Chapter Seventy-One: Formulating a Strategy for the Southern Frontier

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A minor foreign nation, insignificant and powerless, faced a formidable enemy in the north. Year after year, its people were plundered and carried off, yet the land offered no natural barriers to defend, and its military strength was insufficient even for a single battle. The king was greatly vexed until one day, a man brought forth a strategy.

He observed that the northerners cherished their cattle and sheep, yet there was a distinction between goats and sheep...

Song Mu wrote slowly, feeling a weight lifted from his heart, his thoughts clear and his pen flowing with eloquence.

This was a classic example—it was not a particularly sophisticated method, yet every aspect struck at the pain points of the human heart.

The shifting of hearts could move nations.

“Through the ages, our Central Plains have witnessed such strange occurrences as well. Qi silk and Lu linen remain vivid in our memory. A mere piece of cloth could bring down a state; though not a weapon, it surpassed any blade in the world.”

Song Mu immediately cited an instance: during the Spring and Autumn period, the State of Qi subdued the State of Lu in an instant with a gift of fine silk. Guan Zhong’s methods were blatant; anyone with a bit of wit could see the underlying problem. Yet, faced with immense profit, the people always lost their sense of judgment.

Thus, the State of Lu was truly weakened.

At this point, Song Mu shifted his pen, turning directly to the subject of the Southern Frontier.

He began to place a decisive period on the current system of indirect rule in the south, while sowing the seeds for a powerful reform of converting native chieftaincies to direct administration.

The Southern Frontier was a region shrouded in mist and clouds, where venomous insects and fierce beasts thrived and gathered into monstrous forms, and where fine medicines were produced...

The pit Song Mu meant to dig was herbal cultivation.

Medicinal herbs took a long time to mature, and once planted, they consumed the fertility of the soil and occupied arable land for extended periods.

With only a little push—beginning with high prices for purchasing herbs—the people of the Southern Frontier would inevitably pursue profit and follow suit. When the various prefectures of the Southern Frontier increased their import of grain, and when a single acre of medicinal herbs could earn several years’ worth of grain, the people would naturally prefer to plant herbs.

In this way, the economic structure of the Southern Frontier would be artificially changed. Once the scale of herbal cultivation grew to the point that the local people could no longer be self-sufficient in grain, the government could begin to tighten its grip.

The price of herbs would gradually fall, grain imports would slowly decrease, and as the patience of the people wore thin, they would inevitably seek a breakthrough.

The pocket could not be drawn tight too quickly; if a riot broke out, it would ignite a wildfire across the land.

If left to progress naturally, the reform would succeed.

Outsider officials would replace local chieftains, policies would be introduced to end the single-crop focus and ease the grain crisis, and the new administration would take root...

Song Mu’s logic was straightforward, though his method innovative; by the time he reached this point, his essay was already brimming with literary brilliance.

Such a strategy was, in truth, somewhat insidious, for it gambled with the lives of all the people of the Southern Frontier. If it succeeded, Wen Dynasty would gain absolute control of the region.

But if it failed, the Southern Frontier would be thrown into a rebellion that would shake the world and perhaps years of war and suffering.

Song Mu did not put down his brush, for the essay prompt required not only a strategy for securing control over the Southern Frontier but also a solution to the collusion between the barbarians and the monsters. For now, he had only temporarily severed the barbarians’ hostility toward Wen Dynasty; as for the monsters, further measures were needed.

And the approach was simple: it was the distinction between goats and sheep once more.

Once key economic lifelines like grain were in Wen’s hands, they could begin to promote the medicinal use of monsters, again offering high prices.

Thus, by pitting wolf against tiger, they could not only resolve the falling price of herbs for the people but also end the collusion between southern barbarians and monsters, consolidating their rule. Even if the monsters resisted for a time, the barbarians’ stance had already been severed, and in the long run, these factions would wear each other down.

Meanwhile, Wen’s military would slowly and steadily infiltrate, gradually taking control of every strategic pass and stronghold. The Southern Frontier would be in Wen’s grasp; even if it could not be squeezed at will, any attempt at upheaval by these people would not come easily.

At this point, Song Mu breathed a sigh of relief.

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The essay was complete. In the distance, the Literary Star atop the altar began to tremble. Feeling a resonance within, Song Mu looked up and saw beams of light radiating from the Literary Star. A sense of clarity surged through him, but for some reason, a chill emanated from the sheet of paper beneath his hand.

Song Mu paid it no mind, instead focusing inward and sensing the flow of energy within him. Literary energy from all around surged into his body, and the trickle of literary power within him steadily expanded.

Song Mu felt his strength growing and was refreshed in spirit.

Seated beside him, Zhang Yiqi was preparing to finish the final lines of his essay when he too sensed the tremor of the Literary Star. At that moment, a chill crept up from his feet, spreading even in the sweltering heat.

Zhang Yiqi hissed, realizing that the literary energy in the neighboring exam cubicle was surging. He glanced at the Literary Star atop the altar.

Once... twice... three times...

“Look, the Literary Star is trembling again! Five times!”

Everyone inside and outside the exam hall felt the tremor and sensed an unusual atmosphere.

“Ah, the Literary Star trembles five times—what a fine essay this must be.”

On the street opposite the examination courtyard, a man stood on the second floor, watching the Literary Star radiate with blue light, and shouted with excitement.

Others, hearing this, hurried to look. When they saw the blue ripples surging from the Literary Star, their jaws dropped.

“How is the Literary Star trembling five times again?”

“Someone else has written an excellent essay.”

People immediately began to praise, but then, an old man leaning on a cane under a nearby tree frowned, rubbed his knee in puzzlement, and asked his servant, “Fugui, do you feel a chill? My old cold leg is starting to ache.”

The man beside the elder looked on with concern, scratching his head in confusion. “Master, I do feel a bit of a chill. I can’t put my finger on it, but it doesn’t seem as hot as before.”

“Strange... It’s blazing hot, there’s no wind under this tree, how can it be so cool?”

As they conversed, others nearby began to discuss it as well. A toddler suddenly awoke from a nap and burst into tears, a big dog pricked up its ears and barked twice. Suddenly, someone’s expression shifted, and with disbelief, they said, “Could it be that the power of this essay has manifested a phenomenon?”

As soon as this was said, everyone understood, faces astonished, and they began to talk about it with great interest.

In the northern building of the examination courtyard, the officials on the upper floor had already risen to their feet. The magistrate, Qiu Buchu, and the education commissioner, Fan Zhengxiong, both went to the window to observe the examination grounds.

Seeing the Literary Star tremble and shine brilliantly, their faces showed surprise.

“It’s only been an hour, and someone has already completed their essay—and it seems to be outstanding?”

Qiu Buchu spoke, and the others looked equally surprised. But then Qiu Buchu frowned, and Commissioner Fan drew a sharp breath.

For in the waves of blue light, they both felt a trace of coldness.

It was not easily detected, like a faint breeze. Yet for two men of their scholarly cultivation, the chill was magnified a thousandfold, enough to make them take notice.

“Is this... a hidden aura of slaughter?” Qiu Buchu remarked in surprise, while Fan Zhengxiong seemed to reach a conclusion.

“It must be a phenomenon evoked by the essay. Yet it’s strange—today’s prompt, even if it called for martial spirit, how did it evoke the rare hidden aura of slaughter?”

They had all just reviewed the essay prompts—nothing could be more proper.

Although the topic was governance of the Southern Frontier, for the scholar’s essay, profound insight was never required. Whether advocating firm or gentle policies, as long as the essay stirred literary energy, it could bring one into the realm of the scholar.

Yet with such a prompt, this rare hidden aura had appeared. Having both served on the borders, Fan and Qiu were intimately familiar with such matters. To sense it here was uncanny.

But after some investigation, it was clear—the essay’s aura had come from a candidate within the exam hall.

“There’s no vortex of literary energy, so it must have been written by someone who entered the scholar’s realm yesterday. I’d like to see just what kind of essay this is,” Fan murmured, curiosity in his eyes.

All around, the officials discussed the matter eagerly, full of anticipation.

Meanwhile, in the hall, Song Mu felt the flow of literary energy guided by the blue light from the Literary Star, further stabilizing the power within him. He slowly opened his eyes.

Though the literary power within him still flowed like a thin stream, it was now much stronger. Naturally, Song Mu was delighted.

Yet his willpower showed no sign of growth.

With this in mind, Song Mu carefully put away his essay, opened his basket, and ate a few snacks, pondering quietly.

As Song Mu tucked away his essay, those nearby felt the chill at their feet dissipate. The sun’s warmth returned, and the temperature began to rise again.

As time passed, more candidates finished their essays, repeatedly stirring the Literary Star and sending out waves of energy.

Moreover, today, vortices of literary energy frequently arose, as many candidates, after long preparation, finally broke through into the scholar’s realm.

Song Mu relaxed, finished his snacks, went to the latrine, and then took a short rest in his exam cubicle.

By afternoon, the heat roused Song Mu from his nap. By then, it was already late afternoon; many candidates were still writing furiously.

Everyone wanted to make full use of the time, striving to perfect their poems and essays.

Song Mu wiped his face to refresh himself, spread out a fresh sheet of paper, added water to the dried inkstone, and began to grind ink carefully.

As he prepared his ink, Song Mu gazed upward, contemplating the poems in his mind.

After a moment, he dipped his brush and began writing the longest rhapsody of his poetic assignment.

“Today I take up my pen in the academy examination, to praise the heroes, my heart brimming with pride.”

“Oft I recall the deeds of Yan and Huang, the bright moon shining through the ages, illuminating the world...”

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