Half a Regulated Verse Stuns the Great Scholars

"Xu Cijiu, my student, is well versed in military strategy and has considerable potential," Zhang Shen, the master strategist, introduced him. He was someone who could not write poetry.

He kept that last remark to himself.

Master Zhang was rather puzzled. You couldn't write poetry, so why were you sticking your head out?

Zhu Tuizhi, who had thought the purple jade was already in his grasp, grew wary at the voice. When he saw it was Xu Xinnian, he thought nothing of it.

He merely glanced at him.

Having been classmates for years, they might not have known everything about one another, but they knew each other's strengths and weaknesses.

Xu Xinnian excelled at policy essays and was accomplished in military strategy, but his poetry could hardly grace an elegant hall.

The jade pendant is still mine.

The students' eyes settled on Xu Xinnian. Enjoying their attention, he wore an expression that held everyone beneath his notice and gazed at the sun hanging languidly in the sky.

"Yellow clouds stretch a thousand miles; the pale sun dims."

Li Mubai, the master player, nodded and stroked his beard. This line merely described the scenery, but a breadth of spirit leaped from the page.

"The north wind drives the geese through swirling snow."

Winter had just begun. The snow had not yet come, but it was not far off, so this line was no exaggeration.

Dusk descended, heavy snow swirled, and amid the howling north wind, a lone goose appeared in the distant sky. The scene sprang instantly to life.

These two lines set the scene beautifully and suited this farewell perfectly.

Zhang Shen was extremely surprised. He scrutinized Xu Xinnian. Given his student's skill in poetry, these two seven-character lines must have been the fruit of painstaking effort. If he could maintain this standard, he might well contend with Zhu Tuizhi.

Among the three highly esteemed Great Confucians, Layman Ziyang was the most accomplished poet. As he savored the two lines, an inexplicable melancholy stirred in him.

A thousand miles, dusk, the north wind, a lone goose, swirling snow. They sketched a bleak, desolate scene.

It sounded as though he was being banished rather than taking office.

And yet, it truly captured the essence of his situation.

His appointment seemed to show that the court valued him and was granting him authority. But would those factions from the Directorate of Education stand by and watch him rise effortlessly into the clouds?

Would they let him establish a foothold for White Deer Academy in officialdom?

His journey to Qingzhou was, in truth, one of uncertain prospects and an indistinct road ahead.

Suddenly, Xu Xinnian spread his arms. In the warm sunlight, his handsome face looked as flawless and exquisite as fine jade.

He swept his arms up, looked straight at Layman Ziyang, and delivered the final two lines with ringing force.

"Fear not that the road ahead holds no kindred soul."

"Who beneath heaven does not know your name?"

Inside and outside the pavilion, silence fell instantly.

A moment later, goosebumps rose all over everyone present.

Zhu Tuizhi slowly, stiffly turned his head and stared blankly at Xu Xinnian, who stood there proudly.

"Fear not that the road ahead holds no kindred soul. Who beneath heaven does not know your name?" Li Mubai clapped his hands in excitement. "Superb!"

The first two lines evoked a bleak, sorrowful scene, while the final two rounded the mountain into a new vista, opening the heart and lifting the spirits.

Zhang Shen gazed gravely at Xu Xinnian and fell silent.

Layman Ziyang, who loved poetry, was still immersed in the mood of this seven-character quatrain, his heart and spirit swaying.

"A fine poem, a truly fine poem," he murmured.

"Why is there only half?" Seeing that his student had stopped reciting, the master strategist Zhang Shen could not help asking.

The corner of Xu Xinnian's mouth twitched. "There is only half of this poem."

Only half?!

The scholars present immediately widened their eyes, unable to accept this. Who wrote only half a poem? Was that even human?

"No matter, no matter. Even half is a work of heavenly genius." Layman Ziyang composed himself, his smile deepening. "Xu Cijiu, does this poem have a title?"

"No!"

Xu Xinnian maintained his haughty air. He truly did not know how to explain it. Only by remaining aloof could he stop them from questioning him further.

"No hurry, no hurry." Layman Ziyang's smile only broadened. "This poem was composed to see me off, correct?"

Xu Xinnian nodded.

"Why not let this old man think of one for you?"

Li Mubai, the master player, and Zhang Shen, the master strategist, suddenly understood his intention. They felt as though they had bitten into lemons.

"How about 'Seeing Yang Gong Off to Qingzhou at Sheep Pavilion'?" Anticipation shone in the eyes of the eminent Great Confucian.

"Acceptable!" Xu Xinnian instinctively gave a haughty reply, then realized his attitude lacked respect and added, "I leave it entirely to you, sir."

"Shameless old scoundrel."

"Hmph!"

The two Great Confucians grew even more sour.

"Such is good fortune." Layman Ziyang laughed heartily and smugly bowed with clasped hands to his two friends.

In this age of poetry's decline, once this poem spread, it would surely cause a sensation among scholars and be recited by students throughout the land.

Layman Ziyang's reputation would rise with the tide. More importantly, his maneuver had effectively bound his name to this poem.

If this poem became a work passed down through the ages, Layman Ziyang's name would likewise endure for a thousand years.

A masterpiece of this caliber stood an excellent chance of being passed down.

To the two Great Confucians, the most shameless part was that Xu Xinnian was presenting a poem to an elder as a student. The title should not contain the elder's personal name; it should use his courtesy name or sobriquet. Only peers or close friends could put his personal name into a poem.

Clearly, this scoundrel had discarded all shame in pursuit of fame.

What was a scholar's greatest dream? To cultivate himself, govern the country, and bring peace beneath heaven? No, that was an ideal, not a dream.

For thousands of years, scholars had had only one greatest dream: to leave their names in the annals of history!

The two Great Confucians were so jealous that their cell membranes were about to separate from their cell walls.

As his teacher, Zhang Shen realized that this poem might not be his student's own work, but he did not expose him. Winning Layman Ziyang's favor was his student's good fortune. As his teacher, he was happy for him too.

Amid the students' excited discussion, Xu Xinnian coughed and told the truth. "Teacher, gentlemen, this poem was not my work. Someone else composed it."

The discussion stopped at once.

The three Great Confucians reacted differently. Understanding dawned on Zhang Shen's face, as though this was just as he had expected.

Li Mubai seemed startled and quite surprised.

Layman Ziyang reacted most strongly. He strode forward two steps and urgently asked, "Who? Is he a student of our academy? Is he here?"

His gaze swept past Xu Xinnian and searched among the students.

"My elder brother!" Xu Xinnian lifted his chin slightly, maintaining his haughty bearing.

The students, who had fallen silent, began discussing it again.

"Xu Cijiu's elder brother?"

"Where does he study? Why have I never heard of him?"

"Uh, if I remember correctly, isn't Xu Cijiu the eldest son?"

"Cijiu, what is your brother's full name, and who is his teacher? Oh, come on, tell us! To think we knew nothing of such poetic talent!"

The students were beside themselves with impatience.

The three Great Confucians were also looking at Xu Xinnian.

This is bad. My boorish father has rubbed off on me. I shouldn't have mentioned my boorish elder brother. Looking at the students' burning gazes, Xu Xinnian suddenly realized he had made a mistake.

All pursuits were lowly; only learning stood high. That alone showed how proud scholars were, and Xu Xinnian was no exception.

The scholars of Cloud Deer Academy were prouder still.

If Xu Qi'an were also a scholar, they would admire and look up to him. If everyone learned that he was merely a bailiff, however, resentment would arise.

If even a lowly bailiff could write a peerless seven-character regulated verse, where would that leave their dignity?

Xu Xinnian forced himself to continue. "My elder brother... studies the classics diligently at home. He attends neither Cloud Deer Academy nor the Directorate of Education. He... he is reserved and uncontentious by nature. He seeks neither fame nor merit, wishing only to delve into the classics until his hair turns white."

Such integrity! He was truly a model for them all, worthy of reverence. The students of White Deer Academy were astonished and felt a desire to befriend him.

There was no surprise over first place. The purple jade went to Xu Xinnian. Layman Ziyang, his face glowing, bid everyone farewell, feeling his thoughts flow freely. As he boarded his luxurious carriage, he left them with a pointed remark.

"Such great talent must not remain a pearl buried in dust. Chunjing, Jinyan, what do you think?"

Whether the two Great Confucians truly failed to understand or merely pretended not to, they saw Layman Ziyang off without a word. Once the carriage had gone far away, Li Mubai suddenly seized Xu Xinnian's hand and drew him aside. "Cijiu, this old man has suddenly felt the desire to take a disciple. Since I happen to have nothing to do today, take me to meet your elder brother."

Zhang Shen paled in alarm and spoke up. "Cijiu, if you and your elder brother both studied under me, that too could become a fine tale."

Whether he wrote poetry was unimportant. The main thing was not to let such talent go to waste.

If, someday, inspiration happened to yield a poem that would endure through the ages, something like "My Teacher Zhang Shen," that would be excellent too.

Li Mubai said unhappily, "Military strategy is not the mainstream. A scholar must first study the meaning of the classics, master policy essays, cultivate himself, and put his household in order."

"Ha, and the way of chess is the mainstream? Besides, you're a sore loser who hasn't won a single game against Wei Yuan," Zhang Shen snorted.

"Old scoundrel, shut your mouth! Don't mention Wei Yuan in front of me. This old man has always cherished talent, and I am taking this student!"

"Old fool, is that cherishing talent? You're lusting after his poetic gifts."

"Shameless old scoundrel! Watch me shake you to death with a mouthful of Vast Righteous Qi."

"As though I don't have any myself."

Xu Xinnian's scalp prickled.

The students in the distance paled in alarm. They had no idea what had happened, but the two Great Confucians had begun arguing, red in the face, and even seemed on the verge of coming to blows.