Chapter 65. Xing Erqing's parents met through bows and arrows, and he wrote "Ode to the Bow"...
Yang Guang, holding a Penglai cup, slowly walked towards the screen.
The three sacred mountains of Penglai, Fangzhang, and Yingzhou appear and disappear in the cup as the jade-like liquor rises and falls.
"Since the wine hasn't been fully enjoyed, I, Shimin, will punish myself with a cup." Li Shimin jokingly said to Yuwen Shiji and his wife, who were relatively modest and humble.
“It was my fault then,” Princess Hanoi said with a smile. “Young master, you misunderstand. I did not mean to criticize Lady Changsun. I was just expressing my concern that the new wine was still too tender.”
"The new wine is poisoned, young master, you must be careful," Princess Hanoi retorted.
"Next time, Princess, I will host a feast for all of you!" Yuwen Xiao announced loudly. "The wine must be aged, and its flavor must be mellow. Would you and your wife be willing to join us?"
“Of course,” Li Shimin replied without hesitation.
Changsun Qingjing looked at the three young people of similar age in front of him with some curiosity, feeling as if he had been inexplicably thrown into a place of anger.
The verbal sparring between the three made her realize that Princess Hanoi clearly hated and loathed Li Shimin. This hatred even extended to Changsun Qingjing, causing the princess to constantly provoke and nitpick at her.
She couldn't help but wonder what had happened in the Luoyang Palace.
However, Yang Guang only felt that the group of young people were extremely noisy.
He stood before the screen, wine cup in hand, gazing intently at the river, the moon's reflection, the wildflowers like stars in the moonlight, the empty boat adrift on the river, and the solitary water harp rising and falling with the tide…
Changsun Qingjing stepped forward and said, “Your Majesty, this is an old item from my mother ten years ago. I’m afraid it won’t block the wind. It was my oversight. I’m worried that the cold wind might harm Your Highness and the princesses. Please allow me to have someone remove this old screen and replace it with a new, thicker one.”
Yang Guang was lost in his own world, merely waving for Changsun Qingjing to leave. He sighed inwardly, "I never imagined Dou Daosheng would have such a talented cousin, perfectly capturing the essence of my poetry. In my youth, I disliked Dou Daosheng, dismissing his every word as mere rambling. Who would have thought that his boasting to the Imperial Guards about his cousin Dou's beauty and talent wasn't an exaggeration? No wonder Dou Yi, a former imperial son-in-law, dared to put on airs and order the young men of the capital to compete in archery before choosing a husband."
"Shude, don't whisper to Shiji yet. Don't tell him about this painting." Yang Guang turned around, took a sip of the newly brewed wine, and asked Yu Shiji with great interest, "Guess whose poem this painting on the screen is?"
To please Yang Guang, Yu Shiji naturally guessed from Cao Zhi to Xie Tiao, and from Shen Xiuwen to Yu Kaifu.
Yang Guang merely smiled. He was lost in a dream of Huaxu, where he could be compared to Cao Cao, Xie Lingyun, Shen Quanqi, and Yu Zhen, as if he had ascended to a fairyland, admiring the paintings and forgetting his own form.
Changsun Qingjing looked at the obsequious Yu Shiji and thought to himself, "This cunning old fox is deliberately using a group of literary masters to provoke the emperor. He's really using flattery to gain favor for a while!"
The young people finally stopped arguing about the flavors of the new wine, the ghee, and the honey-fried plums, and gathered around the screen, pointing and discussing.
"I only see the zither shimmering with emerald green, but I see neither the Xiang River Fairy nor the maidens. I wonder why?" Empress Xiao pondered the deeper meaning behind the screen.
"I've already guessed it," Yu Shiji said mysteriously, trying to curry favor with Yang Guang. "If I guessed correctly, will Your Majesty reward me?"
"You cunning scoundrel, don't you dare spout nonsense!" Yang Guang laughed heartily. "Speak quickly, or you'll be punished with a drink!"
"The Grand Master of the Golden Purple Light has such keen insight, I, Li, am truly impressed!" Li Yuan filled Yu Shiji's rattan cup with wine.
"Lady Tang is indeed a celestial being," Yang Guang exclaimed.
However, the emperor did not put aside his suspicions at all, and still walked around the room with the Penglai cup in one hand, stroking the chests and looking at the cabinets.
He would occasionally lift the toothpick hanging from the end of each scroll to examine the title and volume. If he encountered a rare book that he had never seen before, he would pretend to ask Li Yuan if he could unroll the scroll and take a look.
The bookshelf was filled with nothing but historical records, the Five Classics, collections of Six Dynasties literature, Buddhist scriptures, and rubbings of Zhong Yao and Wang Xizhi's works. Yang Guang suddenly came across a stack of rattan paper, which appeared to be texts written by students in class.
Li Shimin and Changsun Qingjing were both relieved to have stored all the modern literary collections in a hidden place.
Yang Guang beckoned Yu Shiji and Li Yuan forward, unfolded several sheets of transcribed poems and essays for Yu Shiji, and said, "Take a look, are these the poems and essays that you and Shinan admired together?"
He then kindly showed Li Yuan his poem "Ode to the Eagle," which he had written in his youth and which was now being written in the character "王" (Wang) on rattan paper: "I suppose this is the calligraphy that Shimin practiced. Very good, very good. Indeed, the calligraphy is elegant and spirited, with a clear and graceful style."
“They complement each other perfectly, they complement each other perfectly.” Yuwen Shiji said, holding the scales from the side.
If you shape it, the enemy will surely follow.
Li Shimin never expected that his first battle in applying Sun Tzu's Art of War would not be in the northern deserts, Liaodong, or even on the front lines of bandit suppression, but rather on this turbulent Lantern Festival night, in the small world where he was observing mourning for his mother.
The best hunters often use their appearance as bait.
The arrogant emperor thus stepped into the trap meticulously set by the two young men to protect their families.
Li Yuan apologized, saying, "I have failed in my duty to discipline this child. I did not know that he would scribble Your Majesty's poems so casually. He will be severely punished."
“You are too strict with the child. Using harsh rules only stifles his natural instincts,” Yang Guang said, then beckoned Li Shimin forward. “You have read so many of my poems; you should know I admire the literary style of the Six Dynasties. Have you studied the poetry of the Yongming era?”
Li Shimin nodded: "Master Zhang taught me some things, but I didn't learn them very well."
Yang Guang asked, "If I point to something, can you recite a poem?"
"It's worth a try, but I'm afraid my words will be clumsy and my writing will be illegible."
"I am not afraid."
"Please point to the object, Your Majesty."
Princess Hanoi nudged Yuwen Xiao with her elbow, hoping her husband would challenge the arrogant young man she despised.
Yuwen Xiao jokingly bowed and thanked him, saying softly, "I humbly decline such an important task! Why doesn't the princess challenge him to a duel herself..."
"I've heard rumors in the palace that your parents met through archery, so write a poem entitled 'Ode to the Bow.' You have three quarters of an hour to write it." Yang Guang wanted to see whether the Li family had concealed their ulterior motives too well, or whether he himself was just too suspicious.
Li Shimin readily agreed to the poem topic, and then he and Changsun Qingjing temporarily avoided the crowd. Changsun Qingjing laid out the paper and inkstone, not daring to disturb him, leaving everything to Li Shimin's discretion.
"Cheer up," Li Shimin said softly, sitting up straight. "Don't worry, His Majesty will definitely like my poem..."
“You old peasant from Beiman, don’t make grand pronouncements first.” Princess Hanoi was like a fly clinging to a bone, impossible to shake off.
Li Shimin said with displeasure, "I don't remember when the Yang family of Hongnong changed their ancestral home to Luoyang. Does changing their ancestral home to Luoyang give them the right to mock everyone in the world as country bumpkins?"
"Hmph. Clever words, shameless indeed." Princess Hanoi casually brushed aside the rattan paper on the table. "My father is skilled in all kinds of poetry, including court poetry, metaphysical poetry, and folk songs. If you're just making things up, you won't escape His Majesty's discerning eye..."
Changsun Qingjing was truly disgusted by the emperor's beloved daughter, who was always stirring up trouble, so he replied without any politeness: "Although you are not very talented, you know the principle that deep thought is the foundation and literary talent is the embellishment. There is no need for the princess to worry."
"Then I'll wait to admire your masterpiece, young master." Princess Hanoi dusted off her purple brocade robe with its interlocking pearl and lion patterns, as if the words of the "country bumpkin" and "country woman" before her carried the dust and grime of a rural village, making the princess, who was being lowered to a lowly position, feel extremely uncomfortable. Having failed to persuade her, she turned away arrogantly, as if no one else was there.
Ignoring the sarcasm and ridicule of the Hanoi princess, Li Shimin almost immediately picked up his pen and wrote the poem.
Yang Guang ordered Yu Shiji to unroll the scroll and read aloud: "The crescent moon is half full, shooting stars fly far away. Wild geese startle with letters, and gibbons cry as they turn on branches."
Upon hearing this, Li Yuan said, "My son has been presumptuous and disrespectful to Your Majesty. His attempt to imitate a swan is futile and only invites ridicule. I beg Your Majesty's forgiveness."
“Lord Tang is being far too harsh.” Yang Guang looked like he had found a kindred spirit and summoned Yu Shiji, saying, “Bo Lang, you give your opinion.”
Yu Shiji, with the discerning eye of a pure scholar, unexpectedly discovered that apart from one or two minor details, the prosody of "Ode to the Bow" was actually quite sound.
Although this learned and skilled writer, the Grand Master of the Palace, was unsure how to evaluate the poem's use of the palace style to depict a military theme, he did indeed perceive its genuine sentiment and fresh, bold spirit.
Even Yang Guang thought "Ode to the Bow" was refreshing and, at least for Li Shimin at that age when he was indulging in pointless lamentations, it was a fine piece of work.
Observing the way Yang Guang and Li Yuan interacted today, Yu Shiji felt that Yang Guang's praise for his cousin's family was much greater than his wariness. So he simply played both sides and said, "As for their merits and demerits, I don't really know. It's a pity that Shi Nan didn't accompany His Majesty, otherwise he would definitely have been able to give a fair assessment. If I were to speak frankly, then with the poetic style of the Li family's son, he could be considered His Majesty's private disciple."
This statement not only elevates Yang Guang to the status of a literary master, but also affirms the lofty ideals and exemplary conduct of the Li family's descendants. Even Changsun Qingjing had to admire Yu Shiji's ability to navigate both sides with ease and skill.
Li Yuan readily accepted Yu Shiji's goodwill: "You flatter me, you flatter me. I am already content that Your Majesty does not blame your unworthy son. How dare I speak of private admiration?"
Yang Guang held the manuscript and glanced again at the young man kneeling before the table. Only then did he realize that Li Shimin was wearing a long-sleeved robe under his mourning clothes, which seemed to be an old style from the Qi and Liang dynasties, but slightly reduced in length to meet the needs of the pretentious literati of today, in line with the minimalist style of northerners.
Yang Guang didn't particularly appreciate Li Yuan's son. Firstly, the boy's appearance was only above average, at least in Yang Guang's eyes, he was not as good as Yuwen Xiao; secondly, when he accompanied the emperor last time, the boy was not very good at comforting others; thirdly, due to personnel changes, Yang Guang and Li Yuan had become estranged, so he naturally couldn't be close to Li Yuan's son.
After only a few months apart, Li Shimin appeared much thinner and more refined than when they last met. Furthermore, he was no longer forced to wear the elaborate costumes and makeup tailored by Yun Dingxing, but instead donned a simple, plain outfit. He also used the shade of the poplar trees to express his feelings, and reluctantly exchanged poems with Yang Guang. His cheerful and refined demeanor, reminiscent of pine and cypress, impressed Yang Guang.
Under these circumstances, Yang Guang even developed a sense of closeness to Li and his son.
"This child is really interesting; he always brings back memories of my past," Yang Guang said with emotion. "Shude, do you remember when we were their age, we often sneaked into the South Mountain to hunt and didn't return all night?"
"Of course I remember."
To be able to reminisce about one's childhood with an emperor must be an immense privilege!
Author's Note: The arrogant Yang Guang, the annoying princess, the cowardly Yuwen Xiao, the sycophantic Yu Shiji, the resourceful Old Li, Empress Xiao (+1), Princess Nanyang (+2), Yuwen Shiji (+3), Little Li diligently eating dead flies, and Qing Jing somewhat regretting his rooster husband [doge emoji]
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