Chapter 80: A Cautionary Tale for the World

Song Mu spent quite some effort with his words, finally brushing aside the matter concerning Du Sheng. Fortunately, it had not been widely spread; otherwise, if others discovered that Song Mu was the one favored by the Half-Saint, it would be uncertain whether he could even leave the examination courtyard unharmed.

He and Cui Kexing agreed to check the results together in three days, and the others, hearts still surging with excitement, made their way to their respective inns.

Master Xun spoke a few words to them outside the examination hall, then turned a blind eye, allowing the young scholars to arrange their own affairs for the day.

After all, they had just endured two grueling days of examination, having studied hard for years; a night of relaxation was not unreasonable.

Scholars had various ways of unwinding: some went to taverns or teahouses, confident in their talents, discussing their future paths with their peers; others, disappointed by their performance, vowed to return and claim victory next time. Some chose to sleep soundly, while others invited a few friends to explore the splendid city of Jizhou. Of course, there were those who sought entertainment in music halls, holding soft hands and marveling at the beauty before them.

Song Mu chose the first option, joining Kong Zong and Scholar Sun in a restaurant, ordering a few dishes and sipping wine together.

“Brother Song, now that you’ve become a scholar, you’re sure to make the list in this examination,” Sun said, raising his cup, his face full of excitement. “And with so many students from our county school achieving scholar status this time, both Master and the supervisor are truly delighted.”

Shiyang County had produced quite a number of scholars in this session, a rare achievement given its usual lackluster literary reputation. The examination was held twice every three years; previously, the county school could only produce three or five scholars per session, sometimes none at all. Yet this time, there were eleven, a result that naturally brought joy to all.

As for the reason, Sun’s thinking was straightforward. He believed it was all due to Song Mu’s literary poem, written at the county school. That poem, brimming with talent, had infused much literary spirit into every student, greatly enhancing their own.

Afterwards, Song Mu had inspired them all to study harder. And finally, on the day of the county school’s upheaval, nearly all the students had participated and witnessed the creation of another brilliant poem. The astonishing talent and grand heroism of that day had deeply moved everyone.

These intangible influences further strengthened their resolve. With such insight and composure, writing came naturally. Especially given the exam's content today, Sun was certain that many of the poems and essays written by the students were, in some way, connected to Song Mu.

Song Mu clinked cups with Sun, smiling and shaking his head. “Brother, that is everyone’s own ability; what does it have to do with me?”

Kong Zong, beside them, laughed and clinked his cup with Song Mu as well. “Song, you shouldn’t be so modest. Yesterday, while writing my essay, a heroic spirit seemed to arise in my chest, making my mind clear and my writing effortless.”

He spoke with delight, looking to Sun with excitement.

“You don’t know, brother. Even today, as I composed my argument in the examination hall, that same spirit filled me, as if I were guided by divine assistance. The feeling was truly intoxicating.”

Kong Zong spoke with growing enthusiasm. “Especially after I finished, I realized some sentences were exquisitely precise, rich with references—words like pearls strung together. On any other day, I could never have written them.”

He glanced at Song Mu with firm conviction. “So, thinking it over, I believe this is the magic of your poem.”

Song Mu listened to them, a wry smile on his face. Perhaps the poem he wrote did have some effect in this world, but it couldn’t all be credited to him. Achieving scholar status was ultimately due to their own hard work in the exam; his poem only served as a catalyst.

They ate and conversed, their spirits relaxed. Sun would soon begin his annual assessment, and chatting with Song Mu and the others tonight left him quite moved.

After their meal, Song Mu and Kong Zong wandered the streets, bought a few things, and headed toward the Kong residence.

As they walked, they continued their conversation.

“You’re buying things now—do you plan to return home immediately once the results are announced?” Kong Zong carried two items for Song Mu, asking.

Song Mu looked at the pastries in his hand and nodded with a smile. “Naturally. If I go home early, my second uncle will feel more at ease.”

Kong Zong fell silent, but Song Mu noticed his expression and asked, “What about you? Do you have other plans?”

Kong Zong nodded, a bit embarrassed. “Yes. My father wishes me to enter the prefectural academy. There, with scholars to guide me, perhaps in a few years I’ll pass the provincial exam.”

Song Mu nodded inwardly. This suited Kong Zong, whose father was the prefect, a scholar with influence. Even if Kong Zong’s ranking wasn’t high, he could probably still enter the academy. But Kong Zong’s abilities were solid, so it was almost a certainty.

Kong Zong finished and turned to Song Mu. “Brother Song, it seems you could enter the academy as well. Why not join me then?”

Song Mu paused, suddenly realizing the possibility. He’d thought about it before, but hadn’t taken it seriously. Upon reflection, entering the academy, with so many learned scholars to guide him, would be a great benefit. The advantages were clear, and Song Mu felt tempted.

Kong Zong pressed his case. “Let’s settle it, Song. We’ll enter the academy together, and look out for each other. Besides, you’ll meet many talented scholars in Jizhou, and with such connections, maybe next year we can join Sun in attempting the provincial exam.”

Kong Zong spoke with great excitement, but Song Mu remained still.

At that moment, Song Mu remembered the words he’d seen on the sandy ground in front of the examination courtyard. Someone wished to meet him at the Qiu residence, promising him an opportunity.

What kind of opportunity would that be?

Returning to the Kong residence, Song Mu washed up and lay comfortably in bed, his mind replaying the events of the examination. He felt a certain excitement, recalling the words he’d spoken to Du Sheng. He realized he ought to do something.

He rose, sat at his desk, and regarded the blank paper before him. Now, finally, he had the time; perhaps his thoughts could begin to take shape.

With this in mind, Song Mu spread out the paper, dipped his brush in ink, pursed his lips, and smiled.

“Tales of the Fox That Eats Men”

He wrote the title, and his mind seemed already composed; his brush moved swiftly, words blooming onto the page.

“In the south lies a realm of spirits, where monsters dwell. One day, a scholar travels to take the exam, and is caught in a torrential rain…”

With a goal set, Song Mu’s hand moved ever faster, black characters flying onto the white paper.

He adapted the story of the Phantom Beauty, writing in plain vernacular. The plot was familiar—a scholar and a beautiful woman, the core of their story, with a meeting between man and monster, and a chilling title to attract attention.

However, when it came to the portrayal of love between man and woman, Song Mu toned it down, instead highlighting the bloodcurdling aspects to emphasize the monster’s horror.

His aim was clear: this was a cautionary tale, meant to teach one lesson—monster is monster, ever skilled in deceit. No matter what situation a person encounters, they must not be fooled by alluring appearances.

He didn’t know how much time had passed; after twice trimming the lamp’s wick, he had produced a two- or three-thousand-word story.

His wrist ached, but he felt no sleepiness, only a lingering sense of satisfaction.

After resting for a while, Song Mu sat again and picked up his brush.

“Tale of the Demon in the Stone Wall”

…