Great Zhou Wensheng

Chapter 246: The Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion! Wine, please! [The Book Spreads Throughout the World]! (4th Update)

Inside the Wenhua Hall, incense smoke swirls, awaiting the examination questions.

The five Confucian scholars exchanged glances briefly, and after a silent exchange of polite refusals, they finally yielded to each other.

Finally, Li Wenyuan, the senior scholar and head of the Imperial Academy of the Great Zhou Dynasty, who held a leading position in education and culture, nodded slightly and stood up first.

He had a lean face and gentle, jade-like eyes, yet he possessed a profound wisdom that allowed him to see through the ways of the world.

He first bowed slightly to the Empress on her throne and everyone present, his voice calm yet clear as the tolling of an ancient bell, resonating clearly throughout every corner of the hall:
"Your Majesty, my colleagues."

"The examination of Grand Secretaries in the Hall of Fame is all-encompassing and as vast as the sea."

Astronomy, geography, classics, history, philosophy, and strategies for governing the country can all be included in the topic.

However…

He abruptly changed the subject, his gaze sweeping across the room like a warm current.

Finally, his gaze fell upon Jiang Xingzhou, who sat quietly like a mountain in the center of the main hall, his eyes carrying a kind of enlightened understanding born from experience and a return to simplicity:
"Since I was promoted to the rank of great Confucian scholar, I have read extensively and pondered the mysteries of heaven and earth."

I increasingly feel that all kinds of knowledge are as vast as the ocean, like building brick walls for a towering building that is about to rise from the ground. They are important and indispensable.

But how can a towering building rise from the ground?

At its most fundamental level, it lies in the foundation buried deep underground, the foundation that bears everything.

What is the foundation of literature and morality?

Li Wenyuan asked and answered himself, his voice suddenly becoming deep and resonant, as if carrying the weight of a thousand pounds.

"It is neither a collection of verses and classic texts to be memorized by rote, nor a collection of eloquent but empty pronouncements."

Rather, it is the source through which cultivators communicate with the talent and energy of heaven and earth, an invisible bridge for resonance between one's own literary palace and the vast literary traditions of the outside world!

He walked slowly into the hall, his wide sleeves fluttering gently with each step, as if touching the invisible literary energy flowing in the air and infusing it with life: "For example, this most basic way of calligraphy."

To the average person, it might seem like a trivial skill, a pastime for scholars.

In reality, it is not so; it contains hidden secrets and is a world apart.

Each stroke outlines not only the shape of Chinese characters, but also extends the writer's mind and will, and is a concrete manifestation of the Daoist spirit.

If, in the flow of the pen, one can draw upon the literary energy of the universe to dance and resonate with the profound Dao, then the power of this literary art in performing poetry, songs, and supernatural arts will be multiplied many times over.

This is the true meaning of "literature conveys the Way, and books convey literature!"

He surveyed the assembled civil and military officials, who stood there holding their breath, his tone carrying an unquestionable authority honed by time:

"Therefore, throughout history, almost all the great Confucian scholars and even those who attained sainthood had excellent calligraphy skills!"
Because his words already contained his unique understanding of literature and the Way, and his profound insights into the laws of heaven and earth.

Calligraphy, like a mirror, reflects the calmness or agitation of one's mind.

Like a window, one can glimpse the depth of its foundation!

Everyone in the hall, whether they were officials well-versed in literature or the other four great Confucian scholars, all showed thoughtful expressions and nodded slightly.

The words of the great Confucian scholar Li Wenyuan are insightful and profound, pointing directly to the core and fundamental aspects of literary cultivation. No one can refute them; all that remains is admiration.

After Li Wenyuan finished speaking, he turned to Jiang Xingzhou, who had been sitting quietly the whole time.

A calm yet meaningful smile appeared on his face, like an elder looking at a promising junior: "Jiang Hanlin, my first question will not test your complicated knowledge, but only whether your foundation is solid and your spirituality is sufficient."

As soon as he finished speaking, a flash of light appeared in his sleeve, and he took out a roll of jade paper of extraordinary quality, the color of solidified cream, and gently laid it on Jiang Xingzhou's desk.

Next, a seemingly simple and ordinary wolf-hair brush with a hidden brilliance was placed on the table, and an ancient inkstone with jet-black ink and a faint fragrance of orchid and musk was also prepared.

"My question is very simple,"

Li Wenyuan's voice echoed in the increasingly silent hall, drawing everyone's attention.
"Please invite Jiang Hanlin to compose a piece of calligraphy on the spot."

The subject matter is open, the content is up to you, and the font is entirely your choice.

He paused slightly, his gaze becoming as deep and unfathomable as a still pool, and slowly uttered the most crucial, yet also the most elusive, requirement:

"As long as... you can satisfy me, you will have passed my test."

"Wow——!"

These words were like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, startling everyone in the hall!
The officials, who had just been pondering the profound meaning of Li Wenyuan's words, suddenly couldn't help but let out a suppressed murmur of uproar!

Many people's faces were filled with astonishment and disbelief!

The exam question sounds incredibly simple—it's just about writing a piece of calligraphy!

But the final requirement... is to "satisfy this old man!"
These five seemingly simple words are a thousand times more difficult than any specific and extremely demanding question!
satisfaction?

What kind of words could satisfy a learned scholar, a master of literature and philosophy, and the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy?
Does it require such powerful strokes that they tear the back of the paper?
Is the structure so exquisitely intricate that it reaches the pinnacle?

Is it Shen Yun's transcendent and otherworldly quality?
Or must it contain some unique "Taoist charm" that is enough to trigger extraordinary phenomena in the heavens and earth?
What exactly is the standard of "satisfaction" in the mind of the great Confucian scholar Li Wenyuan?
No one knows!

This is a test question with no standard answer and no specific boundaries!

Its difficulty depends entirely on the subjective feelings and judgment criteria of the question setter, Li Wenyuan, at that moment, and is unfathomable!

If he was not satisfied, even if Jiang Xingzhou wrote amazing and divinely inspired characters, he could still point out the shortcomings from a higher level.
If he feels a sense of joy and a spark of inspiration, perhaps even a seemingly ordinary work can resonate with his true feelings and be approved.

This test goes far beyond the technical aspects of calligraphy; it directly examines the depth of Jiang Xingzhou's understanding of literature and the Way, the clarity of his moral character, and... that mysterious and profound question: whether he can achieve a spiritual "resonance" with the great Confucian scholar Li Wenyuan.

Everyone's hearts jumped into their throats instantly, their gazes drawn as if by a magnet, all focusing on Jiang Xingzhou's calm face.

This first test is so tricky and strange, it goes straight to the heart and tests the cultivator's most fundamental foundation and spirituality!
How will Jiang Xingzhou respond? Will he be able to write something that will "satisfy" Li Wenyuan?
Under the watchful eyes of countless tense, curious, and scrutinizing gazes, Jiang Xingzhou slowly opened his slightly closed eyes, his gaze clear and serene, without the slightest ripple.

He didn't immediately examine the precious paper and pen. Instead, he calmly rose, cupped his hands in a respectful bow to Li Wenyuan, who had posed the question, and spoke in a steady voice:

"Students, take the questions."

Jiang Xingzhou then sat down again, took a deep breath, a long and deep breath that seemed to absorb all the literary atmosphere in the hall.

Then, his gaze finally fell entirely on the smooth, mirror-like jade-like paper in front of him.

In an instant, his entire aura became as calm as water and as deep as an abyss.

It was as if all connections with the outside world had been severed in an instant, and one had entered a mysterious state where one was oblivious to the world and the self, and only the paper and pen were connected with one's Dao heart.

As soon as Li Wenyuan uttered the words "satisfaction is all that matters," the Wenhua Hall fell into an absolute silence.

Empress Wu Mingyue's phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, and her slender fingertips unconsciously tapped lightly on the dragon carvings on the armrest of the dragon throne, producing a barely audible tapping sound that revealed her inner caution.

The four great Confucian scholars at the lower seat, including Lu Mingde and Dong Xian, also had solemn expressions, their brows slightly furrowed, each stroking their beards in deep thought, their hearts churning with unspoken emotions.

These four seemingly simple characters are as heavy as a mountain and as deep as the sea. They have transcended the judgment of ordinary brush and ink techniques and point directly to the mysterious and ineffable realm of "Taoist charm" and "divine intent".

Even if they themselves exhausted their life's cultivation, how could they dare to say that they could reach a state that would "satisfy" great Confucian scholars of the same literary rank?
In the center of the main hall, Jiang Xingzhou closed his eyes and concentrated, his body as still as an ancient pine tree, as if isolating himself from all the noise, gazes, and even the invisible pressure around him.

At this moment, he was not thinking about the details of stroke structure and composition, but was making a crucial decision—Li Wenyuan's question forced him to reveal his hidden trump card in advance.

That was something he intended to rely on when he was about to break through to the level of a Great Confucian Scholar or even a Half-Saint. Using it now was a bit premature.

After a moment of silence, Jiang Xingzhou suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze clear as autumn water, yet carrying a resolute gleam of determination, as if he had already made a do-or-die decision.

He did not immediately go to the desk to pick up a pen as everyone expected, but instead turned slightly to face the palace maid standing beside him. His voice was not loud, but clear enough for everyone in the hall to hear clearly:

"Bring the wine!"

The moment those two words left my lips, it was as if a giant rock had been thrown into a calm, deep pool, instantly creating a thousand waves!

"Wow——!"

The main hall, which had just fallen silent due to the pressure from the great Confucian scholar, suddenly erupted into an uncontrollable commotion!
Almost all the officials had expressions of astonishment and disbelief on their faces.

This is the solemn and majestic Wenhua Hall, the final examination hall for determining future Grand Secretaries of the Hall!

The examiner had just given a question about boycotting the exam, and the candidate, instead of thinking about how to answer, dared to openly demand fine wine.

This is an absolutely outrageous and unprecedented act!
A Ministry of Rites official in a scarlet robe could no longer contain himself. He suddenly stepped out of the ranks, his hair and beard bristling, and shouted angrily:

"Lord Jiang! How dare you be so insolent!"
This is the Wenhua Temple, a sacred place where the emperor is present, great Confucian scholars stand by, and the transmission of literature and the Way is carried on!

How dare you be so arrogant and unruly, openly demanding wine and tarnishing the reputation of our culture!

"Exactly! This is a crucial assessment site, not a tavern or teahouse! What kind of behavior is this!"

"This act is an utter disgrace to the imperial court and a blatant disregard for propriety!"

A chorus of agreement and criticism rose and fell, the crowd was in an uproar, and their gazes were sharp as knives and swords, all focused on the figure in the blue robe standing in the hall.

However, just as this uproar was getting out of control...

A calm yet imbued voice, carrying with it an undeniable authority and the power of the laws of literature, resounded like a great bell, steadily drowning out all the noise:
"shut up."

The one who spoke out was none other than the one who set the question, the great Confucian scholar Li Wenyuan.

Just two words, yet they seemed to carry an invisible power, instantly cleansing the entire hall.

All the commotion ceased abruptly. The officials, who had been indignant, turned pale as if an invisible hand had gripped their throats. They hurriedly bowed their heads, silent as cicadas in winter, and dared not utter another sound.

The aura of a great Confucian scholar has reached such a level!
Li Wenyuan didn't even glance at the officials; his deep, ancient gaze remained fixed on Jiang Xingzhou the entire time.

Strangely, when he heard that Jiang Xingzhou had asked for wine, he showed no anger whatsoever. Instead, a faint hint of appreciation flickered in his usually calm eyes.

He stroked his long beard, his voice slow yet powerful, echoing in the suddenly silent hall:
"Oh?

Before the assessment even begins, they're already asking for drinks?
This kind of behavior reminds me of the unrestrained and romantic spirit of ancient scholars…!

He paused briefly, a glint of light flashing in his eyes, and then began to recite:
In your poem "Jiang Cheng Zi: Hunting in Mizhou", didn't you write, "In my cups, my heart and courage are still open"?

it is good!
Such heroic spirit deserves a drink to accompany it!

Instead of rebuking him, he expressed his sincere agreement and even casually quoted Jiang Xingzhou's own words as evidence!

He then turned to the eunuch standing to the side, his tone calm yet authoritative:

"Bring me the wine! I want the finest vintage, aged the longest and with the most mellow flavor from the palace cellars!"

Then, he looked at Jiang Xingzhou again, and a rare glint of joy, as if he had met a kindred spirit, appeared in his eyes. He laughed loudly:

"However, drinking alone is no fun, is it the way of a gentleman?"

If you can truly write a piece of calligraphy today that will impress me wholeheartedly and earn my utmost praise.

"Let alone this jar of wine, even if I were to risk my life to keep you company and get drunk with you for three days and three nights in this Wenhua Hall, what harm would it do!"

Upon hearing this, the entire hall was shocked, and everyone almost doubted their own ears!

The great scholar Li Wenyuan not only did not stop this "absurd" behavior, but also took the initiative to offer to drink with the examinee!

This has completely transcended the framework of ordinary assessments; it is more like an upcoming grand event of literary gatherings and wine celebrations, a timeless and elegant affair!

The palace eunuchs dared not be negligent and soon presented a jar of aged, mud-sealed wine with a subtle aroma, along with two warm and translucent jade cups.

Li Wenyuan personally got up and reached out to break the mud seal.

Instantly, a rich, mellow, and refreshing aroma of wine permeated the entire hall.

He personally poured two cups of amber-colored nectar, handing one to Jiang Xingzhou and keeping the other for himself.

"please!"

Li Wenyuan raised his glass in invitation, his eyes gleaming.

"Sir please!"

Jiang Xingzhou accepted the jade cup with both hands, his expression calm and without any fear, and tilted his head back to drink the strong liquor in one gulp.

The spicy yet mellow liquor, mixed with a touch of literary elegance, is like a fiery line that plunges straight into the lower abdomen, instantly transforming into a surging warm current that rushes through the limbs and bones.

It was as if it had instantly ignited some mysterious energy dormant deep within his literary palace, making the brilliance in his eyes even more radiant and clear, and a subtle, almost imperceptible literary energy began to circulate around him.

After finishing the cup, Jiang Xingzhou slammed the jade cup heavily onto the desk beside him, making a crisp "clang" that lingered in the air.

He said no more, took a deep breath of the air filled with the aroma of wine, and his entire demeanor suddenly changed dramatically!

The previous calm and restraint vanished in an instant, replaced by a unique aura that intertwined a domineering and unrestrained passion with an extremely focused and calm demeanor.

He stepped forward steadily, reached out, and firmly grasped the fine wolf-hair brush that had been prepared beforehand.

The brush tip, fully dipped in thick ink, hangs on the snow-white, jade-like, and mirror-like Xuan paper, remaining still and unyielding.

At that moment, everyone in the entire Wenhua Hall, from Empress Wu Mingyue to the palace maids and eunuchs standing by, held their breath.

The empress unconsciously leaned her delicate body forward slightly.

The four Confucian scholars' eyes were sharp and fixed on the pen that was poised to strike.

The officials stared wide-eyed, afraid of missing any subtle movement.

What earth-shattering, unparalleled strokes will Jiang Xingzhou's shocking "using wine to enhance the mood" produce on this blank sheet of paper, enough to satisfy the great Confucian scholar?

Jiang Xingzhou downed a glass of strong liquor, and a faint blush instantly rose on his face, like plum blossoms falling on snow, adding to his dashing appearance.

However, his eyes became even clearer, his gaze as bright as stars. He showed no signs of drunkenness, but instead brought out his inherent unrestrained and wild nature to its fullest extent.

Without further hesitation, he firmly grasped the large wolf-hair brush, which was soaked in thick ink, with his arm suspended and wrist focused, and lightly pressed the brush tip three inches above the smooth, mirror-like jade paper.

Even before the pen touched the paper, an overwhelming and unstoppable surge of talent emanated from his fingertips.

Like smoke and mist, it lingers around the sandalwood brush handle and the tip of the wolf hair brush.

It emitted a faint, rustling sound, like a silkworm eating leaves, causing the surrounding air to tremble.

He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slightly.

It was as if the fragrant aroma of wine, the refreshing scent of ink, and even the literary energy of heaven and earth that gathered here in the darkness were all drawn into the dantian and the sea of ​​qi.

The next moment, his eyes flashed with a sharp light, and the pen strokes that had been gathering momentum fell like a boulder falling from a mountain!
"Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion"

The four-character title is written in one breath, with immense power!

"In the ninth year of Yonghe, the year of Guichou, at the beginning of late spring, we gathered at the Orchid Pavilion in Shanyin, Kuaiji, to perform the purification ritual..."

The brushstrokes on the paper are truly like dragons and snakes racing, and phoenixes gathering in flight!
The variations in ink density and dryness are endless; between the dots and strokes, a myriad of emotions arise.

At this moment, Jiang Xingzhou felt completely at peace, his mind clear and serene. It was as if he had transcended a thousand years of time and space, and had a profound spiritual resonance with the calligraphy master who had been writing freely at the foot of Mount Kuaiji.

Sometimes he would concentrate and ponder, his brushstrokes steady and restrained, like an old monk in meditation, outlining the serene elegance of the Orchid Pavilion's winding stream and the graceful silhouettes of lush forests and tall bamboos within a small space.

At times, his passion surged, and he wielded his brush with the force of the Yangtze River, flowing like a mighty river, vividly depicting the grand scene of scholars gathering, young and old converging, composing poems over flowing wine cups, as if it were right before our eyes.

He was completely immersed in a state of blissful oblivion, where he could “look up at the vastness of the universe and down at the abundance of all things, so that his eyes could roam freely and his mind could be filled with the pleasures of sight and sound.”

Inside the main hall, strange phenomena were occurring one after another!
As his brushstrokes, imbued with Daoist principles, moved across the flawless white jade paper, what remained were no longer simple ink marks, but rather a dazzling brilliance of talent bursting forth! That brilliance was not a single color, but a seven-colored radiance containing the ultimate truths of heaven and earth and the essence of literature, flowing and swirling, like a dream.

Amidst the radiant light, everyone in the hall felt as if they were there: they felt a gentle, intoxicating spring breeze caressing their faces, bringing the fresh scent of sprouting plants;

The sound of clear spring water hitting rocks and the rustling of leaves in the bamboo forest blend together to create a harmonious melody, a natural and elegant music.

Jiang Xingzhou's figure and brushstrokes were in harmony. His blue robe billowed slightly in the wind, and his posture while holding the brush was sometimes like a carefree cloud or a wild crane, detached from worldly affairs.
At other times, it leaps like a dragon into the abyss, agile and graceful, full of power and beauty.

From Empress Wu Mingyue down to the palace maids and eunuchs standing in the corner, everyone in the hall held their breath and listened intently.

My gaze was drawn to the pen as if by a magnet, following it intently as if it had been given life and soul, afraid that even the slightest breath would disturb this creative process that seemed to be possessed by a ghost or a god, as if heaven and earth were working together.

Jiang Xingzhou wrote and recited simultaneously, his voice rising and falling with the rhythm of his brushstrokes, resonating with the emotions expressed in his writing.
"The relationship between a lady and her husband lasts a lifetime."

Or perhaps one can find solace in one's own heart and converse freely within the confines of a room;
Perhaps because they entrust themselves to something, they indulge in unrestrained behavior...

Its sound is sometimes clear and passionate, like singing a song from a high place, expressing one's feelings.

Sometimes it is low and melodious, like a midnight whisper, full of emotion.

Especially when the pen reaches the line, "It is indeed known that regarding life and death as one is a fallacy, and equating a long life with a short one is a delusion," a line full of philosophical reflection and existential questions,

His brushstrokes exhibited an extremely subtle pause, his brows were tightly furrowed, and his eyes were as deep as an ancient well, as if his soul had detached from its shell and was engaging in a profound dialogue with ancient sages about the mysteries of life and death and the eternity of the universe.

After a moment of pause and contemplation, his gaze suddenly cleared, as if the clouds had parted to reveal the sun.

The pen once again flowed freely, carrying a deeper and more profound sigh, writing:
"Those who come after will view us as we view those who came before. How tragic!"

This cry of "Alas!" slowly escaped his throat, no longer a simple recitation of words, but a profound sense of desolation and the impermanence of life, a sentiment shared by scholars throughout the ages.

Like the evening drum and the morning bell, it struck heavily on the hearts of every listener, leaving them with a sense of sorrow and endless contemplation.

When the last character "文" (wen), carrying endless emotions, landed steadily on the paper like a rock.

Jiang Xingzhou finally let out a long sigh, as if he had poured all the pent-up emotions, surging passion, and boundless talent in his heart onto this piece of paper without reservation.

He gently put down the brush, which seemed to weigh a ton, and his body swayed almost imperceptibly, revealing the exhaustion he felt after his talent and spirit had been severely depleted.

But his eyes were surprisingly bright.

Like the brightest star in the darkest night, burning with the radiance of satisfaction and transcendence.

Just then, the sunlight outside the hall had already poured out its last magnificent colors. A golden afterglow, pure and warm, seemed to be guided by an invisible force, and shone precisely through the carved window lattice, enveloping the newly completed calligraphy of the "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion".

In an instant, a miracle occurred!

The entire piece of calligraphy seemed to have been infused with a final soul, and every character seemed to come alive.

No longer static ink marks, but beginning to flow with a soft and sacred golden halo, the colorful talent on the paper blends seamlessly with the sunset glow on the horizon, making the whole hall shine, as if a miracle has descended!

"Boom—Crack!"

The moment Jiang Xingzhou gently placed the wolf-hair brush on the brush mountain, a sudden change occurred!

The once clear blue sky above the capital city of Luoyang was suddenly shrouded in dark clouds, turning it black and inky in an instant!
The thick, leaden clouds were like an endless sea of ​​ink, overlapping and surging, their momentum like a thousand troops trampling the sky.

Deep within the clouds, billions of blinding silver lightning bolts surged, intertwined, and exploded wildly, emitting a continuous, thunderous roar that shook the heavens!

A vast and boundless pressure from heaven and earth, enough to make one's soul tremble, suddenly descended, like an invisible giant hand, firmly gripping the entire capital city. All things fell silent, and all living beings held their breath.

Immediately afterwards, under the gaze of countless horrified eyes both inside and outside the imperial city.

A bolt of lightning, as thick as a palace pillar, dazzlingly bright, and imbued with an aura of destruction, seemed to be drawn by an invisible will. It fiercely tore through the dark sky, piercing through heaven and earth, and went straight to the dome of the Wenhua Hall!
"Protect His Majesty! Protect His Majesty!"

The hall erupted in screams and panic as guards instinctively rushed forward, creating an atmosphere of extreme tension.

However, the target of that majestic heavenly aura was not any one person in the hall, but rather—the "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion," whose ink had just begun to solidify and still radiated a shimmering glow!
Bang!
With a strange roar, not a pure explosion but a violent infusion of energy, a blazing bolt of lightning struck the jade tablet on the table with perfect precision!

The expected flying paper scraps and charred, carbonized paper did not materialize.

An unbelievable scene unfolded:

The violent power of the thunder, which was enough to shatter mountains and split rocks, was completely absorbed by the newly created calligraphy the moment it touched the paper, just like all rivers flowing into the sea and sweet rain nourishing all things.

Having absorbed the essence of thunder, the "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion" instantly shone with brilliance, illuminating the entire hall to the point that it was impossible to look directly at it!
Every word on the paper seemed to be given a real life.

Freed from the constraints of the flat surface, it floats slightly in the light, appearing even more agile and extraordinary, with a captivating charm.

Deep within the original ink-black depths, faint purple-gold lightning bolts now danced like dragons, and a majestic Daoist aura, ancient and boundless, immortal and indestructible, breathing and sharing the fate of heaven and earth, spread like a tide, filling every inch of the Wenhua Hall.

Forged in the crucible of heavenly thunder, literary courage is naturally forged!
When a divine object is born, its radiance naturally arises!
At this moment, the Wenhua Hall fell into an absolute, deathly silence.

Time seemed to stand still, and the air was as heavy as mercury.

Everyone was stunned by this extraordinary phenomenon that defied imagination and subverted common sense. They were speechless and even forgot to breathe.

On the throne of the great Confucian scholar, Li Wenyuan could no longer maintain his composure.

He suddenly stood up from his seat, his body slightly staggering from extreme excitement.

His wise eyes, which had seen through the ways of the world, were wide open at this moment, staring intently and unblinkingly at the calligraphic masterpiece that had moved the heavens and been born of lightning, as if he wanted to imprint it into the depths of his soul.

His lips trembled uncontrollably, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. After a long while, he murmured in a trembling voice, a mixture of disbelief, ecstatic awe, and even a hint of sob, almost like a dream:
"It is the will of Heaven... This is the will of Heaven! This... This is no longer human calligraphy... This is... a sacred miracle witnessed by Heaven and Earth! It is an immortal monument manifested by the Way of Literature!"

Just as everyone in the Wenhua Hall was still reeling from the terrifying phenomenon of the lightning tempering the script, unable to recover their senses.

Boom-!
A vast, resounding bell, seemingly from the primordial era and spanning the long river of time, suddenly and unexpectedly rang out from the direction of the most sacred place in Luoyang City—the Confucian Temple!

This bell was no ordinary sound of metal; its tone was majestic and dignified, containing a powerful force that could cleanse the soul and inspire thought, instantly overwhelming the city's clamor and astonishment.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!..."

The bell tolled continuously, unhurriedly, yet each ring was like a heavy hammer, striking the hearts of all scholars and all living beings in Luojing and the surrounding areas!

Exactly seven shots!
Seven chimes!

The sound waves, like tangible yet intangible golden ripples, spread outwards from the Confucian Temple, instantly engulfing the entire city of Luoyang within a radius of a hundred miles, and even extending towards the more distant suburban mountains!
When the bell tolled, all was silent.

The bustling city suddenly fell silent, and the noisy chatter ceased abruptly.

The students in the academy stopped reciting, and the ink slipped from their fingers;
The scholar, who was in seclusion in the deep mansion, suddenly opened his eyes in shock, his mind surging with excitement and unable to control himself... Regardless of gender, age, or cultivation level, everyone who heard this bell was shaken to their core and subconsciously stopped what they were doing.

Their faces showed disbelief, horror, and awe, and their eyes all turned to the direction from which the bell sounded—the Imperial Palace, the Wenhua Hall!
"The bell of the Confucian Temple is ringing! It's the sacred bell of the Confucian Temple ringing on its own!"

Seven shots! A full seven shots!

"Lord Jiang is currently practicing calligraphy in the Wenhua Hall! It will be known throughout the world! A world-renowned masterpiece of calligraphy has been born!"

"The Imperial Palace! It's in the direction of the Wenhua Hall! It's the test subject for Lord Jiang Xingzhou!"

"Heavens! It's actually 'Calligraphy Spreads Throughout the World'! How many years has it been since our Great Zhou has witnessed such a grand event!"

After a brief, deathly silence, stunned by the sound of the bells, the entire city of Luoyang erupted into a frenzy, as if it had been plunged into boiling oil!
Exclamations, shouts, and ecstatic cheers rose into the sky, converging into a sea of ​​excitement!

The ringing of the bell at the Confucian Temple is the highest recognition and celebration of this magnificent work and immortal masterpiece by the rules of literature and culture in this world!

The seven rings are an undeniable sign that the "World-Sharing" literary treasure has been born!
This means that the "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion," which was just created in the Wenhua Hall, has transcended the limitations of its time and broken through the barriers of its territory. It is enough to shine for eternity, be remembered for generations to come, and enlighten countless future generations!

Inside the Wenhua Hall, the officials, who had just experienced the baptism of heavenly thunder, had not yet fully recovered from the shock of the heavenly might when they were suddenly struck by the seven tolls of the Confucian Temple bell, which almost made their souls leave their bodies!
After a brief period of extreme silence, an uproar erupted that was far more intense and frenzied than that outside the city!

"It will be passed down through the world! It truly is a timeless literary treasure!"

"Calligraphy! It is Lord Jiang's calligraphy that has reached the level of being known throughout the world!"

"Heaven blesses the Great Zhou! The spirit of literature and scholarship favors our dynasty! This is an auspicious sign of a prosperous era!"

The wave of excitement and elation subsided slightly.

The gazes of everyone were more fervent, devout, and even filled with a sense of pilgrimage than ever before.

Let's focus once again on the scroll of the "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion," which floats quietly in the air, its brilliance enhanced by the absorption of lightning, yet exuding an immortal and undying aura.

With Empress Wu Mingyue giving a slight nod of approval, several elderly and venerable members of the imperial family, all with white hair and beards, along with three great Confucian scholars, Lu Mingde and Dong Xian, who were still able to maintain their composure, were able to approach cautiously and take turns to observe and pass the book around.

Li Wenyuan was so excited that his hair and beard trembled. He stood there, staring at the scroll of sacred relics with fascination, as if he had entered a state of enlightenment.

Upon closer inspection, these knowledgeable elders and scholars were even more amazed and almost knelt down in reverence!
The entire text consists of twenty-eight lines and three hundred and twenty-four characters. Each character seems not to have been written, but rather to be a naturally formed Dao pattern, as smooth as a pearl, as radiant as a beautiful jade, with inner brilliance and self-sufficient spirituality.
Between the lines, the energy flows smoothly and the ideas are connected, as if an invisible river of life is quietly flowing on the paper, never ceasing.

The overall layout is ingenious, with a space that allows a horse to gallop through, yet a density that is impenetrable, like a starry river scattered across the chessboard, subtly conforming to the rhythm of the heavens.
As for his brushwork, it has long since reached the realm of skill approaching the Tao, transcending the ordinary and entering sainthood. The beginning and ending of the strokes, the turns and connections, are all like a butcher carving up an ox, with the skillful stopping and the spirit moving, perfectly natural, without the slightest trace of human effort.

Its exquisite structure and vibrant spirit have completely transcended the technical level of calligraphy, reaching a supreme realm of harmony with the Tao!

The great Confucian scholar Zheng Shouchang stretched out his slightly trembling fingers, gently tracing the ink marks on the paper that seemed to still be breathing, brimming with the vitality of thunder. His long, snow-white beard trembled with excitement, finally turning into a heartfelt, resounding sigh:

"The power of ghosts and gods!"
This is truly a work of unfathomable genius!

When Jiang wrote this book, he must have been completely focused and free from all worries, his mind, body, and even the world around him were in perfect harmony!

The brushstrokes are no longer driven by the wrist, but rather by the flow of divine will, a natural expression of the Dao!

His gaze was intense as he looked at Jiang Xingzhou, whose breathing had gradually calmed and whose face appeared even more otherworldly. His voice was filled with unwavering affirmation and admiration:
"It was that perfect touch of intoxication that helped him completely cleanse himself of worldly worries, abandon all thoughts of gain and loss, and not be bound by the skill or clumsiness of brushstrokes."

Only when pure sincerity and a boundless literary spirit intertwine can one resonate with heaven and earth, be tempered by lightning, and ultimately create this masterpiece—unacceptable to the world, reaching the very source of the Great Dao!

Upon hearing this, Lu Mingde slowly emerged from the overwhelming shock.

He stroked his long beard, his eyes gleaming with a profound wisdom, his voice deep and powerful:
"Zheng Gong's insight is astute; his words hit the nail on the head!"
This realm is the ultimate and wonderful state of 'harmony between man and nature' that we literati dream of!

According to Taoist metaphysics, this is "doing nothing yet accomplishing everything," which is in accordance with the natural way.

From the perspective of Buddhist Zen, it means "one should abide nowhere and yet give rise to the mind," and in the state of emptiness and stillness, one suddenly sees the true nature of reality.

It was precisely in this wondrous state of mind—a state of complete absorption, detachment from self, and communion with the Dao—that Jiang Hanlin's calligraphy transcended the constraints of form, reaching the very essence of the universe and achieving this awe-inspiring, divinely inspired masterpiece!

Li Wenyuan could no longer contain himself. He practically pounced on the desk, his body trembling slightly, and brought his eyes very close, staring intently at the flowing ink between the lines.

He murmured almost in a dreamlike state, each word filled with the ecstatic joy of discovering a priceless treasure:
"Wonderful!
Wonderful!

Amazing!

Amazing!

Look, look at this entire text, there are a full twenty instances of the character '之'!

His finger hovered over the scroll of paper, trembling slightly with excitement.
“Each piece is unique in form, none of them are alike, and none are vulgar!”

Or like a beautiful woman adorning herself with flowers, graceful and charming;
Or like a valiant warrior wielding a spear, bold and unrestrained;
Or like a secluded orchid holding dew, reserved and unassuming;
Or like a cloud drifting from a mountain peak, free and unrestrained.

Ever-changing, with a myriad of weather conditions, each possessing vibrant life and unique charm!
Such mastery transcends ordinary brush and ink techniques; it has truly approached the realm of Dao, touching the very edge of the laws of heaven and earth!

Finally, the scroll of the "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion," which had been tempered by heavenly thunder and won the seven ringing of the bell in the Confucian Temple, was carefully presented to Empress Wu Mingyue on the throne by the chief eunuch with the utmost respect and piety.

The Empress extended her slender hand, her fingers, which were usually as steady as a mountain and held the reins of power, now trembled slightly, as if they were about to touch not paper, but a living, breathing object.

She took it gently, her phoenix eyes lowered. The moment her gaze touched the paper, it was as if she were being firmly drawn in by an invisible vortex, unable to look away even a fraction.

The words exude a magnanimous and transcendent spirit, and reveal a profound insight and detached understanding of the rise and fall of life and the eternity of the universe.

In particular, the magnificent and immortal literary aura that permeated it intertwined with a melody that struck straight to the soul, causing even an emperor who was accustomed to the wonders of the world and held supreme power to be captivated and intoxicated.

From a young age, she read extensively. After ascending the throne, she explored the palace's secret collection, carefully studying the works of past sages, the original calligraphy of great scholars, and even the few remaining works of semi-saints. Among them were many exquisite and powerful masterpieces.

However, none of the paintings could bring her such a profound shock and resonance from the depths of her soul as this "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion" in her hand!

The artistic and philosophical realm reached in this post is, in her mind, an unparalleled pinnacle that is unprecedented and unlikely to be surpassed in the future!

She lovingly stroked the edge of the rolled-up paper, its warm touch seemingly carrying the warmth and spirit left by the writer.

After a long while, she finally raised her eyes, her gaze piercing through the palace and landing on Jiang Xingzhou, who stood quietly below, his expression seemingly calm.

Her deep phoenix eyes shimmered with an irrepressible admiration, and a hint of... the unquestionable possessiveness befitting an emperor.

She parted her lips slightly, her voice deliberately soft, yet carrying an innate authority and an unyielding firmness:

"Jiang Aiqing..."

"This 'Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion' can be described as a masterpiece of natural beauty, unparalleled throughout history, and I am very pleased with it."

"I wonder if... you could lend it to me temporarily, so I can take it back to the palace and savor it carefully for three days?"

"Borrow...three days?"

Upon hearing this, Jiang Xingzhou was slightly taken aback, then a faint, subtle smile, a mixture of surprise and helplessness, appeared on his lips, and he instantly understood.

borrow?
Under the whole world, could it be the king's land.

On the shore of the land, could it be the king's ministers?

These words came from the mouth of an emperor who ruled the world, especially when speaking of such a newly created, extraordinary artifact that had caused celestial phenomena and was considered a national treasure—a "World-Class" artifact!
The meaning of the word "borrow" is quite profound and thought-provoking.

This clearly shows that the person liked it to the extreme, but was concerned about the relationship between the ruler and his subjects, so he couldn't ask for it directly and used such a subtle and indirect way.

Once this precious treasure is "borrowed" into the inner palace, will it be able to be returned intact three days later?

I fear it's like a fish falling into a deep abyss, with no hope of ever returning!

However, the emperor's command is as firm as a mountain, and the wrath of the emperor is unpredictable, especially when it is done under the guise of "borrowing" but in reality for "refined appreciation".

Jiang Xingzhou smiled bitterly to himself, but on the surface he had to maintain a respectful demeanor, bowing calmly and responding in a steady voice:

"Your Majesty flatters me; I am unworthy of such praise."

"If Your Majesty would be so kind as to appreciate this humble work, it would be my greatest honor."

Your Majesty may take it for your perusal; there is no need to mention 'borrowing' it.

"If I need it in the future, I will go and get it again!"

Upon hearing this, Empress Wu Mingyue's stunningly beautiful face blossomed into a radiant and contented smile, as if a spring breeze had melted away a thousand miles of frozen ice.

She said no more, but with utmost care, as if protecting a rare pearl, she gently rolled up the "Preface to the Poems Composed at the Orchid Pavilion" and held it solemnly in her hands, as if she were holding the very symbol of the great Zhou dynasty's literary and cultural destiny.

A moment later, as if remembering the assessment, she turned her gaze to Li Wenyuan, who was still lost in the beauty of calligraphy, his expression dazed. Her voice regained its imperial clarity:

"Minister Li, regarding Hanlin Jiang's calligraphy assessment..."

The great scholar Li Wenyuan was jolted back to reality by this voice, and his whole body shuddered.

He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his turbulent emotions, and turned to face Jiang Xingzhou. He straightened his clothes, solemnly bowed deeply, and spoke with heartfelt admiration and respect, completely devoid of any of the reserve one would expect from an examiner.

"Passed...it's more than just passed!"

"Jiang Hanlin's calligraphy is no longer a test piece; it is truly a monument to the literary and artistic traditions of our Great Zhou Dynasty. No, it is a monument to the art of calligraphy throughout the world, a peak that future generations will find difficult to surpass!"

"I am completely convinced and utterly humbled!"

Tonight, I must have a good drink with Brother Jiang, until we're completely drunk!
-
PS: 10,000 words updated, Day 4!
(End of this chapter)