Chapter Twelve: Demons on the Loose!

A furious shout echoed throughout Shiyang County, rousing the entire city from its slumber in an instant. In that same moment, a shadow hurtled towards Song Mu with deadly speed.

Having just escaped his adversary, Song Mu struggled to his feet. When he heard the shout that resounded through the county, he stared wide-eyed at the grotesque figure lying heavily wounded on the ground, and cried out in alarm:

“Demon!”

In this world, all things may become demons—humans most of all. Demonhood arises from the heart; once one succumbs, the spiritual essence of heaven and earth floods into them, manifesting their demonic form, leaving only bloodlust and savagery in their eyes.

Yet the city walls were inscribed with the works of great scholars, whose words suppressed such evils. How could a demon have entered the city?

Song Mu was shaken, but his gaze quickly turned to the fleeing carriage—his second uncle was still aboard. He rushed to give chase, concern overriding his shock.

At that moment, the ancient tome in his mind flipped open, and a line from the Song Family’s Classical Annotations flashed brightly: “A mighty wind arises, and the clouds soar.” A surge of literary energy filled him, the wind gathering at his feet, quickening his pace.

No sooner had Song Mu set off than Master Xun appeared, hastening from the rooftops and landing heavily in the street. He saw the splatters of crimson and, with a sweep of his ruler, transformed it into a wooden sword adorned with a paper slip inscribed with characters. As he spoke, lines of verse poured from his lips:

“A sword that cleaves rhinoceros and serpent, a sword that cuts jade and crystal.

A sword’s technique reaches beyond the clouds, the sword’s force battles the sun at noon.

A sword that splits the belly of the demonic serpent, a sword that sweeps away the heads of traitors!”

With each verse, the sword shone brighter, and the slip of paper transformed into radiant sword-lights that shot forth in all directions.

When his words ceased, four demons who had just risen suddenly froze, the red glow fading from their eyes.

In a moment of eerie stillness, their heads fell to the ground.

Yet the blood that trickled out was black as pitch.

Master Xun wiped the black blood from his hand, his expression turning even colder. “Wrath demons? Who wrought such wickedness?”

As he spoke, another figure swiftly descended from the sky, landing lightly a foot above the ground. He swept his gaze over the corpses, his face equally grim.

“A demon has entered the city?”

The speaker was none other than Jin Changwu, the magistrate of Shiyang County, whom Song Mu had met at the banquet earlier that day. Having heard Master Xun’s shout, he had come at once, and upon seeing the bodies, questioned them immediately.

Master Xun nodded in greeting. With a pulse of literary power, the black blood on his fingers dissipated into green smoke.

Just then, another sharp sound split the air as Kong Siqi appeared, dropping from the sky, his eyes filled with suspicion at the scene before him.

“Demons? Did something happen to Nephew Song?” he asked, picking up a half-burned lantern from the ground, the character “Kong” still faintly visible upon it.

The three men were taken aback. Master Xun looked around urgently and cried, “This is bad!”

Before they could react, a wave of energy surged from the northern avenue. Magistrate Jin raised his hand to deflect it, but was immediately startled.

“Demonic aura? Absurd! How could monsters and demons enter the city without my notice today?”

“Gentlemen, quickly, let us investigate! Something may have happened to Nephew Song!” Kong Siqi urged. The three of them darted forward, vanishing in pursuit.

Shiyang County was thrown into chaos. Dogs barked, infants wailed, the city guards beat their drums, and squads of soldiers scrambled through the streets in panic.

Meanwhile, on the northern road, Song Mu—searching for his second uncle—suddenly realized he no longer knew his whereabouts.

He had just been walking along the street, but in a blink, everything went dark, and when his eyes adjusted, his surroundings had completely changed.

Barren hills and withered cliffs, sparse moonlight, a forest shrouded in mist.

The farther Song Mu walked, the more uneasy he became, his eyes darting warily about. Yet, a strange sense of familiarity seized him.

Could this be... Going to Yanggang?

Despite years of modern education, Song Mu couldn’t help but shiver. There was nothing in his heart but fear.

He had just encountered the demons of this world, and now, in the next instant, he found himself in an indescribably uncanny place.

Trouble, it seemed, never came alone.

He halted, scanning the area for something familiar. Suddenly, he spotted a carriage parked beneath an ancient tree.

It was the very same carriage from the Kong household that had brought him here.

“Second Uncle!” Song Mu called, hurrying towards the carriage, but then abruptly stopped.

In these desolate hills, could his uncle’s carriage truly have arrived here in an instant?

Suspicion gnawed at him. Though his mind buzzed with confusion, he forced himself to remain alert, surveying his surroundings and considering his options.

The ancient book in his mind remained open, but no words appeared on its pages.

Anxious, Song Mu resolved to inspect the carriage, but as soon as he moved, the pages of the tome began to flutter wildly.

Once more, he found himself in the Song Family’s Classical Annotations, where a verse from the Songs of Chu leapt onto the page:

“You think of me, yet hesitate in doubt; thunder rumbles, and rain falls in darkness.”

It was a line from Qu Yuan’s “Nine Songs: Mountain Spirit,” traditionally used to invoke the mountain gods, neither orthodox nor benign. Yet as the words unfurled across the ancient tome, Song Mu found himself reciting them aloud.

Instantly, the literary energy within him was drained by more than half, and thunder rumbled in the heavens as torrents of rain began to fall.

Weakened, Song Mu dropped to his knees, barely upright, watching as the rain washed over the ground, cleansing the dust as if from a stone slab.

Looking about, he saw the carriage, too, being washed away like a mural on a wall.

Thunder crashed, and the world around him turned hazy and indistinct.

Then, amid the sound of falling rain, a delighted laugh rang out. Song Mu looked up to see, emerging from an alley that had suddenly revealed itself, a breathtakingly beautiful woman clad in nothing but a sheer veil, gliding towards him.

“Master Song, I’ve missed you so much these past few days I could have died,” she cooed, her peach blossom eyes brimming with charm. Song Mu even felt an intoxicating dizziness steal over him.

Realizing the strangeness of it all, he pinched his thigh hard, fighting the weakness that threatened to overwhelm him. He looked up just as the woman knelt gracefully before him.

“Master Song, that great scholar’s tome of yours is truly remarkable. In just a few days, you’ve managed to break through my enchanted realm,” she whispered, her voice lingering in his ear. Dressed in translucent silk, she reached out and lifted his chin with a slender finger.

“What a handsome young man. You make me pine for you so.”

“Who... are you?” Song Mu stared at her, a suspicion already forming in his heart. Yet, drained of literary energy, the ancient tome could do nothing for him now.

He was entirely at her mercy.

The enchanting woman leaned in, murmuring softly, “Who am I? Why, I am your beauty, Song Lang.”

As she spoke, two bushy tails unfurled behind her, and in that instant, Song Mu understood everything.

Qi Dazuo had been right—there truly was a fox spirit at Yanggang!

“Last time, your ancient tome wounded me and let you be taken away before I could act. Tonight, I finally have my chance. Someone helped me divert attention, so I’ve come for you and that precious tome.”

“A great scholar’s ancient book—if I present it to the Demon King, it will bring great fortune. Young master, my thanks.”

The fox spirit’s melodious voice rang in Song Mu’s ears, and he felt her invading his consciousness, the ancient tome barely resisting her onslaught.

Was his journey in this strange world truly to end like this?

Was he, a mere scholar, truly so useless?

Song Mu muttered to himself, when suddenly a clear, crisp female voice rang out not far away:

“So it’s just a little fox spirit. Senior Brother Wang, she’s all yours—don’t let her escape!”