The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

So, while Ouyang Xiu was surrounded by countless awe-inspiring gazes, Di Qing simply stood quietly at the edge of the crowd, like a silent stone statue. As Ouyang Xiu exchanged pleasantries with Chen Shimei, Zhao Zongyuan, and others, his eyes seemed to subtly glance in Di Qing's direction. That look lacked the sharpness of courtly intimacy, only the calm of an old friend and… a faint apology.

True friendship in this world doesn't necessarily involve sharing drinks and laughter. There's a kind of bond that says, "I banished you with my own hands, just so you could live." There's a kind of tacit understanding that says, "I understand your predicament, and I believe that my sacrifice will be witnessed by time."

Di Qing lowered his eyes slightly, and the corners of his sharply defined lips seemed to twitch slightly. He knew that from this day forward, Chenzhou would be his home. And the old man in the blue robe would continue to guard the dam that would later be called "Wu Xiang" for him amidst the storms of the court.

Ouyang Xiu and Di Qing entered the lavish banquet hall one after the other. The hall was filled with elegantly dressed officials, and no one heard their silent exchange and reconciliation. No one saw that, in the shadows of history, two men swept up by the tides of time had sacrificed their reputations to save each other's lives.

At this moment, Chen Shimei, his face beaming with smiles, hurried forward and bowed deeply to the ground: "Lord Ouyang, your esteemed presence is an honor! I have failed to greet you properly, please forgive me! I have long heard that your writings are unparalleled in the world, and to meet you today is truly a great honor!" Behind him, a group of officials and scholars seemed to awaken from a dream, rushing forward to bow and offer their greetings, showering him with flattery. Compared to when they had greeted the young prince, they now showed even more heartfelt reverence.

Ouyang Xiu returned the greetings with a smile, his voice aged yet clear: "Your Excellency is too kind. I am but a humble scholar, what merit do I possess to deserve such hospitality?" As he spoke, his gaze swept across the crowd, lightly meeting the probing eyes of Prince Zhao Zongyuan. Zhao Zongyuan paused in his folding fan, then resumed waving it, his smile unwavering, but a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

Ouyang Xiu nodded slightly, then turned to Wang Zhonghua, cupped his hands, and said with a smile, "This must be Young Master Wang? I had heard of the tale of the 'family of musicians' in Bianjing. Meeting you today, I can see your extraordinary bearing. Young hero, you have rid the country of bandits; I shall offer you a toast."

Wang Zhonghua hurriedly bowed in return, but his mind was crystal clear: the protagonist of tonight's grand drama had arrived. The appearance of Ouyang Xiu, the literary master and political icon, had pushed the storm of this banquet into its deepest, most unfathomable abyss.

Led by the best man, everyone entered the restaurant and took their seats in turn. With a command from Chen Shimei, the victory celebration banquet officially began!

After several rounds of drinks and dishes, the main hall of the music hall was warm and inviting, the aroma of wine making everyone's faces flush. The singer on stage had just finished performing "Xi Jiang Yue," the pipa music had ceased, and the hall erupted in applause. Amidst this lively atmosphere, Chen Shimei suddenly coughed lightly, put down his ivory chopsticks, and his gaze fell on Di Qing in the corner.

"General Di," Chen Shimei's voice wasn't loud, yet it carried a power that pierced through the clamor, "I remember that at the beginning of the year, you were still fighting the enemy in the Northwest, risking your life on the line—what a hero you were! How come you have the leisure to come to this tavern to listen to music and watch dances now? Could it be... that the sandstorms of the Northwest are not as intoxicating as the gentle breezes of Chenzhou?"

His words were laced with venom, each one a dagger to the heart. The entire room fell silent; even the musicians clutched their pipa tightly, afraid to join in.

Di Qing knew that the game of civil officials mocking military generals had begun again. He seemed oblivious, however, pouring himself a full cup of strong liquor, tilting his head back to drink it all, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he were swallowing not just liquor, but the winds and sands of the Northwest and its loneliness. Only then did he slowly raise his eyes: "Your Excellency is right. The harsh winds of the Northwest cannot nurture this fine wine, nor can they cultivate the gentle grace and exquisite poetry of Liu Yong. Yet it is precisely those winds and sands that have blocked the iron hooves of the Western Xia, allowing Your Excellency to peacefully enjoy wine and music by this Stringed Song Lake."

He paused, then his voice suddenly turned sharp, like a sword drawn half an inch from its sheath, "This humble general's sword is used to cut down foreign enemies. I wonder what your pen, sir, is used to cut down?"

Chen Shimei's expression changed slightly, then he smiled again, though the smile didn't reach his eyes: "My pen is naturally for the Emperor's purposes, to govern the people and to establish a future for all. General, can your sword still cut?"

"Whether it can cut through or not," Di Qing flicked his finger lightly on the hilt of his sword, the steel blade emitting a dull "thud," like a dragon's roar, a howl, or a war drum pounding in everyone's heart. "It depends on who the opponent is. If it's one of our own, my sword would have dulled long ago; but against wolves," his gaze flashed like lightning, sweeping over the officials behind Chen Shimei, "my sword will still cut through iron like mud!"

The atmosphere froze instantly.

Seeing this, Wang Zhonghua quickly raised his glass to smooth things over: "Your Excellency, General Di, today is a victory celebration, not a celebration of the sword. Both of you are pillars of Chenzhou. I, Wang, toast you both, wishing Chenzhou eternal stability and the people peace and well-being!"

Chen Shimei paused, his wine cup still dripping with a half-smile, and turned to Wang Zhonghua: "Young Master Wang, your words are well said. However, I would like to ask, is this 'merit' of Young Master Wang truly the merit of suppressing bandits, or... the merit of amassing wealth? The 'Drunken Eight Immortals' rake in money every day, and 'Hidden Arrow' is a force to be reckoned with in the countryside. Young Master Wang, at such a young age, you have already grasped the lifeline of half of Chenzhou. I truly do not know how to report this 'merit' to the court?"

The implication was clear: Wang Zhonghua was using force and monopolizing trade routes, making him a local tyrant. All the guests pricked up their ears, even the young prince Zhao Zongyuan fanned himself, eagerly awaiting the spectacle.

Wang Zhonghua, however, remained calm and downed his drink in one gulp, then said loudly, "Your Excellency is wise! My achievements are all thanks to you. If it weren't for your effective governance and the peace and tranquility of Chenzhou, my 'hidden arrow' would have been useless. As for 'Drunken Eight Immortals,' it's just a place to drink, and thanks to the Song Dynasty, I earned my money from my friends' hard-earned money. In the end, my achievements are all due to Your Excellency's excellent leadership; I merely got a taste of the benefits." With these words, he not only attributed the credit to Chen Shimei but also subtly implied that "if the terrain hadn't been so uneven, there would have been no need for a hidden arrow"—that Chen Shimei's poor governance had led to rampant banditry, forcing Wang Zhonghua to protect himself.

Chen Shimei was taken aback by the interruption and was about to speak again when the young prince interrupted with a smile.

"Oh dear, Your Excellency, Young Master Wang, today is a joyous occasion, why discuss such unpleasant official business?" Zhao Zongyuan, fanning himself, strolled over to Wang Zhonghua and patted him affectionately on the shoulder. "Young Master Wang, I've heard that your 'Hidden Arrows' are all heroes. My household is currently lacking some capable men, so why don't you part with a few of them? Don't worry, I won't mistreat them; their monthly pay will be doubled, plus additional rewards. As for you..." He lowered his voice, his eyes darting between Qin Tiehua and Liu Xinyi, "I also have several properties in Xiangyang, and I'm in dire need of someone as capable as Young Master Wang to manage them. Then, beauties and treasures will be within easy reach!"

It was a blatant attempt to win them over, tinged with the arrogance and haughtiness characteristic of royalty.

Wang Zhonghua sneered inwardly, but his face grew even more respectful: "Your Highness's kindness is most appreciated; I would gladly die for it. However, those men from 'Dark Arrow' are all uncouth country bumpkins, utterly unfit for respect. If they offend the noble air of the Prince's residence, I would gladly die for it. As for myself..." He glanced at Liu Xinyi and Qin Tiehua, "I have no great ambitions; I only wish to stay in this corner of Chenzhou, guarding my own little plot of land, and live a peaceful life. I fear I am not worthy of Your Highness's grand ambitions."

Zhao Zongyuan's face darkened slightly, and he snapped his fan shut. Just as he was about to speak again, Liu Sanbian on the stage suddenly stood up and, emboldened by alcohol, shouted: "Today, with so many distinguished guests gathered, we cannot be without poetry! We scholars should emulate the Orchid Pavilion Gathering and, in high spirits, engage in a poetry contest. What do you say, Ouyang Xiu?"

Upon hearing this, the scholars and literati immediately rose in response. Ouyang Xiu stroked his beard, smiled, and nodded in agreement. Liu Sanbian, beaming with pride, glanced at the courtesans and, swaying his head, recited his most prized poem: "The cicadas chirp mournfully, as evening falls on the long pavilion, the sudden rain has just ceased. At the city gate, the farewell feast is joyless; reluctant to leave, the orchid boat urges departure. Holding hands, we gaze at each other with tearful eyes, speechless, choked with emotion. Thinking of the journey ahead, a thousand miles of misty waves, the twilight deepens over the vast Chu sky."

Parting has always been painful, especially on this desolate autumn night! Where will I be when I wake from my drunken stupor tonight? On the willow-lined bank, in the dawn breeze and under the waning moon. In the years to come, all the beautiful days and scenes will be in vain. Even if I possess a thousand kinds of feelings, to whom can I speak of them?

The scholars cheered in unison, showering him with flattery, but their gazes toward Wang Zhonghua were filled with disdain.