The Salt Surveillance Censor was a post unique to Liang-Huai. Though only ranked third grade, it was one of the most lucrative positions in the empire.
Not only did he oversee Liang-Huai's salt taxes, but he also held the authority to investigate and discipline officials. In terms of standing, he ranked no lower than a provincial governor, only just beneath the Governor-General of Liangjiang. Thus, the post had always been reserved for those close to the Emperor.
Jia Lian's uncle by marriage, Lin Ruhai, had once been just such an eminent figure.
But that was all old news now. After Lin Ruhai died of illness while in office, his former wealth and glory vanished like smoke.
The Salt Administration Office now lay bleak and desolate. Even most of the servants and maids had been dismissed, leaving only the few attendants Jia Lian had brought from the capital.
It was one evening.
The Small Hall behind the office compound was, unusually, brightly lit once more. The two Bronze Stoves had been stuffed full of Silver Frost Charcoal, making the room as warm as early summer.
In the candlelight, Jia Lian kept knocking back cup after cup of Yellow Soup. His eyes had long since gone unfocused and his body swayed wildly, yet he still babbled thick-tonguedly, "Come, come, come! This... this cup, Second Brother must drink to your lovely confidante! If not for her, how could we brothers be drinking so freely and happily?!"
He had spent these past days arranging the funeral while also looking after his young cousin, and he had gone more than half a year without properly indulging in drink. His belly had long been crawling with wine cravings.
So when he heard that Sun Shaozong had brought a female companion, he was overjoyed.
According to the customs of the day, if Jia Lian and Sun Shaozong were the only two men present, it would have been inappropriate to drink at the office compound for the sake of his cousin's reputation—but with a woman from the Sun household there to keep them company, there was nothing left to worry about.
Jia Lian had therefore happily ordered someone to invite Ruan Rong to the rear courtyard and arrange for her to rest with his cousin. Then he immediately laid out a feast and dragged Sun Shaozong into drinking from noon until evening.
Seeing that Jia Lian was clearly dead drunk, Sun Shaozong drank another cup with him, then took advantage of his inattention to replace the liquor in both their cups with tea.
But the moment he set the teapot back on the table, Jia Lian suddenly collapsed over it and burst into tears. He mumbled, "My poor cousin... a girl like a fairy descended to earth, yet her fate is so cruel! First she lost her mother, then her father. These days, she has barely spoken at all, and she's grown so thin she hardly looks human!"
Sun Shaozong was left speechless. Just as he was debating whether to summon the servants and have Jia Lian carried back to bed, the man pounded the table and shouted, "Daiyu, Daiyu! It's not that your Second Master Lian is rotten-hearted, it's just... it's just..."
What exactly it was, he mumbled too indistinctly to make out. But the mere two words "Daiyu" struck Sun Shaozong's mind like thunder and lightning, leaving it buzzing!
Daiyu?
Lin Daiyu?!
Wasn't she the heroine of Dream of the Red Chamber?!
Sun Shaozong had also been a rough sort in his previous life. He had loved tales of the Three Kingdoms all his life, and had dabbled quite a bit in Water Margin and Journey to the West. Of the Four Great Classics, only Dream of the Red Chamber had escaped him entirely.
Thus, he had no idea that Jia Lian, Sun Shaozu, and the others were characters from the book as well.
But he had at least heard the names of its main characters: Jia Baoyu, Lin Daiyu, and Xue Baochai!
Now that he had suddenly heard Daiyu's name and connected it to Jia Manor, how could he fail to realize that he had transmigrated into Dream of the Red Chamber?
But why did it have to be Dream of the Red Chamber?!
If he had gone to the world of the Three Kingdoms or Water Margin, then with his foreknowledge and this fierce martial strength, even if he could not build an imperial dominion, he could at least carve out land and earn a noble title!
But Dream of the Red Chamber...
What did he know about what was actually written in that book?
As Jia Lian cried and laughed before him, Sun Shaozong racked his brains for a long while. He only vaguely recalled that Dream of the Red Chamber was mainly about Jia Manor and seemed to be a tragic love story—but as for the actual plot, he remembered almost nothing.
The more he thought about it, the more irritated he became. Jia Lian was also chattering away like some old woman, so Sun Shaozong grabbed a jar of yellow wine, casually slapped off the clay seal, and tilted his head back to gulp it down!
He now stood around one meter ninety-three tall and weighed roughly two hundred and forty jin. Naturally, his stomach could hold considerably more than an ordinary man's. In only a short while, he drained the entire jar of yellow wine.
Together with the two pots he had drunk earlier, he had consumed at least four jin of liquor!
Though yellow wine was not especially strong, roughly comparable to beer, its aftereffects were far more potent. After drinking so wildly, Sun Shaozong soon became thoroughly drunk as well.
In his muddled state, some wire in his head must have come loose. He clinked his chopsticks against the cups and plates, and "The Mighty River Flows East" burst from his throat.
The desolate, majestic song drifted through the night, perfectly complementing the bleak atmosphere left behind after the office compound's former prosperity.
Creak~
The windows of the West Chamber in the rear courtyard opened to either side. Ruan Rong poked her head out, listened for a moment, then turned back curiously and asked, "Brother Sun keeps singing about the Yangtze and heroes. It sounds rather moving. Does Sister Lin know what song he is singing?"
Following her gaze, one saw a tiny figure seated on a spring bench, delicate as ice carved from jade. Clad head to toe in plain mourning clothes, who else could she have been but Lin Daiyu?
Though the two had spent only half a day together, they were both daughters of official families who had lost their mothers young, and neither possessed a particularly conventional temperament. They had already developed the feeling that they had met too late.
Perhaps a chill had blown in through the window. Daiyu drew in her shoulders and frowned in thought for quite some time before shaking her head. "This poem is ancient in style, majestic and stirring, tragic yet impassioned. It deserves to rank among the finest of all the 'Linjiang Xian' poems throughout the ages. Yet I have never heard it before, much less know who wrote it."
Seeing how pitiful she looked, Ruan Rong hurriedly shut the window.
Then, hearing that she had never encountered the poem before, Ruan Rong's eyes suddenly lit up. She dashed over to Daiyu, flopped over the Round Table covered in Shu Brocade, and eagerly asked, "Then do you think Brother Sun might have written it?"
Daiyu stared wide-eyed at her for a moment, then suddenly burst out laughing. Quickly covering her little mouth, she giggled, "They say beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. Sister, you are something else—you heard one song and somehow found yourself a great poet!"
Ruan Rong's cheeks flushed pink. She too felt that she had let her imagination run wild, but she stubbornly protested, "You haven't heard this poem either, so why couldn't Brother Sun have written it?!"
Daiyu laughed again. "I'm so young, and it's not as though I'm some great scholar. How many poems and songs could I possibly have read? If every poem I have not heard must have been written by your darling, wouldn't he be able to dash off a hundred poems after a few drinks? Being a literary plagiarist is truly easy!"
Ruan Rong was rendered speechless by that. Seeing the girl smile like a little fox, she could not help but pounce on her indignantly and tickle her beneath the arms and around the waist, making Daiyu beg for mercy again and again.
After this round of laughter and play, the two grew even closer.
When Ruan Rong found Daiyu's little hands ice-cold, without the faintest trace of warmth, she simply opened her wool coat and wrapped Daiyu entirely in her embrace. Rubbing her chin against Daiyu's forehead, she sighed with mock reproach and genuine affection, "Everything about you is wonderful, except that sharp little tongue of yours never spares anyone."
Daiyu, meanwhile, had buried her face between those soft peaks. Her nose and mouth were filled with warm fragrance, and she felt an indescribable comfort in her heart. Unable to help herself, she offered this overly intimate warning, "Sister, acting so recklessly... aren't you afraid that Captain Sun... that Captain Sun's family will refuse to acknowledge you? Do not forget the rule: 'A formal marriage makes a wife; eloping makes a concubine.'"
She had originally wanted to say, "Aren't you afraid Captain Sun will become a heartless man?" But fearing the words would wound her too deeply, she changed her phrasing at the last moment.
Even so, Ruan Rong's body stiffened at the words. Yet she soon relaxed again, burying her pretty face in Daiyu's Black hair as she said softly, "So what if I can only be a concubine? It is still far better than missing a good man and regretting it for the rest of my life."
The protagonist sang while drunk only to mourn his previous life.
He was neither showing off nor seeking fame and glory.
Before him was a drunkard too insensible to care, while the two women eavesdropping merely laughed and played for a few lines. Neither believed he had written it.
And the matter was never mentioned again afterward.
If that still counts as literary plagiarism, then I have nothing to say.
Before you continue