A Timeless Poem Turns the Tide

Chen Geng's discourse was anything but ordinary.

As a historian, he began by drawing everyone into the storms and clouds of history.

In the early days of Great Cang's founding, the Devil Race invaded. Of the populace, not even one in ten remained; all five paths suffered wounds. Amid that chaotic age, heroes drew their swords, rising beneath the blue heavens, and fought bloody battles on the battlefield for humanity.

There were iron-blooded armies!

There were wandering heroes of the martial world!

And there were even literary geniuses!

Those of the literary path emerged from their studies, bore the sacred path upon their shoulders, raised their Golden Brushes, and stood by the desert's edge, upon the shores of the four seas, beneath the vault of heaven, amid the turbulent clouds flying across.

The literary path had never been a weak path!

The literary path was a heroic path!

Generation after generation, scholars inherited the sacred path from above and connected with the people below. They used their brushes as swords and crimson blood as their foundation. They roamed unhindered across the world, guarding the patch of blue sky above humanity's heads...

The Great Confucians of the Hanlin Academy were boiling with passion!

The pedestrians in the streets were boiling with passion!

The scholars within their studies stepped outside, as if they had returned once more to that iron-blooded battlefield of old and rediscovered where the sacred path lay within their hearts.

The voices in the taverns gradually quieted, and countless scholars silently listened to the ancient, bold voice coming from the Hanlin Academy.

History had memories, and history had echoes. The heroes of the literary path who had once chronicled the turmoil of chaotic times had their names engraved upon Green History, while their spirits roamed the Sea of Literature.