Sheng Hualan sat happily in the study, her head cradled in both hands as she gazed at the mounted scroll spread across the desk. It was, of course, the first copy of "A Spray of Plum Blossoms: Rain Beats the Pear Blossoms Behind Closed Doors," handwritten by Wang Yan.
Sheng Hong truly adored his bargain son-in-law's calligraphy. The poem was good, but the calligraphy was even better. Especially since the poem had a story behind it—it had been composed by Wang Yan out of longing for his eldest daughter. Once it spread, it would surely become a fine tale.
In this contradictory age, when scholars could be weak, unyielding, romantic, and everything in between, love stories between men and women were bound to spread with astonishing speed. With Ouyang Xiu's commentary and Sheng Hong giving it another push, it would reach Liao territory within two months.
Then everyone would benefit. Sheng Hong would make an appearance among the scholars and officials, entering the court's field of vision—and the emperor's. Wang Yan, meanwhile, would become famous on the strength of a single poem. Before he had even shown his face, he would already be widely known. Reputation was the most important thing to a scholar. In the future, whenever Wang Yan went out, he would only need to introduce himself before people acted as though they had known him in spirit for years, saying, "I've long admired you," while lavishly praising Wang Yan's romantic verse and elegant sensibilities.
By then, Wang Yan would more or less have established himself.
But Sheng Hong had not lost his head. He still urged Wang Yan to make another copy. He had even found a fine piece of jade that he had kept for many years, intending to carve a seal for his bargain son-in-law.