Longevity from Liao Zhai

Chapter 159 My Heart is Broken
Qianzhou City, Meng Family.

Meng Jiucheng became famous two hundred years ago, and his cultivation level broke through to the third level also two hundred years ago.

Before he became a third-rank official, Meng Jiusheng was a poor scholar with few relatives at home. Even relatives would take a detour, and dogs would not want to come to the Meng family.

Meng Jiusheng is still a bachelor in his twenties. He has no money or fame and cannot afford to marry a wife.

It was not until he was in his twenties that Meng Jiusheng suddenly became enlightened after being kicked in the head by a donkey. He was able to write good poems and even broke through to the third level.

Ever since Meng Jiusheng broke through to the third rank and wrote a good poem that year, he quickly became famous and won the prince's daughter.

Because of a donkey, Meng Jiusheng reached the peak of his life and married a beautiful, rich and beautiful woman.

The Meng family started to grow with Meng Jiusheng.

Two hundred years later, the Meng family had been passed down for ten generations. The Meng family also became a well-known wealthy family in Qianzhou County. There were nearly a hundred scholars in the family, and dozens of officials of all sizes.

There were about two hundred young people standing in front of Meng Jiusheng.

The young men of the Meng family lined up in several rows according to their cultivation levels. In the front were three Confucian seventh-rank people, and at the end were those who had not yet entered the rank.

"Where is He Tang?" Meng Jiusheng asked.

Meng Hetang, eighteen years old, became famous at a young age. He could write poetry when he was young and was the leader among the younger generation of the Meng family.

Although he is only 18 years old, Meng Hetang has already reached the sixth rank of Confucianism. To reach the sixth rank of Confucianism at such a young age is an outstanding talent in Confucianism.

The younger generation and even the older generation of the Meng family all acknowledged that Meng Hetang was the one with the best chance of being the next to enter the third rank.

Meng Hetang was also very famous in Qianzhou City. His greatest talent was that he could compose a poem within seven steps. No matter what the topic was, he could always compose a good poem within seven steps.

Because of this talent and gift, all the dignitaries in Qianzhou City like this talented man.

Meng Hetang is talented, but arrogant. He once said: "Fan Shiyi has 50% of the world's talent, I have 40%, and the rest of the world's talent has 10%."

Although Meng Hetang was arrogant, he had the capital to be arrogant. Talented people from other states and counties, including the capital, came to challenge Meng Hetang, but all failed.

Meng Jiu has lived for two hundred years, and he also feels that Meng Hetang is the person most like him.

"In reply to the ancestor, Hetang has gone on a flower boat tour and will be back soon." The official replied.

Meng Jiusheng nodded: "Okay, then wait a while."

There is a commotion among the younger generation.

"He Tang is so proud. It's ok for us to wait for him, but he dares us to wait for him too."

"That's right, He Tang is too arrogant. Has he forgotten that his last name is Meng?"

"If you were half as good as He Tang, and could write poetry at a young age, and could compose a poem in seven steps, the ancestor would also wait for you."

The teenagers whispered.

Meng Jiusheng suddenly said, "Everyone, please prepare and bring out the best poem you think you have written!"

The Meng family's younger generation didn't know what was going on, and they all started thinking about their most proud poems. They thought the ancestor was testing their knowledge.

Two hours later, the younger generations of the Meng family had prepared their best poems.

Meng Jiusheng read these poems one by one, picked and chose, and barely picked out three poems.

The three young men who were chosen all had excitement on their faces. Being favored by the ancestor showed that their poems were indeed good.

If they could receive instruction from their ancestors, they would surely make progress in their Confucian cultivation.

However, Meng Jiusheng looked at the three poems, shook his head and sighed: "These three poems are not as good as Quiet Night Thoughts."

Meng Jiusheng looked down on "Quiet Night Thoughts" at first, because he thought it was an obscene poem with the line "The moon shines brightly before my bed". Moreover, the poem did not have any fancy words, and the text was very simple.

However, since Meng Jiusheng watched "Spring River Moon Night", he has had a new understanding of this poem "Quiet Night Thoughts".

Perhaps because he liked Zhou Ping, Meng Jiusheng no longer discriminated against Jing Yesi.

"You have heard of 'Quiet Night Thoughts', right? Tell us what you think of this poem. Do you think your poems can compare with it?" Meng Jiusheng said.

The younger generation of the Meng family murmured for a while, and then began to speak.

This kind of study and research is not uncommon in the Meng family. Whenever a good poem appears, Meng Jiusheng will urge the younger generation to study it and learn from its strengths and make up for its weaknesses.

Everyone will gain some insights from the collision of ideas, and some people may even gain enlightenment through it.

Every time the ancestor held a research meeting, one or two people would successfully enter the realm of cultivation.

"In reply to the old ancestor, I think this poem is just a doggerel. The words are too simple, and it was written for a girl from the Jiaofang Bureau. It is really vulgar."

"Grandmaster, I have a different opinion. I think this poem is good! Although it is just like doggerel, after reading it, you will have a sense of picture, which makes people outside have thoughts and emotions."

"Yes, yes. At first glance, this poem is just a doggerel, but it has been widely circulated. Even children in the countryside can recite a few lines."

"Yes, I was not in Qianzhou City that night, but I also saw the moon in the sky. I instantly missed home and thought of this poem. I think this poem is excellent."

The younger generation of the Meng family had different opinions, but Meng Jiusheng did not express his opinion.

This is what research is like, especially when it comes to writing poetry. There is no standard answer, and once the answer is determined, it limits everyone's thinking.

This is not a good idea. It is better to let everyone express their opinions.

Meng Jiusheng asked, "How do you think this poem compares to yours?"

Meng Jiusheng threw out another question.

"I think this poem is not well written. It is worse than mine."

“I don’t think it’s well written.”

“I think it’s well written, but not as good as me.”

Among the younger generation of the Meng family, some thought this poem was well-written, some thought it was not, but only 10% thought this poem was better than their best poem.

Most people think that their own writing is not as good.

After all, the words of this poem are too simple, and the literary style of the Wei Dynasty is mainly exaggerated, so poems like "Quiet Night Thoughts" are not mainstream.

Meng Jiusheng didn't say anything, but carefully took out the Spring River Moon Night from his pocket. He got this Spring River Moon Night from Qinghe County.

This is the original manuscript!
"You come and read." Meng Jiusheng pointed at a young man in front of him. He was already in his twenties and was of the seventh rank.

The youngster was flattered and recited "Spring River Moon Night". In the past, this kind of poem was written by Meng Hetang.

"The spring river tide reaches the sea level, and the bright moon rises with the tide."

"The moon is shining on the spring river for thousands of miles, and there is no place where the spring river is not bright!"

"I don't know how many people will ride the moon back home, the falling moon shakes the emotions filled with the trees on the river."

The younger generation of the Meng family read the poem, and he became more and more excited. When he finished reading the poem, he couldn't help smacking his lips.

For a scholar, it was a great fortune to read a good poem. When he finished reading the poem, none of the Meng family's younger generations had any intention of making a fuss.

After listening to the song "Spring River Moon Night", not only do we have a picture in front of us, but we also feel a sense of guidance for life.

This poem is so good that no one dares to say it is bad.

If you don't say it, wouldn't that be blind?

"I'm in."

A thirteen-year-old boy said. He was also a young member of the Meng family, but he had never been promoted to a rank. The Meng family was a family of scholars, and if he had not been promoted to a rank at the age of thirteen, he was considered dull. But a song "Spring River, Flowers, Moonlight Night" made this dull young man instantly promoted to a rank.

The younger generation was so excited that they didn't know what to say and started showing off.

"I've made it to the Tenth Level!"

Not only him, but also the juniors of the ninth rank understood this poem and immediately entered the eighth rank.

There are seven or eight other people in this situation. Either they did not get into the grade, but got into the grade because of this poem, or they broke into the next grade.

Meng Jiusheng nodded with a look of satisfaction. Spring River Moon Night had not yet reached Qianzhou City, but this was first-hand information.

"What do you think? How about comparing it with your own poems?" Meng Jiusheng said.

After Meng Jiusheng finished speaking, no one answered.

After a long time, the young man who was reciting the poem said, "Ancestor, is this a poem you wrote? It is the best poem of all time."

An expert will know if there is one as soon as he takes action.

When these scholars were together, they all knew in their hearts that this poem "Spring River Moon Night" was not comparable to theirs.

They thought to themselves, could this poem have been written by the ancestor?

Meng Jiusheng sighed: "This poem was not written by me."

This caused a commotion among the younger generation of the Meng family.

"This poem is absolutely amazing. Not only does it have a visual sense, but it also seems to be telling some truth about life."

"Yeah, it's catchy and full of talent."

"I feel that this poem is the best among the younger generation of Wei."

"Could it be that this poem was written by He Tang?"

"Yes, yes, I have the same feeling. Only He Tang can write such a good poem."

"I don't think so. He Tang is still a little immature in writing this poem. This poem was probably written by that young man in the capital."

"Yes, I think this poem was probably written by Master Fan. He Tang is good at writing four-character and seven-character quatrains, but he is not good at this kind of long poem."

Everyone was talking at once, guessing who wrote this poem.

Not long after, a drunken young man came to Meng Jiusheng under the guidance of the official. The young man was dressed in gorgeous clothes, with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes. He looked more like a warrior than a scholar.

"He Tang, you're back." Meng Jiusheng was very tolerant of this junior because he was the most talented and most likely to enter the third rank.

If you enter the third rank, you can live for three to four hundred years.

Meng Jiusheng was a poor boy who gave birth to a family, all thanks to him being admitted to the third rank. Once he died, the Meng family would most likely fail.

So Meng Jiusheng wants to cultivate a third-grade! He has high hopes for Meng Hetang.

"Hetang, I have a poem here, take a look." Meng Jiusheng personally went to help Meng Hetang.

Meng Hetang waved his hand and said, "Old Ancestor, are your poems still readable? When you were young, your poems were still sharp, but now you have been tainted by the secular world. Your poems are no longer readable. Your poems no longer have any spiritual energy."

The younger generation of the Meng family were all shocked, as no one dared to speak to the ancestor in that way.

But Meng Jiusheng was not angry at all. He took Chun Jiang Hua Yue Ye and said, "Here, take a look and see if you can write a better poem than this one. This poem was not written by me."

Meng Jiusheng specifically explained that this poem was not written by him.

"It's not written by the ancestor, nor by Fan Shiyi. I won't read it." Meng Hetang pushed Meng Jiusheng's hand away.

The younger generations of the Meng family were already furious.

"This Meng Hetang is too arrogant."

"That's right. When the ancestor asked him to read a poem, he refused."

If it weren't for the face of the ancestor, everyone would want to beat him up. Meng Hetang was too arrogant, and he didn't have a good relationship with his peers. If it weren't for the protection of the ancestor, Meng Hetang would have been beaten long ago.

"This poem was not written by Fan Shiyi, but Fan Shiyi once said that this poem is the best among all other poems written by Fan." Meng Jiusheng explained patiently.

After hearing this poem, Fan Shiyi gave it a high evaluation. She has written at least 800 poems, if not 1,000, but she feels that all her poems put together are not as good as this one.

So Fan Shiyi felt that "this piece of writing is overwhelming to me!"

Meng Hetang was a little skeptical when he heard what Meng Jiusheng said. He staggered and took the paper from Meng Jiusheng's hand, and then read it.

Meng Hetang became famous at a young age and was self-taught.

Writing poetry is not something that can be taught. Teachers can only teach you the rules, but exquisite verses rely on talent, which cannot be achieved through hard work.

Poetry is outside of books, so those who can write poetry are extremely intelligent people.

So Meng He Tang Ao looked down on everyone, even Fan Shiyi, whom he thought was just taught well by Fan Zhongfu.

If he had Fan Zhongfu as his teacher, then Meng Hetang would not be any worse than Fan Shiyi.

Although Meng Hetang always said that he was the second most talented person in Wei, he was not convinced by Fan Shiyi.

"The spring river tide reaches the sea level, and the bright moon rises with the tide."

Meng Hetang sobered up a little after reading the first sentence. He thought these two sentences were quite good.

"The moon is shining on the spring river for thousands of miles, and there is no place where the spring river is not bright!"

By the time Meng Hetang read the second sentence, he was half sober.

"I don't know how many people will ride the moon back home, the falling moon shakes the emotions filled with the trees on the river."

After Meng Hetang read the last sentence, he broke out in cold sweat and sobered up.

Meng Jiusheng looked at Meng Hetang expectantly: "Hetang, how is it? Can you write a better poem than this one?"

"Grandfather, who wrote this poem? Could it be Fan Daru?" Meng Hetang asked after a moment of silence. The Fan Ru he was referring to was not Fan Shiyi, but Fan Zhongfu.

Meng Jiusheng: "Qinghe County, a bodyguard."

Meng Hetang: "Bodyguard? How old is he?"

Meng Jiusheng: "Seventeen."

Meng Hetang: "Ancestor, did you hear the sound of my body breaking apart?"

Meng Jiusheng's face lit up with joy. Meng Hetang was already a Confucian sixth-rank scholar. If he broke through, he would be a fifth-rank scholar. This speed was only slightly slower than Fan Shiyi, but much faster than Meng Jiusheng when he was young.

If this is true, Meng Hetang is likely to reach the third rank.

"You have entered the fifth level!" Meng Jiusheng said happily.

Meng Hetang nodded, then shook his head. Just now, he successfully reached the fifth level.

Meng Jiusheng frowned: "What do you mean?"

Meng Hetang looked at the Spring River Moonlight in his hand with trembling eyes: "Ancestor! Don't you know that people shouldn't see too stunning people when they are young?"

Meng Jiusheng was completely confused and looked at Meng Hetang with a puzzled look.

Meng Hetang looked at the moonlit night and gnashed his teeth as he said, "My Dao heart, my Dao heart is broken!"

(End of this chapter)