Red Mansion: Fuyao River and Mountain

Chapter 164: A New Chapter

Jia Cong smiled and said, "Your Highness, I was interrupted by Lord Ruan today, which has ruined my mood. It is a bit difficult to write seven or eight poems at once, but I can write one."

Ruan Hongcheng was so angry that he almost fainted. Who was interrupting whom just now?

Seeing that Jia Cong's words were merciless to Ruan Hongcheng, Prince Ning must have been very disgusted with his groundless provocation. He felt a little amused in his heart, but he still had some doubts about what Jia Cong said.

Although Jia Cong himself belittled "Man Jiang Hong" as a crude work, all those present were well-educated people and no one was blind.

The so-called crude work is just Jia Cong's pretentious statement. The song "Man Jiang Hong Jinling Huaigu" which is now sung in Jinling is indeed a rare masterpiece that can be handed down from generation to generation.

If one wants to write equally outstanding lyrics, talent, opportunity, and timing are all indispensable. How can one write them immediately if one wants to? Even if Jia Cong had great talent, he would never be able to do that.

Prince Ning and Jia Cong had a good relationship both in public and in private, and he was afraid that Jia Cong, due to his youthful vigor, might be provoked into writing lyrics. If what he wrote was far inferior to "Man Jiang Hong", he would lose face.

I am afraid that Ruan Hongcheng’s accusation of plagiarism will be believed by others. This will be a fatal blow to the reputation of a scholar, and the consequences will be unimaginable.

Those present, such as Prince Ning and Yang Hongbin, did not want Jia Cong to make a fool of himself in public and end up in disgrace because of this incident.

King Ning asked again: "Chengshilang, poetry is to express one's thoughts and feelings. There is no reason to write it casually. There is no need to force it."

What Prince Ning said was fair, and many people present agreed with him.

But there were also many people who remained silent and watched coldly. It has been normal for scholars to look down on each other since ancient times. Ruan Hongcheng's argument that young people cannot write gloomy and vigorous poems still touched the hearts of some people.

Scholars value reputation the most, but this song of talent that is sung all over the city was won by a young boy from another place, which makes people a little jealous.

As for the other people who are just watching from the sidelines, their thoughts are not that simple.

Almost everyone in the Jinling officialdom made money through foreign goods at the port, and most of the channels and information came from the Water Inspectorate.

Although these people had no direct connection with Zou Huaiyi's activities such as raising vagrants, killing people and looting ships.

But as soon as Zou Huaiyi died, the Water Inspectorate was immediately purged by the imperial court. Many of the original financial channels and information were cut off, causing heavy losses to those officials who made money from the foreign goods business.

Everyone in the Jinling officialdom knows that the Water Conservancy Bureau is no longer what it used to be because Jia Cong led his troops to the city and forced Zou Huaiyi, a captain of the Water Conservancy Bureau, to death.

After all, their financial resources were cut off, and the blame could almost all be put on Jia Cong, so naturally they didn't want to see this kid being proud.

Jia Cong smiled and replied: "Thank you for your understanding, Your Highness. However, everyone present has heard what Mr. Ruan said just now, which implicitly implied plagiarism.

If I don’t write new words in front of everyone, I’m afraid I’ll be stigmatized in the future.”

At this moment, some officials who were eager to get involved and were not afraid of trouble volunteered to bring pens, ink, paper and inkstone. As to whether they wanted to see Chengshilang's masterpiece or to see him make a fool of himself, only God knew.

Jia Cong did not hesitate to take out his brush, looked out the window at the clear blue sky and the vast river and sky, and wrote freely:

Linjiangxian

In the twelfth year of Jiazhao, I climbed the Zhujiang Tower in Nanjing and was fortunate to receive a farewell banquet from Prince Ning. Looking north at the palace of heaven, the river waves were like snow, and the clouds were hanging in the sky. I paid tribute to the ancestors and would like to express my humble thoughts in a short quote.

Many officials present knew that this official was an outstanding calligrapher and was famous in the capital. It was for this reason that the emperor specially ordered him to transcribe scriptures for the Da Ci'en Temple.

However, Jia Cong's calligraphy has not been widely circulated in recent years, and most of the people present have never seen it. Now, seeing him write a few strokes, with ink dripping, a sense of artistic conception and brushwork permeates the paper.

This is the momentum that can only appear when calligraphy reaches an extremely high level and the skill is almost close to the Tao. This calligraphy alone has reached the level of a master.

Regardless of whether this young man can write another poem that can rival the one in "Man Jiang Hong", his skill in calligraphy alone is enough to prove that his fame is well-deserved.

After Jia Cong finished writing the prologue of the ci tune, he changed his style and began to write the first sentence of the main text:
the river is long and tempestuous, it was like a hero!
The onlookers were first amazed by Jia Cong's calligraphy. When they saw the first line of the poem was written, although the words were simple, they already revealed its profound meaning.

As soon as I finished writing the second sentence, I felt a sudden and surprising change. This sentence, using the metaphor of a hero like waves, leisurely gave rise to a generous spirit that penetrated time, stepped through hundreds of generations, and witnessed all the ups and downs.

The magnanimity and pattern revealed in these first two lines alone are even better than the "Man Jiang Hong" written by Jia Cong. Just now, Jia Cong said that his "Man Jiang Hong" was a playful work, and he could write seven or eight such poems at will, and everyone thought it was extremely arrogant.

Now many people have a strange feeling in their hearts, as if the young man is not talking nonsense, but how is this possible!

The people in the room saw that Jia Cong did not think about it, as if he had already had a draft in mind. He was completely focused on writing, and he wrote with a quick pen and effortless strokes. In a short while, he had finished the whole poem.

The eyes of the onlookers were all focused on the newly written poem.

The one who finished reading first had an expression of shock and admiration on his face, a look of distant regret in his eyes, and he shook his head and muttered to himself, as if he was immersed in the poetic world and couldn't extricate himself.

Those who were behind and had not had time to see it yet, saw the people in front of them talking and looking agitated, and the scene was a bit scary, so they wanted to squeeze in to take a look.

When Prince Ning saw that Jia Cong had finished writing in one go, he knew that he had not done it in a hurry but must have planned it for a long time before.

He knew that Jia Cong was a man of great talent and intelligence. Although he had just spoken wildly, it turned out that he had already made a plan in mind. How could he suffer at the hands of Ruan Hongcheng, a corrupt and incompetent official? He felt relieved.

He picked up the piece of rice paper with wet ink, spread it out with both hands and read:

the river is long and tempestuous, it was like a hero.

Success or failure turned empty.

Aoyama is still there, How Many Suns.

The white-haired fisherman Qiao Jiangzhu used to watch autumn and spring.

A jug of muddy wine meets together.

Many things from ancient to modern times are all being discussed with laughter.

After Prince Ning finished reading this Linjiangxian, everyone in the room fell silent. It seemed that they were all shocked by the generosity and desolation in the poem, and they were immersed in it and could not calm down.

Climbing the tower and overlooking the river, one can recall the ancient sages and experience the past and present. The atmosphere is grand, and the words and the scene are integrated so beautifully.

He said with a smile: "This Linjiangxian is generous and tragic, heroic and unrestrained, with a sense of rise and fall, a sigh of ups and downs, and a sense of mountains and rivers. In my humble opinion, I think it is even better than Manjianghong.

I wonder if anyone would still think that Chengshilang is young and ignorant and cannot write vigorous and melancholy tunes. "

Everyone was somewhat relieved at this moment that no one had agreed with Ruan Hongcheng's words just now, otherwise they would have been so embarrassed.

Although what Ruan Hongcheng said just now made sense, it was only useful for ordinary people. When encountering a monster like Jia Cong, he would only expose his own shortcomings and bring humiliation upon himself.

At this time, everyone looked at Ruan Hongcheng with interest, but saw that his face was full of embarrassment. He couldn't sit or stand, and he wished he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.

Because his relatives died in the Water Inspectorate incident, he, as a civil servant, did not dare to do anything to Jia Cong, but the resentment in his heart was difficult to quell.

At the banquet just now, he wanted to insult Jia Cong with his words, but he didn't expect that he would make the matter worse, and instead Jia Cong mocked him harshly in class.

Now this kid has such extraordinary talent that he wrote a new poem in Xuyi that is even better than the previous one, making himself a clown in vain and helping others to get married.

Fortunately, Jia Cong seemed to have forgotten his existence, otherwise if he had come up with his newly written lyrics and made a few more sarcastic remarks, Ruan Hongcheng would have been so embarrassed that he would have hit his head against the wall and committed suicide.

At this moment, no one noticed that Cui Jingli, who had been concentrating on drinking, raised his head and looked at Jia Cong in the crowd, and a cold light flashed in his drunken eyes.

King Ning laughed again and said, "Now that Cheng Shilang has these two wonderful poems, even if he never writes poems again in this life, he can still occupy a place in the poetry world of the Great Zhou Dynasty."

"Everyone, today at the Zhujiang Tower banquet, the attendant took the opportunity to write this Linjiangxian. Such a brilliant chapter and such an anecdote will surely spread across the world and be recorded in history. The little king is very lucky, and so are you all."

(End of this chapter)