From the Carp that Brings Children to the Celestial Officials

Chapter 179 Only Because I Am in the Mountain

The venue for this literary gathering was chosen exceptionally well.

With open views on three sides and a forest on the other, it offers a bright and clear view to the east, the meandering Feng River to the south, and the shimmering green cliffs to the west.

To the north, across a secluded valley, the eaves of the main hall on the mountaintop are faintly visible.

The surrounding scenery is just like a painting.

Wu Mo went to great lengths to prepare for this literary gathering, even choosing a location with the best scenery.

You Ming also instructed Shan Ling to perform well, showcasing her high 8-point appearance, and to inspire these literati to write poetry, thereby spreading the word about Yuanling Mountain.

Behind every named sacred mountain in this world lies the praise of countless literati and poets.

Sometimes, a single, breathtaking line of poetry can completely ignite the fame of a place.

Whether our Yuanling Mountain can become popular depends on this wave.

The spring breeze blows across the mountainside, carrying a faint fragrance of flowers.

The attendees were captivated by the beautiful scenery, fine wine, and delicious food. Their talents flowed freely, and they composed poems, lyrics, songs, and essays with ease, creating a delightful and harmonious atmosphere.

A young man, full of vigor, picked up his pen and wrote a short poem with a fresh and elegant style; a scholar from Jiangnan, with soaring talent, wrote a chapter titled "Ode to the Mountains," which was full of exquisite detail; and a simple and unsophisticated young man, whose words, though simple, drew cheers and applause from the crowd.

The literary gathering lasted for three days, during which other students arrived one after another.

Everyone drank and chatted happily, and their poems and essays were all recorded by a specialist, to be compiled into a book as a memento.

At the end of the literary gathering, everyone couldn't help but look at Yan Yuanbai.

The highlight of this literary gathering is still the hope that this talented scholar will produce some timeless poems.

Seeing everyone's gaze, Yan Yuanbai slowly stood up.

As the sun began to set, the myriad peaks of Yuanling Mountain were shrouded in darkness, untouched by the rosy glow of the sunset, with only a lingering twilight on the horizon.

The wind rustled through the trees, the sound of the pines heavy, as if a thousand sighs were hidden among the branches and leaves.

Looking at the group of friends sitting in front of him, a feeling of loneliness suddenly welled up in his heart.

He picked up a pen and began to write quickly on the desk beside him, almost in one go.

"Low-hanging clouds lock ten thousand pines, and the winding stone path leads to the clear sky."

"Poems are inscribed on the mossy wall as the moss grows old, and cranes are frequently startled by the rain heard through the pine-lined window."

This is a regulated poem. The first two lines describe the surrounding scenery, and a sense of sorrow immediately washes over the reader, causing everyone to hold their breath.

"The moon is reflected in the cold pool, a thousand peaks stand silent; a wild deer carries a sprig of lingzhi in its mouth, ten thousand valleys are serene."

The third line describes the serene and tranquil scenery of the mountains, with cranes, deer, and mushrooms all symbolizing immortals and hermits, seemingly expressing dissatisfaction with the world and the idea of ​​living in seclusion in the mountains.

"I wish to write of unwavering loyalty and cast it into the heavens, but fleeting fame has blown me down to the Jade Capital."

But the fourth line suddenly shifts the tone, changing from describing the scenery to expressing emotions. It turns out that he was not really willing to be a hermit, but rather that he had no way to use his talents.

This sentence immediately elevates the sense of loneliness to a new level.

Yan Yuanbai was renowned for his talent and was known as the "Surprising Talent," but he repeatedly failed the imperial examinations, which left him feeling resentful.

He was full of ambition, yet he was unwilling to write flattering words, which would make him seem out of step with the times.

Yan Yuanbai put down his brush, and the mountain breeze had just stopped. The ink on the paper was not yet dry, but it seemed as if a gentle breeze was floating lightly on the edge of the paper.

Before anyone could speak, a faint sound suddenly rose from the mountains.

Looking up, as the sky darkened, a layer of warm, moist mist suddenly appeared over the entire Yuanling Mountain, slowly seeping down from the summit, as soft as silk and as ethereal as jade.

A light rain began to fall shortly afterward, but there was no chill in the air.

"Another masterpiece."

The light rain refreshed everyone's minds, and they began to exclaim in admiration.

Many others silently recited and pondered the text, marveling at the talent of this brilliant scholar.

Some even harbored cynical thoughts, quite glad that this talented scholar repeatedly failed the imperial examinations, otherwise, how could such famous lines have been passed down through the ages? One can only say, "Misfortune for the nation is fortune for the poet."

"Oh, right, it's been three days, and the owner of this place hasn't shown up yet."

"Since the host has treated us so well, why don't you come out and meet us so that we can express our gratitude in person?"

Yan Yuanbai's poem can be considered a fitting conclusion to this literary gathering.

Just as everyone was about to leave, someone suddenly spoke up.

It was only then that everyone realized that, of course, their host had treated them to fine wine and food and even arranged accommodations for them at the foot of the mountain that night. They would feel guilty if they didn't express their gratitude in person.

Yan Yuanbai's heart also stirred.

"Please inform your master whether he may come out and meet us."

He cupped his hands in greeting to the maidservant serving him and began to speak.

"Please wait a moment, esteemed guests. I will go and inquire. However, my master is always very busy and may not have the time."

One of the maids smiled, bowed slightly to everyone, and then withdrew.

The moment she disappeared from everyone's sight, the maid's appearance changed instantly, transforming from a smiling, flesh-and-blood body into a pure white porcelain-like form.

She returned shortly after she left, but this time she had an extra sheet of paper in her hand.

"I'm so sorry, my master is currently unavailable and asked me to apologize to everyone."

"However, he also wrote a poem and asked me to bring it here, so that he can be considered as participating in the literary gathering with everyone."

The maid carefully laid the paper on the table.

The group was initially somewhat displeased, feeling that the host was being too arrogant, but when they saw that the host had presented a poem, they all crowded around to read it.

"Look at the ridge and the side into the peak, the distance is different."

This is a seven-character quatrain. The first two lines, though simple in wording, are easy to recite and immediately captivate the reader.

Moreover, this is indeed an objective description of Yuanling Mountain.

Yuanling Mountain is indeed ever-changing from different angles, possessing hundreds and thousands of kinds of beauty.

"The true face of the primordial spirit remains unknown, simply because one is in the midst of it."

The last two sentences are equally simple, yet they contain a great deal of philosophical thought.

Those caught in the situation are often unaware of its full implications; those directly involved often struggle to grasp its essence, while bystanders sometimes have a clearer picture.

These simple four sentences contain many reflections on life.

"Good, good, good!"

"This poem should be the best in the literary gathering."

"Based on this poem alone, Yuanling Mountain will likely be among the famous mountains in the future."

Yan Yuanbai looked at the poem. Although the words were straightforward, its conception and reasoning were far superior to his own.

If one's own poem is a masterpiece of its time, then it will undoubtedly be a timeless classic.

Everyone couldn't help but ponder the poem, and the more they read it, the more profound its meaning became.

The lingering resentment in everyone's hearts vanished without a trace.

It is an incredible privilege to witness the birth of such a poem in person.

"Was this written by the carp god?"

Among the literati, there were also some practitioners who had transformed into scholars, yet they read a different flavor into this poem.

They were quite shocked, for this timeless little poem contained subtle threads of Taoist and Zen philosophy.

(End of this chapter)