When Dong Shulan's carriage arrived at Lantingji, the poetry gathering was already halfway through.
Of course, she was not staying at home to put on makeup, but was thinking about Fu Xiaoguan, the Linjiangxian song he wrote when he left Linjiang, the telepathic connection he wrote in Shanglin, and the Water Melody song in her hand.
Scenes from the past emerged in her mind, and she realized that she had not spent much time with Fu Xiaoguan, but her heart was firmly tied to him.
Poetry gatherings like Lantingji were no longer meaningful to her. She used to look forward to hearing those so-called talented scholars reciting poems and composing couplets, but now, they were just a show of elegance.
Who else can write better lyrics than this "Shui Tiao Ge Tou"?
Who else can understand that people have joys and sorrows, separations and reunions, and that the moon waxes and wanes, and that it is impossible to have everything in life?
Who else can understand the expectation and longing of wishing for a long life and sharing the beauty of the moon together even though we are thousands of miles apart?
No one will understand. Although they are talented, they have never had this kind of experience, so it is impossible for them to write such touching words.
He... is the real talent!
No one else can compare to him, not even Yan Xiwen!
Dong Shulan was of course very happy and felt that the moon was rounder and brighter tonight.
…
Lantingji is certainly not a market. It is located on Weiyang Lake to the west of the Jixia Academy.
It is not a ship, but a huge building complex on Weiyang Lake.
There are pavilions, terraces, rocks, flowing water, and small bridges connecting the pavilions.
It is a shining pearl on the magnificent Weiyang Lake, it is a beautiful scenery in Shangjing Jinling, and it is also a gathering place for literati.
The three-story Lanting Pavilion in the center houses countless books, and the thousands of stone tablets outside the Lanting Pavilion are engraved with the most magnificent poems by literati and poets of all ages.
To be able to leave one's name on thousands of stone tablets is the meaning of immortalizing one's reputation, and it is also one of the ideals pursued by scholars all over the world.
Tonight is Mid-Autumn Festival, and Lantingji is even more lively.
Zhang Wenhan was also here at the moment, but he did not go to Lanting Pavilion to write poetry. Instead, he stood at the outermost pier, looking out at the lake, waiting for the arrival of the small covered boat.
He was waiting for Dong Shulan.
It wasn't for himself, but for Yan Xiwen.
When he knew that Yan Xiwen favored Dong Shulan, he consciously dismissed the idea in his mind - why should he compete with Yan Xiwen?
Only after arriving in Shangjing did he realize how small Linjiang was, and realized that his reputation as the foremost of the four great talents of Linjiang was actually nothing. He got to know Yan Xiwen, because the Yan family was the most well-established family in Shangjing, and especially because of the legendary story of the three prime ministers in the Yan family.
The Autumn Examination will be held at the end of September. Zhang Wenhan is convinced that he will be able to pass the exam. Yan Xiwen also believes this because Zhang Wenhan is indeed talented. However, whether he can fill the vacancy after the Autumn Examination depends on someone's support. If the Yan family has a word, his official career will surely be bright.
Therefore, in Zhang Wenhan's opinion, serving Yan Xiwen was a worthwhile investment.
Dong Shulan and Xiaoqi arrived at Lanting Pavilion on a black-sailed boat. Zhang Wenhan greeted them with a smile and said, "I am here to wait for you, young lady, at the request of Master Yan. The poetry gathering is in full swing right now, and many students are at Lanting Pavilion. Please come in, young lady."
"Thank you, Master Zhang. Please come in."
When she was in Linjiang, she was often accompanied by Zhang Wenhan. She also went with Zhang Wenhan on her way back to Jinling from Linjiang. After arriving in Jinling, Zhang Wenhan also came to visit her at home. Although Dong Shulan disliked Zhang Wenhan in her heart, she could not show it anyway, so she was very polite and chatted with Zhang Wenhan about interesting things in Linjiang or Jinling along the way.
Before I knew it, I arrived at Lanting Pavilion. There were many desks here, and next to each desk there was a young woman serving with pen and ink.
Many talented men wrote at the desk, while many stood outside and looked up at the moon, hoping that the moonlight could bring some inspiration into their brains, so that they could write an exquisite poem and become famous all over the world. If their names could be left on thousands of tombstones, that would be like smoke rising from their ancestral graves.
The Mid-Autumn Festival Lanting gatherings in previous years have always been themed around the moon. Over the years, the moon has been written about so many times that it has become difficult for these students.
Zhang Wenhan brought Dong Shulan to a wooden pavilion outside the academy, where Yan Xiwen and several famous students from the academy were.
Yan Xiwen and others stood up and greeted Dong Shulan, who returned the greeting with a smile.
After everyone sat down, Dong Shulan said, "I came a little late because of something. I wonder if any of you talented people have any good works to submit?"
The so-called "submitting it" means writing one's own poems on the desk outside the Lanting Pavilion and handing them to the academy teachers on the first floor of the pavilion. After preliminary selection, they will hand them over to the directors of the Imperial College on the second floor. Only poems that the directors of the Imperial College think are good will be handed over to the third floor - the third floor is where there are five great scholars of the current dynasty headed by the chief academic of the Imperial College. Qin Bingzhong is also here at the moment.
The poems that can be delivered to the third floor are all excellent, and the poems that can be recommended by five great scholars at the same time can be recorded on thousands of stone tablets.
Every year, one or two poems are written on the thousand stone tablets, but poems about Mid-Autumn Festival have not appeared for several years.
Yan Xiwen sat upright and said to Dong Shulan, "The six of us have submitted our poems, and five have already been sent up to the second floor."
Zhang Wenhan seemed to be inspired and sighed, "It's a pity that Brother Fu Xiaoguan didn't come to the capital. If he were here, his poems would probably be on the third floor."
"But is it Fu Xiaoguan, the author of the Dream of the Red Chamber?"
"That's right. You don't know. Master Fu was already famous in Linjiang. He once wrote two poems that are now being sung in Jinling. You all know about them. Master Fu's name is now a household name in Jinling. I heard that many women in the boudoir praised him as the world's most talented man!"
Yan Xiwen frowned slightly. "How can you trust a woman's words? I've read that book, but I don't think it's a masterpiece. The sexual relationships between men and women are so filthy, it's almost unbearable to read. While it's popular among the common people, it's hardly considered worthy of highbrow status."
"Master Yan is absolutely right. We who follow the teachings of Confucius and Mencius should respect propriety and uphold the great principles. However, this book by Fu Xiaoguan falls into the realm of trivial matters, using the dirty deeds of the Jia family to attract attention. This is immoral."
This was said by the talented scholar Zhou Tianyou. The other talented scholars looked thoughtful, then nodded, agreeing with him deeply.
Dong Shulan also frowned but said nothing.
Zhou Tianyou, brimming with acclamation, folded his folding fan and continued, "Young Master Zhang, you should know. I've heard from my second uncle's son that Fu Xiaoguan used to have a very bad reputation in Linjiang. It was only after Miss Dong went to Linjiang that his reputation changed. However, his knowledge is questionable. He was only a scholar, and not a single poem or essay had been published before. How come he's suddenly writing poetry and books? There must be something fishy going on. What do you all think?"
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