252. Mid-Autumn Festival Literary Gathering - Water Melody - When Will the Moon Be Bright (Part 7) (Page 1/2)
An elderly scholar with graying temples was struck dumb upon hearing the words "there should be no resentment."
The accumulated frustrations of half a lifetime of academic setbacks and the pain of losing loved ones suddenly surged up.
He covered his face with his sleeve in public and let out an uncontrollable wail!
This cry was like a fuse.
Countless scholars who had left their hometowns and studied diligently for years felt the same way, and sobs and sighs filled the air.
Old Cui's eyes also reddened upon hearing this.
But as she wiped away her tears, her hand suddenly tightened—
A thought exploded in her mind that made her heart pound even harder than when she saw the luxurious garden before.
This word! If this word could be printed...
The price of paper in Luoyang was so high that it was not just a matter of demand.
It's not just a word, it's a mountain of gold!
Old Cui suddenly looked up and met the gazes of her two daughters-in-law, Lin and Chen, instantly understanding the excitement in each other's eyes.
We've struck it rich!
This time, the Bianliang Gazette could easily have developed into the Henan Gazette!
The words and phrases were now being spread by word of mouth at an astonishing speed.
It spread rapidly from inside the courtyard to the long street.
Each utterance sparked a new and even more exaggerated uproar and commotion.
The scholars on the street first listened intently, holding their breath, but after hearing a few words clearly, they were so excited that they danced with joy.
They either buried their heads in their hands and wept bitterly, or looked up to the sky and roared.
He threw whatever he could into the air, looking like a madman.
This bizarre scene left the Zheng family servants maintaining order and the onlookers dumbfounded.
"Are these bookish gentlemen possessed?"
"Good heavens, could it be that Master Cui's poems truly contain divine magic?"
At the peak of this overwhelming, almost frenzied roar.
Cui Xian took one last look at the perfect, flawless moon in the sky.
Then take a deep breath of the crisp night air.
He poured all his youthful spirit, magnanimity, and most sincere wishes into the verses.
"People experience sorrow and joy, separation and reunion; the moon waxes and wanes, and nothing in this world is ever perfect."
The turbulent emotions that filled the garden were instantly calmed.
The old scholar who had been wailing earlier had stopped crying and was staring blankly at the bright moon.
Her face was still wet with tears.
His eyes, however, revealed a strange clarity and relief, as if soothed, as he murmured repeatedly, "Nothing is perfect since ancient times...Nothing is perfect since ancient times...So that's how it is, so that's how it is!"
Many of the scholars who had been excited just moments before gradually quieted down.
Everyone savored the profound philosophy contained in the poem.
I felt that all my intense emotions were soothed and calmed by these twelve words.
This phrase goes beyond mere talent and sentiment.
It has reached the level of philosophical thought and sacred heart!
The incident caused a great uproar in the heart of Yu Chu, the Henan provincial education commissioner.
He thought that the previous descriptions of scenery and expressions of emotion were already unparalleled.
Here, it can even be elevated to the level of understanding the profound principles of the waxing and waning of the heavens and the cycle of human life!
This is perfect...
It almost instilled a sense of "monster-like" fear.
It explored every possibility of Mid-Autumn Festival poetry.
Something unprecedented and unparalleled is right before our eyes!
So, how should the ending be made to live up to such a magnificent beginning and development?
Some people at the table had already stood up unconsciously, leaning forward, completely forgetting their manners.
Many more people held their breath.
He didn't even notice when his chopsticks and cup stopped moving; he was only staring intently at the figure under the moon.
A young scholar was so excited that he trembled and tightly gripped the arm of his classmate next to him.
At the other table, the old scholar had his eyes closed and his lips moving slightly.
It was as if they were repeatedly chewing over and weighing the weight of every word they had uttered.
My mind was so shocked that it went almost blank, with only one thought remaining: If this poem is completed, it will last for eternity!
At the banquet.
Countless gazes burned like flames, tense and on the verge of bursting.
Provincial Governor Cen Hongchang was ashen-faced and his breathing stopped.
The rest of the high-ranking officials were stunned, their minds blank, their hearts pounding like thunder.
Under the moon, Cui Xian took one last look at the bright moon that had witnessed the ages, and gently poured the remaining wine from his cup onto the ground in front of him.
It seems to be a tribute to all the past separations and regrets.
Then.
He slowly took a breath, his eyes, which reflected the Milky Way, shone brightly as he gazed at the boundless night sky.
Then he looked at the countless faces before him, all holding their breath in concentration.
It uttered that final, and most heartwarming, radiant blessing.
The voice wasn't loud, but it possessed a penetrating power and warmth that reached straight to the heart:
(This chapter is not finished, please click the next page to continue reading) 252. Mid-Autumn Festival Literary Gathering - Water Melody - When Will the Moon Be Bright (Part 7) (Page 2/2)
May we all live long and prosper—
He paused, his wide sleeves fluttering lightly, as if embracing the boundless moonlight.
Then it transforms into invisible blessings, spreading in all directions.
It's here!
The last sentence concludes!
Cen Hongchang's eyes were bloodshot as he stared intently at Cui Xian.
Cui Xian returned the smile and said, word by word:
"A thousand miles apart, we share the beauty of the moon!"
The last five words are gentle and bright.
It seemed even clearer and more perfect than the bright moon in the sky itself.
Carrying warmth that transcends mountains and rivers, it gently lands on everyone's heart.
Silent, yet possessing boundless power.
Cen Hongchang was struck as if by a heavy blow. His body swayed violently, and he would have almost collapsed on the spot if he hadn't grabbed the edge of the table in time.
His gaze was fixed, and he mechanically repeated, "It's hard to be perfect in ancient times...Chanjuan...Chanjuan..."
Listen, that's the sound of a broken heart!
However.
At this moment, no one cared about this poor governor.
As Cui Xian finished speaking, “We share the same moon across a thousand miles”.
boom--!
The accumulated silence was completely ignited!
Exclamations of amazement swept through the entire garden like a burst dam.
An old scholar who had once angrily denounced Cui Xian as a "traitor" threw his wine cup into the pond in a moment of exhilaration, splashing water as he exclaimed, "What divine skill! This is a gift from heaven, something no human could achieve!"
Upon witnessing this scene, Zheng Qizhen said: "...May I ask what you mean?"
Just because it's not your property doesn't mean you can treat it like this!
result.
Another wine cup was smashed to pieces by a scholar in his excitement.
"The Mid-Autumn Festival poems... come to an end! It will be difficult for future generations to write them!"
"Unprecedented throughout history! This is the first poem for the Mid-Autumn Festival that is unprecedented in history!"
"Headmaster Cui! Please accept my bow!"
Outside the long street, the noise was deafening.
Countless hats, headscarves, and books were tossed about like snowflakes, causing the lights on the south street of the Prince's Mansion to sway.
The scholars who heard the last sentence went completely mad:
"Did you hear that?! 'Sharing the same moon across a thousand miles'! We...we are all in the poem!"
"The spirit of literature shines on this night! The God of Literature has truly descended to earth!"
"Copy it! Write it down quickly! Not a single word can be wrong!"
Several scholars, their eyes bloodshot and voices hoarse, rushed to the main table, almost roaring, "Madam Cui! Print it! It must be printed immediately, in its entirety, exactly as it was!"
"This is not just a single word, but the very foundation of the literary destiny of our Great Liang! This special issue will be delivered to thirteen provinces by express courier!"
Please!
Old Cui's eardrums were throbbing from the shock.
Several farsighted scholars who brought their writing brushes and ink to the banquet and promptly recorded "Prelude to Water Melody" were overwhelmed by the enthusiastic crowd.
They fought and scrambled, spilling ink everywhere.
The paper was torn apart in the scramble, then pieced back together as if it were a precious treasure.
The situation was completely out of control.
Yet it exudes an almost pilgrimage-like fervor.
During the meal.
Su Qi stood up abruptly, raised his glass and drank with He Xu, Zhou Feiran, Meng Shen, and the others: "What a Cui Xian! A prodigy! Truly a prodigy descended upon the world! I'm impressed!"
"I, Su Qi, am completely convinced!"
And in the heart of these raging waves.
Cui Xian stood with his hands behind his back, his dark blue robe fluttering slightly.
The night breeze caressed his calm face, leaving only a clear and bright look in his eyes.
It's as if this work, which overturned the literary world and illuminated the ages, was nothing more than a cup of tea that he brewed.
When the heat is just right, the aroma will naturally fill the air.
Once this phrase was uttered, the moonlight of a thousand years was attributed to it.
He stood alone under the moon, his sleeves embracing the gentle breeze.
That extraordinary poem was nothing more than a drop of ink from his inkstone, written casually with a flick of his wrist.
Nestled in her mother's arms, little Cui Ying gazed at her older brother from afar, her eyes sparkling: "Waaah, brother, you're so handsome!"
The handsome elder brother, Cui Xian, waited quietly.
The real highlight.
They've arrived.
Just as this boiling commotion reached its climax...
Several students from the prefectural school finally squeezed into the Zheng family residence, panting heavily.
They didn't have time to ponder the reason behind this madness that had gripped the garden.
He then called out urgently towards the direction of the main seat:
"Lord Fangbo! Headmaster! Gentlemen!"
"Instructor Zhu has suddenly fallen ill and is unable to preside over this year's provincial examination!"
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