Chapter 47: Lin'an Shaken Once More!

After all, it involved one hundred thousand taels of silver!
After all, it also concerned the dignity of scholars.
Since the poem Chen Xiaofu had just recited was peerless, how would his mastery of *ci* poetry measure up next?
Everyone quieted down once again, and all the scholars pricked up their ears.
Today's cultural exchange was supposed to be ordinary, but now it had turned extraordinary due to Chen Xiaofu’s sudden emergence and his high-stakes wager with the young noble from Qi.
The scholars of Lin'an Academy had originally been eager to test their mettle against the twelve prodigies of Qi, and Li Sanqiu had originally thought he was the protagonist of this gathering, but now they realized they were merely supporting players.
Even Li Sanqiu no longer cared whether he could claim the top spot.
To his own astonishment, he found himself rooting for Chen Xiaofu to defeat the youth named Yu Fu!
For no other reason than—
Chen Xiaofu was, after all, a man of Great Zhou.
If Chen Xiaofu won, Great Zhou won!
The onlookers below the stage had completely changed their preconceived notions of Chen Xiaofu, and they too hoped he would win.
Because Chen Xiaofu was a son of Lin'an!
The old matriarch of the thatched courtyard in Huaxi was a wonderful person.
And this Young Master Chen was actually not bad at heart either.
Today, Chen Xiaofu had already given them an overwhelming surprise, one whose value far exceeded the ten-liang price of admission.
If Chen Xiaofu were to win yet another round, it would give them something to boast about for the rest of their lives.
Not only had they witnessed a magical romance with their own eyes,
they had also witnessed the birth of a legend—
If Chen Xiaofu claimed the crown once more, he would undoubtedly become a legend!
So, what would the theme of the verse set by the venerable grand scholar be?
"Flowers do not bloom twice, a person is never young again."
"Hearing these lines, this old man feels a deep stirring of emotion."
"A youth should harbor soaring ambitions, yet a youth also bears youthful sorrows."
"Today’s *ci* shall take youth as its theme; you may write of its ambitions, its sorrows, its joys, or its anxieties."
With these words, the venerable Grand Scholar Xu glanced at Qi Yufu, and then looked at Chen Xiaofu.
"We shall use the time of a single hourglass once again. I ask all scholars to express your innermost feelings freely and compose your pieces."
"Timing... begins!"
Elder Headmaster Li flipped the hourglass.
All the scholars wore expressions of deep contemplation.
Liang Jingru looked at Chen Xiaofu’s back, wondering how long this fellow would need to brew his inspiration this time.
An Xiaowei gazed at Chen Xiaofu’s face with deep affection in her eyes.
Then, she saw Chen Xiaofu break into a radiant smile.
Right under everyone's watchful eyes, Chen Xiaofu walked toward a desk on the stage and turned back to beckon to An Xiaowei:
"Xiaowei, come, help me grind the ink!"
Qi Yufu started in sudden shock, Mo Zhiqiu furrowed his brow, and Shang Qianwen felt his heart skip a beat.
Down below, Hongxiu also widened her pretty eyes.
The four judges on the stage were equally stunned on the spot!
Before the venerable Grand Scholar Xu had even returned to his judge's table, he spun around and stared directly at Chen Xiaofu!
How long had it been since the prompt was given?
No more than ten breaths of time!
The scholars of Lin'an Academy were still searching for the emotional resonance of youth, and the twelve prodigies of Qi had yet to form any ideas, yet this scoundrel...
Was he actually ready to write his answer already?
Grand Scholar Xu walked over and stood right behind Chen Xiaofu.
An Xiaowei lifted her sleeves to grind the ink, while Chen Xiaofu picked up his brush and dipped it into the ink.
Without the slightest hesitation, he set brush to paper.
A complete *ci* poem materialized before the eyes of An Xiaowei and Xu Zizhou!
Unable to suppress her curiosity any longer, Liang Jingru walked over as well.
She stretched out her neck for a peek...
A moment later, she looked at the twelve scholars of Qi upon the stage with a gaze full of pity:
"You lot are truly out of luck."
"If your opponents had been the Six Prodigies of the Imperial Capital, you might have stood a chance, but you chose the wrong opponent indeed."
She looked toward Qi Yufu, the corners of her lips curling up:
"You've lost. Give him the one hundred thousand taels of silver. On such a hot day, you might as well head back and cool off."
Qi Yufu drew a sharp breath and stubbornly retorted, "This young master hasn't lost yet!"
Liang Jingru curled her lip: "We have a saying in Great Zhou: 'never shed a tear until you see the coffin,' and another about a dead duck with a stiff beak..."
"This heroine says you've lost, so you've lost!"
"Don't believe me? Go look at the verse he just wrote yourself, and tell me if you think you can surpass it."
At this moment, the venerable Grand Scholar Xu also turned and walked back to them.
Half of his aged face was filled with delight—
Delight at Chen Xiaofu’s poem, composed virtually without a moment's thought, which captured the sorrow of youth with divine perfection. To his understanding, the sorrow in this verse was unprecedented.
As for whether there would be anyone to match it in the future, who could say?
And the other half of his face was filled with sorrow!
These twelve disciples he had nurtured over the years were hailed as the twelve great hopes of Qi’s literary world, and everyone believed that the future grand scholars of Qi would inevitably emerge from among them.
He had brought these twelve disciples to participate in the Book Mountain Literary Gathering hosted by the Great Zhou Dynasty next autumn, primarily, of course, to travel and broaden their horizons.
And secondly, to make their names known!
He believed that at next autumn’s Book Mountain Literary Gathering, the champion would undoubtedly emerge from his twelve disciples.
It would either be Mo Zhiqiu, or Qi Yufu!
Coming to Lin'an, his original intention was simply to see Zhuang Qingdie once more.
They were all old now.
He had no idea how many years he had left to live.
After this trip to Great Zhou, the remainder of his life would be spent in Qi, and it would be difficult for him ever to travel to Great Zhou again.
Thus, in Xu Zizhou’s eyes, this meeting with Zhuang Qingdie would be their final parting.
He had written about these innermost thoughts in a letter to An Xiaowei’s grandfather, An Jingwen, calling it old affection.
He had said he went to Lin'an for the sake of love!
In truth, love had long since left him far behind, but in his heart... there still resided that girl in a white dress, holding a long sword, cutting down plum branches and warming wine amidst the swirling snow!
He had gone to the courtyard in Huaxi last night.
He had failed to see that girl.
Chen Linyuan had told him she had gone to the Imperial Capital.
Upon parting, Chen Linyuan had said... she would likely return within these few days.
Since he had nothing better to do, he decided to wait for her return at Lin'an Academy.
Zhuang Qingdie had yet to return, but her grandson had handed him an earth-shattering surprise, and dealt a devastating blow to his twelve disciples!
Xu Zizhou looked at his twelve disciples and spoke quietly:
"If you can write... then write."
His words sounded somewhat pessimistic, and to Qi Yufu and the others, they meant: if you cannot write, you might as well give up.
Therefore...
"Sir, how high is the caliber of his verse?"
Xu Zizhou took a deep breath and deliberated for three breaths: "At least as high as the sixth tier of the Literature Peak Pavilion!"
"Can you all write a verse capable of entering the seventh tier of the Literature Peak Pavilion?"
Everyone was utterly shocked!
Qi Yufu swallowed hard, stepped forward, and walked toward the desk where Chen Xiaofu stood.
He picked up the piece of paper on the table and softly chanted aloud:
"In my youth, I knew nothing of the flavor of sorrow,
I loved to climb the storied towers, I loved to climb the storied towers,
To compose new verses, I forced myself to speak of sorrow.
Now I have tasted the full flavor of sorrow to its core,
I want to speak, yet hold my tongue, I want to speak, yet hold my tongue,
And instead I simply say, 'What a fine, crisp autumn day...'"
Qi Yufu’s hands trembled slightly as he held the paper.
"'To compose new verses, I forced myself to speak of sorrow,'
'And instead I simply say, "What a fine, crisp autumn day..."'"
His fingers loosened, and the sheet of paper fluttered up on the wind.
Drifting away,
it floated down toward the crowd below!
Hongxiu raised her hand, and a ribbon of red fluttered upward.
She used her red sleeve to catch the paper!
She reached out a hand and pinched the delicate sheet between her fingers.
Up on the stage,
Qi Yufu’s heart was filled with insurmountable melancholy.
His eyes lost their focus.
His complexion turned ashen white.
At that moment, he looked completely bereft of his soul!
He staggered backward two steps, and suddenly coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood!
He let out a roaring cry: " Heavens... since you created Fu, why did you have to create Fu as well?"
His body tipped backward, but the bearded warrior flashed forward, caught him in his arms, and held him up.
Down below,
Hongxiu suddenly unfolded her figure, and she too leaped into the air!
Clad in a crimson dress, she looked like a rose blooming in mid-air!
She looked toward Chen Xiaofu with a joyful expression.
Floating in the sky, she loudly recited the poem aloud... as she drifted toward the rear of the crowd.
When the verse was finished, she had already flown to the very edge of the crowd.
Abruptly, she turned her head and shouted loudly at Chen Xiaofu:
"Ji'an!"
"My name is Hongxiu!"
"I'll be waiting for you at the Appreciation of the Moon Tower..."
"The gentleman has his poems and verses... and this concubine has her wine!"