycles of literary power are ever-changing! But in this world, is literary strength the only path to ascendancy? Literary strength constrains the mind! It shackles the heart!”

Lu Jue roared, as a frenzied surge of literary energy erupted from his body, filling the room in an instant, and growing ever more intense.

—

Song Mu stepped back rapidly, alarmed to see the color of Lu Jue’s literary energy was wrong—not the pure hue of normal literary power, but a murky, earthy brown. The tainted energy churned through the chamber.

“Not good!” Ouyang Hong, who had been seated nearby, sprang up, his eyes wide, and shouted, “Guards, seize him at once—activate the Forbidden Literary Lock!”

At his command, Ouyang Hong leapt forward, his own literary power radiating from his body. In his hand, a crimson brush appeared from thin air, and with his other hand he gathered moisture into the bristles, then wrote in the air.

“Entering the ancient temple at dawn, the first sunlight shines on tall trees.
Winding paths lead to quiet places, where flowers and foliage deepen the meditation chamber.
Mountain light delights the birds, pond reflections calm the heart.
All is silent, save for bells and chimes.”

The verses of Chang Jian’s “On the Zen Courtyard Behind Broken Mountain Temple” floated in the air, the bright red characters drifting toward Lu Jue, who was held fast by the guards.

Suddenly, bird calls and bell chimes rang throughout the room; a cool clarity swept in, and even Song Mu felt his mind clear. The poem, written by a scholar of advanced rank, had an immediate effect—the red characters dispersed the tainted energy, passed through the bars, and rushed into Lu Jue’s body, traveling beneath his skin and gathering in his face before sinking deep within.

In the next moment, Lu Jue’s manic state subsided, and the foul energy dissipated.

Song Mu exhaled heavily, watching as Ouyang Hong approached the bars, his hand shaped like a claw, channeling literary energy into Lu Jue’s body. Yet Ouyang Hong’s expression remained grave.

“Ouyang, has Lu Jue succumbed to demonic possession?” Jin Changwu asked, his voice tense as he looked at the now-unconscious Lu Jue.

No one had expected Lu Jue to descend into madness after just a few words. For a scholar to fall to the demonic path within prison was especially perilous. Once possessed, he would regain his scholar’s powers, bolstered by demonic energy—his abilities would be unpredictable, and he would be even harder to subdue.

Worse still, the raging demonic energy could affect other prisoners, potentially triggering a chain reaction.

Ouyang Hong injected more literary energy into Lu Jue, but his brow remained tightly furrowed. “Strange, this doesn’t seem like self-induced possession—it’s too sudden, too fierce. How could it erupt like this?”

—

Ouyang Hong’s words struck Jin Changwu like a bolt of terror. He turned to Ouyang Hong and asked urgently, “If it’s not self-induced, could a demonic cultivator have planted a seed of inner demon?”

“I don’t know. Jin, this is bad—let’s deal with him quickly,” Ouyang Hong sighed. Yet before he finished, the unconscious Lu Jue’s eyes snapped open, glowing with a crimson light.

“Careful!” Song Mu was the first to notice, shouting a warning.

In the next instant, black smoke poured from Lu Jue’s seven orifices, surging first toward the two guards restraining him.

The guards screamed, thrown violently against the wall. Their armor inscriptions flashed, struggling to fend off the dark energy.

“Demonic energy! His literary power has turned to demonic power!” Ouyang Hong cried in horror. He raised his left hand to suppress the darkness, while with his right he wrote another poem in the air.

He repeated the verses of “On the Zen Courtyard Behind Broken Mountain Temple,” but this time the red characters failed to affect the demonic energy.

“Damn it, it’s the seed of inner demon! Lu Jue willingly succumbed, and I can’t suppress him!” Ouyang Hong shouted. Jin Changwu hurried forward, unleashing his literary power.

“I’ll help—Warden, take Song Mu out at once!”

As he spoke, both Ouyang Hong and Jin Changwu simultaneously wrote calming verses, but their words only held the demonic energy at bay for a moment. Jin Changwu’s brow was slick with sweat; he stepped back and drew his official seal from his belt.

“No, I fear the prison won’t withstand this—I need the power of a Grand Scholar!”

He activated his golden seal, which radiated brilliant light. Beams of gold streamed from cracks in the ceiling, a surge of righteous energy pressing down. Song Mu retreated, feeling the world itself forced downward.

“Jin, let’s act now! Lu Jue is breaking through!”

“Then we must kill him—he cannot be allowed to ascend in this place!”

…