That's right. What Chen Zhao had brought out was none other than a masterpiece renowned in his previous life: Memorial to Yueyang Tower!
Memorial to Yueyang Tower was an essay written by Fan Zhongyan, a Northern Song writer, on the fifteenth day of the ninth month in the sixth year of the Qingli era (October 17, 1046). He wrote it at the request of his friend Teng Zijing, the governor of Baling Prefecture, to commemorate the rebuilding of Yueyang Tower. The essay blended narration, description, lyricism, and argument. Stillness and motion complemented each other, light and shadow set each other off, and the language was concise with a harmonious rhythm. Its exceptional literary merit had made it famous for all time!
Besides the sweeping grandeur of its scenic descriptions, the essay contained many lines that had been celebrated through the ages!
For example: "Not pleased by external gains, not saddened by personal losses!"
Or: "When high in the halls of the court, worry for the people; when far away in the lakes and rivers, worry for one's ruler!"
And, of course: "Be the first to worry about the world's troubles, and the last to enjoy its pleasures!"
Chen Zhao's intentions were clear. If he wanted to convince the three old men across from him, he had to strike at once and bring out his trump card! He would overwhelm them with such an advantage that they would be utterly convinced!
If he wasn't going to play, then he wouldn't play. But if he did, he'd go all out! Were they afraid of the great writer Fan Zhongyan? Didn't they think he was too young to write a good essay? He wouldn't waste time arguing with them. He'd let Fan Zhongyan's writing do the talking!
Chen Zhao picked up the paper from the table and handed it to the three old men across from him.
"Please forgive my poor effort." Chen Zhao smiled faintly.
Deng Tiejun took the paper first and began reading in silence. Mu Tianque and Ma Qingtian blew casually on their teacups, their faces full of disdain.
He was just a child.
What kind of good essay could he possibly write?
And he'd written it on the spot, without even time to plan. Even if he'd memorized an old piece he'd revised again and again, there'd still be nothing to worry about. Literature depended on both talent and experience. Without either, you could strain until you dropped dead and still never write a good essay!
Mu Tianque and Ma Qingtian had already prepared what they'd say—a whole speech tearing apart the work of a junior. They'd finish reading it, then tear into it.
Deng Tiejun had started out just as unconcerned, but the moment he read the first line, his expression changed!
"I have observed that the finest views of Baling Prefecture are all found around Lake Dongting. It embraces distant mountains and swallows the Yangtze, vast and boundless. In the morning, sunlight; in the evening, shadow—its scenes change endlessly."
What tremendous force!
"It embraces distant mountains and swallows the Yangtze"! What a bold description!
The essay had swept in like a crashing tide right from the start!
But a good essay was said to need a phoenix's head, a leopard's tail, and a pig's belly. A strong opening didn't mean the rest would be just as good. Though Chen Zhao was young, there was nothing extraordinary about him managing to write one good line. Deng Tiejun steadied himself and continued reading.
But with every line, his astonishment grew. With every passage, the look on his face became more shocked.
By the end, Deng Tiejun's face was flushed with excitement. He couldn't help shouting:
"Excellent! What a fine essay!"
"A rare masterpiece!"
Mu Tianque and Ma Qingtian, who had been thinking about how to lecture the younger generation, were startled by their old friend's reaction. They stared at Deng Tiejun in shock.
Though Deng Tiejun was a calligrapher and painter, he was also deeply accomplished in classical prose. After all, while practicing calligraphy and painting, he had copied countless ancient steles and inscriptions. He had always held writing in classical Chinese to a strict standard; in his eyes, ordinary essays were worthless. He had read so many fine works that his tastes had grown exceedingly refined.
And now even Deng Tiejun, with his exacting standards and discerning taste, was praising Chen Zhao's essay aloud?
Mu Tianque and Ma Qingtian realized something was wrong.
What was going on?
Could it really be that good?
How was that possible? It was just a child's essay. The best he could do was write something passable. How could it possibly deserve to be called a rare masterpiece?
Mu Tianque and Ma Qingtian hurriedly snatched the paper and read it, full of doubts.
At first glance, both old men frowned.
The handwriting on the page was truly awful. You could call it chicken scratches or say it looked like a turtle had crawled across the paper. Either way, it was terrible. They had to struggle just to make out what it said. Even the homework of some grade-schoolers with poor handwriting looked eight times better than this!
But after reading a few lines, the two old men's expressions changed dramatically.
As experts in classical prose, both had a keen eye for quality. As they read on, they realized that this truly was a grand and powerful essay!
Overcome with excitement, the two old men couldn't help reading aloud:
"When spring is warm and the scenery bright, the waves are calm, the sky's light reaches down to the water, and all is blue for a thousand miles!"
"Ascending this tower, one feels refreshed in mind and spirit, forgetting both favor and disgrace, and raising a cup to the wind!"
"Orchid and angelica grow lush and green along the shore and islets. Sometimes the long mists clear, the bright moon shines for a thousand miles, the ripples gleam like gold, the still reflection lies like jade, and the fishermen answer one another's songs. What joy could surpass this?"
At last, after finishing the essay, the two old men couldn't contain their excitement and exclaimed together:
"Excellent!"
Bold and expansive, magnificent in scale!
Impeccable diction, profound in imagery!
A first-rate essay!
Faced with the praise of several excited old men, Chen Zhao merely smiled faintly, showing no particular reaction as he glugged down his tea.
Beside him, Deng Zixin gave Chen Zhao an approving look. Even with three experts praising him in unison, he remained so composed that he just sat there drinking tea. The boy had an impressive temperament!
In truth, Deng Zixin had completely misunderstood.
Chen Zhao was focused on drinking tea for one simple reason: he wanted to get his money's worth!
He rarely got to visit a high-end restaurant like this, so he naturally wanted to enjoy himself. The tea leaves were floating up and down in the bowl, drifting gracefully. It didn't look like cheap tea; it might even be expensive. Of course he was going to drink as much as he could! It'd be a waste not to take advantage of a good deal, wouldn't it?
When the three old men looked at Chen Zhao again, their expressions had all changed.
Before, they'd looked at him as a child. They hadn't exactly looked down on him, but they certainly hadn't taken him seriously.
Now, their expressions were complicated.
They felt guilty, since they'd tried to make him leave earlier.
They were astonished. How could someone so young write such a fine essay?
They admired him. Even they might not have been able to write Memorial to Yueyang Tower themselves.
And they were curious. With such extraordinary talent at such a young age, was he from some distinguished family of scholars?
At last, Deng Tiejun stood up, his expression solemn.
"Mr. Chen." Deng Tiejun had even changed how he addressed him, using an honorific now. "I was blind before and questioned your literary ability. I sincerely apologize. Please allow me to bow and apologize to you!"
With that, Deng Tiejun bowed deeply!
Chen Zhao hurriedly stood and bowed to Deng Tiejun in return. "You're too kind! I'm so young, so it was only natural that you had doubts."
Mu Tianque and Ma Qingtian also stood and bowed deeply!
Chen Zhao quickly bowed in return. After all, he was the junior here; he felt he hardly deserved such a formal gesture.
If anyone else from the literary world had been present, they would have been so shocked by the sight that their eyes nearly popped out.
Deng Tiejun, Mu Tianque, and Ma Qingtian were all highly respected scholars still alive today. The youngest, Deng Tiejun, was already past fifty, while Mu Tianque and Ma Qingtian were venerable authorities in their sixties and seventies. And now they were bowing in admiration of an underage boy's essay!
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