The Song Dynasty was the king for thirteen years before he knew that he was Tianlong.

Chapter 359 Fame Must Be Achieved Early (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

Xiaolou listened to the spring rain overnight, and Shenxiang sold apricot flowers in the Ming Dynasty.

Two lines of poetry suddenly came to Zhao Ti's mind, their imagery profound and elegant, filling him with a mixture of joy and surprise.

Indeed, literature is a gift from heaven, and a stroke of genius can lead to unexpected discoveries; I never imagined I would be able to obtain such verses.

Such exquisite lines should be passed down through generations. I must complete them myself and then spread them far and wide, which can help cultivate my literary reputation.

"Big Brother, what are you standing there for? Dinner's ready..." Zhao Ling'er, who had one foot in the dining hall, turned around and looked at Zhao Ti.

"Have you eaten?" Zhao Ti snapped out of his daze, his face beaming with excitement. "Yes, yes, let's eat."

As he walked into the room, he saw a round table set up in the middle of the floor, with many dishes on it, including braised mutton, steamed sea bass, smoked chicken and goose breast, bright green vegetables, and fragrant mushrooms.

While Zhao's mother continued serving dishes, Zhao's father came over carrying two jars of wine.

Yang Jian sat down casually, looked at the dishes on the table and said, "Seventh Sister, why go through all this trouble? I see you've been busy all day, it would be more convenient to eat out."

Zhao's mother said, "What trouble? My younger brother is here, how can we not treat him well? Nothing tastes as good as home."

"The taste of home..." Yang Jian rubbed his hands together, then took a wine jar from Zhao's father: "Brother-in-law, what kind of wine is this?"

“You’ve never tried strong liquor before, have you?” Zhao’s father said. “It’s very potent, unlike the soft, mellow fruit wines you usually drink that have no power.”

“This…” Yang Jian said with dissatisfaction, “Who said I only drink fruit wine on weekdays? I also drink green ant wine. Green ant wine is very strong.”

"Green Ant Wine?" Zhao's father shook his head with a hint of disdain: "Although Green Ant Wine has some strength, it is still too soft when it enters the mouth. Although it is often drunk in the army, it is just for the sons of noble families who are trying to gain military merit to show off their wealth. It is not as refreshing as the old baijiu that soldiers drink."

“Brother-in-law, that’s just looking down on people.” Yang Jian said unhappily, “What do you mean by ‘the scions of wealthy families who are trying to gain military merits are showing off their wealth’? Although that wine is smooth on the palate, it’s not weak at all. It’s so strong that you’ll collapse in the wind. It’s much better than baijiu.”

Zhao's father said, "It's all just fancy stuff. It's nothing compared to the clean and efficient work. Let alone the strong liquor in my hand."

Zhao Ti then asked curiously, "Father, Uncle, what is Green Ant Wine?"

He knew that baijiu and baijiu were common drinks sold in the market and consumed by ordinary people. The porters and laborers along the Yujiang River drank baijiu because it was cheap and had a good kick.

Shaodaozi is more expensive than Baigan. It is popular in the city and is drunk by shopkeepers, martial arts practitioners, and even government officials.

Only scholars don't drink alcohol; they mostly drink fruit wine, though they also drink fine wines, like the ones Mo Xun brought up at Taibai Tower yesterday. But not everyone can afford fine wines; there are still many poor scholars.

"Green Ant Wine..." Zhao's father pondered, "When the newly brewed Green Ant Wine is not yet strained, there are lees floating on the surface. The lees are slightly green and as fine as ants, hence the name Green Ant. It is naturally fragrant and has a mellow taste. Although it is quite strong, it is expensive. Not to mention peddlers and laborers, even ordinary merchants and officials cannot afford it."

Yang Jian chimed in, "I remember my brother-in-law drank quite a bit of this wine back then, and he even made sarcastic remarks about it."

Zhao's father snorted, "I stopped drinking a long time ago. I can't afford the kind of drinks that the powerful and wealthy use to show off their wealth. This strong liquor is much better. Why are you talking so much nonsense? Are you going to drink or not?"

"Drink, drink, drink." Yang Jian's lips twitched, and he slapped open the mud seal. He glanced at the jar, where the wine was thick and clinging to the sides, its aroma wafting straight to his head.

He took a deep breath and poured it into a bowl. The old wine didn't need to be strained, and immediately a strong aroma wafted out.

"It tastes so strong, there's not a trace of the subtle fragrance of green ant wine," Yang Jian said, shaking his head.

“Green ant wine.” Zhao Ti raised an eyebrow, two lines of poetry suddenly popping into his mind, and he recited: “Green ant wine newly brewed, red clay stove with a small fire…”

"Big Pot composed a poem?" Zhao Ling'er exclaimed excitedly from the side.

Zhao Ti wondered why he had so many inspirations today, with verses popping into his head from time to time. Was it the result of his hard work in studying and accumulating knowledge?

"Newly brewed wine with green ants, a small red clay stove?" Yang Jian looked surprised and said, "It has a lot of flavor. It seems that my nephew's title of scholar is well-deserved."

"What does this poem mean?" Zhao's father asked, puzzled.

"Haha, brother-in-law, don't even think about it. It would be strange if you could understand the meaning behind it," Yang Jian said.

"What, Yang Shisan, are you looking down on people?" Zhao's father said angrily, "Although I haven't had much schooling, you're not much better than me, and you even know how to appreciate poetry?"

“Of course I will appreciate it,” Yang Jian said with a smile. “The more you hear, the more you will understand. Although I am not good at reading, I have seen a lot and can appreciate the meaning. My brother-in-law is not well-read and does not come into contact with poetry on a daily basis, so how can he appreciate the beauty of poetry?”

"I..." Zhao's father took a deep breath, but couldn't find anything to argue with, so he angrily opened the jar and filled his own bowl with wine.

“Nephew, your uncle has a question for you,” Yang Jian said. “Is there any more verse in this poem? Please continue reading.”

"What's next?" Zhao Ti thought for a moment, then blurted out: "Newly brewed wine with green foam, a small red clay stove, the evening sky threatens snow, shall we have a cup?"

After he finished speaking, he was taken aback. How could it have gone so smoothly? Even if one had accumulated a lot of knowledge and experience, it wouldn't be so easy to write a poem, let alone such a fine line.
The people around the table were stunned upon hearing this. Yang Jian murmured, "Newly brewed wine with green ant-like hues, a small red clay stove, the evening sky threatens snow, shall we have a cup? This, nephew, you..."

Mr. Zhao couldn't help but look at Mrs. Zhao and whispered, "What does the child's mother think?"

Mother Zhao smiled and said, "My son did a very good job. He has the bearing of a great man."

"Bang!" Suddenly a loud noise came, startling everyone. They looked and saw Yang Jian slamming his hand on the table.

“Nephew, this poem is truly excellent. If it were to reach Qianjing, it would surely be praised by scholars. My nephew is only sixteen years old, yet he has managed to compose such a poem. Truly, truly…” Yang Jian exclaimed in admiration.

"Really what..." Zhao's father asked, his face flushed.

"He truly inherited my seventh sister's literary talent..." Yang Jian glanced at him and said with a smile.

"Yang Shisan, what do you mean? Can't Ti'er inherit my... talent?!" Zhao's father said angrily.

"Brother-in-law... what talents do you have? I really don't know." Yang Jian coughed, his face full of disdain.

“Of course I am talented too, I, I…” Zhao’s father’s face turned even redder, and although his voice was loud, it seemed rather lacking in confidence.

“Stop arguing. My son’s ability to compose such a poem is a gift from heaven, unlike me or his father. I couldn’t have written a poem with such sentiment back then.” Mother Zhao pondered, “Thirteenth brother is flattering seventh sister.”

Yang Jian said, "Although I don't like reading, I love poetry. I will take this poem back to Huazhou and tell my nephew about it. If I go to Qianzhou, I will also let my nephew make a name for himself."

Mr. and Mrs. Zhao exchanged a glance. Mr. Zhao hesitated and said, "The poem is good, but is it good to make Ti'er famous? Ti'er is still young and has not yet obtained the title of Juren. He will take the provincial examination in the fall."

“Sigh, brother-in-law, you don’t understand,” Yang Jian shook his head. “The saying goes, ‘One must become famous early.’ Literary fame is different from martial fame. You don’t have to worry about jealousy or being hunted down. Naturally, the earlier the better. Look at the current prime minister, Li Zhen. Wasn’t he a child prodigy? He was famous throughout the land for his writings when he was just a few years old, and at twelve, he won first place in the imperial examination and was appointed the top scholar. Now he is not only a leader in the literary world but also one of the world’s greatest Confucian scholars.” Zhao’s father scratched his head. “Of course I know Li Zhen. He’s known as a once-in-five-hundred-years scholar. Although my son could write poetry when he was young, how can he compare to him?”

Yang Jian said, "Whether we compete or not is another matter. Since my nephew is good at poetry, he should make a name for himself. This will be beneficial for his future examinations and his career as an official."

Zhao's father asked doubtfully, "What's the benefit of this? I've heard that the candidates' names are always covered during the imperial examinations. Is it possible that someone will discover the candidate's identity and cheat secretly?"

Yang Jian chuckled and said, "Brother-in-law, you just don't understand. Every examiner is well-read and insightful about the literary world. Some candidates have already made a name for themselves, and their essays and poems have developed a unique style. Since they are in this examination category, the examiners will likely recognize them."

Zhao's father said, "That's not right either. Maybe some people don't like the person or the writing. Wouldn't that backfire and give them a low score, or even suppress them?"

Yang Jian said, "On the contrary, how could they be suppressed? It might be possible for unknown people, but famous scholars will definitely not be suppressed. After all, the exam questions will be published. Fame is not for cheating in the exam, but to prevent people from cheating."

"To prevent cheating?" Zhao's father asked, puzzled.

"It's about preventing cheating." Yang Jian pondered, "Although the government is efficient and the country is at peace now, some things are ultimately unavoidable..."

Father Zhao frowned and said, "A scion of a prominent family, did he rise to power through scheming and plotting?"

Yang Jian said, "That's right. Most of the young men go to the army to gain experience and accumulate military merits, but a small number of them want to pursue a literary career."

Zhao's father angrily said, "These parasites are everywhere. The world has been like this for a long time. How can you still talk about clean governance!"

Yang Jian said awkwardly, "It can't be said that way. Such things are hard to avoid. However, if a scholar has a good reputation, he can avoid the risk of being excluded from the rankings. After all, the examiners will always consider the impact on famous scholars. The more famous a scholar is, the less likely he is to show favoritism to others and move the scions of prominent families who have made connections forward."

Father Zhao said, "In that case... it's still better to make a name for ourselves?"

Yang Jian said, "Of course, it's better to become famous."

Father Zhao looked at Mother Zhao: "What does Seventh Sister think?"

Zhao's mother said, "Let Ti'er decide this matter himself. Explain the pros and cons to him and let him make his own decision."

Everyone looked at Zhao Ti, who said, "I think it's fine. Even if we don't consider the imperial examinations, we should still make a name for ourselves. Studying is not for self-entertainment, but for making achievements and bringing peace to the world. How can we not be famous? The greater our abilities, the greater our ambitions. The greater our ambitions, the greater our reputation should be. The greater our reputation, the more people will believe in us."

Yang Jian laughed and said, "Nephew, you've thought this through. In that case, I'll spread the word about it for you in Yuzhou City tomorrow."

Zhao Ti asked in confusion, "How can Uncle promote his nephew in Yuzhou?"

Yang Jian said, "You don't need to worry about that. I'll promote it for you. Anyway, your poems are genuine and your literary talent is real, so your uncle will give you a hand."

"Then I thank you, Uncle." Zhao Ti stood up and bowed.

"It's alright. If I don't help my nephew, who will? There's an old saying that goes, 'A mother's brother is the greatest'," Yang Jian said with a smile, gesturing with his hand.

"Thirteenth Brother is going to find..." Zhao's mother seemed to be deep in thought.

Yang Jian nodded and smiled, "Seventh Sister naturally knows."

After thinking for a moment, Zhao's mother said, "Alright, let's eat quickly, or the food will get cold."

Zhao's father picked up his wine bowl, pointed at Yang Jian, and then tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp.

Yang Jian finished his bowl of liquor, but his face immediately changed. He felt as if a flame was burning down his throat, and he hurriedly reached for some food with his chopsticks to suppress it.

After several rounds of drinks, Yang Jian was clearly quite drunk. He tore off the flower hairpin from his temple and threw it aside. He then used a silk handkerchief to wipe the powder off his face, making it look patchy and comical.

Zhao's father laughed loudly, "Yang Shisan, you look like an opera singer."

Yang Jian said, "Zhao Da, what are you saying? You actually insulted me, called me an actor."

Father Zhao looked confused: "Zhao Da? Who is Zhao Da?"

Yang Jian suddenly laughed and said, "Brother-in-law, have you even forgotten that you are Zhao Da? You were the Zhao Da who eliminated the three evils back then, and ended up eliminating yourself in the end."

Father Zhao shook his head and said, "What bullshit Zhao Da? I don't remember, I don't remember. Let's drink, let's drink."

Yang Jian tapped the rim of his bowl lightly with his chopsticks and recited: "A captivating young woman in green, a deadly crimson robe, a perfect match, wolves and tigers, a battle of wits with the golden sword, the swordsman Du Huang with his sword, as light as a swallow with Hu Jinxiu's sleeves, tearing apart tigers and leopards with Zhao..."

"Thirteenth Brother has had too much to drink," Zhao's mother said softly.

“I didn’t say much,” Yang Jian said. “When Seventh Sister left back then, she left the family, she left the family…”

"Honey, Thirteen has had too much to drink. Help him to rest," Zhao's mother said, her brows furrowing slightly.

Zhao's father responded, then went over and helped Yang Jian up, walking outside while muttering, "He keeps spouting nonsense, and he can't even hold his liquor, yet he drank so much..."

Watching the two leave, Zhao Ti shook his head and said, "What my uncle said is really hard to understand."

Zhao Ling'er reached out and grabbed a chicken leg: "Uncle, you're being very strange."

Zhao's mother laughed and said, "That's how drunk people talk; just don't think about it."

Zhao Ti nodded, ate with Zhao Ling'er for a while longer, and then got up to help his mother clear the table.

After everything was tidied up, it got dark, and Zhao Ti went back to his room to read.

His desk was very simple, just a large rectangular wooden table with writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, and two stacks of books on it.

One stack contains frequently read classics, histories, philosophical works, and literary collections; the other stack contains leisure books, such as notes from predecessors, annotations on poetry and rhyme, and vernacular stories.

Zhao Ti first wrote an article from memory, then took out a book to read and ponder as he read. Before he knew it, the night had deepened and the bright moon was high in the sky.

Just as he checked the time, put down his book, and prepared to rest, a gust of wind blew in from outside, and the window slowly opened.

Zhao Ti looked ahead and saw a figure silently leap in.

(End of this chapter)