Damn it, I'm in the garbage book I wrote

Chapter 805 Overturning the Seas and Unleashing Giant Waves

When three men get together, they naturally have endless things to talk about. They talk about everything from the northern frontier to the southern regions, from thousands of miles of wheat fields to vast rice paddies, from warships and cannons traversing the vast seas to the Long Live Iron Army patrolling the northern grasslands.

"The northern lands are full of swamps. The terrain is complex, and most people think that the land can naturally grow food, but that's not the case. There are many mountains and rivers, and the swamps are like the sea. In winter, the land is frozen for thousands of miles, and in summer, mosquitoes swarm everywhere. My leg was ruined by being soaked in water during the pioneering work, and then the cold winter air hit it, and now I'm a cripple."

These words resonated deeply with everyone. Who didn't know how dashing Ye Liangchen was back then? If it weren't for Xia Daosheng's emergence that year, he would have been one of the most outstanding young men in the world, excelling in both literature and martial arts. Moreover, he was handsome and refined, and the girls in the capital were all talking about him back then. They would have been willing to pay anyone to have a night of pleasure with Ye Liangchen.

But now, he has become a burly man, his face dry and dark, his hands calloused like those of an old farmer who has worked hard for a long time. He has even become a cripple, and it is said that there is no possibility of recovery. He can only be slowly cared for to prevent his condition from worsening. Isn't this a sad state of affairs?

The northern frontier is bitterly cold, something that people in the Jiangnan region can hardly imagine. Yet, in such an environment, Ye Liangchen managed to keep the people there from risking their lives to invade the border for ten years. He even transformed it into a massive granary, which led to foreign tribes voluntarily submitting to him and the foreign peoples wholeheartedly submitting.

If this isn't skill, then what is?

Of course, there are countless talented people in the world today, and there are so many outstanding individuals that it's impossible to count them all. Every industry has gathered a large number of elites. However, let's not forget that whether it's Xia Lin, Xiao Chenzi, or even the Little Prince who specializes in agriculture, they all fought their way out of the darkest times. They saw the blue sky, and they themselves were the torches.

But even as they broke through, countless Anmus fell in the final darkness before dawn.

No, that's not right, that shouldn't be said. They didn't fall there; rather, they used their bodies and souls to become the source that kept the torch burning until dawn. If it weren't for these people's selfless sacrifice and unwavering courage, even Xia Lin would probably have ended up like the dragon-slaying youth who became the dragon himself.

Not all of these people are remembered and engraved on the monument. Most of them are unknown and their names are not even recorded in history books. Some are only mentioned in a sentence such as "On X month X year, Dali Temple Minister Anmusi and a group of colleagues were persecuted and died in prison" or "Three hundred people of ideals gathered in X place to resist them and died."

They may not have names, but they still deserve to live on forever.

When the conversation reached this point, Xia Lin silently raised his wine glass and poured a glass of wine onto the ground. The young prince and Xiao Chenzi followed suit and poured their wine onto the ground as well.

"A tribute to those comrades who were never reunited with their families." The young prince looked up and sighed, "A few years ago, I had a very promising student who said to me one day, 'Teacher, I'm going to fight.'"

“I asked him where he was going to fight, and he said he was going to fight so that his descendants would never be bullied again. Then he never came back. I inquired several times before I learned that he died in Luoyang, falling under the swords of those people along with many others.” The young prince poured himself a cup of wine: “So when someone criticizes Daosheng for killing too many people, I always say that he did a good job killing them.”

The three of them didn't say anything more. As the saying goes, "One general's success is built on the bones of ten thousand," and behind him were already piles of white bones. When they heard this sentence again, they didn't know what to think.

“I don’t know about other things, but at least right now, we are better than ever before, and we will only get better in the future.” Xia Lin raised his glass: “To the bright moon in the sky and the earth beneath our feet.”

They got completely drunk that day, and some even had to be helped back to their rooms to rest. Even when Xia Lin was completely drunk, he was still muttering about bringing back the Western Regions as soon as possible.

The words he used were words that could be taken back... If any Western Region person heard them, they would cry out in their dreams.

The next day, the three of them went up to the Tengwang Pavilion, but because Xiao Chenzi had overexerted himself the day before, he had to be carried up there.

The river used to flow quietly and idly, but now hundreds of boats race on the mighty Gan River. When the sun shines on it, it truly has a certain charm.

"Daosheng became famous in this battle back then. After the Preface to the Pavilion of Prince Teng was written, no one in the world could compete with him." The young prince leaned on the railing and looked out, sighing: "Time waits for no one. Now I am an old man in my forties."

"Hahahaha." Xiao Chenzi sat in his wheelchair, tilting his head back as he drank. "Who says otherwise? If it weren't for him back then, I would have been the leader of the world, and maybe even a prime minister now."

"Are you inferior to the Prime Minister, General Ye?"

Well, that's not wrong. If Xiao Chenzi hadn't asked to step down to the second line, he would have been the King of Northeast China, with hundreds of thousands of soldiers and a huge granary. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him the emperor of the Northeast. He was indeed not comparable to an ordinary prime minister.

"Alright," Xia Lin interrupted his thoughts, "Now that the river flows gently, why don't we ask the top scholar to compose a poem or song for us?"

"Hahahaha... Enough, enough." Xiao Chenzi waved his hand and said, "I've been a brute for over ten years, working the land and training every day. I've long lost the talent I had back then. But Commander Xia always has new works. Please, Commander, show us your skills."

"Hey, I said 'Qianyu' myself, not you said it for me. Saying it out loud is like swearing." Xia Lin kicked his butt: "I'll throw you off the building, you believe me?"

"Stop talking, let me see what you've got," the young prince said anxiously from the side. "Anyone will do."

Xia Lin stood by the railing, gazing into the distance, and suddenly laughed: "Then I'll copy another one."

"Copy." Xiao Chenzi rolled his eyes. "Then go ahead and copy."

Xia Lin cleared his throat, but after a long while he finally shook his head: "I can't copy it anymore. You know, I haven't been in this line of work for a long time."

"Stop pretending, hurry up."

Xia Lin scratched his head, a little guilty, and said, "Standing alone in the cold autumn, the Xiang River flows northward?"

Xiao Chenzi turned around: "Why are you keeping me in suspense?"

At this moment, Xia Lin simply gritted his teeth and decided that since he had already copied so much, it wouldn't hurt to copy a little more. So he took a few deep breaths and read the poem "Qinyuanchun" from beginning to end.

In fact, he always felt that this poem was superior to "Snow," especially in the second half of the poem, "Bringing a hundred companions, we once roamed together, recalling the glorious and turbulent years of the past. We were young students then, in the prime of our lives; full of youthful vigor and ambition, we spoke with unrestrained spirit. We discussed the state of the nation, wrote passionately, and regarded the powerful officials of the time as mere dust." At that moment, that feeling suddenly surged up.

He used to be hesitant to touch this song, but now it's actually quite good to show off in front of his brothers.

As soon as he finished speaking, Xiao Chenzi clapped his hands and exclaimed, "Excellent! Excellent! What a fine example of 'treating the powerful of yesteryear as dirt'! You're still the same as before; no one in the world can match your spirit."

Even the usually poor young prince, patting his fan and counting the beats, nodded repeatedly: "Not bad, not bad at all! This one poem reminded me of my spirited days back then! Well done!"

Xiao Chenzi looked up at the sky and said, "In the blink of an eye, I've reached middle age. Back then, I was full of vigor and ambition."

"Don't spread this around, men have pride." Xia Lin said somewhat shyly, "It's not appropriate to copy the teacher's work." But even though he said that, the poem was already circulating everywhere that very night. The main problem was with the recording, because poems need to be copied and transcribed. Xia Lin wrote a poem, and then the young prince wanted someone to copy it down.

Next, the person who copied the text had to transcribe it, and after transcription, it had to be stored in a library. The problem lay in the storage process because the person who stored the text was poorly paid, so he would have some extra connections with outside publishing houses.

Princely residences would often host banquets for famous figures, who would spontaneously compose poems and songs. These poems and songs would then be collected and sold to publishing houses by the scribes who collected them. This was an unwritten rule, or even a rule tacitly approved by the upper class, because famous figures were embarrassed to actively ask for their works to be disseminated. In other words, it was somewhat of a self-serving attempt to gain fame.

They usually leak their articles through this channel to win applause and generate profits for clerks, publishing houses, and publishing organizations.

These things are paid according to the level of fame. For example, if an ordinary scholar writes a good poem, even if it is a masterpiece, the price will not be high. The main purpose is to promote the reputation.

Xia Lin's output of poetry has been extremely low in recent years, almost non-existent. The first issue price for his new poems is three thousand taels.

That's right, the price is that outrageous. Three thousand taels for a poem is the top price. How do they make a profit? It's the bookstores' own "copyright". After spending this money, they sell the poems to singers and storytellers. They have to pay to use them. They can't use these poems without paying.

So that very evening, Xia Lin's poem had already spread throughout Hongdu Prefecture.

"Excellent! All creatures roam freely under the frosty sky! This is truly the work of Lord Xia. Look at who has such spirit these days!"

"It's truly exquisite. Not only is it powerful and majestic, but the phrase 'just like young students'... Ah, just think about what Lord Xia has done over the years, how much thought must be contained in this one line."

A series of exclamations flowed from the mouths of these young students, and some even held a poetry gathering to appreciate the poem.

Xia Lin, however, was completely unaware of anything at the moment. She was pushing Xiao Chenzi and following behind the young prince, wandering through the streets and alleys looking for a hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

"This place, this place's boiled fish is absolutely amazing." The young prince pointed to a restaurant in the alley: "After eating so much meat and fish, it's these flavors that truly make you feel nostalgic."

After the group sat down, a little girl of about ten years old came up to take their order. Xia Lin sat there, crossed her legs, and said to Xiao Chenzi, "Hey, big boy, why don't you cross your legs a little?"

"You die!" Xiao Chenzi said through gritted teeth, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be sitting in a wheelbarrow today."

"Hey, why are you blaming him?" the young prince asked, puzzled. "Did he hit you?"

Xiao Chenzi helplessly recounted how Xia Lin had asked him to play soccer with those teenagers yesterday. The young prince laughed so hard he lost all composure, but in the end he nodded: "That's definitely something he's capable of doing."

At this moment, the owner walked over with an embarrassed look on his face. He chuckled and said, "Gentlemen, I have a few things to attend to today. The price of some spices has increased more than tenfold recently, so today's dishes may be a bit expensive."

"It's increased tenfold? Why?"

The boss shook his head: "I don't know about that, but I heard from people who were passing through the Western Regions that several countries were fighting over the railway. Everyone wanted our railway to pass through their country, and no one could convince anyone else, so they started fighting."

"This railway is only going this far! It'll be thirty years before it reaches them!" The young prince chuckled. "What are they fighting about now?"

"Who knows? So... gentlemen, these dishes will be a bit more expensive than usual. Please forgive us."

After the boss left, Xia Lin glanced at the young prince and said, "The news about the railway spreads pretty fast."

"It can't be hidden. Who wouldn't be envious of this?" Xiao Chenzi laughed. "I had my eye on it after seeing it, let alone them."

Xia Lin was silent for a while: "I wrote to Bo Heng and asked him to mediate. Their fighting is affecting our grocery shopping, and this is intolerable."

Sure enough, Xia Lin actually wrote the letter, and about a month later it actually reached Wang Boheng's hands. After reading the letter, he chuckled and said, "Sun Ze, prepare to mediate the war between the six kingdoms of the Western Regions."

The deputy general, Sun Ze, turned his head and asked, "General, how many men do I need to take with me?"

"You handle it." Wang Boheng stood up: "Don't let things here displease your hometown. Get things done within twenty days."

"Order!"

Afterwards, Vice General Sun Ze set off with six men. The war between the six kingdoms of the Western Regions had lasted for more than three months, and a large amount of goods and spices were blocked outside the war zone. Now, a letter came from their hometown urging them to hurry up, saying that it was affecting the people's food supply. They didn't care about those Western Region madmen, but affecting the people back home from eating good food was an unforgivable crime.

So the six men sped off towards the site of the war between the six kingdoms. On the way, one of the accompanying envoys asked curiously, "General Sun, are six men enough to mediate the war between the six kingdoms?"

“I can be a mediator or an envoy of the Han Dynasty. If they have the ability, they can kill us.”

"Good!" The envoy beside him widened his eyes upon hearing this and said with great excitement, "General Sun, shall I cut myself?"

"You'd better stop this nonsense!" Sun Ze snapped. "Don't give me that kind of play!"

In about ten days, they arrived at the place of conflict. The place was in ruins, with defeated soldiers and frozen civilians everywhere. The six of them passed through the small town and felt a chill run down their spines. If it weren't for the freezing weather, the place would probably have been filled with the stench of corpses.

"That's really inhuman."

Sun Ze cursed under his breath, then urged his horse forward, finally arriving at the actual war zone in the afternoon.

"General Sun, the two armies are engaged in fierce fighting ahead."

"Hang up the flag! Tell them to calm down."

(End of this chapter)