Jiang Songyi's eyes sparkled like stars as he spoke firmly, "This is absolutely not fiction. Master is a hermit living in seclusion in an ancient temple deep in the mountains. His whereabouts are uncertain, and his pseudonym cannot be revealed. However, I can recite all the poems of the poet Li He from Master's study."
When these words came out, whether it was Yu Huanshen and other wealthy young men who usually enjoyed elegance, or Li Tingxun and his group of hardworking and studious students from poor families, they were all extremely surprised, "Really?"
Yu Huanshen prided himself on his family's rich collection of books, but he never readily shared rare and unique copies with the public. "How could Miss Jiang be willing to share such a precious and unique copy with the world's scholars?"
Students like Li Tingxun, who came from humble backgrounds, were well aware of the aristocratic families' monopoly on knowledge and books. They longed to hold these treasures tightly in their hands so that only their descendants could benefit from them. How could they easily share these rare books with these poor students?
There were pens, ink, paper and inkstone in the study. Jiang Songyi started writing and finished the poem in an instant.
Old Madam Jiang stood by and witnessed the whole process. She had originally planned that if Jiang Songyi became interested in poetry, calligraphy, rituals and music, she would hire a talented female teacher to guide her after returning home. However, she did not expect that Jiang Songyi would finish the calligraphy in one stroke, showing her elegant and graceful style.
Her handwriting is different from the elegant and graceful style of ordinary ladies. Instead, it is elegant yet has a kind of otherworldly elegance, powerful and majestic, as if she can determine the fate of the world with her pen.
The scholars and students around couldn't help but praise it when they saw it.
"Miss Jiang's handwriting is unique and has both the elegance of a scholar and the boldness of a general!"
"Throughout Jindu, it's rumored that Miss Yuyao of the Yongding Marquis's mansion is incredibly talented and proficient in calligraphy. However, the talent of this little-known Miss Jiang is even more exceptional. They say Miss Jiang has been living in the countryside, but in my opinion, perhaps she's been secretly nurtured by the Marquis's mansion for years?"
Yu Huanshen patted Jiang Baichuan on the shoulder and jokingly said, "Jiang Er, you know how I often heard your father comment on the handwriting of the Marquis of Yongding in the court: it was as rough as a dog chewing mud. However, your handwriting has inherited your father's true style and is quite elegant. What's surprising is that your sister's handwriting is so beautiful. It can be said that the handwriting reflects the person, both inner and outer."
Hearing this, Jiang Baichuan smiled playfully: "Go away, don't think I can't hear you're beating around the bush to insult me."
However, Jiang Songyi's outstanding performance made her elder brother Jiang Bochuan feel a little useless.
Off to the side, Li Tingxun rolled up his sleeves and meticulously ground ink for Jiang Songyi. His gaze was as cold as ice, gazing at every word she wrote. "Excuse me, young lady, what exactly does the Lingyan Pavilion in 'Please visit the Lingyan Pavilion for a while, as a scholar will become a marquis?'"
Everything Jiang Songyi learned came from her mentor, and she's unsure whether these stories will be passed down to the world.
"The Lingyan Pavilion is a tall building specially built to commemorate those meritorious officials with outstanding achievements and painted with their portraits."
Although Li Tingxun and others had never heard of these stories, they all regarded them as treasures from a foreign country. They secretly guessed that perhaps Jiang Songyi's master had traveled around the world and collected these precious stories one by one.
Jiang Songyi effortlessly wrote down over twenty poems in a row. "The poetic genius Li He wrote far more than these. My master once said he wrote over two hundred poems, but these are the only ones left in the world."
The students all sighed and felt it was a pity that they could not fully enjoy such delicious food.
"This young lady is truly gifted. Her piece, 'Li Ping's Introduction to the Konghou,' is truly breathtaking, with every word a gem."
Li Tingxun bowed to Jiang Songyi and said, "Miss Jiang, could you please give us a copy of your poem so we can take it back to Bailu Academy and savor it carefully?"
Jiang Songyi smiled and replied, "Mr. Li, please feel free to use it."
In her previous life, she and her master lived in a small house deep in the mountains. Whenever her master opened a scroll to read, his expression would always be nostalgic, as if he was reminiscing about a distant past that was out of reach. Her master had repeatedly lamented that these cultural treasures, as brilliant as the stars, should never be buried in the dust, but should be available for everyone to appreciate.
With Jiang Songyi's permission, the students present, whether they were young men from prominent families or scholars from humble backgrounds, all borrowed paper and pens from the owner of the study, and rushed to surround Jiang Songyi to begin copying the poems.
As they painted, they praised Jiang Songyi highly.
"Miss Jiang is truly open-minded and magnanimous. She is so generous and selfless, even a saint would be no better than her!"
"The world's scholars will surely appreciate Miss Jiang's generosity."
After hearing these words, Jiang Songyi suddenly recalled some fragments of the past, but she did not answer.
She does not seek gratitude from the world; she is simply fulfilling the unfulfilled wish of her master. Her master once imparted knowledge and wisdom to her, and she is willing to contribute even a small amount of her strength to her master.
Yu Huanshen bowed respectfully to Jiang Songyi and said, "Miss Jiang, I have something to discuss with you."
Jiang Songyi glanced at him lightly and said calmly, "What can I do for you?"
Yu Huanshen looked at her sincerely, "I am willing to fund the compilation of these poems by Miss Jiang, so that the masterpieces of the poetic genius Li He can be passed down through the ages."
Jiang Songyi has long had this wish in her heart. She longs to let her master's precious poems be passed down through the ages. However, the huge manpower and material resources required to print books, coupled with the control of book publishing rights by aristocratic families and the intricate conflicts of interest behind them, have made her hesitate.
The wealthy scholars around Yu Huanshen all echoed: "Brother Huanshen, how can you take all the credit for such a historic event? We are also willing to contribute to the compilation of the poetry collection!"
"Indeed, the Feihua Yaji we compiled together with Brother Huanshen was just a small-scale cultural entertainment. Now we should make great achievements and accomplish something great!"
Li Tingxun also bowed respectfully and said, "Miss Jiang, although I am poor and have no money, I hope to do my part to carry on the teachings of the sages."
Those students from poor families also expressed their willingness to join. After all, they did not want to get something for nothing and plagiarize the poems that Jiang Songyi had memorized.
Old Madam Jiang was observing quietly from the side. Her eldest grandson, Jiang Shengjin, was currently studying at Bailu Academy and was interested in a career in politics, so she was familiar with the factions of these students.
This group of elegant, wealthy and talented scholars headed by Yu Huanshen, and the poor students headed by Li Tingxun, usually looked down on each other and had clear boundaries between them. They had many fierce discussions and debates in the teahouses of Jindu City, neither of them giving in, and they were like water and fire.
Unexpectedly, today, because of Jiang Songyi, their granddaughter who came from the countryside, they put aside their past grudges and were willing to work together to compile the book.
Seeing everyone's support for Jiang Songyi, Jiang Bochuan, as her older brother, was not willing to be left behind. He resolutely said, "I want to contribute too! I will buy this study and use it exclusively for compiling books for my sister."
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