Great Zhou Wensheng

Chapter 150, "A Moonlit Night on the Spring River"! A thousand poems pay homage, poems are presented to the King!
Outside the Jiangnan Examination Hall, the autumn sun shines obliquely.

Zhou Guangjin, Zhang Youyi, and dozens of other students from Jiangyin County failed the first round of the autumn examination and walked out of the Jiangnan Examination Hall dejectedly.

"Han Yugui, Cao An, Lu Ming, Li Yunxiao, and Gu Zhimian are still in the examination room!"

The white-haired old scholar Zhang Youyi looked back at the Jiangnan Examination Hall with lingering reluctance, counting the names of his classmates who were still taking the exam, his voice gradually fading.

Zhou Guangjin was slightly better and patted him on the shoulder: "Let's go back to the Jinling Inn and wait. Maybe we can get their good news from the autumn examination."

The scholars remained silent.

Although he was unwilling, he knew that the first round of this year's autumn imperial examination had eliminated more than 60% of the candidates, and he was just one of the many who failed.

Those who succeed in the imperial examinations are ultimately only a very small number of outstanding individuals!
The autumn wind swept across the red walls of the Jiangnan Examination Hall, carrying with it their endless sighs.

"If it were them, they would pass the imperial examination this year."

Someone whispered.

When people looked at each other, they could see the complex emotions in each other's eyes—hoping that their classmates would pass the imperial examination, thus demonstrating their friendship and helping them out.
He also had a hidden worry that if they met again in the future, he would still be a commoner and feel ashamed in front of his former classmates.

Zhou Guangjin suddenly laughed and said, "Let's go to Zuixianlou and order two jars of osmanthus wine. Let's have a good drink. Today, let's pray for our classmates."

Three years later, we will take the imperial examination again in the autumn, and we will surely pass with flying colors!

These words were spoken frankly, and the gloom in the hearts of the scholars from Jiangyin County dissipated slightly. They walked towards the inn in twos and threes.

This autumn imperial examination will continue for a long time before the results are released.

The Jiangnan Examination Hall stands solemnly, like iron.

"Question Two!"

"Students, concentrate and observe carefully!"

With the sound of three gongs, hundreds of yamen runners in black robes, carrying sandalwood examination boards, filed out from the east and west sides of Mingyuan Tower.

These rigorously trained constables, marching in unison, formed two long, dark dragons in the morning light, slowly gliding among the thousands of examination rooms.

The examination questions, written in vermilion ink on the answer sheets, added a touch of solemnity to the otherwise dignified examination hall.

"The warmth of spring lingers, the great river surges; flowers bloom everywhere, the moon casts its golden light, and the night is enchanting."

Jiang Xingzhou's gaze sharpened slightly as he looked at the exam questions outlined in vermilion. He was taken aback for a moment, then suddenly realized what was happening.

"Spring... River... Flowers... Moon... Night...?"

He murmured softly, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table, a faint smile suddenly appearing on his lips.

"What a coincidence."

This scene perfectly matches Zhang Ruoxu's masterpiece, "A Solo Work That Overshadows the Flourishing Tang Dynasty"!

Now that Jiang Xingzhou had an idea, he wasn't in a hurry to put it into writing.

He slowly put down his purple-tipped brush, lowered his eyes, and sat quietly, as if entering a state of meditation.

The hustle and bustle of the examination hall gradually faded away, leaving only the magnificent essay in my heart, slowly unfolding word by word on my spiritual platform.

When the patrol officer arrived at examination room number one, he saw Jiang Xingzhou deep in thought with his eyes closed. He frowned and was about to gently remind him, but then stopped himself.

He glanced at the water clock; it was still early, and interrupting abruptly might disturb his thoughts.

Examination Room No. 2, Class A.

Xie Qihe's gaze fell on the exam questions, and his fingertips suddenly tightened, the bamboo pen making a slight cracking sound.

He took a deep breath, his eyes sparkling—he actually remembered this topic!
Memories surge like a tidal wave.

That night, the Duojing Tower was brightly lit, hosting hundreds of guests. After collecting taxes and grain, the governor leaned on the railing and gazed into the distance.

The mighty river flowed, the moonlight shone like a ribbon, and the shimmering waves reflected the profile of the governor.

At that time, there were only three scholars who could stand beside him: Jiang Xingzhou, Wang Moqing, and Xie Qihe.

Of the tens of thousands of students in Jiangnan, only these three were able to witness this scene firsthand.

How lucky!
Isn't this the will of Heaven?
The Duojing Pavilion from that night seemed to reappear before my eyes—the river waves crashed against the shore like thunder, the moonlight poured down like silk, and the governor's robes fluttered in the wind.

The governor's exclamation still echoed in my ears—"What a magnificent moon shines over the great river, its grandeur encompassing mountains and rivers."

"This question can only be truly understood by those who have experienced it firsthand!"

This poem/article of mine!
This will surely satisfy the governor immensely!

Xie Qihe closed his eyes.

After a moment's thought, Xie Qihe suddenly smiled.

He dipped his brush in ink, paused for a moment, and then suddenly wrote with lightning speed, as if divinely inspired.

On the rough paper, ink splattered everywhere, and a seven-character regulated poem appeared vividly:

[sequence:]
[The poem says:]

The Yangtze River, rolling with snow, roars and surges, breaking through the clouds.

Spring tides surge and fish and dragons stir, night air settles and stars return.

]
[Postscript:]
The brush moves with the grace of dragons and snakes.
Xie Qihe's writing became increasingly sharp, and his words were full of his inner spirit.

Examination Room No. 350, Class C.

Gu Zhimian's face was slightly pale, and his hand holding the pen trembled slightly.

He passed the first exam entirely by "luck".

Simply because, in his exam paper, he stated that...
—That day, he followed behind Jiang Xingzhou's banner. Taking advantage of the moment when Jiang Xingzhou finished writing "A Great Storm" and the iron horses and icy rivers broke through the demon army's formation, he rushed forward and killed several demon soldiers who were in a panic and scattered.

Most likely, it was the examiners' appreciation of his unwavering loyalty that made him stand out, which allowed him to pass the first round of the autumn imperial examinations.

The second test, poetry and prose, required candidates to write a long poem within a very limited scope set by the examiner!
The poem prompt before him was like a knife, extremely difficult, making his temples throb.

"The real test is here."

Gu Zhimian licked his chapped lips, pondering for a long time.
Suddenly, a flash of inspiration struck.

"Although the examination focuses on poetry and prose, and writing about scenes and emotions, why not praise the achievements of the governor?"

Write about the governor's achievements and merits!
As long as you flatter well, the article's quality will definitely be high!

Gu Zhimian gritted his teeth.

The wolf-hair brush slammed heavily into the inkstone, ink splattering onto his sleeve, and suddenly a gust of wind arose from the brush:
[Ode to the Autumn Imperial Examination - Night Banquet at Duojing Tower]

The governor ascended the tower to host a banquet for the virtuous, and the young men of Jiangnan all donated their wealth.

With a fleet of 100,000 ships and ample provisions, their heroic spirit shook the mountains and rivers.

Leaning on the railing, gazing into the distance, my thoughts wander; in this prosperous age, war continues unabated.

It is not for the sake of titles and honors that I lightly face death, but only because I share a common hatred for my country and its people!
The poem includes a glimpse of scenery!
The focus is entirely on the achievements of the governor.

Finally, the two characters "同仇" (shared hatred) were drawn out with a trembling tail.

"There should be some hope of passing the second exam of this autumn examination!"

Gu Zhimian stared blankly at the blank page, suddenly realizing that his blue collar was soaked with sweat.

After ten years of hard study, his skills in flattery and bootlicking were almost fully unleashed!
"There's only one incense stick left. Time to close the scroll!"

The sound of the gong of the examination inspectors came from afar, and he hurriedly copied the draft onto the main examination paper.

As the water clock dripped within the Jiangnan Examination Hall, time passed...
Among the tens of thousands of examination rooms.

In some examination rooms, various strange phenomena began to appear—as long as an article was written [out of the county], strange phenomena, both large and small, would inevitably occur.

The autumn imperial examination was the most important moment in the lives of scholars.

Ten years of hard study, all for this one battle!
The scholars poured out all their knowledge, bringing out their most treasured skills and proudest abilities.

Suddenly, a beam of clear light, ten feet high, burst forth from examination room number seventeen, illuminating the four walls as white as snow.

In examination room number 300 (Class A), the ink on the answer sheet transformed into a bluebird flapping its wings and chirping three times amidst the radiance!
Suddenly, the sound of jade chimes came from examination room number 30 of the second grade. The walls of the examination room were as white as jade!

"Out of the county. Yet another work outside the county!"

Candidates in other examination rooms in the examination area were filled with envy upon seeing the unusual phenomena occurring in other examination rooms!

—Any article that can evoke extraordinary phenomena will almost certainly pass this second round of testing!

Those candidates who were still racking their brains gripped their writing brushes tightly, their knuckles turning white.

Examination Room No. 1, Class A.

Inside the cramped examination room, the lingering heat of autumn still raged.

The rising steam, carrying the scent of ink, floats slowly among the blue bricks and gray tiles.

Jiang Xingzhou's forehead was covered in fine beads of sweat, but he was completely unaware of it.

Until the sound of the yamen runner's clapper struck three times in the distance, the clear and melodious sound was like a wake-up call, making his mind suddenly clear.

He took a deep breath, his wrist hovering slightly, and the wolf-hair brush dipped heavily in the ink on the Duan inkstone.

The moment the brush touches the Xuan paper, it's like a dragon entering the abyss or a phoenix soaring into the sky; lines of ink meander and flow across the paper.
["Spring River Flower Moonlight Night"]
[sequence:
Spring is coming to an end but the warmth has not yet dissipated; the night is deep but the moon is shining brightly.

After the banquet at Duojing Tower, the governor leaned alone against the railing, gazing upon the surging Yangtze River, the interplay of flowering trees, and the shimmering golden waves—a scene of breathtaking beauty. He then ordered his students to compose poems capturing the grandeur of the landscape.
Jiang Xingzhou paused after finishing the preface.

This short preface of a few dozen words—explaining the topic, breaking through the problem, and clarifying the author's aspirations—not only clarifies the origin of the poem but also subtly aligns with the examiner's profound intention in setting the question, and perfectly connects the author's answer with the examiner's expectations.

He paused for a moment, his gaze deepening.

Next comes the real poetry and prose.

Dip the wolf-hair brush in fresh ink again and spread it across the paper:
[The poem says:]

The tide of the Chunjiang River connects to the sea, and the moon and the sea coexist.

Rippling waves stretch for thousands of miles; where on the spring river is there no moon shining brightly?
The river meanders around the fragrant fields, and the moonlight shines on the flower forest like scattered snowflakes.
Frost flows silently through the air, and white sand on the riverbank is invisible.

The river and sky are one color, without a speck of dust; the bright moon hangs alone in the sky.

Who first saw the moon by the riverbank? In what year did the river moon first shine on humankind?
Life goes on endlessly, generation after generation, but the moon over the river looks the same year after year.

I wonder for whom the river moon waits, as the Yangtze River carries its flowing waters. A white cloud drifts leisurely by, and on the shores of Qingfengpu, sorrow overwhelms me.

Whose boat is that tonight? Where is the moonlit tower, where longing resides?

The moon lingers sadly above the tower, its light surely shining on the dressing table of the one who has departed.

The jade curtain cannot be rolled up, and the dust from the washing stone cannot be brushed away.

At this moment, we can see each other but cannot hear each other. I wish the moonlight could shine on you.

Wild geese fly far and wide, their flight unseen; fish and dragons leap and dive, their movements creating patterns on the water.

Last night the dream of Xiantan fell, and Poor Chun didn't return home.

The river flows and spring is gone, and the river pond falls to the west.

The oblique moon sinks into the sea fog, and the Jieshi Xiaoxiang Road is endless.

I wonder how many will return by moonlight; the setting moon stirs emotions among the trees along the river.
As the last stroke of the poem was written, the waning moon outside the window had already sunk into the eaves of the west pavilion, and frost and dew quietly soaked through the blue robe.

Jiang Xingzhou stared at the still-wet ink on the scroll of poetry and suddenly felt that the misty haze on the paper was even more real than the actual scene outside the window.

He hesitated for a moment, then picked up his pen and added the ending:

Postscript:
As I put down my pen, the waning moon had already sunk into the western pavilion, and frost and dew were gradually wetting my blue robe.

To be able to compose a poem upon ascending a height has been a difficult task since ancient times.

Only those with profound knowledge and a pen that can wield the power of wind and thunder can express even a fraction of its essence.

With a stroke of the brush, he has captured the surging power of the great river, the graceful forms of the flowering trees, and the shimmering light of the golden waves in his poem. He has truly lived up to the governor's command, and has also done justice to the beautiful night.
Jiang Xingzhou's brushstrokes flowed like dragons and snakes, the ink traces like swimming dragons churning, and wherever the brush tip passed, a faint bluish light appeared.

He was so engrossed in his meditation that he was completely unaware of the strange phenomena gradually appearing on the Xuan paper on the table—

The ink shines, each character like a star, each sentence like the moon!

A hazy, shimmering light rose from the paper, like smoke or mist, lingering and never dissipating.

The entire poem "Spring River Flower Moon Night" seems to come alive, with every word twinkling like stars and every line of poetry like the bright moon hanging in the sky, its radiance flowing and shining brightly!

"boom--!"

Suddenly, a dazzling light burst forth from the scroll, like a celestial river pouring down, vast and mighty!
A beam of clear light shot into the sky from Examination Room No. 1, illuminating the examination hall and reaching the heavens!
The light shone with seven colors, as dazzling as the sunset, and when it shone on you, it warmed your heart and made you feel like you were bathed in a spring breeze.

Jiang Xingzhou, however, was completely unaware, still immersed in the poetic realm.

In a trance,
Inside the Jiangnan Examination Hall,
The sound of a tide seems to surge in from the horizon—

"Wow——!"

The mighty river flows swiftly into the sea;
Where the sea meets the sky, a bright moon rises majestically!
The blue waves surge for thousands of miles, and the bright, clear light shines upon the world!
As the extraordinary visions of Jiang Xingzhou's poem "Spring River Flower Moon Night" ascended, the entire Jiangnan Examination Hall seemed to be swept into a vast realm of river and moonlight.

In the other examination rooms, the shimmering literary light and faint poetic charm that had been present suddenly dimmed, like fireflies meeting the bright moon.
The clash between literature and morality is as fierce as the moon over the stars!
Jiang Xingzhou remained seated at his desk, completely unaware that his writing had cast a shadow over the entire examination hall of the Jiangnan Examination Hall.

His eyes were slightly closed, as if he had become one with the moonlit night over the spring river. The ink on his brush was not yet dry, but it had already reflected the vast landscape!

The Jiangnan Examination Hall stands silently, its thousands of examination rooms like a forest.

As the candidates were writing furiously at their desks, they suddenly felt the Xuan paper on the desks moving violently without any wind, all facing the same direction.

The candidates who were writing suddenly felt their brushstrokes freeze and the ink become dull, as if an invisible force was shaking their thoughts.

"This"

Xie Qihe's hand holding the pen suddenly trembled.

He looked down in astonishment, only to see that the exam papers on the table were moving on their own without any wind, the pages trembling violently.

What's even more alarming is that the snow-white Xuan paper suddenly bent forward, seemingly crawling towards the No. 1 examination room!
All the candidates were stunned and stared in astonishment when they saw their own exam papers, which were trembling violently.
"what?"

Someone looked up in surprise, only to see—

Above the No. 1 examination building, a rainbow of colorful rays shone like a ribbon, reflecting off the green bricks and gray tiles with brilliance.

"What...what's going on?"

The candidates looked at each other in bewilderment.

Strangely, all the open exam papers trembled on the desk, the rustling of the pages like the mournful sound of autumn leaves, as if they were afraid of some indescribable existence.

The undried ink in the inkstone rippled with fine lines, reflecting the strange phenomena in the sky.

Wang Moqing looked up in astonishment at the bright light shining from Examination Room No. 1 (Class A).

Looking at the strange phenomenon that quickly dimmed in his examination room, he murmured, "What... what kind of article is this? It can suppress all my literary brilliance?"

The instructors, yamen runners, and clerks on patrol stopped and stared, speechless.
Inside the Zhigong Hall, the candlelight suddenly dimmed.

Governor Wei Guanlan suddenly stood up, oblivious to the fact that his official robes had overturned and his teacup had spilled.

His expression was horrified, his eyes wide open, staring intently at his desk—

But see,

On the desks of the officials in their purple robes—except for the sacred texts which remained unmoved, all the other writing implements, especially those containing poems, trembled as if they were alive.

Poems on Xuan paper all bowed and drooped.

Thousands of poems prostrated themselves in worship towards Examination Room No. 1.

His appearance was just like that of a commoner meeting the king!
"This, this is—the extraordinary phenomenon of 'ten thousand poems paying homage and poems appearing before the king'?!"

Wei Guanlan's hair and beard trembled, his face filled with horror.

The powerful aura and overwhelming pressure emanating from these poems and prose made even the governor of Jiangnan feel extremely terrified.

"Once a poem is written, ten thousand poems bow down in respect!"

"His literary talent surpasses that of Jiangnan! This is a rare phenomenon in poetry and prose, one that is not seen for thousands of years!"

"—Such a strange phenomenon has actually occurred?!"

The academic commissioner, Du Jingchen, was overjoyed and slammed his hand on the table, causing a crack to appear on the rosewood table.

He looked towards the Jiangnan Examination Hall.

It was Jiang Xingzhou's examination room, number one in the first grade!

Seven-colored light covered the entire Jiangnan Examination Hall, and even the sky was tinged with boundless radiance.

Before the words were even finished, another strange phenomenon occurred!
Suddenly, the clear moonlight transformed into countless moonbeams, cascading down like a waterfall.

Above the examination hall, a vast expanse of the river and moon appeared.

[The spring river rises with the tide, level with the sea; the bright moon rises with the tide!]
Between the sea and the sky, the sound of the surging tide was continuous!
Du Jingchen's throat bobbed, and his usually calm voice trembled slightly with excitement.

Under the watchful eyes of a hall full of high-ranking officials, the high-ranking official in charge of education and culture in Jiangnan Province looked astonished and incredulous.

"Could this be an article from [Mingzhou]?"

The deputy examiner, the educational commissioner of Yangzhou, spoke in a trembling voice.

"But this phenomenon doesn't seem quite right!"

Another examiner looked up at the ever-expanding pillar of radiant light, his voice trembling.

All the high-ranking officials in the hall had witnessed the extraordinary phenomenon of the [Mingzhou] essay—

Or perhaps a magnificent chapter soars into the sky, transforming into a hundred miles of rosy clouds;
Or perhaps the magnificent writings, as imposing as a mountain, have bent the ancient cypress trees of the examination hall.

At the very least, one should possess talent that lingers like a fragrant breeze, its echoes resonating for three days.
But what is this scene before my eyes?

Thousands of poetry collections are like seeing the King of Poetry; the Xuan paper bends over, and the inkstone bows its head.

Even the copper bells on the eaves of the examination hall fell silent, trembling under the invisible pressure.

It's simply unbelievable that it could make all the poems and essays collectively submit!

As dusk settled,

Inside the Jiangnan Examination Hall, you could hear a pin drop.

"Gentlemen, please calm down!"

The sound of the bell in the Confucian Temple signifies the divine decree.

Please wait patiently!

With a flick of his sleeves, Wei Guanlan's voice boomed like a bell, and his piercing gaze swept over everyone present.

Once an essay in the autumn imperial examination reaches the level of "Mingzhou" or above, even the prefectural examiner has no right to grade it.

Instead, it should be handed over to the Confucian Temple for imperial judgment!

Upon hearing this, all the examiners held their breath in unison.

"Indeed, whenever a remarkable article is published, the Spring and Autumn Bell in the Confucian Temple will surely ring in response—three rings for a county, five rings for a prefecture, and so on."

"good!
When the bell tolls at the Confucian Temple, the ranking of literary works is revealed.

Wei Guanlan's official robes billowed slightly in the evening breeze. He stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze sharp as lightning, piercing straight towards the Nanjing Confucian Temple.

The examiners held their breath, the only sound the ticking of the water clock.

but,

What puzzled them was...

Another incense stick's worth of time passed.

But they never received the sound of the Confucian temple bell that would announce the verdict.

"Weird!"

A deputy examiner wiped his sweat with his sleeve and said in a low voice, "Since the bell was erected at the Confucian Temple in Jinling Prefecture, there has never been a precedent where extraordinary phenomena have appeared in writings, but the bell has not sounded."

The examiners waited patiently, exchanging glances, their foreheads gradually beaded with sweat.

The outline of the Nanjing Confucian Temple was faintly visible in the twilight in the distance.
But the bell that would decide fate seemed to be stopped by some invisible force.

(End of this chapter)