Chapter 72: The Composed Poems and Verses

Vanquishing Demons with Poetry You ask the vast heavens. 3411 words 2026-04-11 16:36:07

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“The Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors, the First Emperor of Qin and Emperor Wu of Han, the ancestors of Tang and the literary forebears—deeds that overshadow the ages.”

“The Flying General shakes the world, the Martial Sage ends wars, the General always victorious, building merit upon the battlefield.”

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Song Mu dipped his brush in ink, but this ode was his own creation.

Back when Song Mu had just started graduate school, he entered a university literary competition and wrote this very ode. Though it only earned him a silver prize, it was still a testament to his literary talent.

This was why he dared to display it here; after all, a piece acclaimed even by professors of literature was unlikely to bring him disgrace.

Song Mu also wished to experiment—could his own original works, without borrowing from others’ poems or lyrics, summon the same surge of literary inspiration?

As each passage flowed from his pen, Song Mu felt his writing become ever smoother, his heart more at ease.

That strange sensation welled up once again. Instantly, Song Mu realized he might have found the key. And just as he finished the final line, a white mist rose from his brush.

Seeing this outpouring of literary energy, though not dense, Song Mu’s heart was set at ease.

Indeed, his own writing could produce this effect.

“Ode to Heroes Through the Ages.”

As Song Mu inscribed the title, the surge of inspiration intensified, and he lifted his brush, savoring the swelling literary aura.

Three measures of poetic energy.

Far better than Song Mu had expected.

As the aura rose, the Literary Star upon the sacrificial altar also stirred, but this time it only moved twice.

After the second motion, a wave of blue light rippled from the Literary Star toward Song Mu. This time, he sensed a different transformation.

Just as during the chaos that night in Shiyang County, rays of light began to shine from the ode before him.

The glow was not blinding, but still soared skyward. Within the light, Song Mu saw shadowy figures emerging.

Among them were steel-clad warriors, galloping horses—heroes surging within the light, then slowly dispersing.

Song Mu’s heart filled with heroic fervor.

“What is that?! Is it a sign from Heaven?!”

The column of light quickly surpassed the examination courtyard’s walls, and the crowd gathered outside soon noticed the apparition.

It was the most prominent and spectacular vision they had witnessed that day.

“The forms within this sign are people, aren’t they? Such a great pillar of light—so many shifting figures—what kind of poem or prose could produce this?”

Some cried out in astonishment, while others stroked their beards, speaking with an air of wisdom.

“It must be a verse praising heroes. Judging by the display, the poem must be rather exceptional.”

Hearing this, the onlookers nodded in agreement, but were soon drawn away by other phenomena.

At this hour, the entire examination ground was abuzz with excitement. Nearly every cell was emitting waves of literary energy, which in turn stirred the Literary Stars, drawing down the essence of literature from the heavens—strange signs blossomed everywhere in the examination hall.

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Such a scene drew gasps of amazement from the townsfolk; the sky filled with visions left them all awestruck.

Just now, Zhang Yiqi had been watching a surge of light from one such vision. He let out a mixed sigh, glanced at the wall beside him with a wry smile, shook his head, and returned to composing his own poem.

“Not bad. By now, nearly seventy scholars have succeeded. One in ten—this year’s students are of fine quality!”

Qiu Buchu, observing the proceedings below, looked on with a satisfied expression. Clearly, he was pleased with the performance in this session of the exams.

Inspector Fan nodded as well. If this year’s results were strong, his own evaluation would improve, and his diligent work would be rewarded.

“It’s already the hour of Shen. Judging by these visions, most must have been triggered by poetry or prose, don’t you think?” Qiu Buchu remarked. Inspector Fan murmured his agreement.

“Seems so. But I must say, that pillar of light just now, with its shifting figures, was truly memorable. Though it was only a twofold motion of the Literary Star, the content must have been eloquent.”

As the two discussed, the surrounding instructors whispered among themselves. In such a setting, the overall scholarly standards of the various counties became evident.

At that moment, Ouyang Hong, too, was filled with anticipation. The constant commotions below surely included students from Shiyang County.

Ouyang Hong’s hopes rested especially on Song Mu. After yesterday’s stunning performance, if Song Mu could excel again today, he might well place among the top three in this examination.

If he reached the top three, Ouyang Hong’s own evaluation and efforts would finally be acknowledged.

Thinking thus, Ouyang Hong could not help but gaze out the window toward the examination halls.

Just then, a sudden wave pulsed from the examination ground. The Literary Star overhead began to tremble violently. At the same time, in one of the cells within the exam ground, clusters of plum blossoms burst forth on the roof, their fragrance wafting through the courtyard.

Even Ouyang Hong was unconsciously enchanted by the scent, which was so pure and alluring.

The officials all paused in astonishment, then beamed with delight, looking toward the examination halls and asking in wonder,

“Whose cell is that? Such a hidden fragrance of plum blossoms—surely a poem of four or five measures of poetic energy?”

Someone posed the question, and at once a clerk was sent to investigate.

Soon, the answer was announced.

“It is Cui Kexing from Taihe County.”

“Taihe County! The renowned poet?”

Someone exclaimed in disbelief, while Taihe County’s instructor straightened with pride, stroking his beard with a smile among his peers.

The other instructors looked on with envy. This was the second fivefold stirring of the Literary Star that day. Taihe County now had nearly ten scholars—this year, they had taken the lead.

“Gentlemen, it’s pure luck. Cui Kexing has always excelled in poetry and prose; it reflects well on us.”

So spoke the Taihe County instructor, and the others, though resigned, could only shake their heads.

After all, Cui Kexing had been famous for poetry since childhood. In previous county and prefecture exams, he had produced works of great poetic energy. Now, after so long, it was no surprise that he could craft another fine poem in the provincial exam.

It was just a pity such a gifted student wasn’t from their own county.

While they mused thus, Zhan Bo, instructor from Wanan County, glanced slyly at Ouyang Hong, who looked a little nonplussed, and then chuckled.

“Lord Ouyang, did you think that poem just now was written by a student from your county?”

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At this, all eyes turned to Ouyang Hong.

Everyone recalled that Shiyang County recently produced an outstanding poet—Song Mu, whose works had twice been published in the national literary journal, making him famous across the land.

Zhan Bo’s remark was clearly meant in jest.

After all, no student from Shiyang County had yet produced a poem with a grand vision.

Ouyang Hong’s expression darkened, and he merely grunted in reply, declining to engage further.

Meanwhile, within the examination hall, Song Mu—who had been preparing to begin his next piece—also noticed the faint, strange fragrance.

He looked up, seeing one cell in the inner circle overflowing with flowers and a pervasive scent; clearly, a remarkable poem had triggered this grand vision due to the Literary Star’s influence.

Inhaling the intoxicating aroma, Song Mu couldn’t help but grin.

Ordinarily, such a vision would require an exceptionally powerful poem, but here, with the Literary Star amplifying things, the threshold was lowered, to help students better grasp the underlying meaning and thus stabilize their own cultivation.

Song Mu felt a tinge of envy, but quickly collected his thoughts, preparing to compose two more poems to help himself break through once again.

He weighted the blank paper, picked up his brush, and wrote:

“Bitter trials endured since mastering the classics; swords and spears sparse, stars scattered all around...”

As Song Mu wrote the first line, a surge of literary energy arose—but his pen faltered.

Wen Tianxiang’s “Crossing Lingdingyang” was, of course, of the highest quality—but nothing in it matched his current circumstances.

The first line spoke of Wen Tianxiang’s diligent study and success in the imperial examinations, leading to his selection as an official.

The following lines were even less relevant, describing the wars between the Song and Yuan, Wen Tianxiang's remorse over defeat, and his anxiety for the future—none of which fit the present scene.

Poems could not be copied at will; even lines that were famous in later generations were not always suitable here. Song Mu shook his head, tore off the sheet, and set it aside.

He took a deep breath and pondered for a moment. At last, a new idea dawned. With a knowing smile, he put brush to paper.

“To live as a hero among men, to die as a hero among ghosts.

To this day, I think of Xiang Yu—he refused to cross east of the river.”

“In Memory of Xiang Yu.”

As he completed the title, Song Mu’s eyes widened in surprise.

This time, what rippled from the paper was not a surge of literary energy, but a wave of tangible, undulating water ripples.

These were unlike the visions from the essay he had written the day before. The ripples spread out, making Song Mu’s heart skip a beat.

At that very moment, the altar in the center of the examination hall stirred again.

As waves rolled out, Song Mu suddenly felt his mind undergo a remarkable change.

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