Three Wives and Four Concubines in the Dream of the Red Chamber

Page 18

Suddenly, a commotion came from the side stairwell, where several spoiled young men were shouting loudly.

Gu Yu frowned but didn't say anything. She decided to finish her tea and go back, wondering what to do about the literary gathering later...

Gu Yu was not opposed to being a plagiarist; in fact, he was happy to let the original masterpieces shine brightly in the world once again.

In his previous life, when he read novels, he hated those who became famous by plagiarism and were proud of it while belittling others. He also did not want to become that kind of person one day. So he just studied the classics and learned various strategies.

In any case, he didn't really have much talent for poetry, and he wasn't willing to be proud of it.

Lost in thought, Gu Yu didn't notice the sudden silence in the air. A slightly infatuated face turned towards him; he was quite handsome, but his lecherous expression completely ruined his good looks.

Gu Yu was stunned and hadn't reacted yet when the person gently lifted his chin and examined him from left to right, as if admiring a priceless treasure.

"Holy shit!" Gu Yu was jolted awake, a chill mixed with anger spreading through his body. Without thinking, he threw a straight punch, cracking two ribs off his body.

"Ouch!" The man fell to the ground and screamed in pain. Gu Yu saw that his friends had all gathered around and were about to call for help, so he quickly slipped away.

"You scoundrel! If you have the guts, leave your name!"

Gu Yu almost twisted her ankle from laughing at this group of idiots, and couldn't help but burst into laughter, shouting without turning her head:

"I, Li Feiyu of Ganzhou, am a man of unchanging name and surname!"

"You just wait! ...Are you alright, Brother Xue? We'll carry you to find a doctor right away!"

……

Ignoring the farce behind her, Gu Yu hurried away and went up to the second floor through the back door.

When it was time to eat, most of the people who were supposed to come had already arrived. As the top scholar of the Imperial Academy and the top scholar in the capital's provincial examination, Kong Chengli had an unshirkable duty to preside over the literary gathering.

Li Wensong ranked seventh in the Imperial Academy and eighth in the provincial examination in the capital. Because he "didn't do well" and felt ashamed to face his fellow villagers, he comfortably showed his face briefly and then hid away to slack off.

Seeing that Gu Yu had finally returned, Li Wensong hurriedly waved for him to come over, which attracted a lot of attention.

Those who could attend the Qi Nian Literary Gathering were basically people who had passed the imperial examinations in various places, or even more renowned officials, scholars, and Confucian scholars from the previous imperial examinations. In other words, the local newly appointed candidates who attended were basically students of the Imperial Academy and its inner quarters.

They had naturally heard some rumors that the handsome, unknown young man seemed to have an unusual relationship with Li Wensong and Kong Chengli.

They were happy to believe these rumors, after all, seeing Gu Yu's appearance, they also felt...

There was another person present who watched with a complicated expression as Gu Yu sat down next to Li Wensong, swallowed the bitter wine... He gripped the wine glass tightly, and finally his face became ferocious.

"I will definitely...!"

Li Wensong breathed a sigh of relief, glared at him, and said in a low voice, "You scared me to death, kid. Chengli just went up to ask for the questions and is still chatting there waiting for you to come back."

Gu Yu smiled apologetically. The fracture he had just suffered from inflicted on a male genital mutilation injury had put him in a much better mood, so he didn't dwell on it and asked, "Who will be the main judge today?"

“His grandfather…” Li Wensong said in a strange tone.

"Oh... um?!" Gu Yu didn't react at first. Kong Chengli's grandfather... the current Duke Yansheng...?! He was taken aback, but seeing that Li Wensong's expression didn't seem fake and that he was staring at him with a sour look, he realized what was going on.

Looking up at Kong Chengli on the platform, he happened to be looking over as well. The two understood each other's gazes and remained silent.

Kong Chengli was utterly numb. Even his own grandson, a top scholar in the provincial examinations, couldn't get him to come, but Gu Yu could, while he himself had become just a byproduct. He wanted to ask the heavens in utter speechlessness, "Who is his true grandson?"

...

"...The Qi Nian Literary Gathering is hereby convened!"

"Please, Princess Leshu, draw lots to determine this year's theme!"

A moment later, a maid brought down the slip of paper from the third floor and handed it to Kong Chengli. Kong Chengli thanked her, turned it over, and a trace of worry flashed in his eyes.

With an expressionless face, he shouted loudly, "The theme of this year's Qinian Literary Gathering is—Poetry! Any genre is acceptable!"

Yingkexuan has a U-shaped structure, with a high platform in the middle where storytellers and others perform. It is very close to the first and second floors, while the third and fourth floors are further away, highlighting its elegance.

Kong Chengli is now standing on the high platform, holding up a bamboo stick and looking around to indicate that the stick in his hand is genuine.

He felt a pang of worry. He and Li Wensong had only heard one or two of Gu Yu’s songs when he was young. Although they were quite good, they were not enough to hold their own in today’s world of talented people.

Compared to Gu Yu's strategic essays and classical texts, poetry was definitely his weakness. Thinking about today's purpose, Kong Chengli almost wanted to quit!

Upon hearing that it was poetry, the crowd became even more aggressive, and the scene became increasingly lively.

Compared to essays and other categories, poetry is more suited to the atmosphere of a literary gathering. At a banquet, with food and drink, people are naturally more relaxed, and asking them to write an essay at that time would be somewhat of a downer.

Poetry undoubtedly adds to the festivities in such occasions. If one were to suddenly come up with a brilliant line, it might even be enough to make one's name known throughout history. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

At this moment, another note was passed down from upstairs. Kong Chengli took a look, signaled everyone to be quiet, and announced the first poem.

"As the year draws to a close, and snow has been falling for days, I'm sure you've all gained something from appreciating this snowy scenery. So, the first poem is titled 'Snow'."

This is a common practice in poetry over the years, mostly about snow and plum blossoms. Everyone was prepared, and upon hearing this, they organized their thoughts, determined to make a name for themselves here!

What if I catch the eye of the big shot upstairs and rise to prominence from then on? Wouldn't that be fast-forwarding to the pinnacle of life?

Servants had already prepared a small table next to everyone, filled with the finest writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, leaving no room for criticism and further enhancing one's impression of the Yingkexuan.

The process usually involves the top scholars from the fifteen prefectures and the Imperial Academy selecting five more people based on their rankings, for a total of twenty people voting.

Those who receive twelve or more votes may be included in the annual literary gathering's poems, which will be published and sold, bringing both fame and fortune. If more than thirty poems are received, the best will be selected.

Those who came to participate in the literary gathering were at least successful candidates in the imperial examinations, and at least ranked in the middle to upper range of their respective prefectures, and were quite well-known in their local villages.

The slightly less desirable seats don't even have seats on the first floor, since there are still some seats available for customers who have plenty of money but can't afford to book a private room.

Seeing everyone start writing furiously, the twenty talented people sitting on the platform also began to write, and Li Wensong also copied his own draft onto paper.

Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, he noticed that Gu Yu beside him hadn't written a single word. His heart sank, and he whispered:

"Did you... I... How about you take this one and I'll write another one?"

Gu Yu was both touched and speechless. She shook her head and said, "Is your piece going to win first place or what? If it gets discovered, it will ruin your reputation. I have my own pieces, I just didn't think of which one to write."

"..." This was the first time Li Wensong had heard such pretentious words. He hesitated, unable to think of anything else to say.

I can only hope that this guy is telling the truth, otherwise he'll be facing the first thing he'll do when he gets back: "Fatherly love is as solid as a mountain."

……

Chapter Thirty: Darkened Gay Men

Regardless of Li Wensong's worried expression, Gu Yu considered for a moment and then wrote down her thoughts.

Li Wensong couldn't help but glance at it, and was stunned when he saw only the word "absolute".

That word pierced his eyes like a sharp sword, possessing the power to cut through iron and metal. It seemed somewhat similar to the words of Zhu Suiliang of the Former Tang Dynasty, but upon closer inspection, they were quite different, forming its own distinct style.

Li Wensong was still lost in the memory of that fleeting glimpse and remained silent, while the assembled scholars below had already begun their selection process from the attendees on the first floor.

"...Glistening jade leaves fall from jade branches...Only this line stands out. What do you all think?"

"..."

"Hmm? The biting wind and merciless snow, all things desolate and frozen in one breath—this line does have a certain charm, making it a fine piece of writing. I think it passes..."

"..."

The selection process proceeded smoothly, with everyone eating, drinking, and chatting with their friends, speculating about who would win first place.

In less than half an hour, the hundred attendees on the first floor had finished their selection, and more than ten entries received more than twelve votes.

As the judging of the poems on the second floor began, the previously relaxed group on the second floor unconsciously became tense.

They need to be ranked higher than the people on the first floor to sit here. If their grades are too poor, wouldn't they become infamous?

Only Gu Yu was still eating and drinking calmly, and Li Wensong, who was stunned, was not nervous at all.

Seeing that Li Wensong was practically having a fit of hysteria, Gu Yu wrote the character "永" (yong, meaning eternal) on a piece of paper and pushed it in front of Li Wensong's desk to keep him from daydreaming.

Sure enough, the quality of the poems on the second floor was much better than that on the first floor, and the twenty judges argued even more fiercely, which attracted everyone's attention.

"Alas, it's unbelievable that Brother Xie from Suzhou, who wrote such a good piece, only received eleven votes."

"Oh no, looks like I won't even get five votes..."

"..."

"Lin Zhonghua from Huizhou actually got fifteen votes! I heard he's the Huizhou runner-up, he truly lives up to his reputation!"

As they talked, many people naturally glanced at Gu Yu. Not only was there the famous and talented Li Wensong, but Gu Yu's face was also quite eye-catching.

Gu Yu pretended not to see it, but after hearing Li Wensong's name, she still perked up to see how many votes he could get.

"Flying blossoms drift like jade petals, falling snow reflects the cold sky, not bad, not bad."

"Otherwise, I think the poem is rather empty and lacks substance, falling short of Li Wensong's usual level of talent. I won't give it a vote."

"This……"

The final vote count was seventeen.

Li Wensong was already well-known at the Imperial College for his elegant and unrestrained style and his poetic talent; the seventeenth vote was just right in a special position.

Compared to the Imperial Academy, the top scorers in each prefecture could easily rank in the top five, while the weakest might not even make it into the top twenty of the Imperial Academy. Li Wensong had always been a strong contender for the top three, so his poor performance in this provincial examination, falling out of the top five, was quite surprising.

The judging was almost over, with only twenty top scholars remaining on the stage.

Seeing Kong Chengli bow his head and remain silent, and having received no response after several attempts to look at him, Wang Shouyi, the second-ranking official in Kyoto, could only curse under his breath and take over the conversation, instructing his servants to collect the papers on the table and evaluate them one by one.

The atmosphere was initially quite intense, with everyone praising and deferring to each other. However, as poems and essays were passed to Kong Chengli's desk awaiting his final vote, the scene gradually quieted down, and people began to scrutinize each other.

Seeing the atmosphere gradually becoming strange, Wang Shouyi became so anxious that a bead of cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

As one of the co-organizers, he knew exactly how lively this literary gathering would be. People in the private rooms upstairs were keeping an eye on what was happening here. Unexpectedly, the usually composed Kong Chengli messed up at the crucial moment.

Seeing that Kong Chengli remained silent with his head down, Wang Shouyi had no choice but to step forward.

"Ahem... Brother Chengli, why have you been so slow to comment?"

Seeing that Kong Chengli still hadn't responded, he could only raise his voice and ask again. This time, Kong Chengli finally came to his senses.

Looking at the gazes of those around him, he quickly realized what was going on and, remembering his purpose for tonight, let out a loud laugh and turned over the stack of poems on the table.

Before anyone could react, Kong Chengli gestured to the only poem on the table and began to speak.

"While your works are certainly exquisite, in my opinion, this remarkable piece is undoubtedly the best, and I invite you all to appreciate it!"

The people on stage didn't look too good. Even though you, Kong Chengli, are indeed capable, you can't just speak nonsense without even glancing at what they wrote.

Everyone secretly resolved that if the words on the table were written by Kong Chengli, they would find a reason to criticize him.

Wang Shouyi was closest to him and was afraid that such words would make the atmosphere too awkward, so he smoothed things over and got up to appreciate the wonderful article that Kong Chengli was talking about.

After reading only the beginning, Wang Shouyi was stunned and stared at the words without moving. Soon, this strange behavior attracted the attention of everyone. Several students from the Imperial Academy, who were usually on good terms, naturally volunteered to step forward.

As more and more people gathered, those who saw some of the crowd were unwilling to leave, so they could only crane their necks to peer inside.

"Til your head down so I can see..."

"Stop pushing! Stop pushing! The table is going to collapse!"

The remaining top scholars who hadn't yet set off initially thought that these people from the Imperial Academy were promoting that so-called "extraordinary article," but they didn't expect that they would disregard even the demeanor of scholars, and their curiosity was also aroused.

Having regained his senses, Kong Chengli knew when to stop. He quickly snatched the poem away, and before anyone could glare at him, he gestured to those around him.

When everyone saw that people from both floors were watching the commotion, they realized what was happening and could only reluctantly return to their original positions.

Kong Chengli then took out another piece of paper, copied Gu Yu's poem, and asked everyone to score it.

Previously, most people were only focused on reading the words and hadn't carefully appreciated the poem itself. Now, after reading it, they fell silent again.

The person who received the ballot didn't say a word, stared at it for a while, cast their vote, and then passed it on to the next person, while sitting in their seat deep in thought.

However, it was passed back to Kong Chengli in a short while, and Kong Chengli took the opportunity to take the opportunity to judge the poems of the crowd.

After the meeting, looking at the paper returned with its dense circled pages, Kong Chengli smiled smugly and asked, "Do any of you have any objections to this poem being the best?"

A moment of silence fell over the room. They knew their own situation and were all prominent figures, so naturally they wouldn't make a scene and claim that they were just as good.

The people below watched the spectacle for a long time, but seeing that everyone was posing a riddle, they couldn't help but get anxious.

"What exactly did you write? Tell us now!"

"Who got the good start? I've been looking for ages and I still don't understand. Could it be Kong Chengli?"

"They've all become mute, could there be some inside story..."

"..."

Kong Chengli let the atmosphere build up for a moment before standing up to signal for quiet and speaking loudly:

"The winner of the first snow poem competition is Gu Yu, a student from the Imperial Academy!"