At Qionggui Lane, Lieutenant Li hurried towards the inn.
In Beijing, on the day of the Autumn Equinox, the evening breeze finally brought a touch of coolness.
The moment my left foot stepped into the front hall, well, the refreshing feeling was gone, swallowed up by the clamor and heat of the crowd, leaving not a trace.
All eyes turned to him, giving him the illusion that he was the top courtesan of Langyin Pavilion.
It's just...too hot!
In the front hall of the inn, the candlelight was bright, illuminating the scholars in their Confucian hats, blue robes, and feather fans who were gathered in the room.
The astringency of fresh ink, the intensity of aged wine, and the rich aroma of precious incense mingled together, weighing heavily on Li Chengfeng's heart.
Benches, square tables, and even corner counters—wherever there was room to stand, figures filled the space.
An elderly scholar with white hair and beard stroked his beard and pondered, while young talents in their prime swayed their fans with restraint, and several officials in casual clothes sat leisurely sipping tea.
Eloquent discussions, quoting classical texts, affected laughter, and the clinking of glasses...
It all blended into a refined clamor, making one think that the inn was hosting some extraordinary literary gathering.
In reality, almost everyone was distracted, their eyes constantly glancing at the door leading to the backyard.
Li Chengfeng thought to himself, "This is bad." He went out to inquire about some news. When he left, the inn was lively, but it shouldn't be like this.
Just as he was about to steel himself and rush past, a gaunt old man strode forward and blocked his way.
With that kind of reaction and those gait, who would believe he's sixty?
The old man nodded almost imperceptibly, as if he himself hadn't been the one who had just moved so swiftly.
Li Chengfeng sighed inwardly, but still stood still, clasped his hands in front of his chest, and bowed deeply.
The angle was neither too deep nor too shallow, neither appearing dismissive nor perfunctory, nor humble nor arrogant.
There was nothing I could do; the old man in front of me was the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy, a fourth-rank official.
Not to mention Li Chengfeng, even his deputy commander would have to perform this salute here.
“Brother Li…” After a very noticeable pause, the old man slowly stroked his long beard, “Is it true?”
Li Chengfeng cursed Fengjing under his breath.
They don't even know his official position or his name, yet they still try to trick him into revealing information.
"Chancellor Zhang, I didn't understand."
Tsk... These young people nowadays really have no respect for elders. They clearly understood what was going on but didn't reveal any information.
At this moment, another elderly person also came over.
"Lieutenant Li, we just want to ask if that poem was really written by Helian Chaolu?"
This person spoke urgently and said the correct name.
Li Chengfeng also recognized him; he was an old editor from the Hanlin Academy, who, compared to Zhang Jijiu, seemed more like a pure scholar.
He cupped his hands in a gesture of respect again, and said, "Yes."
Martial artists are considered to be of a lower status than scholars. Even though Li Chengfeng is a member of the Imperial Guard, these self-important scholars would never bother with him.
Now they're all eagerly crowding around, and he knows perfectly well what they're after.
“What was Prime Minister Pei’s commentary…”
"yes."
The crisp and decisive answer, delivered with conviction, immediately stirred up a commotion in the front hall once again.
If the person involved, a captain of the Imperial Guard, admits it, how could it be fake?
The editor took a quick step, seemingly about to grab Li Chengfeng's arm, but Li easily dodged it.
The old man didn't seem to mind and hurriedly asked, "I heard that he had a new poem when he met Prime Minister Pei. Could Lieutenant Li recite it?"
"No, I don't remember."
Everyone: ...
After a brief silence, it immediately erupted into a frenzy.
What a liar! He didn't even remember the poems and essays that Prime Minister Pei praised?!
Li Chengfeng had no intention of wasting time with them, so he clasped his hands in a fist and said loudly, "I have military duties to attend to, so I will not keep you company any longer."
Before anyone could react, he swiftly passed through the hall; his speed and agile movements were something most people couldn't keep up with.
In the blink of an eye, they disappeared from the front hall.
"Hey, don't go yet!"
"Such poetic talent! I must introduce him to someone!"
Only after the person left did everyone vent their dissatisfaction.
After all, most people didn't hold official positions and dared not complain openly; the title of Imperial Guard was still somewhat intimidating.
The old editor of the Hanlin Academy also looked reluctant and shook his head.
"Having accomplished the affairs of the king and the world, one wins fame both before and after death."
"Poor old age!"
He swayed his head and recited the verses, ignoring everyone present, and walked straight past Zhang Jijiu, leaving the inn.
The officials knew they wouldn't hear any new works tonight, so they left one after another.
Only the young talents and busybodies remained, unwilling to leave, and continued their loud discussions.
"Eight hundred miles of roasted meat are distributed among the troops, fifty strings of music resound beyond the border, autumn review of troops on the battlefield, ha..."
A mouthful of strong liquor went down his throat, causing the talented scholar to shake his head and exclaim, "Wonderful, wonderful!"
Everyone sighed, having thought they would see another masterpiece tonight, only to have it ruined by that murderous talent.
Hmph, you crude brute!
"I wonder how Miss Helian's poetic inspiration is tonight?"
"This time of year, the beginning of autumn, is the most prone to feelings of melancholy, and it is also the first time that Miss Helian has left the border and seen the prosperity of Fengjing..."
Do you think she might be bursting with inspiration right now?
"That makes sense!"
"Wait, wait a little longer."
"I wonder what Miss Helian looks like..."
Huh? Where did that dissenting voice come from?
Excuse me! Rude!
Did they come for his good looks? They came for his poetic talent!
"How about... we ask the waiter?"
No one knows which uncouth person from some back alley uttered these words, and the front hall fell silent.
"Waiter, bring me a pot of wine!"
"Waiter, please bring me another dish!"
...
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