Great Zhou Wensheng

Chapter 125 Mingzhou's "A Night Mooring at Maple Bridge"! The scholars of Suzhou wept in unison!
As dusk settled, the Jinling Inn remained brightly lit.

Suddenly, the sound of horses' hooves outside the door stopped, and several young men from noble families, dressed in fine clothes, stepped into the room, their jade pendants clinking together, producing a clear and melodious sound.

The leader bowed respectfully to the group of scholars from Jiangzhou inside the inn, his demeanor respectful yet retaining the air of a distinguished family, and presented them with a gold-embossed visiting card, saying:
"Greetings to all my brothers in Jiangzhou!"

"The autumn imperial examinations are approaching, and talented individuals from ten prefectures in Jiangnan are gathering in Nanjing. The twelve families of Nanjing have specially prepared a banquet on the banks of the Qinhuai River to invite you all to a poetry gathering and to make friends through literature."

"I would also like to ask Brother Jiang Xingzhou, Brother Shen Zhiyun, Brother Han Yugui, Brother Cao An, Brother Li Yunxiao... and others!"

He read out the name cards one by one, his voice clear and his smile warm, “You are all outstanding figures in Jiangzhou. I hope you can take time out of your busy schedules to attend and make this a great event.”

Xie Yunmiao stood tall, a subtle fragrance wafting from her sleeves, the gold letter in her hand gleaming under the lamplight, brightening the entire room.

After they leave.

Inside the inn, candlelight flickered red, and the aroma of tea lingered.

Han Yugui played with the gold letter in his hand, then suddenly chuckled: "I have long heard that the sons of the Twelve Families of Jinling are arrogant and look down on scholars from other places, and have dominated the literary scene in Jinling for many years. But today I see that they are humble and polite, which is quite different from the rumors."

"Exactly!"

Cao An clapped his hands in agreement, "That young master Xie spoke with gentle grace and without any arrogance. It seems that rumors from the streets cannot be entirely trusted."

"To go or not?"

Han Yugui raised an eyebrow and looked around at everyone.

Lu Ming laughed loudly and stood up with a flick of his sleeve: "How can we not go? If we, the lads of Jiangzhou, were to be timid and hesitant, the talented scholars of the nine prefectures of Jiangnan would think we were cowards!"

All eyes turned to the window—Jiang Xingzhou stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the lights gradually rising on the Qinhuai River not far away.

"go with!"

Jiang Xingzhou smiled, turned around, and with a flick of his sleeve, the candle flame on the table crackled and burst into a flame.

—A literary reputation is like a lamp; the brighter it shines, the more radiant it becomes!

The higher one's literary reputation, the easier it is for any article to be published beyond the county or even the prefecture.

Those great Confucian scholars and literary masters could write an article that would attract countless scholars to read it, and almost every article would be published in counties and above.

The higher the quality of a poem or essay, the stronger its combat power will be when transformed into literary arts!

Poetry gatherings and book publications are the best places to make a name for oneself in literature!
As dusk falls, the Qinhuai River ripples with golden light.

Jiang Xingzhou and the scholars of Jiangzhou walked on the bluestone to the dock, where they saw a vermilion painted boat lying across the middle of the river. Glass lanterns on the triple eaves hung down like stars, making the water surface shimmer with gold.

The Xie family servant was already waiting on the shore. When he saw the group of people coming with gold invitations, he immediately bowed and led the way: "Gentlemen, please follow me to board the ship."

On the painted boat, the faint sounds of string and wind instruments drifted through the carved window lattices. A night breeze rustled through the carved windows, carrying the fragrance of lotus blossoms.

The sons of the Wang and Xie families, dressed in brocade robes and jade belts, moved among the guests.

The servants were pouring wine for the talented scholars of Suzhou.

Xie Yunmiao suddenly saw the Jiangzhou people boarding the ship, so he immediately put down his cup and spread his wide sleeves and said with a smile, "Brothers from Jiangzhou, I am sorry for not welcoming you sooner!"

He invited everyone to board the boat.

Brother Jiang!

But then, a clear voice pierced through the music inside the painted boat.

Many of the scholars from the ten prefectures of Jiangnan rose from their seats, their jade pendants jingling as their clothes fluttered.

Tang Yanqing, the top scholar in the Suzhou prefecture examination, held a gold-leafed folding fan, his wide sleeves fluttering in the wind, and bowed with a smile: "Since we parted at Taihu Lake, Brother Jiang's demeanor has become even more outstanding than before."

"Brother Tang, you flatter me. It's been many days. Today, let's make friends through poetry!"

Jiang Xingzhou returned the greeting with clasped hands, his heroic spirit undiminished.

The group exchanged smiles and took their seats.

Soon,
Inside the painted boat,
The young masters of the twelve families of Jinling sat upright in the main seats, wearing jade crowns and wide belts.

The talented men of Suzhou gently waved their folding fans, their conversation refined and elegant.

The young man from Hangzhou held his book and pondered deeply, exuding an air of refined elegance.

The Qinhuai River was ablaze with lights, and top scholars from ten prefectures, including Changzhou, Yangzhou, Jiangning, Shaoxing, and Jiaxing, gathered together, creating a grand literary gathering in Jiangnan.

Inside the painted boat, over three hundred of the most outstanding scholars from ten prefectures gathered together. On the sandalwood table, celadon teacups reflected the candlelight; among the embroidered seats, jade pendants and golden crowns shone brightly.

Near this painted boat, along the river, there are twelve other painted boats brightly lit, with the sounds of string and wind instruments playing continuously.

A river breeze swept by, carrying the sounds of poetry and drinking games from the painted boats, spreading elegance throughout the city.

On the banks of the Qinhuai River, at the Mingyue Tower, many literati, unable to board the painted boats without invitation, could only lean on the railing and gaze into the distance, where wine flags fluttered.

Inside Qingming Pavilion, tea drinkers thronged together, pointing and discussing animatedly.

The Confucius Temple Street was incredibly lively, with crowds of people everywhere.

The entire city of Jinling knows that tonight, the "Twelve Masters of Jinling" poetry gathering has brought together the talents of ten prefectures and cities in Jiangnan. Jiang Xingzhou, the top scholar of Jiangzhou, whose ten articles will be serialized in the June issue of the "Jiangnan" magazine, is also present.

The long street of the Confucius Temple was teeming with people, all eager to witness this rare literary and poetry gathering.

In one corner of the painted boat, several scholars in brocade robes were whispering amongst themselves.

One of them lowered his voice and said, "Have you all heard the rumors? Those ten essays attributed to Jiang Xingzhou were not written by him personally." He looked around and covered his mouth with his fan. "It is said that they were ghostwritten by advisors hired by nobles at great expense!"

I think so too!

The thin scholar standing nearby immediately chimed in, adding fuel to the fire, "How could anyone in this world, a mere scholar, possibly write ten essays in a row, even if they were from a high-ranking family!"

Moreover, it spans ten different literary genres, including poetry and prose? This is definitely not something one person could accomplish!
Even a Grand Secretary of the current dynasty would find it difficult to achieve such skill. If numerous successful candidates in the imperial examinations were behind the scenes, it would explain the outcome!

The murmurs spread like ripples, drawing the attention of the surrounding guests.

"Bullshit!"

A clear shout suddenly rang out.

Tang Yanqing snapped the gold-plated fan shut, her brocade sleeves gleaming coldly under the lamplight.

"During the Battle of Taihu Lake, I personally witnessed Brother Jiang composing the poem 'The Ballad of the Frontier' on the spot and killing a turtle demon general under the command of the demon king Ao Li in front of everyone."

His gaze swept across the crowd like lightning. "Brother Jiang's amazing talent is not something that petty people can slander."

The painted boat fell silent for a moment, with only the river breeze gently tapping on the carved windows.

The lights inside the boat flickered. The skeptic sneered and slammed his celadon wine cup heavily on the table.

"Brother Tang, you are mistaken! Prefect Xue and Headmaster Zhou of Jiangzhou both regard him as their son or nephew."

"If the nobles of the Great Zhou Dynasty were to unite and promote a 'great talent of Jiangnan,' wouldn't it be a piece of cake to prepare eight or ten poems by high-ranking officials in advance?"

Upon hearing this, the expressions of everyone around changed.

Some nodded silently, while others frowned in thought.

"."

Tang Yanqing was speechless for a moment, unsure how to refute. Her folding fan snapped shut, her knuckles turning white from the force.

Even though he witnessed it with his own eyes—the scene on the city wall of Wuxi—Jiang Xingzhou composed a poem on the spot and shot arrows through the air to kill the demon.

But right now, there are many skeptics.

That's really hard to refute.

Who can prove that these weren't poems prepared in advance by the nobility?

"absurd!"

Tang Yanqing felt helpless and indignant.

With a flick of his sleeve, he surveyed the crowd, his voice growing colder: "Some people are accustomed to using ghostwriting tricks. They have never seen a truly brilliant person in their lives, so they assume that all amazing writers in the world are like this. Spreading rumors everywhere is the act of a petty person."

The words ended abruptly, yet their sharpness was even more pronounced than when they had been spoken.

The crowd remained silent, intimidated by the prestige of Tang Yanqing, the top scholar in Suzhou. The one who had raised the objection blushed and felt hot, but dared not say anything more in the argument.

Painted boats on the Qinhuai River.

With a flick of his wide sleeves, Xie Yunmiao, his jade crown reflecting the candlelight in the hall, addressed the hundreds of scholars on the painted boat, saying in a loud voice: "Gentlemen, listen carefully! Today's [Twelve Masters of Jinling] Poetry Gathering is truly a grand event that has not been seen in three years."

He surveyed the room filled with people in blue robes, his voice clear and melodious:

"This poetry gathering is hosted by the Wang and Xie families. The topic was given on the spot, and poems were composed on the spot."

We have specially invited Mr. Gu Yong, a renowned scholar from Nanjing, to serve as the referee.

Judging quality solely by the level of poetry and prose!

In any comparison between [Chuxian] and [Kouzhen], [Chuxian] is clearly superior; if they are evenly matched, then the decision shall be made by Lord Gu!

In the past, the Twelve Poets of Jinling Poetry Gathering was attended only by the disciples of the same family, with only three or five outsiders invited to add embellishment and to mutually praise each other's literary reputation.

Such a grand gathering today, bringing together hundreds of outstanding talents from ten prefectures in Jiangnan, is truly a rare sight.

Outside the painted boat, the thousands of lights on the Qinhuai River dimmed, as if bowing their heads to listen attentively to this grand poetry gathering.

This proposal was immediately met with opposition.

"Wait a minute!"

A sharp shout, as clear as tearing silk.

Tang Yanqing stood up, sleeves fluttering.

His jade crown tilted slightly, and his eyes revealed a sharp glint: "Now that all the talents of the ten prefectures of Jiangnan have gathered here, for the sake of fairness, how can the topic be decided solely by the Wang and Xie families?"
The fact that the questions were all set by the Wang and Xie families inevitably drew criticism, and there were even suspicions of collusion beforehand!

The room was completely silent, with only the river breeze passing through the corridor.

In my opinion—

Tang Yanqing lightly tapped the table with her folding fan, the sound like the clinking of gold and jade. "The talented scholars from the ten prefectures should each give a topic and compose poems on the spot. In this way, no one can cheat, and only then can fairness be shown!"

Before he finished speaking, a commotion broke out at the table.

"Excellent! That's exactly right!"

The scholar in white robes from Hangzhou slammed his fist on the table and laughed loudly, "Even with extraordinary abilities, who can bribe the students of the ten prefectures of Jiangnan?"

"That's how it should be!"

“If each of the ten scholars from the ten prefectures sets a question, then there won’t be any problem! We can’t possibly bribe all the scholars from the ten prefectures!”

The scholars of Yangzhou responded in unison.

They attended this poetry gathering precisely to make a name for themselves. Fearing that someone might secretly contact them, they prepared poems in advance, using petty tricks to trip them up and suppress their literary reputation.

In an instant, the sound of cheers filled the painted boat.

The talented scholars from the ten prefectures applauded and praised the work, and even the palace lanterns on the eaves seemed to tremble.

The sons of the Wang and Xie families looked at each other in bewilderment.

When Wang and Xie's eyes met, a hint of helplessness flashed in both of their eyes.

—That's the downside of having a large number of people at a poetry gathering; it often gets out of their control.

However, referee Gu Yong nodded slightly.

Wang Moqing, Xie Qihe, Lu Jingyue, and other talented men from Jinling City nodded in agreement.

They knew perfectly well that today's literary gathering was set up specifically for Jiang Xingzhou!

With ten prefectures jointly setting the poetry topics, the difficulty increased dramatically. Even they were caught off guard and had no way to prepare, let alone Jiang Xingzhou, which only made him more likely to lose his composure.

The revelation that the Xun Gui Group was working behind the scenes proved that Jiang Xingzhou had no ability to compose poetry on the spot.

Xie Yunmiao's eyes flashed, and she said loudly:
"it is good!"

"Then it shall be as you all wish—"

"In Jiangnan Province, one city and ten prefectures will each present a question!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire pleasure boat fell silent.

Jiangnan Bookstore.

Scholar Yang Xian, his robe sleeves fluttering, rushed into the Jiangnan Bookstore with hurried steps. Beads of sweat were still on his forehead when he exclaimed urgently, "Sir, something terrible has happened!"

The old scholar Zhou Dunshi was reviewing the paper when he heard this. He frowned, paused slightly, and the ink spread out in a shallow line on the Xuan paper.

He raised his head and said in a deep voice, "Xianyu, you are almost forty or fifty years old, a man who knows his destiny. Why are you so impulsive?"

—This Jinling City is the most virtuous place in Jiangnan, with a governor in charge and 100,000 soldiers stationed there. What kind of disaster could possibly befall it?
Yang Xianyu took a deep breath and quickly said, "My lord, the 'Twelve Masters of Jinling' poetry gathering is being held on a painted boat on the Qinhuai River—the topic is given to the public, and poems are composed on the spot!"

Zhou Dunshi paused slightly in his writing, not even bothering to lift his eyelids: "It's just some young lads and scholars making a fuss, what's so special about that?!"

—A poetry gathering of twelve scholars and officials from Jinling?
In the eyes of a scholar of such high rank and noble character, it was nothing more than child's play! After a poetry gathering, only two or three poems were written that were published outside the county, and most of them did not even reach the prefecture level.

Yang Xianyu stamped his feet anxiously: "My lord, Jiang Xingzhou has been invited to this poetry gathering, so he must be composing a poem on the spot!"

"Snapped!"

The purple-tipped brush slammed heavily onto the inkstone, splashing ink everywhere.

"Why didn't you say such an important thing sooner!"

Zhou Dunshi threw down his brush, stood up abruptly, and rushed out in a hurry, not even having time to straighten his robe.

Cloth shoes tread across the bluestone steps, startling the sparrows perched under the eaves.

He would laugh off the poems written by other scholars and graduates.
Jiang Xingzhou was composing a poem, and he couldn't help but go and see it!
A poor scholar, yet he wrote ten essays that reached the heights of literary talent!

He had only ever met one such person in his entire life, and he had always been curious and puzzled as to how Jiang Xingzhou had managed to do it!

Even the thought of "working behind the scenes" has crossed my mind.

He wouldn't give up until he saw Jiang Xingzhou compose poetry with his own eyes.

Jiangnan Bookstore is not far from the banks of the Qinhuai River.

By this time, the banks of the Qinhuai River were already packed with people. By the time Hanlin Academician Zhou Dunshi arrived, the area was already teeming with people, making it impossible to squeeze in.

Zhou Dunshi stood on tiptoe and peered out. He saw blue-clad figures floating on the painted boat, and crowds of people thronging the shore like waves.

The old scholar was so anxious he kept tugging at his beard when he suddenly heard someone calling from upstairs:
"Old Zhou! Please come upstairs quickly and have a look!"

Looking up, one could see several scholars at Mingyue Tower, who had reserved a private room with a wide view and were bowing to each other by the window.

Without saying a word, the old scholar rushed upstairs.

Mingyue Tower offers a commanding view of the Qinhuai River, with every movement on the painted boats clearly visible.

As soon as Zhou Dunshi stepped into the side room facing the street, several scholars respectfully gave up their seats.

"Lord Zhou, you've come at the perfect time!"

"Today's poetry gathering has caused a sensation in Nanjing!"
If it weren't for your editor-in-chief's "Jiangnan Elegant Gathering," which published ten of Jiang Xingzhou's articles about Dafu!
We had no idea that Jiangzhou Prefecture would produce such an amazing genius!

In the past, these scholars might not have cared much about this poetry gathering of the "Twelve Masters of Jinling".

However, the June issue of "Jiangnan" magazine, with its ten serialized articles on "Dafu," had already caused a stir throughout the city.

They couldn't help but take it to heart, and upon hearing about the poetry gathering, they booked a private room at Mingyue Tower well in advance.

"Let alone you all, am I not curious too?!"

Zhou Dunshi smiled, flicked his sleeve, and sat down.

Their eyes were fixed intently on the painted boat, where they saw many talented men in blue robes, but for a moment they could not tell which one was Jiang Xingzhou.

Before they could finish speaking, a clear bell rang out from the painted boat—"Clang! Clang!"

The poetry gathering of the "Twelve Masters of Jinling" has begun.

Seeing that the Wang and Xie families had backed down and that each of the ten prefectures in the city had set a question, Tang Yanqing immediately stepped forward without hesitation.

"Very well! Then let Suzhou Prefecture set the first question! Shall I represent the scholars of Suzhou Prefecture to set this question? Do any of you gentlemen from Suzhou Prefecture have any objections?"

Tang Yanqing took a step forward, and the hem of her robe fluttered even without wind.

"Wow—"

All eyes turned to him like a tidal wave.

"Brother Tang is the top scholar in Suzhou Prefecture, so it is Brother Tang who should set the questions!"

The dozen or so scholars from Suzhou Prefecture bowed and agreed without any objection.

Who could blame Tang Yanqing, who was the top scholar in Suzhou Prefecture this year and had a very high reputation in the prefecture? Who would dare to question the questions set by the top scholar?

If Tang Yanqing is not qualified, then the other scholars in Suzhou Prefecture are even less qualified.

In the center of the painted boat, Tang Yanqing stood with his hands behind his back, his piercing gaze sweeping over the crowd.

"Brothers, listen up!"

"My first question—"

"Since the Tang Dynasty, the most renowned place in Suzhou Prefecture is Hanshan Temple!"

Whenever a scholar or writer passed through Suzhou, they would invariably visit Hanshan Temple and leave behind a piece of calligraphy among the steles! Throughout history, the forest of steles has been like an array, and the poems and essays have been as numerous as a deep pool!

To date, hundreds of articles from Hanshan Temple have been inscribed in the Stele Forest.

The first topic for today's poetry gathering is to write a poem, lyric, or essay on the theme of "Hanshan Temple," with no restrictions on subject matter!

Tang Yanqing stood with his hands behind his back, a sharp glint in his eyes, and a smile playing on his lips:
"One stick of incense for a limited time!"

I'll stop writing now that the incense has burned out!

Brothers, please—!

As he spoke, he picked up his brush and wrote a poem.

The servant on the pleasure boat immediately lit a stick of sandalwood incense in the incense burner.

"Shh!"

A dozen or so talented men from Suzhou smiled and simultaneously picked up their brushes, their ink fluttering like snowflakes on the Xuan paper.

The Suzhou scholar had already memorized the topic of Hanshan Temple, and now, picking up his pen was as easy as slicing a ripe melon!
"Night Visit to Hanshan Temple - Autumn Bell"

"Remembering Hanshan"

"The Bell Tolls at Hanshan Temple"

The poem titles were announced one after another, like the beating of drums in an army formation, one after another, with an imposing momentum!

As soon as the question was posed, everyone on the many pleasure boats and the crowds watching along the Qinhuai River gasped in shock.

As expected of Tang Yanqing, the top scholar in Suzhou Prefecture, the level of his exam questions was truly astounding.

This question is clearly a blatant conspiracy!

Because this is a publicly available exam question.

Hanshan Temple is so famous that many scholars have written poems and lyrics about it.

Even among the scholars, licentiates, and jinshi present on the banks of the Qinhuai River today, many have probably written poems and lyrics at Hanshan Temple—but very few are qualified to have their works engraved on stone tablets and left in the stele forest within Hanshan Temple.

Therefore, even if you prepare poems and essays in advance, you won't gain any advantage.

Who could write more about Hanshan Temple than the scholars of Suzhou?!

This is Tang Yanqing's open scheme—

To stand out on this topic, one must be exceptionally talented!
Xie Qihe of the Jinling Xie family picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, and his eyes flickered slightly.

"Brother Tang, you have a brilliant plan!"

There is no shortcut to solving this problem; only true talent will do!

—The Hanshan Temple has stood for a thousand years with numerous poetry steles, and scholars and poets of all dynasties have left their mark. Today, when they inscribe again, how can it be an ordinary one?
With hundreds of excellent works already written, how can one come up with something new?
If one writes mediocrely, wouldn't that be inviting humiliation upon oneself?

Soon, Xie Qihe wrote a short poem, "Dreaming of Hanshan Temple"!
The scholars of Suzhou wielded their pens like knives, their ink flowing like rain, and their faces beamed with smiles.

"We've been visiting temples since childhood, and our bookcases are already overflowing with poems. Composing a poem today is just a matter of picking one up at the drop of a hat! Here's a poem titled 'Remembering Hanshan Temple'!"

"I have finished writing this article, please take a look!"
Revisiting Hanshan Temple – The Forest of Steles is Full of Phrases by Our Predecessors
I smiled and nodded, plucking a flower as an example!

Poetry recitations rose and fell, and in the blink of an eye, more than ten new works had been produced.

Gu Yong, a scholar who had passed the imperial examination, sat in the seat of honor on the painted boat as a judge at the poetry gathering.

A stick of sandalwood incense rises gently amidst the smoke, each stick representing a quarter of an hour. This is enough time for most writers to compose a short poem.

A short while later, the incense had burned halfway, and the poems were as white as snow.

All the articles written by people were submitted to him for evaluation.

He quickly perused the poems and essays submitted by the scholars, his fingers flying across the page, his vermilion annotations flashing like lightning—

"Night Visit to Hanshan Temple: Autumn Bell"—Hearing the Hometown!

"Remembering Hanshan - Unranked!"

"The Bell Tolls at Hanshan Temple—A Sound to Resound!"

"From 'Dreaming of Cold Mountain,' a dream is disturbed by the sound of pine breeze."

The moon is waning outside Hanshan Temple. '—[Leaving the county]! Xie Qihe! Excellent, excellent poem!'

Gu Yong judged a hundred poems and lyrics, and finally saw one that was published in the county. He straightened up abruptly, slammed his hand on the table and exclaimed in delight.

The incense is burning out!

Among hundreds of poems and essays, he surprisingly sentenced five to be expelled from the county.

"good!
In previous years, the "Twelve Masters of Jinling" poetry gathering would only produce three poems that were "outside the county" (i.e., poems from outside the county) at a time. But today, the first theme of this poetry gathering produced five poems in one go!
Jiangnan Circuit, with its one city and ten prefectures, truly boasts a flourishing literary tradition and produces numerous talented individuals!

Gu Yong's eyes gleamed with admiration.

However, to his bewilderment, none of the scholars from Jiangzhou Prefecture submitted any poems or essays; not a single one.

Jiang Xingzhou did not put pen to paper.

Meanwhile, none of the dozen or so scholars from Jiangzhou Prefecture—Han Yugui, Shen Zhiyun, Cao An, and Lu Ming—put down a pen.

They had experienced far too much and were extremely experienced—whenever Jiang Xingzhou was present, except for the imperial examinations, they would never dare to write a single word, lest they bring shame upon themselves.

Xie Qihe chuckled lightly, hands behind his back, glancing sideways at the boats sailing on the river, and asked with a smile:

"Eh? Brother Jiang, why are all the scholars of Jiangzhou Prefecture hesitant to put pen to paper? Are they perhaps intimidated by this literary talent?" He pointed to the incense table. "The incense has burned down to the length of a thumb. Are the talented scholars of Jiangzhou about to be completely wiped out?"

Jiang Xingzhou raised his eyes, a faint smile in them, yet like the moon reflected in a cold pool, clear and profound.

He tapped his fingertips lightly on the table, his voice unhurried and deliberate:

"Please go first, everyone."

After a slight pause, he added:
"Jiang, write last."

He knew all too well that once he put pen to paper, no one else could write this poem.

Inside the painted boat, the entire room fell silent.

The scholars either curled their lip or sneered, all saying that this person was extremely arrogant.

As dusk settles, the surface of the Qinhuai River shimmers with golden light, and the lights on both banks are reflected in the water, resembling a cascading galaxy.

The riverbank was packed with people, yet utterly silent.

Thousands of eyes were fixed on the painted boat, and people held their breath, all watching the boat as if afraid to disturb the pen that was still hanging in the air.

"I wonder what kind of poems Young Master Jiang is capable of writing?"

Everyone wondered to themselves, their eyes burning with intense curiosity.

"Even if he only writes a piece about leaving the county, at least he won't be unworthy of the name of Jiangzhou's talented scholar. I'm afraid... I'm afraid he won't even be able to meet this minimum expectation!"

A sudden breeze stirred the river, ruffling the reflections of the lamps in the pond.

The figure on the pleasure boat finally moved—

In the center of the painted boat, the incense had burned out, leaving only a few embers.

Jiang Xingzhou lowered his gaze slightly, sweeping over the wisp of incense that was about to go out, then suddenly raised his head—a cold glint flashed in his eyes, like a sword being drawn from its sheath!

When Han Yugui, Cao An, Lu Ming, and other scholars from Jiangzhou Prefecture saw that Jiang Xingzhou was about to start writing, they immediately gathered around to watch.

Jiang Xingzhou picked up his brush and stood up. The snow-white Xuan paper was spread out on the table. Before the ink even touched the paper, the literary aura was already awe-inspiring!

With a sudden movement of the pen, talent is poured forth!
Two moments—

A seven-character quatrain is complete!

"[Mooring at Maple Bridge at Night]"

The sky is full of frost and moon, Jiang Feng Yuhuo is sad.

Outside Suzhou city, at Hanshan Temple, the midnight bell tolls, reaching the traveler's boat.

The final stroke reveals its sharpness!

"Zheng——!"

The Xuan paper suddenly exploded with a loud bang, like the clear sound of a sword, and in an instant, brilliant light burst forth, filling the entire hall of the painted boat with radiance!
The poem was completed, and that was it—Mingzhou!
Jiang Xingzhou stood on the painted boat, hands behind his back, and suddenly recited aloud:
"[Moonset]——"

The two words fell like metal and stone, their sound resounding throughout the Qinhuai River!

In an instant——

The clouds above Nanjing suddenly dispersed, and a crescent moon descended from the western sky, its cool moonlight pouring down like a celestial river, directly piercing the painted boat.

The entire Qinhuai River became still, the shimmering waves transformed into countless shattered jade fragments, and a hazy moonlit mist rose around the painted boats, as if a banished immortal had descended to earth.

The silvery light, like a ribbon, descended from the heavens, instantly bathing the entire painted boat in the color of frost and snow.

Jiang Xingzhou stood at the bow of the boat, his clothes fluttering, and a cool light flowing through his hair.

The moonlight seemed unlike anything found in the mortal world; it appeared to pour forth from a thousand-year-old poem, carrying with it an ancient desolation and loneliness.

The river surface was frozen, the ripples as if encased in ice, unable to reflect any image; only the moonlight, like gauze, spread silently.

"This"

"What kind of strange phenomenon is this?"

On both banks of the Qinhuai River, countless people and scholars in Jinling City looked up in astonishment, only to see the moonlight growing brighter and brighter, gradually turning into a tangible stream of silver!
A terrifying aura of talent, descending from the heavens, swirled and gathered around Jiang Xingzhou, filling his robes.

Then, word by word, as he uttered them, they manifested in the void!

“[The crow cries]—”

The moment those two words were uttered, the celestial phenomena changed drastically!
The moonlight, sharp as a blade, cleaved through the night.

Several dark figures swooped down from the clouds; they were a flock of crow demon generals, their iron feathers tearing through the sky!

“Quack—!”

The hoarse cry, the instant it exploded, caused fine ice patterns to freeze on the surface of the entire Qinhuai River.

On the painted boats of the Qinhuai River, onlookers on both banks felt as if they had fallen into an ice cave, some even realizing with a start that their wine cups were covered in frost.

The Zuo Zhuan records: "The cawing of crows is an omen of misfortune, a sign of impending death."

This is an ominous bird of death, its dark silhouette circling before the moon, forming a bizarre totem, as if a messenger from the underworld had written an obituary!

"[Frost fills the sky]——"

The three words fell to the ground, and heaven and earth fell silent.

In an instant——

The moonlight above Jinling City suddenly froze, turning into billions of frost crystals that fell in a flurry.

That frost was not the color of snow in the mortal world.

Instead, it exudes a profound scholarly atmosphere.

Each flake of frost and ice reflects ancient seal script, producing a clear, metallic sound as it falls.

The entire city of Jinling began to fade.

A few inches of thin ice formed on the surface of the Qinhuai River amidst the frost, and frost flowers bloomed on the carved railings of the painted boats.

The lights on both sides of the river went out one by one, leaving only frost patterns spreading between the bricks and tiles, turning the city of Nanjing into a pale inscription.

The most terrifying thing is—

The frost marks seemed to spread on their own along the city walls of Nanjing, gradually covering them and eventually forming fragments of the Book of Songs: "[The reeds are green, the white dew is like frost.]"
"[Jiangfeng Fishing Lights]——"

The four words were uttered!
Suddenly, a long, illusory river appeared to split open in the sky, like a splash of ink, stretching across Jinling.

The maple leaves on the river rustled in the wind, each one stained crimson, falling as if scorched by flames—

"Wow!"

Suddenly the river parted, and a small black awning emerged from the shimmering reflection of the long river.

The old fisherman at the bow of the boat was hunched over like a bow, holding a fishing fire in his hand, which seemed to have come from the stars. The small blue flame was no bigger than a bean, but it made the frost crystals in the sky sizzle and steam!
The most breathtaking thing is—

What surged beneath the old man's straw raincoat was not river water, but rather a solidified aura of war, a river of time that had traversed a thousand years.

The river of time carries "Arrowheads from the Warring States period, long-handled swords from the late Tang Dynasty, and broken halberds from the Han Dynasty." Thousands of fierce soldiers rise and fall in the waves, turning the fishing lights into blood-red lamps of hell!
"[Sleepless with sorrow]——"

The two words were uttered, and all was silent.

A terrifying sense of sorrow instantly enveloped the city of Jinling.

Everyone was bewildered, their souls trembling, and they were overwhelmed with countless sorrows, as if their souls had left their bodies and they were lost in a daze!
"[Hanshan Temple outside Suzhou]——"

The seven-syllable mantra, like a bell breaking the dawn!
The illusory image of the long river suddenly solidified, and a majestic ancient temple rose from the waves, its green bricks and gray tiles bearing the marks of a thousand years of incense, standing firm amidst the waves of history.

The temple gate creaked open, and a dim, yellow candlelight spilled across the river. Where the light shone, the frost patterns faded into Sanskrit characters of the Diamond Sutra, and the malevolent energy of the weapons melted into guardian Vajra images.

"[The midnight bell tolls—to the passenger ship]"

"Boom--!"

A bell tolled through the sky, like the sigh of an ancient deity, shaking the long river of history and causing ripples to spread.

The thousand-year-old bronze bell of Hanshan Temple, unseen by anyone, resonated with a sound that transformed into rings of golden Sanskrit characters, rippling through time and space.

Wherever the Sanskrit text passed, mountains and rivers trembled, and literary energy surged, as if to awaken the slumbering dreams of the Six Dynasties.

And just as the lingering echo of the bell's tolling had not yet faded—

"Squeak-yah-"

A small, covered passenger boat pierces through the mists of time, silently moored at the end of the long river of years. Its hull is mottled and covered with moss, every grain of wood etched with the marks of a thousand years of wind and frost.

A handsome and aloof young scholar stood at the bow of the ship.

Vermilion dots adorn her eyebrows, frost stains her temples.

A sword hung at his waist, his robes fluttering in the wind.

He arrived by boat, accompanied by the ancient tolling of bells!

It seems to have stepped out from the tattered pages of "The Literary Mind and the Carving of Dragons," or taken shape from the ink marks of "A New Account of Tales of the World."

On the other side of the long river, the tolling of bells has not yet ceased.

His eyes reflected the moonlight of the entire Tang and Han dynasties.

The ship's hull is mottled, as if it has weathered a thousand years of wind and frost, and it has finally reached the other shore.

"This"

"How is this possible?!"

"That illusory silhouette of the passenger ship on the long river... is it Jiang Xingzhou?!"

On the banks of the Qinhuai River, inside and outside the painted boats, crowds were in an uproar.

Countless ordinary people stared in disbelief, while scholars and literati turned pale, their eyes filled with shock and bewilderment.

"It's the sweltering heat of June, how could frost, a frost typically associated with late autumn, suddenly descend upon us? This...!"

"Look at the sky! Those dark figures are actually flying demon generals formed from talent?!"

"My God! This frost-covered sky evokes the extraordinary celestial phenomenon described in the Book of Songs: 'The reeds are green, the dew is white as frost'! What astonishing poetic sentiment that can resonate with literary spirit to this extent!"

"I felt as if I had been swept into the river of time, with scenes of swords flashing and shadows looming before my eyes. When I came to my senses, I was drenched in cold sweat!"

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

"Boom--!"

The five chimes of the bell, like thunderclaps, resounded throughout Nanjing!
The poem is finished, and the fame spreads throughout the land!
In an instant, the entire city of Jinling was in an uproar—

In the shimmering waves of the Qinhuai River,
In the stained glass lights of the painted boat,

Between the vermilion pillars of the Confucian Temple,

Before the bluestone steps of the examination hall, and from the mottled brick seams of the ancient city wall, countless brilliant talents burst forth!

This vast literary atmosphere, like an inverted Milky Way, reflects the moonlight on the painted boats of the Qinhuai River. In an instant, it fills every street and alley, every brick and tile of Nanjing.

The misty rain of the Six Dynasties seemed to stand still, with only the echoing bells of the Confucian Temple reverberating between heaven and earth.

It went on for a long time!

On the painted boats of the Qinhuai River, the candlelight flickered red.

Jiang Xingzhou hadn't even put down his brush when the Xuan paper on the table began to gleam.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, that page of "A Night Mooring by Maple Bridge" quickly shed its ordinary paper form!
The pages trembled and shook, like the clanging of clashing swords and the clashing of iron horses.

As the ink flowed, it condensed into strokes of silver hooks and iron lines, each character floating three inches in the air, radiating dazzling literary light.

The entire sheet of Xuan paper transformed into the texture of crystal and jade, ringing loudly on the table, as if it were about to break through the air!

"This is the first book in [Mingzhou]!"

The scholars on the boat were horrified.

The cultural treasures of Mingzhou have now appeared in Jinling!
Upstairs in Mingyue Tower, the air in a private room is filled with the fragrance of sandalwood.

"The poem is complete, and its fame resounds throughout the land!"

Hanlin Academician Zhou Dunshi suddenly stood up in surprise, his expression one of disbelief.

"[The moon sets, crows hoof their hooves, frost fills the sky; river maples, fishing lights, I lie awake with sorrow!]"

Suzhou, outside the city, Hanshan Temple, midnight, the bell tolls, reaching the passenger boat!

The old scholar's voice trembled as he recited the words, one by one.

"Wonderful! The three words 'sleeping with sorrow' perfectly capture the melancholy of human life!"

Looking at the assembled scholars, he said, "This 'midnight bell tolls to the passenger boat'—sweeping away the hustle and bustle of life, washing away the superficiality, untouched by any dust, it is truly the sound of heaven!"

"This single piece surpasses all three hundred in the Hanshan Temple Stele Forest!"

"Only this one piece. No other article in the world can match the title 'Hanshan Temple'!"

Hanlin Academician Zhou Dunshi couldn't help but burst into tears, and staggered a little.

The moonlight outside the window was like water, reflecting off his white hair and beard.

"Good! Good boy! I have wasted decades in the Hanlin Academy and have only managed to produce one essay on Mingzhou!"

He suddenly threw his head back and laughed, but his laughter was choked with sobs.

Inside the private room of Mingyue Tower, the expressions of the five or six Jinshi (successful candidates in the highest imperial examinations) changed drastically. They looked at each other, their eyes filled with shock and bewilderment.

"This is impossible!"

Someone suddenly stood up, their sleeves billowing over their teacup, yet they were completely unaware.

"Cheating? Plotting behind the scenes? Absolutely impossible!"
Even if we invited scholars and great Confucian masters to write this piece, none of them could surpass it!
Such poetic talent, how many people in the world can possess it?

"But how could Jiang Xingzhou, a mere scholar, have written such a... astonishing work as 'Mingzhou'?!"

"This piece should be the title of 'Hanshan Temple,' the first and perhaps only one of its kind throughout history!"

One of the scholars muttered to himself, slumped into his seat, his voice trembling, as if he was still immersed in the lingering charm of the poem, unable to come back to his senses for a long time.

The private room was completely silent.

After a long silence, someone finally let out a long sigh, their voice trembling slightly:

"With this piece published, I'm afraid no one will dare to pick up a pen again on the topic of 'Hanshan Temple'..."

Another person lightly tapped the table with their fingertips, their gaze intense:

"It's not just that I dare not pick up a pen; this poem has completely captured the essence of Hanshan Temple in Suzhou. I'm afraid that even in the next thousand years, it will be difficult to find another poem that can rival it!"

The scholars remained silent.

On the Qinhuai River, the lights on the painted boats suddenly came to a halt.

"boom--"

Gu Yong swayed suddenly, his knuckles gripping the edge of the table tightly, his face ashen.

As a scholar who had passed the imperial examinations, he could easily critique works written in the "Leaving the County" style, but when it came to works written in the "Great Prefecture" style—he didn't even have the qualifications to judge them!
Not to mention, articles of the [Mingzhou] level!
The jade-shaped fan in Xie Qihe's hand fell to the ground with a "crack," and Xie Yunmiao staggered back half a step, barely managing to stand up by holding onto the carved railing.

wrong……

Big mistake!

They originally intended to use this poetry gathering of the "Twelve Masters of Jinling" to force Jiang Xingzhou to write a poor article, revealing his true colors and ugly behavior!
However, unexpectedly, Jiang Xingzhou was forced to write an article titled "[Mingzhou]", which instantly made him stand out from the crowd!
His talent far surpassed that of the scholars and officials from the ten prefectures who frequented the pleasure boats on the Qinhuai River!

At this moment, the scions of the Wang and Xie families were filled with nothing but horror.

This poetry gathering of the "Twelve Masters of Jinling" was nothing more than a ridiculous farce that brought shame upon themselves, and it only served to promote Jiang Xingzhou's literary fame!

But now, they are in a dilemma, unable to back down or advance!

Suddenly, a mournful cry was heard from the banks of the Qinhuai River, and a scholar covered his face and wept bitterly.

Why are you so grieving, brother?

Those around asked in surprise.

The scholar looked up to the sky and lamented, "From this day forward, how dare I ever pick up my pen again to write about 'Hanshan Temple'?!"

These words struck the scholars of Suzhou like a thunderbolt.

The scholars, who had just been immersed in the joy of the poetry gathering, were now all in tears.

Yes!

How can these Suzhou scholars ever have the face to write about Hanshan Temple again?

Whenever I think about today, I feel so ashamed that I wish I could disappear into the ground.

In an instant, the Qinhuai River's painted boats and both banks were filled with deafening cries!

Those scholars and officials from Suzhou Prefecture were now beating their chests and stamping their feet in grief.

"Alas, how tragic it is to lose my Hanshan Temple in Suzhou!"

"Alas, how tragic it is to lose my Maple Bridge in Suzhou!"

Their proudest scenic spot in Suzhou, a place that scholars visiting Suzhou would always visit, has today been overshadowed by a scholar from Jiangzhou with a poem called "A Night Mooring at Maple Bridge"!

What a disgrace to the scholars of Suzhou!

"Woo——"

The scholar who had been the most vocal earlier suddenly knelt down, filled with regret, and slammed his forehead heavily on the bluestone slab: "Brother Tang Yanqing is right! I judged you with the mind of a petty person, and I have truly... truly wasted my time studying the classics!"
-
A long chapter of 9600 words, please vote with monthly tickets!
(End of this chapter)