To be remembered in history
The years in Lingnan flow silently, amidst the babbling brooks and the fragrance of ink in the study. In the blink of an eye, it's kapok blossom season again.
One day, Wen Tingyun returned from the market, holding a newly acquired piece of Qingtian stone in his hand. The stone was warm and smooth, with an elegant and light color. "Youwei," he said, walking into the courtyard and showing her the stone, "I've searched for a long time and finally found this stone. It's perfect for carving a seal for you."
Xuanji took the stone; it was already warm from his body in his palm. "What do you want to carve?" she asked.
He smiled mysteriously: "Let me keep you in suspense for now; you'll find out in five days."
For the next five days, Wen Tingyun would sit alone by the window every afternoon, intently carving the Qingtian stone. The sound of the carving knife moving across the stone was intermittent, accompanied by his figure as he sometimes stared intently at the stone and sometimes gently blew away the stone dust.
Xuanji didn't ask any questions, but couldn't help secretly watching his figure.
On the fifth day, it was a sunny afternoon. Wen Tingyun finally put down his carving knife, gently blew away the last bit of stone dust from the stone, and rubbed it repeatedly in his hands for a long time before walking up to Xuanji.
"Close your eyes." His voice carried the joy of completing the work.
Xuanji closed her eyes as instructed, feeling him place a slightly cool object into her palm. When she opened her eyes, she discovered that he had carved a small fish, swimming freely with its tail swaying. The fish's body lines were smooth and graceful, the curve of its tail was just right, and the few strokes of water ripples around it seemed to convey the vastness of the rivers and lakes. At the end of the water ripples, two characters were carved in his unique cursive script: "Forget Schemes."
"This fish..." Xuanji's fingertips traced the delicate engravings, his heart deeply touched. This little fish—was a mischievous mark she had secretly left on his discarded poems when she was young. Now, he had spent five days painstakingly carving this secret pact and destiny between the two of them. It represented her swimming out of all the shackles and struggles of the past, swimming into the mountains and rivers of Lingnan, swimming into the free and peaceful world he had personally drawn for her.
"Do you like it?" he asked, his gaze gently falling on her eyes, which were slightly red with emotion.
She nodded vigorously, took the vermilion inkpad, and solemnly stamped it onto the end of her old poem manuscript. The vermilion fish leaped onto the paper, echoing the vermilion handwriting that he had left when he corrected the poem manuscript in his early years, "This sentence can be kept," as if completing a dialogue and confirmation that spanned a long period of time.
Wen Tingyun gazed at the vermilion seal, a smile of satisfaction playing on his lips. "Youwei," he said softly, "your poems deserve this mark."
From then on, a small vermilion fish always appeared on Xuanji's new poems. Her poetic style, nurtured in Lingnan, became increasingly serene and insightful. Her works ranged from the timeless lines, such as "Priceless treasures are easy to find, but a true lover is hard to come by," which insightfully capture the desolation of a woman's heart; to the lingering longing in "My heart for you is like the waters of the West River, flowing eastward day and night without ceasing"; and even more powerful works, written after settling in Lingnan, such as "The Wu and Yue states plotted many schemes, but the goddess of the washerwoman has already reconciled. A pair of smiling faces turned back, and ten thousand elite soldiers all defected," which used the past to satirize the present, displaying a vigorous and powerful style.
These poems, bearing the small seal of "Forgetful of Worldly Affairs," gradually spread through the letters of scholars and the boats and carriages of merchants.
At this time, Wen Tingyun's poetry and lyrics also reached a state of consummate skill. He no longer dwelled on his disappointment in the imperial examinations and official career, and he also faded some of the flamboyance of his early years, pouring all his talent and life experiences into the description of the scenery of Lingnan and the expression of his inner feelings.
The poem "Bodhisattva's Charm - Small Hills Overlapping, Gold Gleaming and Fading" composed by Xuanji—"Reflecting flowers before and after, their faces mirrored one another. Newly embroidered silk robe, adorned with pairs of golden partridges"—is ornate and meticulously crafted, perfectly capturing the sentiments of a woman confined to her boudoir, becoming a model of the Huajian school of poetry. His "More Leaks - Jade Incense Burner"—"The paulownia tree, the midnight rain, unaware of the bitterness of parting. Leaf by leaf, sound by sound, dripping on the empty steps until dawn"—further vividly portrays the sorrow of parting in the night rain.
After spending time with Xuanji in Lingnan, his poetry gained a more relaxed and affectionate style, as seen in "Early Morning Journey to Shangshan" which includes the lines "The rooster crows, the moon shines on the thatched inn, and footprints are seen on the frosty plank bridge."
Their poems are like two stars meeting, each with its own distinct brilliance yet reflecting each other.
When later generations of scholars discuss the poetry scene of the late Tang Dynasty, they always mention the legendary pair of Wen Tingyun and Yu Xuanji.
In his "Biographies of Tang Dynasty Talented Scholars," Xin Wenfang of the Yuan Dynasty exclaimed that Yu Xuanji's poems were "gentle and sorrowful, with the lingering sound of Yuefu poetry." Her deep emotions and vigorous writing would surely have impressed even Li Bai if he were to be reborn and see lines like "Tears fall silently on my pillow, my heart breaks in the flowers."
In his "Suiyuan Poetry Talks" during the Qing Dynasty, Yuan Mei praised her as "exquisitely beautiful and elegant, with a refined and graceful style," calling her the foremost female poet of the Tang Dynasty.
In his "History of Chinese Literature," modern literary historian Zheng Zhenduo summarized the two, calling Wen Tingyun the "patriarch of the Huajian school" for his exquisite and beautiful lyrics, and Yu Xuanji the "leading female Taoist priest" for her clear, sharp, and melancholic poems. Both of their works reached the pinnacle of artistry, shining brightly in the literary world and constantly offering new insights.
Their poems were juxtaposed in history, and their fragrance remains undiminished despite the passage of time.
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