Chapter 636 - 404: Ascending the Pavilion (Part 2)

"Yes." Zhu Peng said, "Only if your poem is selected can you qualify to go upstairs. The second step is chatting while playing the zither; if Qin Xueyin fancies you, then you can stay overnight."

Duan Rong laughed and said, "It’s as if sleeping has become as complicated as the imperial exam. You guys sure know how to play!"

Duan Rong suddenly changed the topic, "You’ve participated quite a few times, haven’t you? Have you ever been selected?"

Zhu Peng’s face suddenly turned red, and he said somewhat discouraged, "I have tried a few times, but none of my poems have caught Miss Qin’s eye."

He spent hefty sums having people write poems for him several times, but perhaps it was bad luck or he wasn’t destined; in any case, he was never selected.

"Let’s go!" Duan Rong suddenly said, "Take me there; I guarantee you’ll make it to Qin Building this time!"

"Really?" Zhu Peng was instantly overjoyed.

But soon his eyes dimmed; Duan Rong was obviously just boasting.

He was just a rustic from the Four Southeast Prefectures, maybe skilled at investigation, but as for poetry, he certainly didn’t look the part.

Regardless of whether Duan Rong was boasting, Zhu Peng still led Duan Rong to the Flame Moon Building.

After all, this was the liveliest and most charming place in Divine Cloud Prefecture.

The Flame Moon Building was on Chang Le Street, by the Danjiang River, and the most bustling spot was where Qin Building was located.

Countless literati and butterfly-chasers crowded there waiting for Qin Xueyin’s maid to collect poem submissions; many destitute scholars also peddled their poems in front of the building.

Even though buying someone else’s poem might reveal itself in conversation, passing the first step at least let you catch a glimpse of Qin Xueyin through the curtain, enough to brag to friends for a year.

When Duan Rong and Zhu Peng hurried over, they saw the maid who collects poems had already come downstairs.

Zhu Peng seeing this said, "Alright, today is a wasted trip, we’re already late!"

Duan Rong: "Late? I think it’s perfect timing!"

As he spoke, Duan Rong went to the stall of a nearby scholar, picked up a pen, and started writing.

He first wrote a poem titled "Early Morning Journey to Shang Mountain" for Zhu Peng.

This poem is one of Wen Tingyun’s best works, nearly considered a rare masterpiece, a stroke of genius.

After finishing, Duan Rong looked up just as the maid collecting poems reached the middle of the staircase; his eyes flickered, and he quickly penned a short, murderous poem for himself: An ardent song in Yan Market, composed calmly like a prisoner in Chu. Taking a knife is a pleasure, not ashamed of a youthful head.

After completing it, Duan Rong couldn’t help but chuckle; the poet who wrote such an ardent and murderous work turned out to be a traitor selling his country for glory during a national crisis. Isn’t poetry just a joke?

Seeing the maid had reached the end of the queue, Duan Rong immediately handed over the final poem sheet.

The poem sheet in Zhu Peng’s hand was submitted right after Duan Rong.

The maid had already gone upstairs with a thick stack of poems, and Zhu Peng was still murmuring.

Although Zhu Peng didn’t quite understand poetry, he could taste the charm of the "Early Morning Journey to Shang Mountain" quickly penned by Duan Rong: Morning starts with a bell, the traveler mourns for home. Chicken calls at the tavern moon, footsteps on the frosty plank bridge. Oak leaves fall on mountain roads, orange flowers bright against the station wall. Thinking of Du Ling’s dreams, full of ducks and geese at the pond.

He didn’t fully grasp some sentences, but the rhymes and the cadence were evidently elegant and refined, certainly not mediocre creations.

Above in the embroidered building, Qin Xueyin, wearing a veil, was lazily sitting at a table, going through the poems with an indifferent attitude; as she did, a faint anger appeared on her fair face.

"All sorts of pretentious, hypocritical works!"

"Ridiculous! Nonsense ramblings!"

Qin Xueyin, about to finish reading the poems, thought today would be another day without anyone ascending.

"Is there truly no scholar of real talent and learning within Divine Cloud Prefecture?"

Just then, she saw the last two poems.

After one glance, her eyes lit up.

Then she placed the two poems side by side on the table, growing more and more fond of them.

Beneath Qin Building, it was crowded with entranced butterflies, among them those who spent large sums and effort just to ascend Qin Building and catch a glimpse of Qin Xueyin.

Half an incense stick later, the maid collecting the poems suddenly appeared from the embroidered building, standing by the staircase entrance, shouting cheerfully, "Today’s guests ascending: Duan Rong, Zhu Peng!"

Zhu Peng was stunned upon hearing this, thinking the poem written by Duan Rong was good, but at most it was on par with the ones he procured from those scholars. How could it possibly make it to Qin Building, winning Qin Xueyin’s favor?

Could it be luck?

No! Duan Rong also made it up the building. If it were only luck, how could both poems be chosen?

Zhu Peng turned and stared at Duan Rong in amazement, "Brother Duan, you are indeed a remarkable person!"

Duan Rong smiled and said, "Let’s go, up we go!"

Zhu Peng looked at Qin Xueyin’s personal maid standing by the staircase entrance with shining eyes, involuntarily swallowing hard, as it was his first time climbing the building.

The two pushed through the crowd congested at the staircase and ascended Qin Building amidst jealous and admiring eyes, entering the inner chambers of Qin Xueyin’s residence.

Once inside, the maid closed the door to the embroidered building.

The disappointed butterflies outside were instantly disheartened.

"Isn’t that Zhu Peng? From the Secretariat, can he write poems? Go find out which scholar’s poem he got, so we can get a copy too."

"Wait, isn’t there a Duan Rong mentioned earlier? Ever heard of him?"

"Never heard."

"Seems like the one who called down lightning at Wild Lake, that’s Duan Rong, right?"

"Yes!"

"Are you saying the one who ascended is Thunder God Duan? How’s that possible? Isn’t he busy investigating cases at the Ministry of Justice? How could he have time to come to Flame Moon Building?"

The crowd dispersed outside.

Inside the embroidered chamber, Qin Xueyin was at the zither stage behind a curtain, playing a tune for Duan Rong and Zhu Peng.

Zhu Peng stared dazedly at Qin Xueyin, veiled behind the curtain; though he couldn’t see her true visage, he could sense her outstanding grace and distinct aura.

After playing the tune, Qin Xueyin felt somewhat tired. She had caught a slight cold a few days ago and just recovered. Her body still felt lazy; had she not been fond of those two poems, she wouldn’t have played the zither.

With a light gesture, Qin Xueyin signaled, and two maids rolled up the bamboo curtain.

Qin Xueyin’s face behind the light veil became faintly visible.

This was her utmost sincerity.

Zhu Peng felt great joy; this experience was almost like seeing half of Qin Xueyin’s true appearance!

Scanning Duan Rong and Zhu Peng, Qin Xueyin said, "These two poems written by you, gentlemen, are the best I’ve read in two years, truly enchanting!"

"Mr. Duan’s poem may be only twenty words, but it’s like a short sword or lance—stormy and fierce! One who can write such a poem must be a real man, a true hero!"

Duan Rong slightly smiled, picked up a cup in front of him, and drank it all in one go, saying, "Actually, this poem was written by a fellow townsman of mine!"

"Oh?" Qin Xueyin smiled lightly, "Mr. Duan, you are candid."

In truth, borrowing someone else’s poem to ascend was not just one or two instances, which is why there was a tradition of chatting while playing the zither to test if the talent was genuine; she could tell within a few sentences.

Duan Rong said, "Would Miss Qin like to know what kind of person my townsman is?"

Qin Xueyin said, "I would love to hear about it."

Duan Rong said, "In his early years, he was indeed a righteous man, just like in the poem. But later, he became a traitor who sold his friends and heritage for riches. What I’m curious about is: can human nature truly be seen in poetry?"

Duan Rong’s question was like a thorn, pricking Qin Xueyin.

What she believed in at Qin Building was that poetry reveals one’s will and character. If human nature can’t be seen in poetry, wouldn’t all her efforts be a laughingstock of pretentious aesthetics? His question was exposing her weakness.

Qin Xueyin held her ground and said, "Xueyin firmly believes human nature is shown in poetry."

"Oh really?" Duan Rong looked at her with a smile.

Qin Xueyin sighed and said, "It’s just unfortunate, human nature is fickle. I earnestly believe that Mr. Duan’s townsman had a sincere heart when writing this poem. Without this heart, such a poem couldn’t exist. Yet the world is cold, human hearts change! That traitor has long ceased to be the righteous man of the past, and he absolutely couldn’t have written such a poem now!"

Duan Rong was surprised by her words. Her insight into poetry and human nature made him applaud, "Miss Qin, your view is truly insightful! I’ve learned much!"

Qin Xueyin’s words not only impressed but made Duan Rong feel as if she had spoken real truths hidden in the sands of history.

Human nature is fickle!

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