Chapter 846 Jiangzhou Sima's Blue Robe is Wet [Monthly Ticket Lottery - Last Time Left! 6k Words]
As Luo Niang couldn't help but lunge forward, she gripped Ouyang Rong's sleeve tightly.
The plectrum used for playing the pipa fell to the ground and hit the floor with a crisp sound.
The sound of the pipa also came to an abrupt end.
When Ouyang Rong was listening to the pipa, he kept staring at the cuffs of his sleeves, which were stained with wine.
At this moment, hearing the pipa player's lament again, and seeing her clutching his sleeve, he shook his head and sighed:
"So much time has passed... It's been three years since I was exiled to Longcheng, it feels like the blink of an eye."
With tears streaming down her face, staining her delicate features, Luo Niang nodded heavily.
"Yes! I have been searching for you, young master, for three years."
Ouyang Rong raised his head and met the gaze of that lonely, tear-streaked face.
He smiled and said:
“I never expected that you would search for me all this time, from the north to the south, from the bustling capital to the remote countryside… I am honored to have been able to be a source of comfort for you when you were wandering far from home.”
The young man in the scholar's robe maintained his smile and turned to look at the bright moon outside the window:
"What I've done over the past three years has been worthwhile."
He raised his other hand, which wasn't being held, and reached it toward Luo Niang's tear-streaked round face. Halfway there, he stopped and put his hand down again.
Ouyang Rong glanced at Pei Shisan Niang, who lowered her head, took out a handkerchief, and stepped forward in tacit understanding, embracing the pipa player and wiping away her tears.
Ouyang Rong raised his cup and took a sip, his eyes continuing to gaze at the bright moon outside the window, muttering silently to himself.
When Luo Niang saw the young man in the scholar's robe behaving this way, she seemed to recall once again the upright and unyielding gentleman at the banquet in Luoyang.
A gentleman who upholds righteousness as always.
Her red eyes filled with tears, which rolled down her cheeks like beads from a broken string, until her face was covered in tears.
Luo Niang covered her face with her hands, her shoulders trembling, and her cries grew increasingly intense.
Hu Fu, Yuan Huaimin, Yi Qianqiu, and others were also affected, some of them drinking with sorrowful eyes downcast.
Just then, I heard someone's murmur coming from the side.
“From the moment I awoke in the underground palace… three years… I’ve already completed a full round of graduate school… why would I go back?… But it wasn’t a wasted trip… how many three-year periods does one have in their youth… not wasted… not wasted…”
Some words were mumbled and indistinct, and the crowd couldn't hear them clearly. They glanced sideways, thinking they were just literary phrases.
Ye Weilai and Yan Liulang, who were closest to the scene, were also completely baffled.
Ouyang Rong suddenly turned around, pointed to the moon on the river, and called out to Luo Niang in a loud voice:
"We are both wanderers in this world, why should we need to have known each other before? Meeting is fate, Luo Niang. If we are to part and never meet again in this life, there is no need to be sad. When the night is quiet, you can look at the river and the bright moon. We are both on the same river and under the same moon. There is nothing to regret."
Luo Niang slowly raised her head, staring blankly at the gentle smile of the young man in the scholar's robe, and murmured to herself:
"We are both wanderers in this world... Why should we need to have known each other before... We are both... fellow sufferers..."
She took a deep breath and nodded vigorously:
"Yes, we are both wanderers in this world. My lord, like me, is also a wanderer. From Luoyang to Longcheng County, and then from the Prefect of Jiangzhou to a leisurely Sima, my lord's life has never been smooth sailing. But my lord is indomitable, always determined in adversity, rising stronger with each setback, and always rising from the ashes..."
At this point, Luo Niang's voice was filled with excitement as she stared intently at the young man before her:
“My lord, I searched for you in Longcheng to no avail. On my way to Qiantang with my husband’s family, I heard that the Emperor had ordered the Jiangzhou Buddha to be moved into the city. As the chief clerk, you were the only one who stood up and refused to obey the decree. You were demoted to the position of Sima in Jiangzhou and your career in Xunyang plummeted. You were in a very bad situation. At that time, I really wanted to see you and say something to you.”
Ouyang Rong asked, "What did you say?"
“Young master, you are not alone. There are many, many people like me in the world, standing behind you watching you. You are just walking at the forefront, but you are by no means lonely. You are Ouyang Ronglianghan, a gentleman in the hearts of people all over the world. Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid, you are not afraid at all!”
With tears welling in her eyes, Luo Niang looked at Ouyang Rong with sparkling eyes under the orange lamplight.
Upon hearing this, Hu Fu, Yuan Huaimin, Ye Weilai, Yi Qianqiu, and the others all looked at Ouyang Rong, and then they smiled at each other.
Having gone through so much, Luo Niang's words were perhaps their heartfelt sentiment.
Under the spotlight, Ouyang Rong sat by the lamp, silent for a long time, before uttering only one sentence:
Thank you.
Luo Niang wiped away her tears, and said with a smile through her tears:
"Looking back now, it's clear that you can get through this on your own without me or anyone else having to tell you. Those storms and earthquakes seem to be nothing to you. This has been true ever since I met you."
Ouyang Rong shook his head seriously, his voice somewhat loud:
"No, someone has already said those words on behalf of the lady."
Luo Niang pressed, "Who is it?"
"you."
Luo Niang and the others recounted their doubts:
"us?"
Ouyang Rong looked around and said in an extremely soft voice:
Yes, 'you'.
After saying that, the young man picked up his wine glass and began to drink it down in one gulp.
Everyone saw that his movements were somewhat violent, and wine kept dripping from the corners of his mouth, wetting his scholar's robe.
The group was somewhat confused, but they still tacitly kept each other company with drinks.
Pei Shisan Niang and Ye Wei Lai poured him more and more cups.
Luo Niang stared blankly at the dashing young man in the scholar's robe.
Ouyang Rong put down his empty wine glass again and wiped his mouth vigorously.
He smiled warmly:
"May I play the two pipa pieces that Madam wrote for me first?"
"Yes...yes, of course you can. Which song do you want to hear first, little one?"
The young man waved his hand casually, without any particular style:
"First, 'On Teachers,' then 'On Chrysanthemums.'"
"good!"
Luo Niang picked up the pipa, held it in her arms, lowered her head, and seemed to hide her whole body behind the pipa.
She placed the plectrum on the string, tried to steady her breathing, and slowly began to play.
Everyone saw that the woman's fingers were gently gathering, slowly twisting, sometimes wiping, sometimes picking.
I first played "On Teachers", and then I played "On Chrysanthemums".
Yuan Huaimin's face was hazy, and he slowly patted his knees with his palms, following the rhythm, becoming lost in the moment.
Even those who didn't understand the pipa were drawn in by the sound of the pipa.
However, they soon noticed something unusual about Ouyang Rong's side.
He drank one glass of wine after another, tilting his head back to drink.
They seemed slightly intoxicated at this moment. They saw the young man in the scholar's robe smiling, his eyes hazy with drunkenness, looking around and smiling at them, as if he were immersed in the sound of the pipa.
Infected by his enthusiasm, everyone started toasting him, raising their glasses in a toast.
Perhaps sensing the atmosphere around the table, the pipa music became even more powerful and resonant.
"Haha." Ouyang Rong put down his wine glass, lowered his head to wipe his mouth, and seemed to chuckle a few times.
No one knew that as he poured the wine into his mouth, faces flashed before his eyes.
Besides the faces of Luo Niang, Yan Liulang, Ye Weilai, Yuan Huaimin, and others, there were also many familiar yet distant faces.
There were Ah Shan's, Liu Mu's, Ah Qing's, Huang Xuan's, Huang Fei Hong's, and even... Xiu Niang's.
Faces flashed by, one after another, like a fleeting glimpse of flowers.
"you……"
Talking to himself, as if repeating something, Ouyang Rong suddenly remembered something that the old musician and Rong Zhen had casually mentioned.
It's about Emperor Wen.
The "Emperor Wen" was cast by Emperor Wen, the first emperor of the Great Sui Dynasty, with the initial purpose of welcoming the prosperous era after unification.
That year, the Great Sui Dynasty ended the three-hundred-year struggle between the Northern and Southern Dynasties. A rising unified dynasty was unstoppable. Having witnessed countless wars and bloodshed, and with the people yearning for stability, everyone looked forward to the arrival of a new golden age. This was a grand vision and the most basic expectation.
The form of the Emperor Wen is also a musical instrument, tailor-made for a prosperous era.
The first generation of the "Emperor Wen's" sword technique was also a piece of music, a vision of a "prosperous age"!
But in the end, the anticipated golden age never came.
Waiting and waiting... from Da Sui to Da Gan and then to Da Zhou.
[Emperor Wen] passed the document in turn to Emperor Wen of Sui, Emperor Feng of Sui, Emperor Taizong of Gansu, Emperor Gaozong of Gansu, and the current sage.
The prosperous vision that people in the hearts of the people during the early years of the Sui and Qian dynasties seems to be drifting further and further away.
Perhaps because it did not usher in that golden age, or perhaps because its spirituality was too strong, Emperor Wen was more "willful" than the other cauldrons and swords.
Its true meaning will gradually change, and the evidence is the change in its sword techniques!
From the "Sounds of a Prosperous Age" of the early Da Shi era, to the "Qin King's Battle Music" used in the vast army, and then to the seven-character quatrain music composed by the old musician himself...
The true meaning of "Emperor Wen" is not fixed. New sword techniques can be created, but only those swordsmen who have grasped its true meaning at that particular moment can do so...
True meaning is to a cauldron and a sword what emotions are to a person.
Having lost sight of the "golden age," Emperor Wen was able to behave like a human being, with unpredictable and ever-changing emotions!
Amidst the sound of the pipa, Ouyang Rong suddenly understood why he had been unable to grasp the true meaning of "Emperor Wen" for so long, even though he had mastered the complete seven-character quatrain.
It also made me understand why Rong Zhen had also held the sword technique and was "attached" to it for a period of time, but could not comprehend the true meaning of the "Emperor Wen" for a long time. In the end, he comprehended it by chance during the battle at Shuangfeng Peak.
The current Emperor Wen is like a child with a personality; his emotions change in an instant, and his true intentions are different at every moment, making him difficult to grasp.
The seven-character quatrain music created by the old musician was merely a sword technique for a particular moment.
To try to understand the true meaning of a poem by simply playing a seven-character quatrain on the zither is like trying to find a lost sword by marking the boat.
So what is the true meaning, or rather, the emotion, of Emperor Wen, who has yet to find a "golden age"?
Surrounded by swaying boats, Ouyang Rong raised his cup to the moon, listening to the pipa with a drunken stupor, as if waking from a deep dream.
Ye Weilai suddenly turned her head and heard her drunken, swaying lover beside her muttering to himself:
"No, it's not like that. It's not a one-person show. This isn't what a prosperous era is... Just like Luoyang without you, is it still Luoyang? I won't go to Luoyang like that... If we're going, let's go together. Ah Shan, Ah Qing, and... Xiu Niang, I'll take you all with me, okay? Let's go see that prosperous era in the distance... Uh~"
The young man in the scholar's robe mumbled something and then let out a burp.
At this moment, the sound of the pipa inside the painted boat seemed like cold, astringent spring water, beginning to freeze, becoming sluggish, and gradually ceasing, as if a kind of melancholy and resentment were secretly growing; this muffled silence was more moving than any sound.
Suddenly, it sounded as if a silver bottle had shattered, splashing water everywhere; or as if armored cavalry were locked in battle, their swords and spears clashing.
As the music ended, Luo Niang plucked the center of the strings, the sound of which seemed to tear cloth.
Then the sound of the pipa disappeared, and for a moment all was silent.
Inside and outside the pleasure boat, everyone listened quietly.
Outside the window, in the middle of the river, the lonely shadow of the white moon is reflected.
Luo Niang stared at Ouyang Rong for a while, clutching her pipa tightly, looking somewhat lost.
My wish to play two pipa pieces for the little adult seems to have been fulfilled, but I also feel a strange sadness, as if I am reluctant to part with him and am lost about the future.
The young man in the scholar's robe, who claimed to be able to "drink a thousand cups without getting drunk," stood up unsteadily, leaning on the table.
As if thinking he was about to leave, Luo Niang hesitated, looking somewhat reluctant to part.
Ouyang Rong didn't leave, but instead asked her:
What is the name of this pipa piece?
""Gift to Tanlang""
"Is this a gift for me?"
"Um!"
Ouyang Rong asked with a smile:
"Could you tell me the name of the person who gifted the music?"
Luo Niang laughed sadly:
"I have left Luoyang and am now nameless. As the young master once said, there is no need to know each other before we meet. What we are called is not important. What matters is that we meet."
Ouyang Rong nodded and said, word by word:
"All those with a heart in the world are anonymous."
Luo Niang's swaying body steadied itself, a glistening tear welling up in the corner of her eye.
Ouyang Rong, reeking of alcohol, asked:
"Madam says she often dreams of her youth. Would you like to return to Luoyang? I can do my part to help."
Luo Niang's body trembled slightly, as if she was somewhat excited, but she quickly returned to normal.
She said softly:
"I'm not getting any younger, and I'm ready to get married. I just want a peaceful and stable life for the rest of my days."
Ouyang Rong nodded:
"If you ever feel wronged in the future, you can come to me."
Luo Niang nodded, then shook her head:
"Although he is a merchant who values profit over relationships, he is not a bad person. I have seen a lot of people in the world of pleasure and am now just a withered flower. I haven't entrusted myself to the wrong person."
“Alright. Then I will go in your place.” He paused, then repeated, “In your place.”
She wondered:
"you?"
Ouyang Rong calmly said:
“You are who you are. This prosperous era is not the prosperity of one person, and Luoyang is not the Luoyang of one person. Without you, what kind of prosperous era is it, what kind of Luoyang is it?”
Luo Niang seemed to understand but not quite, yet she stared intently at Ouyang Rong, picked up her pipa, stood up, and bowed in greeting.
"Alright, thank you, young master."
For some reason, she laughed and said:
"If I can hear about your deeds in Luoyang and other places in the future, it will be as if I have been there myself, and I will feel the same way. That's wonderful. I have something to look forward to in the future."
Ouyang Rong swayed slightly, still slightly drunk, and laughed as he said:
"Since you presented me with this pipa piece, I must return the favor. At the banquet at Xunyang Tower, could you please play the pipa piece that you learned from that senior musician?"
Luo Niang was stunned for a moment.
Ouyang Rong murmured:
"It is a song of an old friend, so of course it should be played for an old friend. Perhaps it is also the old friend's intention."
Luo Niang nodded obediently, sat down again, and began to play the pipa earnestly.
Soon, a unique pipa melody rang out from inside the painted boat.
At times it sounded like the melodious chirping of birds under flowers, and at other times it sounded like water struggling to flow under ice, a strained, low, and intermittent sob.
The familiar sound of the pipa lingered in my ears.
Ouyang Rong picked up a cup of wine, turned around and walked towards an inconspicuous small tea table in front of him. He drank as he walked, and the wine in the cup swayed and splashed as he walked.
Luo Niang and the others followed the direction he walked and found paper, ink, brush and inkstone used by merchants for accounting on the small tea table.
Ouyang Rong sat cross-legged in front of the tea table, laid out the paper, and drunkenly picked up the brush, dipped it in the inkstone, and then put the brush back on the paper, but paused for a moment.
There were no words on the paper, and no ink on the inkstone; the inkstone was not touched.
Ouyang Rong looked around, then, as if remembering something, reached for his sleeve.
A moment later, he froze for a moment, looked down and looked around, only to find that a certain "long-legged" ink stick had already slipped three feet out.
The young man in the scholar's robe picked up the small inkstick that had sensed the "danger" and actively ran away, threw it into the inkstone, and calmly extracted the ink.
After a short while, the ink and inkstone were ready. He dipped his brush in the ink, picked up his brush, and began to write.
Although the pipa music continued, Hu Fu, Yuan Huaimin, Yi Qianqiu and others gathered around with some confusion, curious about what Ouyang Rong was writing.
"Lianghan, you..."
Yuan Huaimin had a vague premonition. He had only spoken halfway when he came up behind Ouyang Rong and saw the rows of words on the paper. His words stopped abruptly as his gaze was drawn to the paper.
Hu Fu, Yi Qianqiu, and Miao Zhen also came to Ouyang Rong's side out of curiosity, and as they looked over, they gradually stopped in their tracks.
Although Yan Liulang was at the back, he had sharp eyes and, through the crowd, clearly saw the words on the paper.
He was initially a little confused:
"Is this a poem, or a lyric? It sounds like a long song... Pipa Ballad..."
Pei Shisan Niang was responsible for pouring wine for Ouyang Rong and stayed by his side at all times. She could see things more quickly, and as she stared at the paper Ouyang Rong was writing on, she murmured aloud:
"At the head of the Xunyang River, I saw off a guest at night, the maple leaves and reeds rustling in the autumn breeze... The host dismounted, the guest remained on the boat, raising his cup to drink, but there was no music... After much calling, she finally emerged, still holding her pipa, half-concealing her face... In the deep of night, I suddenly dreamt of my youth, and wept in my dream, tears staining my makeup red... dry..."
As she recited, her voice faded, leaving only her unwavering gaze.
The people around him also wore serious expressions, silently looking at the new poem, seemingly immersed in it.
Khufu's mouth became dry as he read, and he couldn't help but pick up the wine glass next to him to moisten his lips, but his eyes remained glued to the paper.
Yuan Huaimin's eyes had gradually widened into copper bells, filled with an incredulous shock as he repeatedly scrutinized the scholar in his scholar's robes who was engrossed in writing, as if trying to confirm something.
Compared to his friend's brilliant and eloquent writing, what surprised Yuan Huaimin even more was that he wrote the article in one go without pausing.
Ye Weilai helped hold the wine glass and stood aside, looking at Luo Niang with a somewhat absent-minded expression. Suddenly, she felt a little envious of Luo Niang.
As this long poem was written, a melancholy and wistful atmosphere gradually permeated the surroundings.
The sound of the pipa, now faint and fading, was also coming to an end.
Seeing that everyone was still gathered around the young man in the scholar's robe and the small tea table, Luo Niang couldn't help but stand up, pick up her zither and walk over. She frowned as she came to the tea table and looked down at it.
A few breaths later, the pipa player was struck dumb, covering her mouth with her hand and sobbing uncontrollably.
"This...this is a gift for me..."
Ouyang Rong finished writing with a flourish of his brush, his face flushed with drunkenness. He seemed oblivious to the crowd gathered around him. He leisurely tossed aside his brush, took the wine cup from Ye Weilai's hand, tilted his head back, and drank heartily before returning to his seat, leaving the small tea table where the poem had been written for the others.
Luo Niang and everyone else's attention was drawn to "The Song of the Pipa," and they stood in front of the table for a long time.
Luo Niang sobbed uncontrollably; Yuan Huaimin, touched by something, burst into tears and embraced Yi Qianqiu, whose eyes were red; the others covered their faces and wept.
Ouyang Rong sat alone to one side, ignoring everyone, seemingly laughing in his drunken state. He grabbed a jar of wine from the ground, tilted his head back, poured it out, and drank it heartily.
The liquor spilled from his chin, soaking a large section of his shirt.
With red eyes and her head down, Ye Weilai immediately returned to Ouyang Rong's side.
She bit her lip, took out a handkerchief, and wiped his chest.
“My love…”
The silver-haired girl's hand sank into the young man's chest.
There were no obstacles along the way, and I even managed to touch the wall behind me.
The little hand pierced through his body.
She stared blankly at the golden halo where her palm touched Tanlang's chest, her pupils widening.
The glorious reign of Emperor Wen was like a dream, a fleeting illusion.
The young man in the scholar's robe was as swift as dew and as fast as lightning.
This is how it should be viewed.
As Ye Weilai, her face flushed with panic, frantically tried to grab her beloved, and the tearful crowd turned to look at her, they heard the sound.
Ouyang Rong appeared drunk, his face like a jade mountain about to collapse. He rested his head on the young girl's jade legs, and the golden sword energy on his body flashed by and disappeared without a trace.
Ouyang Rong seemed amused by the lingering panic on the silver-haired girl's face, and pointed at her, laughing loudly.
"Hahaha……"
As he laughed, he couldn't tell if it was from the wine or his tears, but the Jiangzhou Sima's blue robe was soaked with sweat.
...
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[P.S.: Sorry brothers, I'm late. This chapter is 6,000 words long, which is more than the usual 4,000 words, so I spent the whole day writing it. I'm finally done now. I'll take my medicine and rest. The next chapter will be tomorrow during the day. I'll try my best not to delay it.]
(End of this chapter)
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