251. Mid-Autumn Festival Literary Gathering - Water Melody - When Will the Moon Be Bright (Part 6) (Page 1/2)
"Headmaster, please sing a poem!"
"Indeed! With such a brilliant example from the Prefect, how can the Headmaster conceal his shortcomings?"
"We beg the abbot to bestow his ink! Let us broaden our horizons!"
The banquet was in full swing.
After several rounds of drinks and several dishes, the atmosphere at the banquet was filled with the clinking of glasses.
It was precisely at this time, when the effects of the alcohol were building and everyone was most relaxed and carefree, that the atmosphere became most lively.
Cen Hongchang made a striking first impression with a superb piece.
And then he publicly pointed his sword at the headmaster.
It implicitly suggests a desire for mutual learning and comparison.
How could this not invigorate the slightly tipsy guests and make them hold their breath in anticipation?
Cheers, slamming, and laughter erupted from all corners of the courtyard.
They merged into a chorus of urging voices.
Under the watchful eyes of countless people.
Cui Xian sat upright in the main seat and calmly drank half a cup.
Then he looked at Cen Hongchang and said with a gentle smile, "You are too modest, sir."
"A poem titled 'Osmanthus Fragrance' depicts a vast landscape with the imagery of 'a thousand acres of glazed tiles,' while the sentiment of 'old hopes for officialdom' carries profound meaning."
"What's even more remarkable is that the line 'not wasting ten years of lamplight' is a truly beautiful and heartfelt expression of encouragement."
"Xian, I admire you greatly."
These compliments made Cen Hongchang feel delighted, and his face lit up with even more pride. He repeatedly said, "I am ashamed."
My back straightened up a little without me even realizing it.
The provincial inspector Zhou Xiang and the educational commissioner Yu Chu, who were sitting at the same table, exchanged a glance, their hearts skipping a beat at the same time—
Choi Hyun, when did you become so easy to talk to?
Something's not right!
Before the two could even finish their thought...
But Cui Xian smiled and said loudly, "Since you all are so hospitable, how could I dare to spoil the fun?"
After saying this, he drank the remaining wine in his cup in one gulp.
The young man's unrestrained and bold spirit drew cheers from the crowd.
Cui Xian poured himself another cup, then got up and left his seat.
He strolled leisurely to the lush osmanthus tree in the courtyard, moonlight falling on his shoulders, a few golden petals adorning his dark blue robe.
Standing among them, she appeared even more elegant and handsome than the autumn osmanthus.
He surveyed the entire room with a clear gaze, and finally smiled and said, "The excellent words of Lord Fangbo have inspired me to write more."
"Then, I, the academy, will also humbly offer a poem—this tune is set to 'Shuidiao Getou'."
After a brief pause.
Cui Xian gazed at the bright moon in the mid-sky, his clear voice like jade: "It is called—When Will the Bright Moon Appear?"
As the last five words were uttered, the clamor of voices in the garden instantly subsided into an absolute, expectant silence.
Cen Hongchang put on an act, mimicking Cui Xian's previous posture, and raised his hand to make a "please" gesture.
The smile in Choi Hyeon's eyes deepened.
I'm sorry, Lao Cen.
You've provoked me just right.
From taking over the academy, descending the mountain to suppress the Zheng family, and intimidating the provincial inspector, to passing on the secrets of the eight-legged essay and hosting a banquet for all the scholars in the city.
I've been waiting for this night—
With his "divine talent," he turned the tide in one battle, washing away all his past mistakes.
The foul air of my house being smashed and me being slandered as a "traitor to the scriptures" needs to be cleansed by a great victory that will astound the world.
The controversy sparked by the theory that the Twenty Classics are flawed needs to be quelled by these impeccable "orthodox masterpieces".
The grand ambition of presiding over the provincial examinations and clarifying the cultural heritage of Henan needs such brilliance to lay the foundation!
therefore.
Tonight, I will not only win.
We must also win unprecedented glory and the hearts of the people.
In that case, let us invite the poet Su Shi (Dongpo) to illuminate this night—
Let the moonlight, unique to this "first poem of the Mid-Autumn Festival" for a thousand years, overshadow all the splendor of the event.
Take a good look.
I need to prepare...
It's packed up.
With this thought in mind, when Cui Xian looked up again, his eyes were clear and bright, reflecting the starry sky and moon.
The night breeze, as if sensing his presence, blew by, causing the sleeves of his dark blue robe to flutter wildly.
Cui Xian did not rush to recite.
Instead, he raised his head and gazed for a long time at the full, almost domineering moon in the sky, his handsome profile clearly defined in the moonlight.
Then, he flipped his wrist.
He offered a perfunctory toast to the bright moon, then tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.
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This series of movements was unrestrained and elegant, as if he were truly drinking with the ancient heavens.
Such a dashing and unrestrained demeanor, even before he uttered a word, drew cheers from countless onlookers.
Cen Hongchang: "..."
I can't stand your loading skills anymore!
Do you really want to write this poem or not?
Just as Cen Hongchang was inwardly complaining.
Cui Xian spoke.
When will the moon be clear and bright? I raise my cup to ask the heavens.
The first line is like jade splashing from a cold spring.
The old scholar near the water trembled, and his ivory chopsticks clattered onto the porcelain plate.
He seemed oblivious, only pointing tremblingly into the courtyard: "To strike the heavens with a wine cup... Such a starting move, a madman? No, a prodigy!"
All the officials and scholars present, those who were literate, felt a chill run down their spines.
The once noisy banquet suddenly fell silent, with only the faint sound of the wind blowing through the lamplight.
Cen Hongchang stood frozen in place.
Cui Xian seemed oblivious, his gaze following the jade disc drifting through the gaps in the clouds, his tone tinged with a touch of wistful longing:
"I wonder what year it is tonight in the celestial palace."
"Wonderful!" a young scholar exclaimed excitedly.
His mouth was immediately covered by his classmate, but both of their eyes were filled with fervent light.
Many people unconsciously looked up at the sky, their souls seemingly ascending to the ethereal palace with the words.
The academician's hand, which was stroking his beard, froze in mid-air.
Cui Xian's lips curled slightly, and suddenly he flicked his wide sleeves.
As if trying to capture the pure breeze of the heavens, the voice suddenly became clear and melodious.
"I long to ride the wind and return, but I fear the jade palaces and crystal towers are too cold at such heights."
A middle-aged civil official stood up in a rage, so excited he was almost incoherent: "What a wonderful 'wanting to leave yet hesitating to stay'! It perfectly captures the heart of a celestial being and the emotions of a mortal! It's absolutely brilliant!"
Some scholars couldn't help but recite along, their eyes shining brightly.
Cui Xian suddenly turned around, facing the brightly lit pavilions and the dense crowd.
The light in his eyes shone brighter than the millions of lights reflected in the pond.
He raised his hand, as if inviting someone, or perhaps dancing a solitary, drunken dance.
A clear, melodious voice pierced the air: "Dancing with my shadow, how unlike the mortal world!"
"boom--!"
The restraint that filled the garden was completely ignited!
Cheers, slams, and stomping erupted like a landslide and a tsunami!
Several young scholars jumped onto stools in excitement, waving their arms and blushing.
Wu Qinglan abruptly left his seat, his voice trembling yet booming as he told everyone he met, "See that? That's my student! Back in the clan school, not long after he started his studies, he already possessed such extraordinary talent!"
Pei Jian and Li Heyu were pounding the table in celebration of their younger brother Xian's extraordinary and unparalleled poem.
Hearing Wu Qinglan's words, he angrily retorted, "Old man Wu, aren't we your students?"
Master Wu looked at the two of them blankly.
Excuse me, who are you?
Zhou Xiang's wine cup spilled, but he was completely unaware, staring blankly at the "radiant" figure in the room.
Cen Hongchang stood there, his forced composure finally crumbling.
The hand gripping the wine glass trembled slightly.
It's cold now.
...Is it too late for him to turn around and run away now?
The courtyard was abuzz with excitement.
Outside the courtyard.
The scholars on the long street were as anxious as ants on a hot pan!
They could only hear waves crashing one after another inside the garden.
The cheers and applause were almost frenzied, with occasional fragments of indistinct words drifting in on the wind.
It tickles the heart.
"What exactly happened inside?"
"What earth-shattering words did the headmaster utter?"
Countless people craned their necks, stood on tiptoe, and scratched their heads in frustration.
I wish I could have ears that can hear everything, or simply turn into a bird and fly over the high wall.
Let's go and find out what's going on.
Some impatient ones had already started climbing the walls of the Zheng family compound, creating a chaotic and comical scene.
Inside the Zheng residence.
Cui Xian's lyrics continue.
"The moon turns through the red pavilion, shines low through the embroidered window, illuminating my sleepless night. There should be no resentment, so why is the moon always full when we are apart?"
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