Great Song Dynasty Writer

Chapter 16 A gentleman would rather die with a voice than live in silence
After hearing about the new reward, everyone was immediately excited.

The distinguished guests in the inner circle were all experienced people. After hearing this, they knew that Mr. Zhou was angry.

The bookseller surnamed Ji smiled outwardly, but he wasn't afraid. He simply said, "Then I'll contribute a little. As the ancients said, a single word is worth a thousand gold coins. I'm short of money and can't afford that price. Instead, I'm willing to pay 50 strings of cash as publishing fees."

As soon as these words fell, the hall suddenly became so quiet that one could hear the faint sound of burning agarwood in the Boshan furnace.

How long would it take for ordinary people to save up 50 strings of cash?
And it's not just a matter of money. This man is one of the largest booksellers in Zizhou Road. As long as his work is rated as the best, it won't take long for him to become famous in Shu!
Of course, Ji's father was also convinced that his son could win the first prize at the literary banquet, and he also had the intention of transferring the spoils from his left hand to his right hand.

Lu Guangyu's breathing became noticeably heavier: "Brother Lu, this..."

Faced with such a high reward, he, who originally felt hopeless, could not wait to pick up his pen and want to give it a try.

Lu Beigu was not in a hurry. He slowly sipped the "Fengqu Wine" in the cup, letting the mellow liquid flow on his tongue.

Ji's father's move was clearly adding fuel to the fire - the Zhou family raised the reward to save face, but the Ji family directly turned this literary banquet into a competition of real money.

What is the difference between this and "Shi Chong's competition of wealth"?

Thinking of this, Lu Beigu suddenly felt a little bored.

However, Lu Beigu's expression aroused some curiosity in Ji Yun, who had been observing him.

How could this poor student, who had always been copying at his desk, remain unmoved in the face of such a huge reward?

Soon, the atmosphere in the flower hall became heated.

Some people crumpled up the drafts of their poems, while others bit the pen and stared at the rice paper on the desk in a daze.

A thin layer of sweat had formed on Lu Guangyu's forehead, and the brush in his wrist was still touching the paper.

"Brother Lu, are you really not going to write?"

When he put down his pen and came over for the third time, Lu Beigu was using a silver knife to cut open the perfectly roasted lamb ribs.

The people of the Song Dynasty loved mutton the most. It was said that this mutton was transported from Qingtang Tubo. The meat was firm and fat. The amber-colored fat dripped from the tip of the knife and formed a small pool in the celadon plate.

"Write."

"What do you want to write?"

Lu Beigu suddenly put down his silver knife. "The seas are clear and the rivers are calm, and the world is at peace. How can I feel at peace if I don't write a novel to praise this scene?"

In fact, today's reading and feasting was quite enjoyable. Lu Beigu did not want to spoil anyone's fun or steal anyone's limelight. However, the competition of wealth between the two just now inevitably reminded him of the story of Jingu Garden.

What was the end of the Western Jin Dynasty? The Five Barbarians invaded China, and the Han people met in one pot!
How could this not make him think about what the end of the Northern Song Dynasty would be?

The Jingkang Shame! Two Emperors Leading Sheep! Yue Fei's Unjust Death at Fengbo Pavilion!

But that is seventy years from now. Who among those who are living a life of drunkenness and dreams now would believe that that is the future?
At this moment, Lu Beigu suddenly felt the helplessness of a great writer.

"Suppose there is an iron house without any windows and it is impossible to break it down. There are many people sleeping soundly inside. They will soon suffocate to death, but they will die from sleep and will not feel the sorrow of dying. Now you shout loudly and wake up a few people who are more awake, causing these unfortunate few to suffer the pain of irreparable death. Do you think you are doing them justice?"

Lu Beigu muttered to himself, "Whether it's right or not, as Fan Zhongyan said, 'A gentleman would rather die with a voice than live in silence,' I should at least make a noise."

Then he turned to the small table beside him and raised the wolf hair brush.

As for what to write, Lu Beigu didn't know now, but he was sure that he would know in the next second.

After all, writing an original classical Chinese novel is something you can do just by picking up a pen, right?

For someone as talented as Lu Beigu.

Asking him to be a plagiarist is an insult to him. He has as many inspirations as he wants. Sure enough, the next second he came up with inspiration.
I think it would be interesting to write a collection of stories about old people and stories collected in the market after the Jingkang Incident from the perspective of a future Song person who moved south.

I just don’t know if this would be considered an alternative “fantasy novel” for the people of the Song Dynasty at that time?
Shaking off the chaotic thoughts in his mind, Lu Beigu immersed himself in the story and carefully wrote the preface to the collection of stories.

"Preface to "Floating Life in Jiangzuo"

Since the Jianyan era, the sky has been covered with barbarian dust, and the Central Plains has been in turmoil. I took my family and crossed the river to the south. When we sailed on the river, I saw well-dressed men and women coming to visit me in a panic, and I heard cries all night long.

When I arrived in Lin'an, I lived in Yanqiao Lane. The market gradually became as bustling as before, but among the wine flags and singing, there were often people in the alleys holding broken zithers and talking about the old days of Xuanhe. Whenever I heard the northern dialect, I would cover my sleeves and could not respond.

Alas! To the left of the great Yangtze River, with its misty waters and hazy air, is this really a place to escape from Qin?
Even peddlers and porters would turn pale when talking about the Jin army's cavalry; in brothels and mansions, people would still sing the lyrics of "Smoke Willows and Painted Bridges". The sorrows and joys here were all as fleeting as dew and lightning.

When I am at home, I have nothing to do, so I have recorded what I have seen and heard, which amount to twelve articles. Some may think that they are just fiction and have no value in history books.

Moreover, at this time when mountains and rivers are collapsing and millions of people are displaced, my body is like a floating duckweed, so why should I talk about reality or illusion?
In the winter of the ninth year of Shaoxing, on a snowy night in Qiantang, I wrote this by lamplight.

When Ji Yun saw that Lu Beigu finally started to write, he actually left his seat and came over to take a peek.

Fortunately, everyone knows that he is a lively person, so no one cares.

But not long after, someone noticed that the expression on Ji Yun's face became strange.

The relief he felt at first as the winner disappeared without a trace, and he started to become extremely serious. After watching for a while, tears actually fell from his eyes!
Everyone was shocked.

It is true that Ji Yun is a man of kind character, but what did this unknown scholar write to move Ji Yun so much?
Seeing Ji Yun crying, Zhou Mingyuan, who had lost face, didn't bother to laugh at him and walked over there.

Zhou Mingyuan had just walked three steps behind Lu Beigu when he was suddenly stopped by Ji Yun with his arm across.

The boy's eyes were still red, but his deep voice was as cold as ice: "If you want to review it, it won't be too late to circulate it after the ink is dry."

These words caused several distinguished guests in the inner circle to stand up and look around.

Father Ji stroked his beard and whispered, "My son has been naughty since he was young, and it's rare to find an article that could silence him."

Just like that, everyone was waiting eagerly, waiting for Lu Beigu to stop writing.

After a cup of tea, Lu Beigu had written a total of five pages of preface and put down his wolf hair brush.

He raised his head and looked around, only then did he realize that dozens of eyes in the hall were focused on him. Ji Yun stood in front of the desk with red eyes.

"Brother, this is my article," Ji Yun said in a slightly hoarse voice. "Could you please allow me to read it in its entirety?"

Lu Beigu hesitated for a moment and handed over the rice paper.

Ji Yun took the five pages, but did not rush to examine them. Instead, he turned to the inner circle and said aloud, "My dear elders, this piece, 'Floating Life in Jiangzuo,' is not poetry, but a novel. However, it has profound ideas and brilliant literary talent. I believe it should be the best piece today."

Upon hearing this, Wen Yan was suddenly shocked.

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① Take the wife and children with you.

② All night long, that is, all night long.

③The place to avoid Qin, the allusion comes from "Peach Blossom Spring", referring to the place to avoid war.

④No slang, that is, boring.

⑤ "Wubi" means of no help. "Cheng" is the name of the history book of Jin State in the Spring and Autumn Period. Later, "Shicheng" was used to refer to historical books in general.

(End of this chapter)