Chapter 1: Winter in Jinling Chapter 45: Zhao Shouzheng, a poet of the Kuyin School
Although Fan Datong paid for his place in the imperial court, he was in prison for ten years, and he actually wrote such a poem. He is really an idiot...
"Excuse me." This guy is so shameless that he can actually laugh.
"You should stop now!" Zhao Shouzheng finally couldn't stand it anymore, and suddenly stood up to support Fan Datong, saying: "My brother can't write poems, can you do it well? In the 200 years of Ming poetry, is there a single poem that can compare with the Tang and Song dynasties? It's just like the pot calling the kettle black!"
The place was completely silent, and even the poet monk Xuelang showed an embarrassed expression. Although Zhao Shouzheng's words were exaggerated, for example, Yang Shen's "Linjiangxian" was as beautiful as Song Dynasty poems, but after all, such masterpieces were rare. Compared with the Tang, Song and even Yuan dynasties, the Ming Dynasty poetry scene was indeed mediocre...
Mr. Zhao Erye also has a temper of a young master. He should have just targeted the scholar, but he had to fire a cannon. Now it's good, everyone dares not write poetry... Although it is an indisputable fact that there are few good poems in the poetry world of this dynasty. But you can't say it, otherwise how can the poetry meeting continue? Monk Xuelang still needs to raise funds.
Seeing the situation was awkward, the scholar panicked at first, but when he saw that Zhao Shouzheng was also wearing a blue shirt, he sneered disdainfully: "You are companions, right? I guess you are also a fool who donated money to study. Do you know what rhyme and rhythm are, and how to use allusions and how to transform allusions?"
He first stepped on Mr. Zhao's status, and then he said proudly: "There are so many famous scholars, candidates, and gentry, is it your turn as a small student to comment on them ?"
The people around him immediately echoed, "That's right, if you have the ability, you can write a poem, maybe you can also be a doggerel poet."
"That's right. First, write a poem that rhymes and let everyone see if you are qualified to judge us!"
"Write poetry, write poetry, write poetry!"
Now all the criticism was directed at Master Zhao.
Fan Datong was also angry now. Others could look down on him, but they could not look down on his brother. He patted Zhao Shouzheng on the shoulder and said loudly:
"How difficult is that? My brother is extremely talented and can compose a poem in just seven steps!"
"Oh..." Everyone gasped when they heard this, and they were no longer sure about Zhao Shouzheng's background. They thought, could he really be a master who came to mess things up?
"Brother, use your eloquent speech skills to intimidate these guys who look down on others." Fan Datong encouraged Zhao Shouzheng while looking at him expectantly.
But Zhao Shou was embarrassed and whispered: "I can't write any poems either..."
"Ah, those poems that big brother recites all day long..." Fan Datong was stunned.
"Those are all poems written by ancient people. Only you, an uneducated person, would think that I wrote them." Zhao Shouzheng told him the truth with a wry smile.
…
The imperial examinations of the Ming Dynasty did not require students to write poems. Zhao Shouzheng had been concentrating on his studies for many years but still failed to pass the exam, so he naturally would not spend much effort on this. However, as the saying goes, "If you read 300 Tang poems, you will be able to write poems even if you can't." If he was forced to write a poem, he would be able to write one. But Zhao Shouzheng was very clear-headed at the moment, and he knew that it would be better for him not to write it!
In the current atmosphere, only by producing a masterpiece that will amaze people can these people shut up. Ordinary works will definitely be picked apart.
Could Mr. Zhao come up with a good work? Obviously not... He knew that if he barely managed to write a poem, he would definitely be ridiculed if he made the wrong rhyme, used the wrong allusion, or failed to express the meaning of the poem.
Just like Fan Datong's poem, it will spread all over Jinling in a few days. He doesn't want to repeat the same mistake and become a laughing stock in the mouths of others. How can he participate in the imperial examination in that case?
"Ah..." Fan Datong then realized that he had lifted a stone and hit his brother's foot instead.
"What? Can't a poem be written in seven steps? If you really can't do it, it won't hurt to take a few more steps..." The scholar saw the weak nature of Zhao Shouzheng and pressed him harder.
"My dear brother, you don't know. I don't have any talent." Zhao Shouzheng made up his mind that he would never write a poem today, so he said shamelessly: "I am from the Kuyin School..."
"Puchi..." Everyone couldn't help but chuckle, but they couldn't make any more noise like they did just now.
Because the so-called "Ku Yin School" was actually a major school of poetry founded by the poet saint and promoted by Jia Dao and Meng Jiao.
After all, there are only a few natural poets who can write fluently and compose a poem in seven steps. Most poets need to be extremely rigorous and serious in order to write a good poem, repeatedly pondering over each word and sentence, and tempering it day by day. The saying "It takes three years to write two lines, and tears flow when you recite them" is exactly this reason.
Especially in the poetry world of this dynasty, there is no one who can compete. Including Xuelang, everyone who participates in poetry gatherings would pick out sentences and prepare poems several days in advance. Aren't they all hard-working poets?
But how could the scholar give up? He sneered at Zhao Shouzheng and said, "You are worthy of being a poet? I think you are just making excuses for not being able to write a poem!"
"If you don't believe me, I have nothing to say." Zhao Shouzheng spread his hands and rolled his eyes.
Seeing that Zhao Shouzheng was dominating the scene, Fan Datong, who was standing by, immediately said to the scholar in a servile manner, "It seems that you are not a poet. Why don't you compose a poem on the spot so that we can learn from it?"
"This..." The scholar himself had no talent for poetry, and he panicked subconsciously, but then he came to his senses and said angrily, "Don't change the subject!"
The two sides were in a stalemate. Xuelang couldn't stand it any longer. After all, he was the host here, so how could he embarrass the guest? He came over and said with a smile:
"That's fine. The poetry gathering will be held for three days in a row. Just go back and think it over carefully. It doesn't matter whether you write a poem or a lyric. You can come back tomorrow or the day after tomorrow."
"Okay, I'll come back tomorrow and let you open your eyes!"
Seeing the steps down, Zhao Shouzheng immediately said a few polite words and left with Fan Datong.
…
Let’s talk about two things separately, Caijia Lane.
Zhao Shouzheng is going to attend a literary gathering today, and Zhao Hao also has a lot of things to do.
At noon, the furniture and floor tiles he ordered would be delivered. Before that, he had to thank the old captain first...
That afternoon, Gao the blacksmith replied that the old captain had told him that the owner of the house had left Nanjing a long time ago and had entrusted him to sell the house for only fifty taels.
This price can be said to be a bargain.
The housing prices in Nanjing were extremely high. A house of the same size by the Qinhuai River could not be bought for 800 taels of silver. Even a slightly newer house in Caijia Lane would cost more than 100 taels of silver, and it was not as spacious as this one. If the owner was not there and the house had fallen into disrepair, it would definitely not be possible to get this price.
Zhao Hao was now considered to have some wealth, so he immediately took out fifty taels of silver and asked Gao the blacksmith and Lao Jiachang to go to the yamen to transfer the house deed.
When he returned home last night, Gao the blacksmith had already placed the completed house deed in front of Zhao Hao.
Zhao Hao didn't expect that things would be done so quickly. He thought it would take at least three to five days.
The furniture was about to be delivered, and if I didn't go and thank the old captain in person, people would gossip about me.
Now that his home was well-stocked, he picked up a few gifts and prepared to visit the old head of the Jia family.
Lao Jiachang's house was across the bridge, and Gao Wu led the way carrying the gifts.
Just as he was about to cross the bridge, Zhao Hao saw the old captain eating porridge at the breakfast stall.
Zhao Hao went over and smiled at the old captain, "I was just about to come and thank you, but I didn't expect to run into you here."
"Mr. Zhao, you are too polite." The old captain was even more polite to Zhao Hao than last time. He quickly stood up and asked him to sit down and have breakfast together.
…
At the breakfast stall, only the old captain and the old man from last time were eating porridge, and there were no other business.
Qiaoqiao squatted by the bridge, caught the dishes and chopsticks that her mother had washed by the river, and placed them neatly in the bowl basket.
When she saw Zhao Hao coming, she stood up happily and wanted to greet him.
But Zhao Hao came straight to the old captain and didn't see her at all. The girl didn't know why, but she felt a little unhappy and turned her head away, pretending not to see it.
Her father, however, was very attentive. He happened to have nothing to do, so he came over to exchange a few pleasantries and asked, "What would you like today, young master?"
Zhao Hao looked at the empty breakfast stall in surprise, then raised his head to look at the sky. The morning glow had not yet faded, so why was business still so bad?
Then again, he had been here a few times, and it seemed like business had never been good...
Mr. Zhao, who was good at speaking, certainly would not hurt anyone's feelings. He smiled and ordered a lot of food, and also ordered a few things for the old captain and his old friend.
The stall owner could naturally see that he was taking care of his own business, and he couldn't help but express his gratitude and thanks, then hurried over to get back to work.
