Great Zhou Wensheng

Chapter 208 "Remembering Jiangnan"! Lü Mengzheng, do you mind if I write poems about the northern frontier?

The examination hall in Luoyang, with the name "[Jiangnan]".

Inside the examination hall with its blue bricks and gray tiles.

Jiang Xingzhou sat in front of the case.

His slender fingers gently held the [Phoenix Seeking its Mate] brush, the tip lightly dipping into the inkstone to reveal the dark, night-like ink that reflected the sunlight filtering through the window.

The brush tip hovered above the Xuan paper exam paper, its tip faintly gleaming with a three-inch blue light, as if a powerful literary energy was flowing through it.

With a slight turn of his wrist, the brush moved like dragons and snakes, and the ink spread out like flowing clouds and water.

Bai Juyi's poem "Remembering Jiangnan," which has been recited throughout China for thousands of years, is transformed into misty rain on paper in these breaths.

Every stroke seems to carry the apricot blossoms and spring rain of Jiangnan. Between the lines, one feels as if they are on a painted boat, able to hear the singing girls' sheng and see the bright moon over the Twenty-Four Bridges.

"Jiangnan is beautiful; its scenery is familiar from long ago."

With the birth chart complete, the entire room shines with brilliance!
Ink stains the Xuan paper, talent surges like a dragon, bursting forth from the scroll—

In an instant, the atmosphere inside the examination hall transformed into a painted boat, filled with the fragrance of ink, with scrolls turning in the air, and even the sound of oars and gentle ripples on the water could be heard.

"The sunrise paints the river flowers redder than fire, and the spring river flows greener than blue."

Wherever the brushstrokes reach, beyond the painted boats, the misty waves of the Qinhuai River suddenly appear!
The sunset glow reflected on the river, the flowers were as red as fire, and the spring water was as blue as jade, as if the heavens had splashed colors, and the entire examination hall seemed to be dragged into a Jiangnan fantasy.

"How could I not miss Jiangnan?"

Jiang Xingzhou finished his final stroke with a resounding crash—

Talent transforms into the surging tide of the river, and rosy clouds soar into the heavens!
The entire examination hall was imbued with talent, like the overflowing spring tide, ink splashing like rain, and literary energy surging like waves. Jiang Xingzhou felt his own body surge with talent, and his depleted spirit was instantly restored!
Even more remarkably, the scholars around also benefited from it, feeling their minds clear, their fatigue gone, as if bathed in a spring breeze or drinking sweet rain.

"boom!"

The literary spirit surged, and the brilliance of the exam papers spread like ripples, instantly engulfing the entire examination hall!
The hands of tens of thousands of candidates holding pens suddenly stopped, and they looked up in shock, their eyes surging as they all turned towards the direction of the examination hall in Jiangnan!

Although separated by many cells, the person could not be seen.

But the main text of this poem was floating above the examination hall, and its magnificent talent was like the bright sun, dazzling and impossible to conceal.

The exam answer sheets were sealed in bags, and usually no one else could see the contents.

However, national-level poems and essays are all written directly above a mansion; talent condensed into words cannot be hidden at all.

"This is the poem—a testament to the nation's strength!"

It's unclear who shouted first, but the whole courtyard erupted in commotion.

"Jiang Xingzhou! It must be Jiang Xingzhou!"

"He is the top scholar in the Jiangnan region. Who else could write a national treasure-level poem about Jiangnan so quickly?!"

Someone exclaimed in surprise, "That's right! Less than half an incense stick's time had passed since the exam started, and in such a short time, he has written a poem of national renown about 'Jiangnan'?!"

"My poems and essays are still lingering at the 'leaving the county' level... their quality is too low, I dare not submit them!"

The other person stared blankly at the dim light of his own scroll, his fingertips trembling, unaware that ink had stained the paper.

Inside the examination hall of the Manchu Imperial Examination Hall, the candidates were filled with a mixture of surprise, envy, sighs, and jealousy, their cries of despair echoing throughout the hall. All the emotions of humanity were on display in that instant.

It should be noted that the first exam of this examination lasted for two hours.

But they are simply not enough!

Often, a single word requires careful consideration, taking into account its allusion, origin, artistic conception, and implied meaning!
They can spend months developing a truly exceptional poem.

Writing a poem or essay of the [Dafu] level or above in just two hours is as difficult as climbing to heaven.

But only half an incense stick has passed!

The scholars of Jiangnan were even more disheartened, as Jiang Xingzhou had already written a national-level poem on Jiangnan. For them to write a second national-level poem on Jiangnan was as difficult as ascending to heaven!
The chief examiner, Hanlin Academician Zhao Mingcheng, was pacing between the examination rooms with his hands behind his back when he suddenly noticed the direction of the Jiangnan Road examination rooms not far ahead—

boom!
A brilliant burst of talent, like a rosy ray of light, soared into the sky, piercing straight to the heavens!
Zhao Mingcheng's pupils contracted sharply, and his face instantly turned ashen—Jiang Xingzhou had seized the initiative and obtained the first [National Defense] poem!

His fingers clenched tightly inside his wide sleeves, his knuckles turning white.

"Jiang Xingzhou"

He practically spat out the name through gritted teeth, "and he actually beat me to the punch by getting the first poem to defend the nation!"

Following behind the chief examiner Zhao Mingcheng, Xu Shiheng, the Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites, also looked up in astonishment.

This usually composed Vice Minister of Rites was now lost in his composure, staring blankly at the towering pillar of light, speechless for a long time.

Inside the examination hall, scholars from the Hanlin Academy gathered in great numbers;
Outside the examination hall, the eyes of the people were fixed on the scene.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, what could he, as the second-in-command of the Ministry of Rites, possibly do?
Zhao Mingcheng took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over the other examination rooms with a gloomy expression: "Now, we can only hope that among the other ten thousand candidates, there is someone who can write a chapter on [Protecting the Nation]."

Hanlin Academician Zhao Mingcheng and Vice Minister of Rites Xu Shiheng, accompanied by several officials, strolled to the front of Jiang Xingzhou's examination room.

The door to the room was ajar. Through the carved window lattice, one could see that the young scholar in white, after finishing an answer sheet, was lazily crossing his legs, his eyes slightly closed, looking completely lost in thought and leisurely.

"Hmph, arrogant fool!"
In this solemn examination hall, he actually displayed such an arrogant attitude, showing no regard for anyone else!

If I were the examiner, I would certainly have him rejected!

Zhao Mingcheng clenched his fist tightly in his sleeve, his nails digging deeply into his palm.

However, if a second poem entitled "[Zhenguo]" had not been written, the first-place prize in the first round of the imperial examination would likely have been won by this eccentric scholar.

At this moment, apart from Jiang Xingzhou, all the tens of thousands of candidates in the ten provinces of the Great Zhou Dynasty were still writing furiously at their desks.

Some people, though overjoyed by the achievement of their poems, are also saddened by the contrast with Jiang Xingzhou's soaring talent that could govern the nation—it is ultimately like a firefly compared to the bright moon.

Some people, seeing the sparse talent on the paper and the faint image of "leaving the county," were so angry that they crumpled the Xuan paper into a ball and threw it hard on the ground.

He didn't even notice when a drop of ink accidentally fell onto the desk, staining his blue robe, and just kept picking up his brush to rewrite it.

In ordinary provinces, prefectures, and counties, a work that "goes beyond the county" is already enough to make people envious.

The fragrance of ink permeates the air, carrying with it a literary spirit that ordinary readers can be proud of.

However, this is the imperial examination of the Great Zhou Dynasty!

Inside this examination hall, where the nation's best talents gathered, the words "leaving the county" were simply too shameful to utter. Those scholars, highly regarded in their localities, now looked at their scrolls, gleaming with a faint glow of their own writing, their faces turning pale and then flushed.

"At the very least, one must write works worthy of the title of 'Da Fu' to be worthy of being a Jinshi!"

One of the candidates muttered to himself, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the exam paper.

The chief and deputy examiners, with their keen eyes, did not even give a second glance to essays that were not of the highest caliber.

Those papers that barely made it out of the county are destined to be submerged in the vast sea of ​​exam papers, without even making a splash.

Unless all the "Dafu" (prefectures) are selected and there are still not enough candidates for the 300 Jinshi (successful candidates in the highest imperial examinations), they will consider picking out an article from among the many "Chuxian" (counties outside the capital) that has a bit of the "Dafu" style.

Jiang Xingzhou sat leisurely in the examination room with his eyes closed, his blue robe slightly open, exuding an air of carefree leisure.

After resting up, he slowly put down his crossed legs, lightly tapped the table with his fingertips, making a few crisp "tap-tap" sounds.

"Ah"

He glanced up and swept his gaze across the silent examination hall, a half-smile playing on his lips. "I gave you all a chance, but you were all useless!"

If someone else from the Nine Paths of the Great Zhou has written a poem of the [National Guardian] level for their respective path, then so be it!

Since they were both Jinshi graduates from the same cohort, he didn't try to compete with them!
But no!

Outside the examination hall, the flow of literary talent is evident, yet so far only three to five works from the "Mingzhou" school have been published throughout the entire spring examination.

As for the new "national defense" chapter? Not even a shadow of it has appeared.

Jiang Xingzhou shook his head and sighed softly, but this was quite normal.

After all, in previous years, being able to produce a masterpiece that could govern the country was already remarkable, and one was often the only candidate to become the top scholar in the provincial examination.

Thinking this, he dipped his fingertip in ink and casually began to draw bamboo on the draft.

"Since there are no other people in the nine paths of the Great Zhou Dynasty who have written the national-protecting poems for their respective paths."
"Then, I'll do it!"

Jiang Xingzhou picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote down the remaining nine place names of the Great Zhou Dynasty on the draft in a flamboyant style: Central Plains, Bashu, Saibei, Monan, Jibei, Lingnan, Jingchu, Longyou, and Jibei.

"Then—I'll write it."

Which one should we start with?

Let's draw lots first!

Before he finished speaking, he had crumpled the nine slips of paper into a ball and casually tossed them onto the table.

As the paper balls rolled around, he casually picked one up, unfolded it, and took a look—

"Northern Frontier?"

Jiang Xingzhou raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes: "Brother Lü Mengzheng, your title of first place in the county examination of the northern frontier is likely to be tarnished today."

He raised his pen with his wrist suspended, and before the brush even touched the paper, a chilling and deadly aura emanated from it.

The winds of the northern frontier never stop blowing beyond the border.

Jiang Xingzhou's eyes seemed to sweep across the vast borderlands.

"Northern Frontier."

He chuckled softly, his pen hovering before it touched the paper, yet a sharp, cold line of ink had already spread across the paper.

Since the Han and Tang dynasties, countless literati and poets have left behind their masterpieces in this harsh and cold land.
Wang Wei's "A lone plume of smoke rises straight from the desert," Cen Shen's "Thousands of pear trees bloom," and Wang Changling's "I will not return until Loulan is conquered."
"But to speak of the pinnacle of artistic conception—"

A glint of light flashed in Jiang Xingzhou's eyes, and his pen suddenly took a turn.

"It has to be Wang Wei's 'On a Mission to the Frontier'!"

As ink splashed from his brush, a poem burst forth from his heart—

Inside the examination hall in the northern region, Lü Meng, the top scholar from the northern region, stared blankly at the still-wet ink on the scroll of poems on the table, his knuckles unconsciously tapping the surface.

"Snapped!"

A drop of ink fell from the tip of the brush, spreading a patch of gloom on the rice paper.

"[Mingzhou] Am I destined to stop here?"

He gave a bitter laugh, digging his fingertips deep into his hair. "With this level of skill, how can I compete with the prodigies of Jiangnan?"

Outside the window, the wind and snow howled, and in a daze, it seemed as if the sighs of the elders of the northern frontier could be heard.

He gripped the wolf-hair brush tightly, and the brush made a creaking sound as it struggled under the weight.

"How can the backbone of the men of the northern frontier be surrendered so easily?!"

He yanked the paperweight aside, and the snow-white new paper was spread out like a battlefield.

With a flourish of his pen, he poured out all the passion and fervor of the northern frontier from his heart—he was determined to write a national masterpiece of northern frontier poetry!

Jiang Xingzhou's pen suddenly stopped, and the entire examination hall fell silent.

[Riding alone, I sought to inquire about the border, passing through the vassal state of Juyan.]
[The tumbleweed drifts beyond the Han border, the returning wild geese fly into the land of the barbarians.]
[A lone plume of smoke rises straight from the desert, the setting sun hangs round over the long river.]
[At Xiaoguan Pass, I met a scout; the Protector-General was at Yanran.]
"boom--!"

In an instant, the ink in the Yin-Yang Fish Inkstone boiled like blood, and the Xuan paper on the table moved without any wind.

A beam of brilliant light, as intense as the sun, shot into the sky from the scroll, tearing a golden crack in the clouds above the examination hall.

In the misty clouds, it seemed as if a chariot was leaving the Han border and encountered a human cavalryman returning from battle at Yanran Mountain.

"This is."

In the distance, Lu Mengzheng, the northern envoy of the examination hall, suddenly looked up, and the wolf-hair brush in his hand snapped in two.

The splashed ink landed on his face, but he was completely unaware—all he saw was the brilliant poem floating in the air, each word like a knife.

"[A lone plume of smoke rises straight from the desert, the setting sun hangs round over the long river!]"

Lu Mengzheng was stunned with shock.

These ten short words struck his mind like a thunderbolt.

No, this!

How can this be? "

He was in the northern frontier, and almost every evening at sunset, he would gaze at the boundless desert outside the city and witness this magnificent yet desolate scene.

Magnificent and majestic!

However, I just couldn't capture this scene with a pen. I could never quite get it right; it always fell short.

Jiang Xingzhou!
He was a scholar who had achieved the highest rank in the provincial examinations in Jiangnan, living in the misty, rainy region of Jiangnan, where drizzling rain fell and gentle sighs echoed. He never once went to the northern frontier in his entire life.
How could anyone possibly capture such a magnificent and powerful atmosphere of the northern frontier?!
The ground of the examination hall began to tremble, and the leaves of the century-old locust tree fell in a rustling sound.

As the last two lines appeared, the entire Confucian temple in the capital suddenly resounded with deafening bell chimes of "dong, dong, dong!"

Chief examiner Zhao Mingcheng was walking forward when he suddenly turned around, looked at the poem that had appeared in Jiang Xingzhou's examination room, and said in a trembling voice, "No, how could he possibly write a poem about the northern frontier of the [national] level?"
This is his second article on "Protecting the Nation".
This means that even if other scholars from the nine provinces of the Great Zhou could write a masterpiece that could govern the nation, they would be utterly unable to match it!

In front of Minglun Hall, Tang Xiujin, the Minister of War, suddenly burst into loud laughter, which made the copper bells on the eaves ring loudly.

"it is good!

What a beautiful line: "A lone plume of smoke rises straight from the desert, the setting sun hangs round over the long river!"

This veteran general, who had guarded the northern frontier for ten years, was so excited that his hair and beard trembled.

His fingertips traced the air, as if sketching the grandeur of the poem—

"Ten characters, each carrying immense weight!"

With such concise strokes, a desolate scene of the frontier is depicted—

A plume of smoke rises straight up in the boundless desert, while a long river meanders, cradling the round setting sun, showcasing the vastness and solitude of the world.

It can be described as a magnificent masterpiece of frontier landscape description throughout the ages!

Tang Xiujin turned around abruptly, his official robes billowing like battle flags, and addressed the assembled deputy examiners, "Back when I served as the prefect of the northern frontier, I spent ten years guarding the border. I wrote about the northern frontier's scenery to the fullest, but even my poem 'Moon Over the Northern Tower' barely made it into the top ten in the prefecture!"

Tang Xiujin stared at the gradually dissipating pillar of talent, his eyes flashing with a hint of war: "Jiang Lang, you are truly a literary genius of our Great Zhou!"

I originally thought he would have one [Zhenguo], two or three [Mingzhou], and six or seven [Dafu] in this round!

but never thought,

Two novels on the theme of "Protecting the Nation" – one about Jiangnan and the other about the northern frontier!
In this imperial examination, no one can surpass Jiang Lang's two [Zhen Guo] poems!

"Lord Wei, how could anyone not like such a peerless talent?"

Tang Xiujin was greatly pleased.

It seems he's almost certain to pass the first exam of the spring imperial examination, which he meticulously designed!

His most valued student has already secured the top spot in the provincial examination. The chances of other candidates writing two essays on "Protecting the Nation" are extremely slim!
Because you cannot repeat questions on the answer sheet, in addition to answering your own question, you also need to answer one of the other nine questions.

"Wonderful!"

Minister of Rites Wei Shili nodded in approval, saying, "Writing about the state is not difficult, writing about the northern frontier is not difficult; ultimately, there are some people who can write it."

But how could a scholar from Jiangnan, nurtured by the misty rains of the north, write a national-level poem about the northern frontier? It's too difficult!

I have never traveled to the northern frontier.
But after reading Jiang Sheng's poem "On a Mission to the Frontier," with its lines "A lone plume of smoke rises straight from the vast desert, the setting sun hangs round over the long river," the imagery of the northern frontier has been etched into my heart ever since!
This Minister also admires it!

Minister Wei of the Ministry of Rites, who had never set foot on the border, vaguely saw—a lone rider galloping away amidst the clouds and swirling yellow sand.

At Xiaoguan Pass, they encountered human cavalrymen who told them that the Protector-General was fighting on the front lines at Yanran Mountain—which is actually Langjuxu Mountain, the sacred mountain of the Wolf Demon Kingdom, one of the strongest demon kingdoms in the northern frontier.

"[At Xiaoguan Pass, a cavalryman was encountered; the Protector-General was at Yanran.] — A general on the frontier, the governor of the Great Zhou Dynasty, has marched to the sacred mountain of the wolf demons!"
The power and spirit of this sentence are unprecedented!

Even seasoned warriors from the northern frontier, upon hearing this, would likely tremble with excitement!

(End of this chapter)