Chapter 6: Zhongli You

Jiang Zhensheng arrived at the residence of Grand Scholar Zhongli, a courtyard filled with green bamboo on the east side of the Cuiyun Pavilion. This Grand Scholar bore the compound surname Zhongli and the given name "You." As one of the seven great scholars of the Great Yu Dynasty and the former head of the Bailu Academy, his reputation was known throughout the land.

"Grand Scholar Zhongli, your grace remains as it was in the past; your student is full of admiration." Having received guidance from Zhongli You when he traveled to the capital for the imperial examinations, it was fitting for Jiang Zhensheng to address himself as a student.

Zhongli You, dressed in a simple cyan robe and appearing somewhat lean, looked very much like a humble schoolmaster.

"Sit! It has been many years, and now you have become the head of the Anxiang Academy," Zhongli You said with a smile.

"Alas, I am ashamed. I sat for the imperial examinations for many years but never attained the rank of Jinshi, and can only serve as a mere master at the Yunyang County Academy," Jiang Zhensheng replied, shaking his head with a tone of deep melancholy.

"I have read your essays. With your level of scholarship, you possess the talent of a Jinshi. Your failure to pass can only be attributed to the times and fate," Zhongli You sighed softly.

Upon hearing this, Jiang Zhensheng felt a surge of excitement. To have his scholarship recognized by the Grand Scholar, and to receive such an assessment from him, reignited his desire to sit for the imperial examinations again. Perhaps, he thought, he might finally pass this time.

After some pleasantries, Zhongli You remarked, "When I arrived in Yunyang County, I heard a masterpiece that brought me great joy."

This piqued Jiang Zhensheng's curiosity. What kind of work could earn such praise from the Grand Scholar?

"I wonder, what is this masterpiece?"

Zhongli You stroked his beard and smiled. "It is a poem titled 'Longing,' written during that literary gathering at Cuiyun Pavilion." He began to recite: "'Longing, in Luoyang. The cricket chirps in the autumn night by the golden well railing...'"

Jiang Zhensheng was moved to his core, his eyes sparkling. "A fine poem! Truly excellent! So many poems have been written on the theme of longing, yet none compare to this one!"

Zhongli You nodded. "Indeed. Though this poem speaks of longing, it transcends all previous works of its kind. Its tone is desolate and lonely, truly stirring the soul. It will certainly be included in this year's 'Great Yu Anthology,' likely in the top three. More than that, I believe this poem will be remembered for generations."

Jiang Zhensheng was stunned. He had never expected such high praise. The "Great Yu Anthology," edited by several grand scholars, carried immense prestige. His lifelong ambition, beyond becoming a Jinshi, was to have a poem featured in that collection. Yet, Zhongli You claimed this one deserved a top-three spot and would stand the test of time. How extraordinary must a poem be to achieve such immortality?

"May I ask which talented scholar wrote this?" Jiang Zhensheng asked, his curiosity piqued. He knew that the gathering at Cuiyun Pavilion had been hosted by a prominent figure in the capital and was attended by youths between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five. He mentally combed through all the known scholars in Yunyang County, but none came to mind. If only it had been a student from his own Anxiang Academy; as the academy head, he could share in the glory.

Zhongli You shook his head. "I do not know who wrote it. I only heard it was composed spontaneously by an eighteen or nineteen-year-old youth."

Jiang Zhensheng gasped. A youth of eighteen or nineteen had composed this on the spot? He had spent his entire life writing poetry without ever earning a place in the "Great Yu Anthology," yet this boy had done so with a casual effort. It was truly a case of "comparing people only leads to frustration."

"What a young talent!" Jiang Zhensheng lamented. "I wonder whose son he is. If only I had such a son, I wouldn't be so..."

"Oh? How so?"

Jiang Zhensheng sighed deeply. Having kept these grievances locked away for so long, he poured his heart out to the Grand Scholar. "Grand Scholar, you may not know, but I have two sons. My eldest, Jiang Feng, dislikes literature and only cares for martial arts—though he has gained some skill, he may yet serve the country. But my second son, Jiang Han, is an incredibly stubborn and wayward child!"

His voice filled with anger as he continued, "That boy is so dim-witted he couldn't even pass the Tongshi exam. When he tried martial arts, he injured the instructor with a single arrow. When he turned to business, he squandered everything within three years! And now... his engagement to the Gu family has been broken! He has become the laughingstock of Yunyang County! My face has been completely lost because of this wastrel!"

Zhongli You frowned. Could such a foolish person truly exist? As the head of Anxiang Academy, Jiang Zhensheng had produced many scholars, so it was understandable he would be disappointed that his own son couldn't even pass the most basic examination.

"Alas! I came today to seek your guidance on my writing, yet I have only burdened you with my complaints," Jiang Zhensheng said.

"It is no matter," replied Zhongli You. "I understand your feelings; to have a wayward son naturally brings disappointment." He paused, then added, "I will be here for some time yet. If you trust me, bring your second son to me, and I shall instruct him personally."

Jiang Zhensheng rose in gratitude. "I appreciate your kindness, Grand Scholar, but that rebellious boy is so headstrong and obsessed with business that I fear he would only offend you if brought here."

Just then, a servant approached. "Grand Scholar, Princess Youwei has arrived."

Jiang Zhensheng looked at Zhongli You in surprise. Princess Youwei? Was she the one who hosted the gathering at Cuiyun Pavilion? As a daughter of the Empress, it was no wonder the Grand Scholar had attended.

"I shall take my leave," Jiang Zhensheng said, rising to depart.

After he left, Qin Yunmian stepped into the courtyard, her skirts fluttering. With a cold, detached air, she said, "Grand Scholar, I have found out who that person is."

"Oh? And who is he?" Zhongli You asked, his curiosity piqued. If this talented youth had no master, he might consider taking him on as a disciple.

"His name is Jiang Han," Qin Yunmian said softly.

Zhongli You froze. The name sounded familiar. Upon reflection, he realized it was the same "wayward son" Jiang Zhensheng had just described. Could it be a coincidence of names?

"Which Jiang Han?"

"The second son of the head of Anxiang Academy," she replied.

She noticed the expression on Zhongli You's face had turned utterly bizarre.

"Are you certain?" Zhongli You asked in disbelief. Jiang Zhensheng had just called his son a fool, yet the author of that brilliant poem was the same person. How could this be?