"If Yang Ziqian hadn't been posted to Qingzhou, this job could have been pushed to him," Zhang Shen said. "Among us, he's most skilled at this."
The mountain wind swept into the room, making Chen Tai's long beard flutter. He smiled: "Jingyan, you're more suited for official life than I am."
"You old codger, are you mocking me for passing the buck?" Zhang Shen wasn't angry, wearing a rogue's grin. "If you're so capable, do it yourself. This old man is all ears."
As they were about to quarrel again, Zhang Shen's young attendant hurried in, head bowed, and reported: "Sir, your student Xu Cijiu has arrived."
Xu Cijiu? What's he doing here? Has he finished copying the Sage's Analects three hundred times? Zhang Shen nodded. "Show him in."
After the attendant left, Zhang Shen glanced at Chen Tai across the chessboard and chuckled: "Come to think of it, I recently took on a new student—this Xu Cijiu's cousin. His poetic talent is astonishing."
Li Mubai immediately added: "He's my student too."
Chen Tai looked at the one named Zhang, then at the one named Li, and a thought struck him: "The poet who wrote 'Don't worry about having no friends on the road ahead—who in the world doesn't know you?'"
Li Mubai and Zhang Shen smiled proudly.
"Hahaha..." Chen Tai laughed aloud, pointing at his two friends.
"What are you laughing at?"
"I'm laughing at you both, blinded by fame and fortune—oh, and jealousy." Chen Tairestrained his smile, half-admonishing, half-mocking: "Yang Ziqian's name will certainly be passed down through the ages because of this poem. It's enviable indeed. But couldn't you two consider—great lines are rare. How many scholars produce only a handful of good poems in their entire lives, let alone ones that make it into the history books?"
"To have produced one line like 'Don't worry about having no friends on the road ahead—who in the world doesn't know you?' was a stroke of genius, delightful to hear. And you expected more—not just one, but two poems, so you both could achieve eternal fame?"
"If you're too obsessed with worldly gain, over time, how will you sustain therighteous qi within you?"
A sound dressing-down left Li Mubai and Zhang Shen somewhat embarrassed.
They knew Chen Tai spoke the truth. Poems that endure through the ages aren't written on a whim, and the man wasn't even a scholar—he'd simply chanced upon one masterpiece, which was already heaven-sent fortune.
To expect a petty constable to produce a stream of great poems so they could leave their mark on history was indeed too much to ask.
"Youping speaks wisely," they said with a bow, then added gravely: "A scholar's threeimmortality—if we are to be remembered through the ages, it should be by walking the straight and narrow, not by shortcuts. We were in the wrong."
"To recognize one's mistake and correct it—there is no greater good," Chen Tai said with a slight nod.
Moments later, the attendant led Xu Qian and Xu Xinnian into the private room.
Both bowed simultaneously: "This student greets his teachers."
Li Mubai and Zhang Shen exchanged a glance, both surprised and delighted at Xu Qian's arrival.
"Sit!" Zhang Shen said.
"Ningyan, did you come to the academy because you have fine verses for your teacher to appraise?" Li Mubai probed.
Xu Qian shook his head. "This student came with a request."
"Speak freely."
Xu Qian explained his purpose, concealing his desire to retaliate against the Vice Minister of Revenue. He merely said that the mastermind behind the tax silver case was very likely Vice Minister Zhou, and if the man survived the Capital Evaluation, he would certainly take revenge on the Xu household.
"This..." Li Mubai glanced at Zhang Shen, who wore a similar expression of difficulty, and said helplessly: "The academy prohibits outsiders from staying overnight. It's the rule."
Scholars prized rules above all.
Xu Qian was about to plead when Xu Xinnian spoke: "But the Princess Royal stays here regularly."
Zhang Shen shook his head. "The Princess Royal—what status she holds."
Xu Xinnian nodded. "The academy prohibits outsiders from staying overnight—unless they're royalty."
Hey! This blockhead was as blunt as ever.
The three Grand Confucian Masters laughed despite themselves.
Xu Qian nearly burst out laughing. Er Lang's sharp tongue hadn't changed a bit.
Li Mubai shook his head. "Jingyan, this student of yours—I'm rather looking forward to the day he reaches Destiny Fulfillment."
That would be terrifying... Zhang Shen's mouth twitched.
Only Chen Tai studied Xu Qian with a smile. At this moment, he interjected: "Are you Xu Ningyan?"
"This student is," replied Xu Qian, wearing a scholar's robe and pretending to be one of them.
"I hear you have considerable talent for poetry. How about this—if you can compose a poem on the spot that satisfies all three of us, I will personally ensure the women of the Xu household may stay at the academy and guarantee their safety."
Permitting the Xu women to stay wasn't the key point. His final words—guarantee their safety—were.
That was precisely why the two brothers had come.
Xu Xinnian's face brightened. He turned to his cousin: "Brother..."
He was both elated and anxious. Writing a poem wasn't difficult—every scholar could produce a competent verse. The challenge was satisfying three Grand Confucian Masters.
Was that hard?
It was impossibly hard.
Write a poem? You're trying to make me freeload off you! Xu Qian didn't agree immediately but considered carefully: "Should I write freely, or follow a fixed theme?"
The three Masters exchanged glances. Zhang Shen said: "Urging to Study!"
Of course it couldn't be a free composition—otherwise, I'd whip out another timeless masterpiece in a heartbeat... Xu Qian sighed inwardly.
At the same time, he felt relieved, because this topic wasn't beyond his reach. His meager literary knowledge could still handle it.
The words "Urging to Study" first brought to mind the essay he'd read in high school. But since it needed to be a poem, that classical prose wouldn't do.
"In books there are houses of gold; in books there are beauties like jade!"
This line, passed down through the centuries, immediately surfaced in his mind.
In the realm of study encouragement, few poems could rival its fame.
He was about to use this poem to freeload off the three Masters when he suddenly thought of White Deer Academy's two-hundred-year plight.
"This poem—wasn't it written by a Song dynasty emperor? It carries the taint of fame and profit, while the academy's graduates have always had adifficult path in officialdom."
"Cijiu sighed when he passed the provincial exam, wondering which remote backwater he'd be posted to..."
"If I copy this poem, won't it rub salt in the academy's wounds? It would backfire..."
Seeing his prolonged silence, Xu Xinnian's frown deepened. Of the three Masters, Zhang Shen and Li Mubai were eagerly anticipating, while Chen Tai sipped his tea with a smile.
Xu Qian collected his thoughts and cupped his fists. "This student will humbly try. Cijiu, grind the ink for me."
Xu Xinnian found brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, set them on the desk, and personally ground the ink for his cousin. He held the brush in one hand, rolled up his sleeve with the other, dipped the tip in the ink, and turned to offer the brush.
My terrible calligraphy won't embarrass me... No, I can't do calligraphy at all... Xu Qian grumbled internally but assumed a scholar's pose of rhetorical passion and declared: "Cijiu will write for me."
Xu Xinnian nodded and sat upright at the desk.
"Three watches of lamplight, five watches of dawn's rooster."
"Truly the time for a man to read."
"With black hair, not knowing diligence in learning."
"With white head, only then regretting the lateness of study!"
Xu Xinnian finished writing, set down the brush, and stared at the seven-character lines in elegant script on the rice paper, his eyes blazing with excitement, his expression slightly moved.
The room fell silent. Xu Xinnian savored the poem's lingering resonance. The three Grand Confucian Masters hurried to the desk, staring silently at the paper.
Staring in silence.