Tang Dynasty Xie Lu Lang

Chapter 19: Tea

After hearing Zhang Shuo's test questions, all the guests in the hall looked at Zhang Luo with interest. Wang Han's eyes were full of anticipation, wanting to hear what new works this young man, who he felt had a soul that was quite compatible with his own, could come up with.

Seeing this, Zhang Luo knew that it would be difficult to refuse, so he stopped refusing and began to think about how to deal with it.

For a time-traveling copyist, this temporary and specific test scenario was truly a nightmare. After all, it wasn't their own work, and no matter how well-read they were, it would be difficult to quote it appropriately in a short period of time. Especially since Zhang Shuo, Wang Han, and others present were all world-class poets and writers, making it even more difficult to fool them.

Although Zhang Luo has accumulated a lot more knowledge of literature and history than ordinary people, he does not think that he can withstand the test of these top scholars without being exposed. Therefore, he has to deal with this test and also pass by this topic so as not to let others pay too much attention to the depth of his knowledge.

At this time, a waiter had already brought a desk and writing brush in the hall. Zhang Luo moved to sit beside the desk, his mind still racing. After about half a quarter of an hour, he had a plan in mind. He bowed to Zhang Shuo again and said, "Grandfather, I dare not refuse your advice. However, I am not good at studying, I have been too lazy to play, and I am too hasty to attend to social events. I am afraid that I may not follow the rules of poetry and will be laughed at by experts. Please reply with a poem."

Zhang Shuo frowned slightly when he heard this. Rhyme and rhythm are the basic rules for modern poetry and prose creation. If one cannot even apply these proficiently, how can one create a famous work?
Although the previous poem, "Golden Brocade Robe," had not followed any specific rules of versification, it was nonetheless profoundly artistic, fresh, and interesting. Now, facing this on-the-spot test, he was a little skeptical that this young man was talented enough to create another masterpiece of miscellaneous poetry. While miscellaneous poetry was free from the constraints of versification, it also meant there was no guarantee of a lower limit. If the content wasn't brilliant, it would be considered vulgar and mediocre.

He already felt a faint sense of regret in his heart, but he still said in a deep voice: "We are all good friends here, gathered together with a sense of camaraderie, and we will certainly not laugh at your momentary clumsiness. As long as you can write a complete article, it doesn't matter what the style is, as long as it is just to entertain you. It doesn't matter if it is ugly."

Zhang Luo could tell from his grandfather's tone that his confidence in him had vanished, and he was even beginning to foreshadow his failed showmanship. He didn't mind it, after all, it was a bit hard to force people to have confidence in people and things they were unfamiliar with. So, now let me give you a little shock.

He picked up his brush and dipped it lightly in ink, then breathed a sigh of relief before placing the tip of the brush on the paper and began to write. His handwriting was a little ugly, but that was because he didn't dare use his signature Liu-style regular script, which he was good at. He had to keep it to sell, so how could he show it to these people?

tea.

Fragrant leaves, buds.

Mu Shike, love monk home.

Grinding carved white jade, weaving red yarn.

Chrysanthemum fry yellow core color, the bowl turns to dust flowers.

After the night, I invite you to accompany the bright moon, and before the morning, you are ordered to face the morning glow.

Wash away all the tireless efforts of people from ancient times to the present, and you will know that you cannot boast after being drunk.

The guests in the hall only saw Zhang Luo writing at his desk, but could not see the specific content of his writing. As for Zhang Shuo, he felt a little worried that his grandson was just an embroidered pillow, or would bring shame to his family's learning. As soon as Zhang Luo finished writing, he glanced at the waiter beside him, asking him to present the poem to him immediately.

When the paper with wet ink was presented to him, Zhang Shuo's face darkened slightly. The handwriting was really not very good. But when he saw the content of the poem, his slightly furrowed brows slowly relaxed. After reading it, he looked down at Zhang Luo with a look of displeasure and said, "Since you know that your art is not yet perfect, you should study with respect and sincerity. You should not be lazy and slack because of your frivolous talent for playing with words. These flashy and playful things may entertain people, but how can they be used to manage the affairs of the country!"

Although his tone was one of rebuke and preaching, the expectations he expressed were extremely high. He even used such a grand goal as governing the nation to spur his juniors, which showed that he admired them more than anything else. If they were truly unrefined, why would he bother with such sermons?
Therefore, after hearing Zhang's words, everyone present was even more amazed at the talent of the Zhang family's young man, who could even be praised by Zhang Yangong in such a way that he could only criticize him. Wang Han, who had been full of anticipation from the beginning, could not help but stand up and walk towards the host's table, saying, "My son has rewarded me with a new poem, why are you taking it upon yourself?"

Zhang Shuo smiled and handed the poem to the impatient Wang Han. He then raised his hand and ordered, "Set up another seat next to my table and bring in another serving of wine and food. My son just returned, so he probably hasn't eaten yet."

The Zhang family's servants quickly set up a seat for Zhang Luo, and Wang Han took the poem and began to recite it. The others also listened attentively. They were still a little confused at the first few sentences, but gradually they showed an expression of serious appreciation.

This poem "Tea" is a playful work by Yuan Zhen in the middle Tang Dynasty. The format is to start with one word and add words step by step until there are seven words. Therefore, it is also called the one-seven style, or pagoda poem. It is a relatively niche miscellaneous style of poetry besides regulated verse.

Because it does not pay attention to the rhythm of rhyme and has a more lively format, it is often used by literati as a game. This poem "Tea" is a very rare example among pagoda poems.

"Zhang Langjie is a man of considerable talent. Although his work is a play, it retains its elegance and is full of wit and humor. To accuse him of laziness is far too harsh. With such talent, a true gem in the rough, how can his spirit be wasted in the hands of mediocre craftsmen?"

Wang Han recited the poem several times before showing it to the guests at other tables. Then he bowed to Zhang Shuo and spoke up for Zhang Luo: "Your Excellency often visits the virtuous and talented people in the world and often promotes them. You have kept the Lanzhi Poem at home and have never shown it to anyone. If it weren't for me, a wicked guest, who made things difficult for you today, you would probably still not have seen this young poet!" Zhang Shuo laughed when he heard this, and looked at Zhang Luo at the table with undisguised admiration.

He was known as the master of the literary world not just because of his power and seniority. In addition to his own profound attainments in poetry and prose, he also helped to recommend and support many of the worthy ci scholars of the time, and his praise was not limited to verbal.

Now that such a young talent has appeared in his family, he has been reciting and savoring his poems for many days. The poems he wrote on the spot today are even more eye-opening. Of course, he is quite pleased and happy.

After the guests at the banquet passed the poem around, they all couldn't help but praise it. Zhang Shuo then introduced the identities of these guests to Zhang Luo.

In addition to the active Wang Han, others were also well-known for their talents, such as the poet Wang Wan, whose "Next to Beigu Mountain" was included in the textbooks, Cui Hao, who was famous for his seven-character poem "Yellow Crane Tower", Sun Ti and Zhao Dongxi, who were less famous in later generations but are well-known for their talents at the time, and the barbecue master Fang Guan, who was not famous for his poetry but for his craftsmanship.

After hearing the names of these guests, Zhang Luo even felt as if he was back in the Chinese language class in middle school. The only difference was that now he was no longer facing those slightly boring texts, but living people with different appearances and personalities.

While everyone praised Zhang Luo, each individual was somewhat surprised. Wang Han, for example, looked as if he'd met him too late, his enthusiasm so overwhelming that Zhang Luo felt a bit overwhelmed. The older guests were primarily appreciative. While the younger guests chimed in with a few words, their words seemed somewhat insincere, a bit unconvinced.

This is normal. Young people in their twenties are still in the stage of youthful vigor. If they have some talent, they will definitely be in high spirits and maintain a mentality of "everyone here is garbage."

Poets in particular tend to be more arrogant and conceited. Perhaps even an old-fashioned figure like Zhang Shuo is not taken seriously by them, and their praise for Zhang Luo is just a show.

Zhang Luo didn't care much about this. In his plan, now was not a good time for him to rise strongly and dominate the poetry world of the prosperous Tang Dynasty with the "Complete Tang Poems". He would let these people admire themselves for a while, and after a few years, let them deeply feel the fear and frustration of being dominated by the shadow of a genius.

His poem brought the atmosphere of the banquet to a climax. After everyone praised him highly, the topic gradually shifted away from him and the poem and started discussing the less popular poetry genre of pagoda poetry.

As for Cui Hao, Fang Guan and other young people who were proud of their talents, they were already looking around in the classroom, probably trying to choose something for them to recite and express themselves.

This was exactly the effect Zhang Luo needed. If he copied a regular verse, people would inevitably comment on and appreciate the poem itself, and then extend it to his level of talent, which would undoubtedly increase the possibility of him being exposed.

However, the unique and interesting subject matter of pagoda poetry tends to weaken scrutiny of the content and shift discussion toward form. Furthermore, many talented ci scholars were present, inevitably itching to compete with them, and naturally, the focus on Zhang Luo himself would be short-lived.

"Chopsticks, green sky, green bamboo..."

Soon, someone in the hall raised their bamboo chopsticks and began to recite. Seeing this, the others also became interested, some laughing and adding to the fun, while others lowered their heads to think, and gradually joined in this competitive drama.

Zhang Luo, the instigator of the incident, no longer sought to perform. He sat quietly beside his grandfather Zhang Shuo, chewing his food in small sips while appreciating the performances of these ancient literati with great interest.

Zhang Shuo, who was sitting at the host's seat, presided over the literary gathering while secretly observing his grandson. He saw that the boy sat down at the table after reciting a poem. He did not get carried away by the praise of the crowd, nor did he continue to show off. He had a calm and composed temperament, which made him admire him even more.

The following banquet turned into a poetry gathering. Most of the guests in the hall performed. Even Zhang Shuo tried to write a poem on the title "Poetry" and actually put together more than 40 poems.

Some curious people copied all the poems into a collection in class, and when they evaluated their merits, Zhang Shuo's poems were naturally placed at the beginning of the volume.

As for Zhang Luo's "Tea", it was selected by the masses as the last and most important work at the end of the volume, not only because this poetry meeting was initiated by him, but also because his poem was recognized as the best among all the poems written that night.

Even some of the guests present secretly felt that even Zhang Shuo's play was not better than Zhang Luo's "Tea", but the relationship between the grandfather and grandson was harmonious, and it would be embarrassing to force a comparison.

Since he had to attend a court meeting the next morning, Zhang Shuo didn't stay up all night with the guests. After enjoying himself, he left early to rest. Zhang Luo ignored everyone's pleas to stay and also took the opportunity to take his leave. He returned to his own residence without much nostalgia, thinking of the poetry gathering as a sudden dream before leaving the Zhang family.

(End of this chapter)