Chapter Fourteen: The Golden Finger Inherited from the Ancestors!

Seeing that Song Mu was unharmed, everyone finally breathed a sigh of relief. The intervention of Wang Xiwen from the Celestial Guard had surprised them all. Yet what troubled them further was how this fox demon general had evaded the suppression of the city’s inscription, and where those four demon men had come from.

Master Xun personally escorted Song Mu and the already unconscious Song Liangda home. Jin Changwu and Kong Siqi lingered on the street for a moment, waiting until the local militia arrived with their troops. Jin Changwu, however, wore a dark expression as he eyed the county constable, Pan Shun, who had arrived late.

“Forgive me, Magistrate. Today, I lingered at Lord Kong’s residence and drank too much, which is why I am late,” Pan Shun said, bowing deeply as soon as he stepped out of the carriage. His words were still tinged with the haze of intoxication, causing Jin Changwu to swallow his anger.

“Constable Pan, this matter is no trivial affair. Though the demon men and fox demon have been slain, I expect you to investigate thoroughly!” Jin Changwu demanded. “Find out who tried to harm Song Mu—who dared to commit murder under my very nose!”

Jin Changwu was truly infuriated. The Celestial Guard had only recently submitted a memorial to the Emperor regarding the literary lineage, and today a member of that very guard had saved a descendant of the literary bloodline from an assassination attempt right in his city.

Song Mu had just composed a poem of extraordinary talent and begun to make a name for himself, only to encounter this calamity. Had they arrived any later, Song Mu—a descendant of the literary bloodline—would have died before the Celestial Guard and himself, and at best, Jin Changwu’s official evaluation would suffer; at worst, he might lose his post altogether.

He had every reason to be furious. The magistrate’s anger put the entire county office on edge, and the officials immediately began investigating through the night.

As Pan Shun hurried away, passing the carriage containing the demon men’s corpses, his expression grew noticeably somber.

…

Meanwhile, after seeing Master Xun off, Song Mu quickly returned to his room, shut the doors and windows, and sat cross-legged on his bed with a grave expression. With eyes closed, he sought to calm his mind and once again saw in his mind the “Compendium of Ancient and Modern Poetry.”

Having just survived a battle, the ancient book seemed to have undergone some transformation. Its pages were now rapidly flipping—but what was being activated was the absorbed “Annotations on Ancient Sayings of the Song Clan,” left by Song Mu’s ancestor.

He felt the literary energy he had painstakingly gathered being voraciously absorbed by the ancient book, its characters shifting at a dizzying pace. The content of the “Annotations on Ancient Sayings of the Song Clan” was being quickly broken down; the ancient sayings vanished one by one, replaced by their annotations, which began to float and rapidly reorganize.

Song Mu could only feel the literary energy he had just restored being drawn away, but the rearrangement of the text was not yet complete.

After a long wait, when his literary energy was nearly depleted, Song Mu finally witnessed a change. The five characters “Annotations on Ancient Sayings of the Song Clan” had transformed into: “New Method of Thought Power—by Song Wenrong.”

…

Seven characters shone brilliantly on the title page, and Song Mu stared in astonishment.

The very first line was enough to stir the world: “To gather literary power: Grand Scholar Zhang Ce said it begins with a scholar, and I agree. But to gather thought power: all great scholars, ancient and modern, claim it requires innate talent. Yet after years of research, I believe thought power may be acquired even from the youngest pupils.”

Thought power was another form of energy within literati, akin to mental strength. Acquiring it was exceedingly difficult—among all scholars, less than one in ten possessed it.

Yet here, his ancestor Song Wenrong claimed that even young students could obtain it. If anyone else had made such a claim, they would be laughed out of the room, but the words of a former Grand Academician carried the weight of truth.

To gather thought power—even as a pupil? Song Mu rubbed his eyes in disbelief and hurriedly read on.

The further he read, the more astonished he became, his face reflecting both wonder and deep emotion.

The assembled annotations described a method for cultivating thought power that he had never heard of; it suggested that thought power need not depend solely on talent but could arise through achieving mastery as a scholar.

To “achieve mastery” meant to excel in poetry and literature, to be able to recite texts backward and forward, using literary energy to stimulate the mind’s thought power.

In other words, a pupil could cultivate thought power by visualizing ancient and modern works in their mind and attempting to recite them simultaneously, backward from the last line. One mistake or hesitation, and the process must begin anew.

Once mastered, one could visualize even more ancient texts—four, eight, sixteen at a time. Song Wenrong’s highest achievement was simultaneously reciting one hundred and twenty books backward.

This truly required no innate talent; with deliberate effort and diligent practice, it was entirely possible to succeed!

His ancestor had devised such a method, and it had been hidden within a simple annotation. The “Compendium of Ancient and Modern Poetry,” having drawn upon these ancient sayings multiple times, had now unlocked this earth-shattering secret for all to see.

For a moment, Song Mu felt he had touched something extraordinary in this world.

His literary energy was nearly exhausted, making it difficult to focus on the ancient book in his mind; reluctantly, he withdrew from that state.

Opening his eyes, Song Mu took a deep breath and gazed into the night outside, his heart racing.

After a moment, he chose two shorter texts to recite several times, then followed the method described, meditating and reciting with determination. After more than an hour of effort, he finally completed the recitation by chance, and at that moment, his mind felt extraordinarily clear.

Though thought power had not yet formed, he could sense the exhilarating activity within his mind, which delighted him. The legacy of his ancestor was indeed remarkable.

…

Song Mu now recalled the peculiar ability of the ancient book to dismantle and assimilate writings. Inspired, he decided to experiment.

He picked up the book authored by today’s top scholar, which he had received from Master Xun. He had already read it once; though it surely paled in comparison to the works left by his ancestor, he could sense its unique insights.

After all, it was written by a successful scholar, and Song Mu was curious to see whether the ancient book would absorb it, and whether it might unlock something similar.

He pressed the book to his forehead and closed his eyes, visualizing the ancient book in his mind.

The ancient book stirred at his urging, but nothing else happened.

Song Mu waited a long while, but the ancient book did not absorb the new text. He set the book down, stroking his chin in thought.

It seemed, then, that the ancient book would only absorb works penned by academicians or grand scholars, or perhaps it selected only those writings deemed truly extraordinary.

Not getting the desired result brought little disappointment. With such a tremendous discovery, he already felt as though he had gained a second golden key.

This ancient book likely had a mysterious origin. That day at Yanggang, it was what had repelled the fox demon; it could not only record poetry, but also produce such marvels. No doubt, it would reveal even more wondrous uses in the future.

For a while, Song Mu’s mind was restless.

After his excitement subsided, he calmed and set his sights on a new goal.

The immediate priority was to accumulate literary energy, review his studies, and read widely.

He had only been a pupil for a little over a year, and his chances of passing the provincial exam to become a scholar were slim.

Yet after witnessing the heroic bearing of Li Mo and others, Song Mu’s inner fire had been kindled.

What could be more alluring than becoming a true master?

Especially now, with the path of thought power laid out before him. If he did not strive, would he not betray the great hopes placed upon him?

Song Mu pondered, quietly reciting to himself:

“Celestial Guard—they slay demons and purge evil?”

Reflecting on the day’s events, Song Mu’s heart was filled with an ambitious dream.

In this life, to live, one must be extraordinary; to die…—bah, why curse oneself for no reason?

…