Chapter 5: Chapter Five: The Prophecy

“Splash splash splash!”

Torrential rain “pitter-patter” pounded the eaves and the courtyard’s blue stone slabs; the thin peach tree swayed against wind and rain, while the flowers and grass by the wall were nourished by the downpour.

Lu Fang sat before his desk, gazing out through the open window at the cold rain falling, a light breeze brushing his face and stirring his hair.

One autumn rain brings one chill.

The autumn in Po County had already grown somewhat cold.

Unlike the big cities of his past life, where people could still wear short sleeves at this time.

“Half a day of idle ease, like a dream watching the shifting clouds.”

Lu Fang sighed aloud—these two lines suited his current situation perfectly, as if he were living in a dream.

In his past life, he had spent twenty-four unremarkable years; he studied Chinese literature in university, then joined a company developing an app for “Tang and Song poetry,” where he annotated ancient poems and selected illustrations for half a year.

The app company specializing in ancient poetry and verse went bankrupt; he was forced to join a new media company, primarily writing “copy” and handling operations.

That new media company collapsed a year later, and Lu Fang became a freelancer, posting online videos of his daily “calligraphy practice” and “ancient poetry” to barely make ends meet.

Waking up in this fantasy world of the Great Zhou Dynasty was, for Lu Fang, not entirely a bad thing.

He had few attachments in his past life—unmarried, no girlfriend; he had an older brother and a younger sister, both more accomplished, and his parents’ care required no concern from him.

As the saying goes: Heaven has endowed me with talents for a reason!

He felt no sense of purpose, as if he had merely been born to fill a quota.

Arriving in this bizarre world, his first feeling was ecstatic delight, followed only by a faint flicker of unease.

Fortunately, he had the Ink Brush Book Realm at his side; his future was assured.

But one matter left him deeply uneasy.

He had assumed the ghost that harmed his former body was mere bad luck, but last night, after hearing County Magistrate Zhao’s words, he learned there was a hidden mastermind behind it.

As the saying goes: A gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall!

He did not know the cause, nor the stakes involved.

This uncertainty prickled at him like thorns in his back.

‘I must quickly gain more book fragrance and acquire more books.’ Lu Fang had not received any books from the Ink Brush Book Realm last night, and he now understood the importance of book fragrance.

How could he get more people to read “Liaozhai Yi Zhi Nie Xiaoqian”?

As Lu Fang strained his mind for a viable solution, a young servant hurried over, holding an oiled paper umbrella, and bowed slightly:

“Young Master Lu, Magistrate Zhao requests your presence in his study.”

Lu Fang replied, “Alright,” and followed the servant through narrow alleys, past winding corridors lined with blooming flowers, turning east and west until they reached a two-story pavilion, where a refined study lay on its eastern side.

On the armchairs outside the study sat County Magistrate Zhao and a woman dressed in a dark blue Confucian scholar’s robe.

Magistrate Zhao’s lips moved slightly as he whispered:

“Lu Fang, this is Li Yu, a fifth-rank female Confucian scholar of the Wenyuan Academy—do not dare to be disrespectful.”

Li Yu’s elegant eyes studied Lu Fang and she asked softly: “Did you write ‘Liaozhai Yi Zhi Nie Xiaoqian’?”

Lu Fang nodded with a smile, and in that glance, he noticed the female scholar was around twenty-two or twenty-three, her skin whiter than snow.

Her black hair was loosely tied up, her delicate face flushed with a faint pink hue.

In her hands she held a “miniature” wine flask, and the study was filled with a faint scent of osmanthus wine.

Li Yu’s expression betrayed clear admiration:

“In ancient times, there were idle writings like ‘The Book of Mountains and Seas’ and ‘Zhuangzi’s Butterfly Dream,’ considered elegant literature—but such elegant works are as rare as phoenix feathers or unicorn horns, and no one has ever been known to summon a Book Spirit. Magistrate Zhao says you summoned a Book Spirit from this elegant work?”

Since ancient times, elegant literature has been crafted by sages at great personal cost.

Elegant literature is unrelated to cultivation realm—anyone can write it, even non-Confucians.

But gaining heavenly recognition as true elegant literature is exceedingly difficult.

Elegant literature, in this world, is writing recognized by Heaven’s Dao—reading it regularly grants the chance to gain talent qi or various supernatural powers.

‘This female scholar is so certain—she must be right. Any book I obtain from the Ink Brush Book Realm, once written, becomes “elegant literature.”’

From the “Ink Dot” in the Ink Brush Book Realm, Lu Fang learned that when others read his books, they may gain book fragrance and the book’s unique supernatural power.

Aside from readers being unable to gain righteous qi or talent qi, this still aligned with some traits of elegant literature.

Moreover, when others read Lu Fang’s “elegant literature” and gain book fragrance and supernatural power, he gains it too.

“Liaozhai Yi Zhi Nie Xiaoqian” is short; even if someone reads it, they may not grasp anything substantial.

But the Ink Brush Book Realm holds many more books—perhaps…

Lu Fang suppressed his inner joy, remembered the female scholar’s question, and summoned the Book Spirit Yan Chixia, giving a brief introduction.

Li Yu nodded repeatedly and warned:

“The toad spirit that used ghosts to harm you was slain by me this morning deep in the mountains. For now, do not leave Po County. If all goes well, the imperial court will summon all those named Lu Fang to the capital.”

Lu Fang hesitated: “Toad spirit? To the capital?”

Li Yu lifted her “miniature wine flask,” sipped the osmanthus wine, and spoke calmly: “Yes. To the capital.”

“By the way, you still don’t know what’s going on.”

“You must be confused—why would a ghost target you? Why were you protected in the county magistrate’s office?”

“It’s rather amusing.”

“The Yaozu seer, Wan Shu Wang, failed his thunder tribulation three months ago. Before dying, he left a prophecy.”

“Restore Zhou’s glory, two mouths, one square.”

“All spirits cling to life, Zhou Jin shall rise.”

“These four lines are the origin of all this.”

After listening, Lu Fang pondered briefly and suddenly understood: the first two lines of Wan Shu Wang’s prophecy meant the one who would restore Zhou’s prosperity was “two mouths, one square.”

Two mouths and one square—that’s “Lu Fang.”

No wonder Master Lu had said to bring all those named Lu Fang to the county office for protection.

The last two lines were also easy to interpret.

“All spirits” could refer to humans, but coming from the Yaozu seer Wan Shu Wang, paired with the next line “Zhou Jin shall rise,” it clearly meant non-human races.

The Great Zhou Dynasty has long clashed with Yaozu .

Yet in recent decades, the Yaozu have grown quieter; outwardly they appear peaceful, but secretly they still harbor hatred.

With Wan Shu Wang’s prophecy released, it would be strange if the Yaozu did nothing.

“His Majesty possesses benevolence, allowing mountain and river spirits to dwell under Zhou’s rule and granting them protection under Zhou law. These traitorous beasts must now be purged.”

The female Confucian scholar Li Yu’s face darkened with anger, and her next words confirmed Lu Fang’s suspicions.

Across the Great Zhou, all regions were on guard against “demon barbarians”; the Yaozu had allied with mountain and river spirits, using ghosts to harm people.

But the operation was too vast, involving too many Yaozu and spirits.

Leaks inevitably occurred, alerting the imperial court, which then dispatched forces to exterminate the rogue Yaozu and spirits.

Another person named Lu Fang in a neighboring county suffered the same fate—his ghost also asked what treasures he possessed.”

After tracking the ghost, Li Yu discovered it was controlled by a toad spirit dwelling in a deep mountain at the border between Po County and the neighboring county, and she slew it on the spot.

“No wonder the ghost kept asking me what treasures the Lu family possessed.”

Lu Fang frowned.

In this world, toad spirits were infamous for their greed.

Presumably, after receiving orders from the Yaozu to act quietly, the toad spirit had planned to slowly exploit the situation while secretly seeking personal gain.

When that failed, it ordered the ghost to kill him outright.

“These Yaozu scoundrels dare to defy the Great Zhou!”

Lu Fang’s heart surged with a perfect Song dynasty poem, perfectly suited to this moment; his spirit swelled with righteous fervor, his back straightened, and he spoke solemnly: “I am unworthy, but I have a ‘Demon-Slaying Poem’ I must voice.”