Chapter 523 Lianghan also did not sleep.
"Ouyang Lianghan, haven't I heard that you're not good at poetry?"
"That's right. I'm bad with words."
What does being bad at speaking have to do with this?
"It's alright, I was just saying... Lady Rong, they're playing a game of 'Flying Flowers' (a type of poetry game), why don't you go and join them?"
"A bunch of drunkards, not going."
"Perhaps the owner of the Butterfly Love Flower is inside."
"Let's go take a look. If all else fails, you can help me receive it."
"I've already told you I'm bad with words..."
In Xingzifang, Xunyang City, there is a sizable mansion courtyard.
A poetry gathering is underway, attended by all sorts of literary figures and wealthy merchants who also want to appear cultured.
On a platform in the center of the courtyard, amidst a landscape of small bridges, flowing water, and artificial hills, a group of graceful dancers are performing a delicate dance.
In a corner of the audience, Ouyang Rong and Rong Zhen were dressed as ordinary guests, keeping a low profile and observing the attendees, including the literary figures and scholars among them, with a detached eye.
Rongzhen wore a black robe and a turban, dressed in plain men's clothing.
Ouyang Rong was also dressed in a low-key manner, wearing a black robe and a turban.
The two stood on the edge of the group of literati playing the "Flying Flowers" game, observing them with cold eyes.
Perhaps because Rongzhen, even when dressed as a man, had a cold and aloof expression, no one cheered or interacted with the two of them from beginning to end.
Rongzhen turned her head and glanced at Ouyang Rong, who was watching the commotion and drinking with a straight face.
In the evening, she found Ouyang Rong and told him about Lin Cheng. She also revealed that she had been frequently visiting such extravagant and boring poetry gatherings recently, looking for the owner of the Butterfly Love Flower.
Unexpectedly, Ouyang Rong, who had never been interested in this matter, also came over and confidently patted his chest, saying that this was exactly what the Jiangzhou Sima should do.
I reluctantly brought him along.
However, the condition was that it wouldn't interfere with her work, and Ouyang Rong readily agreed.
At this moment, Rong Zhen was already somewhat regretting bringing him along.
"Have you seen enough?"
Rong Zhen asked expressionlessly.
Ouyang Rong watched with great interest the several eloquent scholars who were playing the "Flying Flowers" game, his eyes lingering on them. He said:
"Shh, be quiet... Okay, that's right!"
He suddenly joined the crowd in applauding, cheering for the talented men.
Rongzhen turned and left.
Ouyang Rong, who was clapping enthusiastically, seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. The next second, he immediately turned around and chased after Rong Zhen, switching back to the "Lady Historian's Little Follower" mode.
"Why is Lady Rong walking so fast? They haven't finished their discussion yet..."
"Can you perceive the literary aura?"
Rongzhen turned around and asked in an annoyed tone.
"Uh, no."
"What are you looking at?"
Rong Zhen frowned and said in an icy tone:
"I'm here to find the thief's trail. What's with this 'Flying Flower Game'? It's boring. I glanced at it and there's no corresponding literary flair. What's the point of staying? To have it for dinner?"
Ouyang Rong chuckled.
He said it out loud.
Rongzhen looked Ouyang Rong up and down, noting his casual and low-key attire for tonight's outing.
“You’ve changed,” she suddenly said.
"What has changed?"
"Why are you interested in these pretentious poetry gatherings?"
"What do you mean by being pretentious? Can't I be naturally refined?"
Rong Zhen's face hardened, and she stretched out her merciless little hand:
"Then write a poem for me to see. It doesn't have to be a doggerel or pretentious. It has to be better than mine, right?"
Ouyang Rong glanced at her squinting expression and her delicate white hands, and said in a serious tone:
"I cannot do it. I am afraid that if I do, Lady Rong will find out that I am the master of Butterfly Loves Flowers, and I will be tormented by it."
Rong Zhen snorted coldly:
"What's with all the inner turmoil? Go ahead and act tough, it's fine. You're the Butterfly Love Flower Master, I'll just chop you to death with one blow. I'll even burn your poems for you, that'll be more than enough."
Ouyang Rong smiled.
Rongzhen shook her head and stopped joking.
Ouyang Rong, who was looking around at the poetry gathering, observed for a while, then asked coldly:
"Didn't you used to be uninterested in these things? Why are you suddenly so enthusiastic today? You're just like Yuan Huaimin when he was the Sima of Jiangzhou?"
Ouyang Rong first ran to snatch a fruit plate from a maid, and while eating the fruit, handed it to Rongzhen, saying indistinctly:
"To mock Brother Huaimin, to understand Brother Huaimin, to become Brother Huaimin, to surpass Brother Huaimin."
Rongzhen didn't laugh, but stared at him and said:
"It seems that this incident of refusing the imperial decree to be demoted and the statue-making in Xingzifang has indeed had a great impact on you."
"In the past... I always felt that you were like an incomparably sharp sword, unyielding and unbreakable. You would face whatever you encountered head-on and forge ahead without hesitation... You were indeed dashing, but you gave people the feeling of being quite calm and boring."
"Now that I see it... Ouyang Lianghan, it turns out you're also a human being. You also have times when you feel down, try to cheer up, and seek solace. You're actually quite flesh and blood. Hmm, that's rather interesting."
The cold voice seemed to have a slight fluctuation, but it was hidden.
Upon hearing this, Ouyang Rong immediately patted his chest, swallowed the fruit, waved his hand, and said with a wry smile:
"Don't pity me. Why is Lady Rong so full of maternal sympathy? I'm not as miserable as you say. I'm just really bored right now. Besides, Lin Cheng has already approached you, wanting you to test me, and at the same time, he wants you to keep an eye on me. Lady Rong, what else can I do? Continue to interfere in the affairs of the Jiangzhou Hall and overstep my authority?"
"Then in less than half a month, His Majesty in Luoyang will be able to see my name on his desk again."
Ouyang Rong shook his head.
"Motherhood? Overflowing compassion? What does that mean? Are you saying I'm your mother?" Rongzhen asked, puzzled.
Ouyang Rong did not answer.
Rong Zhen immediately put her face serious and corrected him:
"I did not help Lin Cheng, and he has no right to order me around. I also have no intention of supervising you."
"Okay, okay."
Ouyang Rong chuckled and nodded.
Rong Zhen was silent for a while, "But I understand his little scheme."
She reached out, took the fruit plate, took a small bite, and only said after chewing:
"However, you were very cooperative with me and did not make things difficult for me."
Ouyang Rong wanted to say a few polite words.
Rongzhen immediately changed the subject:
There's something I need to tell you.
"speak."
"I have learned that Yuan Huaimin was once famous in the literary world of the Great Zhou Dynasty for his poetry and prose in Chang'an and Luoyang. Later, after experiencing a certain incident, he was demoted to Xunyang City, but his poems have not been seen since. Why is that?"
"He just doesn't want to cause trouble. And you still doubt him? Didn't Lin Cheng ask Brother Huaimin for a piece of calligraphy last time?"
"There is indeed calligraphy, but with just a painting and some inscriptions, it's hard to discern the literary talent. If it were a master, it would be easy to fake it... Now that we haven't been able to find the owner of the Butterfly Loves Flower, we can't rule out the possibility that they've been fooled. I suspect that this thief may also have some means of concealment; literary talent isn't so easily revealed..."
"So, what does Your Excellency mean?"
"Liu Zilin is currently the prime suspect, but we must also be careful not to overlook him. After much thought, I've decided that we need to investigate Yuan Huaimin again. We must find a way to obtain a poem or article written by Yuan Huaimin himself..."
Rong Zhen narrowed her eyes slightly and asked, "By the way, Ouyang Lianghan, do you have the poems and manuscripts he gave you?"
"No. There used to be a painting of a lady that he carried on the umbrella, but the umbrella was lost later," he said truthfully.
"Alright, then it's my turn..." the cold, palace-dressed girl murmured to herself.
Ouyang Rong tilted his head back and drank his wine, listening to the game of "Flying Flowers" not far away, without commenting.
...
As night deepened, the poetry gathering came to an end.
Ouyang Rong and Rong Zhen parted ways.
Because of the curfew, I am unable to return to Xunyangfang.
Ouyang Rong, who was planning to stay at an inn, suddenly turned and headed towards Chengtian Temple.
Upon arriving at Chengtian Temple, outside Yuan Huaimin's study, Ouyang Rong knocked loudly on the door without saying a word.
"Who is it? Why aren't you asleep so late at night?"
With disheveled hair resembling that of a female ghost and sleepy eyes with deep bags, Yuan Huaimin opened the courtyard gate in a daze and with dissatisfaction.
"Brother Lianghan? What time is it? Why aren't you asleep yet?"
He looked up at the sky and began to complain.
Ouyang Rong nodded with satisfaction: "Huaimin is still awake too."
After saying that, he walked confidently past Yuan Huaimin and into the courtyard.
"...??"
Yuan Huaimin looked at him with a resentful expression: "Lianghan, doesn't your conscience hurt even a little bit after saying those words?"
Ouyang Rong showed no remorse. He first strolled around the courtyard, then, carrying two jugs of wine, he dragged his friend to the nearby Xingzi Lake to enjoy the night view.
Yuan Huaimin had a good temper; after all, there was alcohol to drink, and his anger was quickly dispelled by the distraction. Ouyang Rong, on the other hand, acted like a scumbag.
The two of them had a few drinks together.
After a while, seemingly tired, Ouyang Rong put his hands in his sleeves, went straight into the master bedroom, took over the bed, and fell asleep.
The drunken Yuan Huaimin stared blankly at the back of Ouyang Rong, who had dragged him out for most of the day and then turned the tables on him. He turned around cursing and went to the study to spend the night.
He had just passed the desk when he suddenly stopped and circled around it.
Yuan Huaimin, looking dazed, patted his forehead, pulled out a small booklet, and began writing while muttering to himself.
"My bad friend, my bad friend, you've got to say I'm not asleep either..."
I finished it in one go, then drowsiness washed over me. I threw away my pen and paper and fell into a deep sleep.
Early the next morning.
Yuan Huaimin hurriedly got up and rushed to the main hall of Jiangzhou to take his shift.
Ouyang Rong, on the other hand, was more relaxed and slept until late morning before slowly leaving Chengtian Temple, where he had spent the previous night in a drunken stupor.
Upon arriving at the main hall of Jiangzhou, everyone was astonished to see Ouyang Rong, who was unusually late and had left early. Many people rubbed their eyes in disbelief.
Yuan Huaimin arrived on time, but Ouyang Lianghan was late? Are you sure there's no mix-up?
What do you mean by "reversing the Heavenly Gang"?
Seeing Ouyang Rong leisurely sit down in the opposite seat, Yuan Huaimin, who was busy handling official business and taking a short break to wipe his sweat, suddenly felt inexplicably sad, and his eyes immediately reddened.
It felt like something dearest and most beloved had been taken away from me.
But what's most infuriating is that he was supposed to oversleep today too, but Ouyang Rong woke up reflexively when it was time to go, first shaking Yuan Huaimin awake, and then, after he rushed out the door to rush to the last minute, Ouyang Rong turned over and went back to sleep...
Before Yuan Huaimin could wallow in melancholy for long, a cold-looking young woman dressed in palace attire suddenly came to his door.
She was followed by a large group of female officials, who seemed to have ill intentions.
The officials all turned their heads in surprise.
"Master Female History?" Yuan Huaimin was confused.
"Yuan Huaimin, come with me, let's go to the side hall next door."
"Ah. Oh, oh, oh."
Yuan Huaimin was very honest and quickly followed.
Inside the main hall behind him, Ouyang Rong, who was secretly eating a sesame seed cake with his head down, didn't even lift his eyelids. But at a certain moment, after finishing the sesame seed cake, he reached into his sleeve and touched a small, honest-looking inkstone inside...
Half an hour later, at a table in the side hall, Rong Zhen, who had arrived in a fierce manner earlier, had a strange expression.
She was holding a small booklet in her hands, while Yuan Huaimin sat across the table, scratching his head and waiting.
The female officials and bureaucrats around them were watching them with curiosity.
On the table between the two men was a newly written short essay.
Yuan Huaimin vaguely remembered that it seemed to be something he had casually written last night. When Rong Zhen asked for it back in a businesslike manner, he was forced to dig it out and rewrite it in front of the Lady Historian.
The surrounding onlookers gathered around, marveling at the spectacle.
"A Night Visit to Chengtian Temple?"
A middle-aged official, filled with curiosity, murmured on behalf of the crowd engrossed in reading:
"...I was about to undress and go to sleep when the moonlight streamed into the room, and I happily got up to go for a walk. I thought there was no one to share this pleasure with...Lianghan was also not asleep, so we strolled together in the courtyard...The courtyard was like a clear, still pool, with algae and duckweed crisscrossing in the water, which were actually the shadows of bamboo and cypress trees...What night is without a moon?What place is without bamboo and cypress trees? It's just that there are few idle people like the two of us..."
Rongzhen pursed her lips; what she was more concerned about was that the writing style of the author of Butterfly Love Flower was not that of the author.
What caught the attention of the surrounding officials was the skill of the article; the more they pondered and digested it, the more interesting it became.
"Hmm, what a fine line, 'But few are as idle as the two of us'..."
"I actually think the line 'Liang Han was also awake, and we met in the courtyard' is more interesting. Haha, now I know that Chief Secretary Yuan and Sima Ouyang had a very close personal relationship. They could come over in the middle of the night to chat without getting shoes thrown at them..."
"Indeed, this piece by Prefect Yuan is truly a masterpiece of poetry, a stroke of genius..."
Rong Zhen returned the booklet without expression, thus clearing Yuan Huaimin of considerable suspicion.
However, upon hearing someone's name appear in the article, she frowned slightly and looked at Ouyang Rong, who was watching the drama unfold not far away.
The latter looked at her innocently, shrugged, and seemed not to have expected that she would be a minor character in Yuan Huaimin's article.
Before long, as Rongzhen's suspicions about Yuan Huaimin dissipated, the news of the rather significant incident that morning quickly spread.
Yuan Huaimin's poem "Night Visit to Chengtian Temple" quietly spread throughout the romantic and sensual places of Xunyang City.
In the following days, the manuscript became popular not only in romantic settings, but also among scholars and literati in Xunyang City. The handwritten manuscript spread rapidly throughout the streets, alleys, teahouses, and bookstores.
The momentum of this outbreak is clearly not limited to Xunyang City in Jiangzhou; it is rapidly spreading to the entire Jiangnan region.
A renowned literary figure, now living in seclusion in Lushan, commented:
This short essay, though only eighty-four characters long, may seem at first glance plain and unremarkable, more like a diary entry. But it is precisely this simplicity that allows the author to tell the story so skillfully, like flowing water, revealing profound meaning within its ordinariness. The more you read, the more captivating it becomes… The review received widespread praise and approval.
In addition, a certain sentence in this essay has also generated considerable discussion.
It involves a prominent figure in the current officialdom of the Great Zhou Dynasty.
It was a joking remark that "Liang Han was also not asleep."
Furthermore, the fact that Ouyang Lianghan, the Sima of Jiangzhou, was now unusually late and leaving early had become widely known.
Meanwhile, some people also saw him appearing at several poetry gatherings...
For a time, people talked about Ouyang Lianghan's attitude of gradually becoming indifferent after being demoted for disobeying the imperial decree, which became a hot topic with the same popularity as, or even surpassed, that of "Night Visit to Chengtian Temple".
Is Yang Lianghan, who refused to obey the imperial edict, about to start traveling, indulging in nature, and just giving up?
However, there were not many voices of contempt in the public opinion in Jiangzhou. On the contrary, many of their colleagues who had also been demoted to Xunyang City felt a sense of sympathy for each other.
This move garnered sympathy from most people.
Look, a once outspoken and honest official has been forced into this state.
However, this can be considered a Confucian tradition: when one is successful, one should actively engage in worldly affairs; when one is unsuccessful, one should learn from the Daoist principle of non-action and withdrawal from the world.
There's nothing to blame them for; many frustrated scholars felt indignant on their behalf, feeling resentful that treacherous officials were in power and the government was in disarray.
At the same time, most of the doubts surrounding Ouyang Lianghan's previous unusual refusal of the position of Chief Secretary of the Central Army Camp were dispelled.
What other impacts might there be besides these?
From this moment forward, the people of the Great Zhou, and many others long into the future, will know that on a certain day, month, and year, a certain person was also awake.
Is this a different kind of way of leaving a name?
(End of this chapter)
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