Drunk

As soon as the words were spoken, Bai Ruoli was stunned. She had been in the world of pleasure for many years and had heard countless flattering words, but these words carried a completely different weight when they came from Shen Jingchuan's mouth.

She had already fallen for this exceptionally talented young man at first sight, and now, being praised by him with such words, her heart skipped a beat, her ears burned uncontrollably, and her small hands gripped the hem of her skirt tightly.

She composed herself before rising and curtsying, her voice much softer than before, carrying a hint of genuine panic and joy that she couldn't hide.

"Young master's poem is exquisite, but I... am truly unworthy of such praise." She didn't even consider how much this poem would increase her status; she just kept replaying those lines in her mind, feeling that this was the most touching thing she had ever received in her life.

The four top courtesans beside them were also stunned. They quickly exchanged glances, their eyes filled with undisguised admiration. They had been hoping to obtain a short poem as a memento, and now, seeing that Young Master Shen could casually compose such a fine line, they felt both excited and envious. They envied Bai Ruoli, but they also hoped that they could obtain even half a line themselves.

The four girls congratulated Bai Ruoli with smiles, and then raised their wine glasses one after another to toast Shen Jingchuan.

Bai Ruoli didn't join in urging others to drink. She had feelings for Shen Jingchuan and couldn't bear to make him drink, but she also didn't want to spoil the fun in such a lively setting.

She called over her personal maid and ordered her to bring paper and pen. She then sat down at the table next to her and copied down the four lines of poetry that Shen Jingchuan had just given her.

The wine from this other world was smooth and mild, with little spiciness. Shen Jingchuan estimated that its alcohol content was only slightly higher than that of red wine, far less than that of modern baijiu. Therefore, he drank it very relaxed at first and didn't take it too seriously.

But this wine has a strong aftereffect. After a few rounds, the heat rises from my chest to the top of my head, and my mind gradually becomes heavy and lightheaded.

Shen Jingchuan has always had a peculiar drinking habit: when he is sober, he has a very strong sense of proportion, but once he crosses the line of being slightly tipsy, the alcohol kicks in and he completely lets his guard down—he won't refuse when others urge him to drink, and he'll pick up a glass and drink one glass after another, completely unable to control himself.

The more they drank, the more lively the atmosphere became. Zhou Tong had the best alcohol tolerance and showed no signs of drunkenness. He held his wine glass and chatted with everyone, making friends with everyone he met. Xu Mo had drunk quite a bit, but he still kept a steady expression. Su Yan had the lowest alcohol tolerance and was already dizzy and lightheaded. He was leaning on the edge of the table with his arms, and his eyelids were almost stuck together.

Shen Jingchuan suddenly stood up. The alcohol rushed to his head, dispelling all his worries, leaving only a surge of poetic inspiration in his heart.

He has favored Li Bai's "Bring in the Wine" for many years, and his WeChat signature is "Enjoy life while you can, for the golden goblet will not stand empty before the moon." He knows it by heart and can recite it off the top of his head.

Emboldened by the alcohol, he announced loudly, "Gentlemen, I've suddenly remembered a poem, which will perfectly accompany this drink!"

The moment these words were spoken, the entire room fell silent, and everyone immediately became alert. Even the drowsy Su Yan was startled, sobering up considerably on the spot, and looked straight up at him.

Bai Ruoli quickly gripped the brush, pressed her fingertips flat on the spread-out Xuan paper, and held her breath, waiting to put pen to paper.

Shen Jingchuan picked up the glass of wine in front of him, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp. His voice, slightly hoarse from intoxication, rang out:

"Have you not seen the Yellow River's waters come from the sky, rushing to the sea never to return?"

Have you not seen the sorrow reflected in the bright mirror of the high hall, where white hair, once black as silk in the morning, has turned to snow by evening?

After reciting the two lines, he grabbed the wine pot and refilled his glass, gently slamming it on the table before continuing:

Enjoy life to the fullest when you are successful, and don't let your golden goblet stand empty before the moon.

"Everyone has their own unique talents, and even if I spend all my money, it will come back again."

After another drink, his steps faltered slightly, but his enthusiasm only grew more unrestrained. In his half-drunken state, his unbridled recklessness was on full display, and he continued reciting the poem with unrestrained passion, following the tune:

"Let us feast on roasted lamb and slaughtered oxen, and drink three hundred cups of wine in one go."

"... Let us together dispel eternal sorrows."

After the poem was finished, the entire room was still immersed in its unrestrained and magnificent charm, and they were stunned for a long time.

Xu Mo sat there, stunned, filled with admiration. He felt as if every word had struck his heart. After a long while, he picked up a full glass of wine, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp. He sighed deeply, "A masterpiece for all time. To hear it today is an honor beyond measure."

Zhou Tong was illiterate and usually found pretentious poetry difficult to understand, but this poem, "Bring in the Wine," was straightforward and unrestrained. He understood every word, and his blood was pumping. He grabbed a jar of wine from the table, grabbed the jar, and gulped down half of it. He wiped his mouth and laughed loudly, "Delicious! Drinking with Young Master Shen is truly the greatest pleasure in life!"

Su Yan had also sobered up long ago. Holding the wine glass, she stood there stunned, feeling that all the drinking poems she had read before paled in comparison to this one.

Bai Ruoli's fingers trembled slightly as she held the pen, ink stains spreading across the paper. Only one thought swirled in her mind: What kind of man is this? He can compose timeless verses with ease, and his unrestrained brilliance is so captivating that it's impossible to look away.

She was lost in thought when she suddenly heard Shen Jingchuan slam his hand on the table and shout, "There's more!"

Everyone was startled and turned to look. Shen Jingchuan's cheeks were flushed, but his eyes shone with an astonishing brightness. The alcohol had fueled his chivalrous spirit, and he uttered a resounding sentence, each word like a sword drawn from its sheath:

"Zhao guest wears a silk tassel, Wu hook shines like frost and snow."

A silver saddle shines on a white horse, swift as a shooting star.

He can kill one person in ten steps, and leave no trace for a thousand miles.

He did his deed, dusted himself off, and left, concealing his identity and name.

As he recited, he raised his hand and gestured as if wielding a sword, his chivalrous spirit shining through in his half-drunk, half-awake state.

"..."

Oh no, I forgot the last two lines, I can't continue.

To cover up forgetting his lines, he grabbed his wine glass, raised it high, and laughed loudly, "And another one!"

As he finished speaking, he tilted his head back and downed the wine in his cup. The alcohol, combined with his heroic spirit, suddenly made his tone somber. He knew this poem, "The River All Red," by heart; he could recite it instantly.

My hair stands on end in anger, as I lean against the railing, the rain has just stopped.

I raise my eyes, look up at the sky and let out a long roar, my heart filled with intense emotions.

Thirty years of fame and fortune are but dust and dirt; eight thousand miles of road are but clouds and moon.

Don't let your youth slip away in vain, only to regret it later!

The shame of the Jingkang Incident remains unavenged.

The hatred of the subjects, when will it end!

Driving a long chariot, we shattered the Helan Mountains pass.

With lofty ambitions, we feast on the flesh of the Xiongnu when hungry, and laughingly drink their blood when thirsty.

Let us start anew, reclaim our lost lands, and return to the imperial palace.

After the poem was recited, the room fell silent. The previous unrestrained revelry and drunkenness seemed to have been suppressed by this generous and tragic sentiment.

Xu Mo's face was solemn, his fingers gripping the wine glass so tightly that it turned slightly white. After a long while, he sighed in a deep voice:

"With a broad vision and a deep concern for the nation, Young Master Shen is truly an extraordinary person." After saying this, he picked up his cup and drank it all in one gulp.

Zhou Tong also sensed the heroic spirit in the lyrics, and a surge of heat rose in his chest. He slammed the wine jar heavily onto the table.

"Great! It's so energizing!"

Su Yan had long since sobered up and looked at Shen Jingchuan with awe, feeling that even the great masters of the previous dynasty might not have been able to write such words.

Bai Ruoli's hand holding the brush trembled slightly, leaving a few trembling ink stains on the Xuan paper. She looked at the half-drunk figure standing at the table. One moment he was a romantic scholar who could compose a hundred poems after drinking a lot of wine, and the next he was like a great general with a sword drawn, his noble spirit shining brightly.

Her mind raced, and she felt that she would probably never be able to look at any man again in her life.