The Great Song Dynasty: You were put in charge of teaching, and you produced a whole bunch of prime

Three days later, the bugle call sounded again at the examination hall.

If the first round of classical studies was a "death struggle" to test one's inner strength, then this second round of poetry is a "show of skill" to test one's talent.

In the Song Dynasty's imperial examinations, poetry and prose accounted for a huge proportion. After all, the emperor and the scholar-officials all felt that how could someone who couldn't even write poetry be a qualified official with taste and aesthetic sense?

Su Shi sat in his examination cell, rubbed his face which had been stiffened by the cold wind, and picked up the examination questions that had just been handed out.

The title consists of only one word: 【Spring】.

Requirements: Compose a seven-character regulated verse, with rhyme scheme of your choice.

A suppressed sigh suddenly filled the cell. This question was like giving a chef a potato and asking him to cook a dish fit for a state banquet.

The simpler the question, the harder it is to stand out.

Throughout history, there have been countless poems about spring, if not hundreds of thousands. "The spring breeze has turned the south bank of the Yangtze River green again," "A riot of colors heralds spring"... all the best phrases and expressions have been exhausted by the ancients. For today's test-takers to write something original is practically harder than asking a sow to fly.

Su Shi laughed, a laugh like a cat that had just stolen some fish.

He reached into his robes and touched the empty red brocade pouch through his clothes. Although the pouch was empty, every word on the piece of paper his master had left inside was etched into his mind like a brand.

……

[Flashback]

Runzhou Academy, Special Training Room.

Jiang Lin held a pointer and pointed at the bare tree trunks outside the window.

"What's the most taboo thing to write about when writing about spring?" Jiang Lin asked.

"Avoid piling up flowery phrases!" Jiang Lin asked himself, answering his own question. "Don't give me those clichéd phrases like 'a hundred flowers blooming in competition' or 'orioles singing and swallows dancing.' That's elementary school students making sentences, not the poetry of a great Song Dynasty scholar."

"Sir, how should it be written?" Su Shi asked.

"Use the camera lens."

Jiang Lin made a gesture of holding a camera (although Su Shi didn't understand it, he thought it was very impressive), "Don't write 'Spring is beautiful,' write 'What did you see?' Use synesthesia, use metaphors, bring the static scenery to life!"

"For example, what do the clouds look like? Like hats. What does the sun look like? Like a gong. What are the peach blossoms doing? They're laughing."

"Zizhan, remember the 'demonstration poem' I prepared for you. It's from later generations... cough cough, it's a masterpiece I obtained in a dream. If you encounter a topic about 'spring,' write it with this imagery, and shock the examiners out of their wits!"

……

The memory ends.

Su Shi took a deep breath and dipped his brush in ink.

He didn't need to rack his brains to find allusions; he only needed to reproduce the "visualization" that his teacher had taught him in words.

He did not choose those mournful "springtime lament" themes, but instead opted for a style that is full of vitality and vivid imagery.

The very first stroke is incredibly fluid and expressive.

"The east wind knows I wish to travel to the mountains, and blows away the sound of the accumulated rain from the eaves."

This sentence instantly brings the "spring breeze" to life. The wind isn't blowing randomly; it "knows me" and deliberately blew away the annoying sound of rain so that I could go play in the mountains.

This is what the gentleman meant by anthropomorphism!

Next, the second and third lines:

"The clear clouds on the mountains are covered with woolen hats, and the copper ceremonials are hanging on the treetops in the early morning."

When describing clouds, don't say they are clouds, but say the mountains are wearing cotton hats (cotton hats); when describing the sun, don't say it is the sun, but say it is a gong (bronze gong) hanging on the treetops (bronze gong).

This metaphor, in the literary world of the early Song Dynasty, which valued "elegance," was both extremely "wild" and extremely "novel"! It's like a photographer suddenly barging in among a group of old men painting ink paintings, snapping a high-definition color photo in a snap.

Neck Couplet:

"Wild peach blossoms smile by the short bamboo fence, willows sway by the clear stream and sand."

The wild peaches are smiling, the bamboo fence looks short (because the flowers have grown taller), and the willows by the stream are swaying by themselves (no need for the wind, they're just being vain).

The concluding couplet elevates the theme:

"The sunset over Xiwu is poetic, while the fields in the east announce the start of spring plowing."

The final line firmly focuses on "agricultural affairs." It possesses both poetic and picturesque qualities, as well as practical relevance (spring plowing), perfectly matching Ouyang Xiu's pragmatic taste.

The poem "On the Road to Xincheng" (Note: borrowed from Su Shi's later famous work, set at this time as his first attempt at singing) was completed in one go.

Su Shi put down his pen, looked at the fifty-six characters with dripping ink on the paper, and snapped his fingers in satisfaction.

"Done. If I still can't get first place, I'll eat this pen."

……

Three days later, in the examination room.

Ouyang Xiu's face darkened again.

He held a test paper in his hand, his brow furrowed so deeply it could trap a fly: "This is supposed to be poetry? 'Spring flowers are bright red, spring water is green'... Did this student run out of words? Or is he trying to fool me?"

Mei Yaochen, standing beside him, also wore a wry smile: "My lord, this 'spring' theme is too familiar and easily becomes commonplace. After looking at hundreds of submissions, there are indeed very few that are pleasing to the eye."

"Not many? Not even a single one!"

Ouyang Xiu threw the examination paper on the table. "It's all just pointless whining! It's either a pile of flowery language, devoid of any vitality! If the spring of the Song Dynasty were all written about as lifelessly as they describe, how could we possibly live?"

While he was still fuming, the clerk in charge of sorting the papers carefully handed him one: "Sir, this one... is a bit special."

"Special? What's so special about it? Did it use some obscure characters again?"

Ouyang Xiu took the exam paper with a disgruntled expression and glanced at it.

"The east wind knows I desire to journey to the mountains..."

Ok?

Ouyang Xiu's gaze froze instantly.

This opening stroke...so light and quick! So full of human warmth!

He continued reading.

"The clear clouds on the mountains are covered with woolen hats, and the copper ceremonials are hanging on the treetops in the early morning."

puff--

Ouyang Xiu almost burst out laughing. Comparing clouds to cotton hats and the sun to gongs? This metaphor… is too vulgar! It's practically the language of a country bumpkin!

but……

Ouyang Xiu closed his eyes, and the image instantly appeared in his mind: after the rain, the mountaintop was shrouded in mist like a hat, and the bright red sun hung on the treetops like a gong.

Is it tacky? Yes, it is.

Is it vivid? It's fucking vivid!

This is practically like bringing a spring morning directly onto paper!

"Wonderful! Wonderful!"

Ouyang Xiu slapped his thigh, exclaiming, "This is poetry! This is life! Nothing compares to 'sunrise over the river's flowers'—it's not as vivid as this line, 'hanging bronze gongs'!"

He couldn't wait to finish reading the second half of the poem, and he nodded repeatedly when he saw the last line, "The spring plowing is announced in the eastern fields."

"It has beautiful scenery, touching scenes, and agricultural activities."

Ouyang Xiu stroked the scroll with obvious delight, saying, "It possesses both the charm of rural life and a deep concern for the livelihood of ordinary people. This is the kind of vision a talented scholar of the Song Dynasty should have!"

"Quick! See who wrote this... oh wait, it's anonymous."

Ouyang Xiu was so anxious he scratched his head and turned to ask Mei Yaochen, "Shengyu, do you think this could be another one of these...?"

Mei Yaochen, who was also holding two examination papers, smiled wryly upon hearing this and said, "Sir, please don't be in such a hurry to guess. Take a look at these two papers in my hand."

Ouyang Xiu took it and looked at it.

One of them was titled "The Joys and Sorrows of Spring Ploughing," written in a steady and mature style, which was Zeng Gong's style.

One of them read "The Freedom of the Spring Breeze," lively and elegant, exuding a youthful vigor—it was Su Zhe's style.

Three papers, three styles, but they all have one thing in common:

Rejecting clichés, only writing about genuine feelings.

Ouyang Xiu fell silent.

Looking at the three "outliers" on his desk, a huge sense of absurdity welled up inside him.

Thousands of candidates struggled in the quagmire known as the "Imperial Examination System," but these three seemed to fly across the clouds.

"Runzhou..."

Ouyang Xiu sighed, his tone tinged with a mixture of jealousy and relief, "What kind of magic pill did that brat Jiang Lin give them?"

"In this second round, the top three will probably be a foregone conclusion again."

……

Outside the examination hall, Gongyuan Street.

As the bell rang to signal the end of the exam, the candidates poured out of the gate like prisoners being released for a break.

This time, everyone's expressions were even uglier than in the first round.

"This is too difficult! It's so hard to write the character 'spring' well!"

"I racked my brains for ages, and all I could come up with was 'The spring breeze blows and it grows again,' and that was copied from Bai Juyi..."

Among the crowd, Su Shi and his two companions stood out as if they were out of place.

Instead of discussing the exam questions, they gathered around a small roadside stall.

"Boss, three bowls of mutton soup! Extra chili!" Su Shi shouted with boundless enthusiasm.

Several sharp-eyed candidates nearby recognized them.

"Look! Those are three talented scholars from Runzhou!"

"I heard that during the first exam on classical texts, Lord Ouyang slammed his fist on the table and cheered in the examination room, all because of their papers!"

"Really? This second poetry recitation is a strong point for our capital's examinees, can they really handle it?"

A candidate from Suzhou, unconvinced, approached Su Shi and bowed respectfully: "Brother Su, I am Zhang Mao from Suzhou. May I ask what your intention is in writing this 'Spring' theme today?"

This is to test the waters.

Su Shi was holding a bowl and drinking soup when he heard this. He looked up, with a piece of coriander still hanging from his mouth.

"conception?"

Su Shi blinked, remembering his teacher's words: "Pretentiousness should be moderate, but slapping someone in the face should be thorough."

"It doesn't really have any theme."

Su Shi put down his bowl and said sincerely, "I just think the weather is nice today. The sun looks like a big bronze gong, which is quite festive."

"A... a gong?"

Zhang Mao was stunned, then a mocking smile appeared on his lips. "Brother Su, you're quite the joker. Poetry is an elegant pursuit; how can you use such a vulgar object as a gong in your poems? It seems Brother Su has had an off day this time."

The surrounding examinees shook their heads, convinced that Su Shi had surely failed this time. Comparing the sun to a gong? That's so corny!

Su Shi did not argue, but just looked at them with a smile, his eyes full of sympathy.

"Alas, how can a sparrow know the ambition of a swan, and how can a common person understand the beauty of a gong?"

Su Shi shook his head and beckoned to his two junior brothers, "Come on, let's go back to sleep. In a few days, when the results are announced, let them hear how loud the 'gong' is."

……

The night at Gaosheng Inn is quiet and profound.

Su Shi lay in bed, touching the empty red brocade pouch, and murmured to himself:

"Sir, I'll strike this gong. Now, let's see if Lord Ouyang can appreciate its value."

"but……"

He rolled over, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his eyes.

"The next round is the strategy discussion. That's the real decisive battle."

"Is the topic you gave me, 'Punishment and Reward for the Loyal and Honest,' really alright?"