Chapter Thirty-Nine: Sudden Upheaval in the City!

Leaving Lady Zhou’s private chamber and returning to the banquet, Song Mu became the center of attention. He had accomplished what everyone else had longed for: giving Registrar Zhou a moment of pride, composing such poetry, and winning his admiration. It was certain that Song Mu would soon be a figure of significance in Shiyang County. From then on, countless people sought to befriend him. By the time Song Mu stepped out of the tavern, his sleeves were nearly soaked—drenched with wine from the many toasts. He was grateful for the advantages of ancient attire and for skills he had accidentally picked up; otherwise, he would have been as drunk as Kong Zong, who staggered beside him. Helping the coachman settle Kong Zong into the carriage, Song Mu bade farewell to several friends, politely declined the carriage arranged by the Zhou family, and excused himself, saying his family would pick him up. He took a different route.

As he rounded a street corner, Song Mu quietly used his spiritual sense to scan his surroundings and gradually slowed his walk. Soon, a figure appeared in a shadowy nook nearby. Curious, Song Mu turned to look.

“Young scholar, you were truly in high spirits at Jadeite Hall today,” came the melodious voice—it was Li Mo’er, still dressed in her page’s uniform, though her face had reverted to the familiar features Song Mu knew.

Song Mu examined her closely, unable to suppress a smile. “Miss Mo’er, what do you really look like? And how old are you, exactly?”

“This is my actual appearance. Earlier, I used my literary power to change my looks a bit. As for my age…” Li Mo’er smiled, a hint of mischief in her expression. “Anyway, next year my father will let me leave the Celestial Guard.”

“Leave? Leave to do what?” Song Mu asked, puzzled. Li Mo’er didn’t answer, but instead said, “You’d best get home early, young scholar. Make sure your doors and windows are shut tight. Tonight, Shiyang County won’t be very peaceful.”

Song Mu’s heart skipped a beat, his thoughts pulled back with a touch of anxiety. “Does Registrar Zhou really have something wrong?”

“Hard to say. The birthday banquet will go smoothly, but it’s not as simple as you imagine. Go home, sleep soundly—by tomorrow it’ll be over.” With that, Li Mo’er turned and melted into the darkness.

Song Mu hurriedly called after her, “Miss Mo’er, please… take care.”

Li Mo’er glanced back, flashing a crisp smile. “Don’t worry, young scholar. I doubt anyone could easily harm me.” With those words, she vanished into the night. Song Mu stared at the spot where she disappeared, clenched his fists tight. His helplessness only underscored his weakness in this era.

Strength! Strength! Improving his abilities was what he needed most.

With this resolve, Song Mu turned toward home.

When he arrived, his second uncle was waiting in the courtyard. Seeing Song Mu return, reeking of wine, his uncle scurried about, fussing over him.

---

After washing up and changing into fresh clothes, Song Mu returned to his room. He spread out paper and brush, hoping to write something, but his mind was empty—restless, unable to settle.

He glanced at the beam where Li Mo’er’s hammock used to hang; it was gone. This time, she had taken everything with her. Song Mu felt a faint sense of loss once more.

No matter how he tried to redirect his thoughts to writing, it was as if something tugged at his nerves, leaving his mind unsettled. After several attempts, Song Mu sighed, shook his head, and stood to go outside.

He washed his face in the courtyard. Though late summer in Shiyang County remained stifling, the camphor tree brought relief—few mosquitoes, and Song Mu dragged a chair out to sit beneath its shade.

A gentle breeze helped calm his agitated spirit. Gazing up at the starry sky and the crescent moon, Song Mu pondered the days ahead. In a few days, he would depart for the prefectural city. The county examination would be mid-August, followed by the announcement of results, so he might not return until early September.

The expenses for the journey were settled now. He would travel with Kong Zong and Scholar Sun. Kong Zong had invited him to stay together. The examination hall would provide all the necessary ink, paper, and brushes; he only needed to bring some food and personal items.

Having not taken the exam in years, Song Mu was invested in the process—there was even a faint excitement. He had only read about such journeys in books, but now he would experience it firsthand.

Thinking thus, Song Mu found himself reminiscing over the fragments of his past.

Drowsiness crept in. His eyelids grew heavy, and he stretched lazily, preparing to return to bed.

But at that moment, a long, low howl echoed from a distant place—clearly the cry of a wolf, followed by other bestial roars.

The sound was drawn-out, lingering in the air, unsettling Song Mu. Before he could pinpoint its source, deep, rhythmic drumbeats rumbled forth, then came the resonant tolling of a bronze bell.

“Dong—”

That was the warning bell atop the city tower—so tall it required three men to encircle it. Its clang reverberated through all of Shiyang County, and a faint glow now shone from the distant darkness. Song Mu saw it was the pavilion on the north city wall.

The Wen Ascension Pavilion was lit, the warning bell sounded, and with the beastly roars, Song Mu sprang up, sensing trouble.

Sure enough, the city erupted. Lights flared in his uncle’s room. Song Liangda, hurriedly throwing on clothes, rushed outside. From the courtyard, he saw the pavilion’s glow and his expression changed.

“Are monsters invading?!”

Song Mu stepped forward, frowning at the scene. Since arriving in this world, he had never witnessed anything like it.

Inside, Madam Zhu dressed and came out, urging Song Mu and Song Liangda to return indoors. They nodded and made to go in, but suddenly, from the neighboring courtyard came a non-human roar, a woman’s cry for help, and the shrill wailing of children.

“What’s happening? That sounds like Sister Lotus’s voice,” Madam Zhu exclaimed, her face pale with worry. Song Liangda stopped, hurrying toward the courtyard wall. Song Mu rushed after him, scrambling over broken bricks to peer into the neighbor’s yard.

---

Song Mu’s eyes widened in shock.

In the neighboring courtyard, Uncle Lin Bo was gripping his wife Sister Lotus’s throat with both hands, hair wild, mouth uttering guttural, beast-like roars. His son and daughter tried to pull him away, but the burly man was immovable.

Sister Lotus struggled desperately, her pleas barely audible. Song Liangda’s eyes hardened; he quickly climbed the wall.

“Mu, hurry up! Help restrain Uncle Lin!” Song Liangda called out.

But Song Mu had already vaulted ahead, his tall figure crossing the yard in several strides. He grabbed Lin Bo’s arm, yanking it aside, only to see Lin Bo’s face purple, teeth bared, twisted and monstrous.

The two children shrieked in terror.

Song Liangda, hurrying over, shuddered violently and nearly fell.

“Is Uncle Lin possessed?!”

Song Mu’s mind raced. He circled behind Lin Bo, locked his arms around the man’s neck, legs hooked around his waist, and shouted to Song Liangda.

“Uncle, save Sister Lotus!”

Song Liangda recovered, prying at Lin Bo’s hands, while the children tugged at his arms. Song Mu gritted his teeth.

“Hold tight!” Lin Bo’s strength was immense, wild and frenzied, and even Song Mu struggled to keep him subdued.

Desperate, Song Mu summoned his spiritual power, forcing it to envelop Lin Bo, murmuring the Clear Brightness poem.

“Let no dust… sully the soul.”

As he finished, Song Mu felt Lin Bo’s grip loosen. He pulled Lin Bo backward, toppling to the ground. Sister Lotus coughed, the children clung to her, crying.

Song Liangda rushed over, staring blankly at Song Mu.

“Mu, what’s happened to Uncle Lin?”

“I used the Clear Brightness poem to temporarily restrain him. Uncle, fetch a rope—bind him and take him to the Teacher’s residence.”

“Right, right,” Song Liangda replied, quickly finding hemp rope. Together, they tied up Lin Bo.

Sister Lotus, now breathing again, sobbed quietly as Madam Zhu comforted her.

“My husband… I don’t know what happened. After returning from the shop, he complained of chest tightness—I thought he had heatstroke, so I made plum soup for him and let him cool off in the courtyard. Who knew that when I came out to cover him, he suddenly lunged at me—not a word, just tried to strangle me.”

As her words faded, more screams and cries echoed from nearby.

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