The Great Poetic Dog

On Caishikou Street, where common folk usually gathered, two nobles had come today. Though they dressed plainly, their bearing, the pristine cleanliness of their clothes, and the jade thumb rings hidden beneath their sleeves marked them as no ordinary men.

One was named Liu Huanzhi, son of Liu Song—the Head Tutor of the Upper Study and Grand Secretary of the Tiren Pavilion. His father taught the princes, instructing the imperial brothers in their studies.

The other was He Yinde, son of He Zhen—the Leading Grand Minister of the Grand Council and concurrent Minister of Revenue and Personnel. His father stood second only to the emperor, wielding the greatest power in the court.

Lord Liu and Lord He were at odds in the imperial court. Liu Song had always upheld integrity and incorruptibility, while He Zhen secretly formed cliques for personal gain and amassed vast wealth through corruption. Liu Song had repeatedly impeached He Zhen before the Ganhuang Emperor, but the emperor turned a deaf ear, continuing to favor He Zhen and even considering Liu Song incompetent yet factional.

But setting aside the grudges between their fathers, how had these two sons ended up together?

Both were students at the Imperial Academy. Liu Huanzhi came from a scholarly family; his father bore the elegant nickname "Thick Ink," which influenced him to love poetry and calligraphy. At the Academy, he gathered a group of students and founded a poetry society called the "Autumn Moon Society," where talented youths composed verses and indulged in refined pursuits.

As for He Yinde... Liu Huanzhi hadn't wanted to include him at first. The kid had no literary talent and wrote characters like chicken scratch. If the world's literary spirit were measured in ten parts, He Yinde owed eight. His skill was abysmal. Just look at his poem:

Two big geese, white and bright, Flap their wings and take to flight. Ginger, cumin, pepper, salt— One pot can't cook them, it's no fault.

This was He Yinde's proudest masterpiece, "Big White Goose." He recited it to anyone who'd listen, brimming with pride.

The literati in the poetry society mocked him behind his back, but He Yinde was oblivious. He thought himself quite talented, his poetry excellent, and strutted around smugly.

So why did Liu Huanzhi allow such an illiterate into the poetry society and even play along?

The main reason was that the society needed funds for poetry gatherings and social events. Everyone's pockets were shallow; their monthly allowances from home were meager. Each poetry event cost money—half paid, half on credit. Over time, people mocked the Autumn Moon Society as a bunch of impoverished scholars.

Then Liu Huanzhi let He Yinde join. The chubby kid had money and was generous. He always volunteered: "Let's hold a poetry gathering tomorrow? I'll cover it. You all come." All so people would listen to his poem, that "Big White Goose."

He Yinde was rich. His father was the court's top corrupt official, controlling the Ministry of Revenue. The Great Jing's national treasury was practically his family's money pouch. The cost of monthly poetry gatherings was nothing to him; he could fund them every day.

For that reason, Liu Huanzhi took the illiterate He Yinde into the Autumn Moon Poetry Society.

So why were these two on Caishikou Street today?

Lately, the Imperial Academy students' social circles had been buzzing: a beautiful "Tofu Beauty" had appeared on Caishikou Street, drawing many talented scholars to vie for her attention. Even poets with some fame in the Hanlin Academy had been dueling in verse outside her tofu shop. Today, the Academy had a day off, so He Yinde dragged Liu Huanzhi along to see for themselves.

"Brother Huanzhi, if I recite my epoch-making masterpiece 'Big White Goose,' won't I sweep all those scholars aside? Do you think the Tofu Beauty will take a liking to me?"

Liu Huanzhi was speechless. This guy really had no self-awareness. Not getting laughed at would be a win.

"Brother Yinde, your poem is too... too refined. It's not suited for this marketplace. Give them a break. Let's just watch the fun today."

Liu Huanzhi feared He Yinde would embarrass himself. Reciting that poem in the society was fine—everyone humored their moneybag. But reciting it to outsiders? "Big White Goose"? The masterpiece of our Autumn Moon Society's top poet, He Yinde? That would be a disaster. The shame would be immense.

Following the students' directions, they found the tofu shop. But as luck would have it, the Tofu Beauty was unwell today and hadn't opened.

They'd made the trip for nothing. Having come all this way without even a glimpse of the Tofu Beauty, they dejectedly went to the nearby Qingcheng Teahouse for some tea and a rest, planning to head back. But then He Yinde's sharp eyes caught something, and he pointed at a corner:

"Brother Huanzhi, what is that?"

Liu Huanzhi turned to look. The corner was wet, as if someone had written a line with water: "Do you not see the Yellow River's waters come from heaven, rushing to the sea, never to return..."

"Ah! Splendid words! What a line!"

Liu Huanzhi clapped his hands in admiration and hurried over for a closer look. Though only two lines, the imagery was so wondrous and striking that reading them felt like encountering immortal verse.

Liu Huanzhi was stunned. What kind of genius had left such an earth-shattering, breathtakingly beautiful line here?!

"If only I could meet such a talent, see their brilliance in person," Liu Huanzhi marveled. He Yinde nodded beside him.

"Those lines are really good. Almost as good as my 'Big White Goose.'"

Liu Huanzhi ignored him. Have some shame. He leaned in for a closer look, the more he saw, the more he liked it.

"Such delicate small-standard script, firm and forceful. The lines are good, the calligraphy is good, but... but... why does it smell like urine?"

Just as Liu Huanzhi was both amazed and puzzled, He Yinde tugged at him and pointed into the distance: "Brother Huanzhi, could that genius be... that one?"

Not far from them, a big black dog was lifting its leg to pee against the corner. As it peed, it shook its leg, the wet stream splashing against the wall in neat strokes, actually forming characters: "Do you not see the bright mirrors in high halls grieving white hair, morning like black silk, evening turning to snow..."

It matched the immortal lines perfectly, equally wondrous and stunning, and most importantly, carried the same smell of urine...

A big black dog, peeing poetry.

What?! What divine miracle was this?!

Liu Huanzhi's eyes nearly popped out. What had he seen? A big black dog peeing out immortal verses?

Beside him, He Yinde scratched his head. This was a first for him too. He asked Liu Huanzhi:

"Brother Huanzhi, what do we do?"

"How about... inviting this dog brother to take a seat?"

"I swear, a little chill, and you act like it's a terminal illness. How delicate can you be? Are you really from the martial world?"

Inside the tofu shop, Lin Shou had decocted the medicine he'd bought and handed it to Ning Luowei, who was wrapped in thick quilts, sniffling.

Despite her dramatic bundling, as if she had some grave illness, Lin Shou had checked her—it was just a minor cold. She'd scared herself into thinking she was dying, crying her eyes out at his Corpse-Stitching Shop that morning.

"I've trained in martial arts since childhood at the Zhangjiajie dojo in the Xiang Region. It's spring all year round there. How could I be used to the Capital's sudden autumn chill? I've never caught such an illness..."

Ning Luowei's cold gave her a nasal voice, making her sound even more pitiful. Lin Shou ignored her, portioning out the remaining medicine into separate packets.

"Take one dose each morning and evening. You'll be fine in two days. I'm leaving."

"Can't you just keep me company for a bit..."

"No time."

Lin Shou left the Tofu Shop and was on his way back when he passed by Qingcheng Teahouse and saw a baffling sight—two people had bought a table full of fine wine and meat and were inviting the teahouse's big black dog up onto the table.

"Brother Dog, have some wine. Brother Dog, have some meat. Brother Dog, where do you work? Brother Dog, any interest in joining our Poetry Society..."