Song Mu felt a warm current surge in his heart at this moment, and Mr. Fan also told Song Mu the reason in detail.
"When I was seventeen years old, I went to Fujian with my uncle. At a poetry meeting for praying for rain, I composed a poem about the Four Contests of Talents. The prefect praised me very much, so he wrote this poem himself.
The poem was given to me."
Mr. Fan said this, but his expression was a little frustrated.
"It's a pity that I joined the scholar program at the age of sixteen, but I have only been a scholar for the rest of my life, and I have failed to live up to your high expectations."
"I am too old and no longer have the strength to activate this poem originally written by Jinshi. Now if you activate it, you may be able to lift a person with the power of a single blow."
Mr. Fan said movingly, still a little excited at the moment, and coughed twice violently.
Song Mu had already tightly grasped the paper in his hand.
This now gray-haired old man was once a high-spirited young man. In those years when he was full of expectations for the future, he was respected by others.
The other party's words seemed to travel through a time and space tunnel. At this moment, Song Mu seemed to see the once glorious Song family, with countless literati and officials throughout the entire Wen Dynasty.
At that moment, the surge of blood made Song Mu's heart even more excited.
Behind him, the weasel demon's squeaking voice came again from outside the ancestral hall, and Kong Zong had already shouted loudly towards Song Mu.
Different voices echoed in Song Mu's ears at this moment. Song Mu raised his head and took a closer look at Mr. Fan who was sitting on the bamboo chair, and then he bowed down and held his hands respectfully.
"Old sir, thank you very much."
After speaking, Song Mu touched the head of the little girl in front of him, then turned around with a smile.
At that moment, literary power surged from Song Mu's palm and poured into the pale yellow silk cloth at an unprecedented speed.
The next moment, under Mr. Fan's disbelieving gaze, the silk paper in Song Mu's hand seemed to have finally been activated. Countless literary energy gathered from all around, surging crazily around Song Mu.
The literary spirit swept through the entire ancestral hall like a strong wind, and the rich literary spirit enveloped Song Mu heavily.
At this moment, Song Mu looked like a young man returning from the literary world, making everyone's eyes widen.
Even Mr. Fan was looking at Song Mu at this moment, with an extremely surprised expression on his face, and muttering to himself in a daze.
"This...this doll, what exactly is it?"
A scholar next to him turned to look at him and said solemnly: "Old man, you may not know that this Song Mu..."
"But he comes from the oldest cultural heritage in our Shiyang County. He is the seventeenth generation grandson of the Song family in Shiyang."
"Shiyang Song Family?" When Mr. Fan heard these words, his deeply wrinkled eyes were full of energy, which seemed to bring back a memory in his heart.
"The Shiyang Song family is the bloodline of Lord Song?"
"Old sir, what are you talking about?"
"Song Kedi, the former magistrate of Fuzhou. It was he who gave me that poem. This gentleman once said that he was from Shiyang County, Jiangnan West Road." Mr. Fan said slowly, and the scholar's face showed up.
However.
"That's it. This is the only lineage of the Song family in Shiyang County."
Upon hearing this, Mr. Fan's face was a little moved, and he even murmured to himself.
"No wonder, no wonder, I didn't expect that in this mysterious world, I would be able to meet the descendants of that adult here."
"All of this is God's will."
Song Mu, who turned around at this moment, felt that the literary energy in his body was surging crazily. After just a moment, he felt that what he was holding in his right hand was not a piece of silk.
But a ball of fire.
Wenliwenqi rushed into it crazily, more like the wind helping a fire, burning more and more.
Even Kong Zong, who saw Song Mu like this, stopped unconsciously and looked at him with disbelief.
Song Mu raised his eyes and looked at each other, then holding the ball of fire in his hand, he slowly crossed the threshold of the ancestral hall.
The squeaking sound came again, and this time, Song Mu's mental and literary power surged at the same time.
The power of thought crazily spread outwards and poured crazily towards the paper in his hand.
And at that moment, even when Song Mu was not aware of it, the jade ring in Song Mu's arms began to become radiant, and it was at that moment that the ferocious power of thought seemed to find its direction and began to interact with Wen.
All the power poured into this withered yellow paper.
Every time Song Mu took a step, he felt that the world in front of him suddenly opened up a little, and the ancestral hall behind him had quickly moved away.
In an instant, the foreign land has become a reality!
"One day the breeze comes, and the support trees turn into golden crows."
Song Mu softly sang this poem. This poem, originally written by Jinshi, was so powerful that it was unbelievable that it was driven by the bloodline disciples.
This is the realm pursued by literati all over the world.
After the father dies, the son succeeds, and the poems will be passed down to thousands of generations forever!
The poetry sect in the world has become more prosperous because of this!
A poem triggered a majestic vision. In just a moment, Song Mu and the weasel demon were the only ones left in the world.
This was the first time Song Mu clearly saw what this guy looked like.
With a yellow head and a white body, he was about the size of a yellow dog. He looked a little weird. His huge and slender tail had a large section broken off. At this moment, on his narrow and pointed face, a pair of vicious eyes were staring at Song Mu.
It hesitated at this moment.
Although it has the strength of a demon general, it also knows that persimmons must be picked when they are soft, and this is a trick it has been using for hundreds of years.
It couldn't defeat the powerful human being, so it set its sights on this village.
After testing for a long time, it felt that these literati with the realm of demon generals were no threat.
Just like that, it finally made the decision to kill these guys and use these human blood essences to store power for itself in order to avenge its own tail-cutting.
But before everything could proceed smoothly, the guy in front of him gave him a head-on blow.
There was actually a burning aura on his body, and that aura could even penetrate his own attacks, ignoring his own incarnation and blowing him away in just a moment.
At that moment, it also retreated in its heart, but thinking about the tail that would never come back, its anger broke through everything.
But at this moment, when it saw the young man with strange powers appearing in front of it, and the unknown object gathering terrifying power in his hand, it felt a little scared again.
There was a flame rising in his hand, and the flame also rose in his eyes.
It was scared and wanted to retreat, but at that moment, the surroundings completely changed.
This is obviously the ancestral hall, but the ancestral hall is receding infinitely, while the land in front of it is extending endlessly.
And that boy had already walked to the middle of the field.
"You shouldn't hurt people."
A low voice came from Song Mu's mouth. The weasel demon looked up at this moment and saw the face of the other party with gnashed teeth.
"Don't even try to hurt my companions!"
As he finished speaking, he saw the flame in the opponent's hand rising even more, as if he could no longer grasp it.
His robe was stirred up, and he raised his right hand high, revealing a long and slender arm under the hanging robe.