The Great Song Dynasty's Soul-Forging in Progress

Today, Lü Sanjun bestows all the glory upon Wang Zhonghua. As a businessman, he is very wise: since meeting Emperor Renzong, Wang Zhonghua is no longer just Lü Sanjun's ordinary partner, but a steel awl that has stood out, a dragon that has broken free from shallow waters, and a fledgling eagle that has soared into the sky!

Standing in the shadows, Lü Sanjun looked at the radiant young man on the stage, then at the scholars whose faces flickered between light and shadow. His fat face trembled violently, as if he saw two forks in the road of fate: one leading to a bright future, the other to utter ruin. He subconsciously touched his round belly, which held not only wine and meat, but also a heavy weight of fear and unresolved choices.

The celebration banquet finally reached its true climax with the earth-shattering rendition of "Man Jiang Hong".

But no one knows whether what lies beyond the peak is an abyss or another world.

Li Jingniang sat before her dressing table, gazing at her reflection in the bronze mirror. The person in the mirror was still dressed in a moon-white gown, the pale ink landscape on the hem shimmering softly in the candlelight. Her eyebrows and eyes were still the same, her jawline still the same taut curve—but she knew something was different.

She raised her hand and gently pressed her fingertips against her heart.

They were still dancing there, faster than usual. They hadn't slowed down since the moment they stepped off the stage.

She remembered standing on the stage just moments before, only a step away from him. She could even smell the faint scent of alcohol on him, mixed with a scalding, almost burning heat. His voice was hoarse and strained, yet he kept singing, putting all his strength into it, as if trying to etch every word of the line, "With lofty ambitions, I'll feast on the flesh of the barbarians; laughing and talking, I'll drink their blood," into everyone's heart.

She accompanied him. The pipa strings vibrated beneath her fingertips, and the melody of "Man Jiang Hong" flowed from her fingertips, intertwining with his hoarse singing. At that moment, she suddenly couldn't tell—whether his singing had merged into her pipa, or her pipa music had merged into his soul.

All she knew was that when the song ended, her eyes welled up with tears.

At that moment, she suddenly understood something.

This man's heart was not filled with power struggles, wealth, or the fame and fortune that scholars and literati talked about every day. What he carried in his heart was the landscape described in that poem, the deep-seated hatred behind the "flesh of the barbarians" and the "blood of the Huns," and the "reclaiming of the old land" that he uttered.

Li Jingniang had spent ten years in the world of prostitution, witnessing the true colors of countless men. Some coveted her beauty, some admired her fame, some used her as a status symbol, and some treated her as a pastime. She had long since learned to see through men with her "calm and detached" eyes, able to discern their true intentions at a glance.

But she couldn't see through him.

The music ended, but the crowd lingered. A new order had already quietly begun to sprout within the lingering strains of the music. All eyes were focused on the stage, while undercurrents surged beneath the surface in the flickering gazes and subtle expressions of the audience. The banquet was far from over.

Wang Zhonghua simply smiled slightly, then looked at Zhao Zongyuan, whose expression was uncertain, and Liu Sanbian, who looked utterly dejected.

"Young Prince, Mr. Liu."

Zhao Zongyuan and Liu Sanbian were taken aback and looked up at him.

Wang Zhonghua said slowly, "I've thought about that bet."

Their hearts tightened: "You... what do you want?"

Wang Zhonghua looked at Liu Sanbian with a calm gaze, yet with an indescribable seriousness: "Mr. Liu, I have read your poems. 'Wherever there is well water, Liu's poems are sung.' Your talent is known throughout the world."

Liu Sanbian was stunned.

He never expected that this young man, who had repeatedly embarrassed him, would say such a thing.

Wang Zhonghua continued, "But I also know that in your heart, sir, there is more than just those 'light drinking and soft singing'. The 'Exhortation to Learning' in your heart shows that you have the people and the world in your heart."

Liu Sanbian was startled.

He had never shown that essay, "Exhortation to Learning," to anyone; he had only written it casually in his spare time and kept it hidden at the bottom of a box. Today, he took it out intending to show off his learning to Liu Xinyi, but Liu Xinyi had carelessly tossed it at his feet. Unexpectedly…

"Sir, you are talented, and even more so, you have a heart," Wang Zhonghua said, emphasizing each word. "It would be a pity to use such talent only to write about romance and nature."

Liu Sanbian opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a word.

Wang Zhonghua looked at him with a hint of sincerity in his eyes: "My bet is—please remember that pot of wine from that day, and remember the principle that the aroma of wine can attract boats."

"What...what reason is that?" Liu Sanbian's voice was somewhat hoarse.

Wang Zhonghua gazed at the lake and said slowly, "The aroma of wine can attract boats because it is strong, pure, and authentic. The same applies to being an official and a person. If one only indulges in sensual pleasures and indulges in light drinking and singing, no matter how strong the aroma is, it will not attract real boats."

"But if one has the people in their heart and implements practical policies, then the fragrance can spread far and wide and attract people."

He turned to look at Liu Sanbian: "Sir, you are over forty years old. If you continue to waste your time like this, you will really only be able to 'sing and drinking softly' for the rest of your life."

Liu Sanbian was struck dumb.

He stood there, motionless, Wang Zhonghua's words echoing in his ears: "In this life, I can only 'sing and drink softly'."

He recalled his ambition when he left home at eighteen, the disappointment of failing the imperial examinations time and time again, the self-deprecating humor of being "ordered to write lyrics," and the days and nights he spent in brothels and alleys.

Is he really willing to accept this?

Does he really only want to be a "minister in plain clothes"?

No.

He was not reconciled.

Over the years, he has become accustomed to numbing himself, to telling himself that "fame" is not important, and to hiding in "light drinking and soft singing" to escape reality.

until today.

Until I met this young man, this pot of wine, and these words.

Liu Sanbian suddenly gave Wang Zhonghua a deep look, then turned around and bowed deeply to Zhao Zongyuan: "Young Prince, I am not feeling well, so I will take my leave first."

Zhao Zongyuan was taken aback: "Mr. Liu, you..."

Liu Sanbian offered no explanation and turned to leave.

His back was slightly unsteady, yet it carried an indescribable resolve.

A cold wind blew by, whipping up his clothes, making him look particularly desolate in the setting sun.

Wang Zhonghua watched his retreating figure and sighed softly.

Liu Xinyi walked to his side and whispered, "Will he understand?"

Wang Zhonghua nodded: "Yes."

How did you know?

Wang Zhonghua smiled and looked into the distance: "Because he is Liu Sanbian. Because in his heart, he always carried that essay, 'Exhortation to Learning'."

Qin Tiehua leaned closer and asked curiously, "Brother Zhonghua, what's that 'Exhortation to Learning' you mentioned about?"

Wang Zhonghua thought for a moment and slowly read aloud:

"If parents raise their children but do not teach them, they do not love their children. If they teach but are not strict, they also do not love their children. If parents teach but the children do not learn, the children do not love themselves. If they learn but are not diligent, they also do not love themselves. Therefore, raising children requires teaching, teaching requires strictness, strictness requires diligence, and diligence will lead to success. If children learn, the sons of commoners will become high officials; if they do not learn, the sons of high officials will become commoners."

Qin Tiehua seemed to understand but not quite, scratching his head: "What... what's so good about this?"

Liu Xinyi, however, seemed to be deep in thought: "Though these words are simple, the principle is profound. The person who can write such words truly has the people in their heart."

Wang Zhonghua nodded: "That's why I said he would understand."

Zhao Zongyuan stood there, his expression shifting between anger and uncertainty. He glanced at Wang Zhonghua, then at the folding fan in his hand, and finally, with a fierce flick of his sleeve, he led his men to sit down dejectedly, wanting to leave but unwilling to give up.

The hall was full of guests, and cheers erupted.

Looking at the clear blue waters of Xiange Lake, Wang Zhonghua said leisurely, "In the grandeur of China, cultural heritage is not about social status, but about genuine passion. Let's go back and prepare for the grand opening of Xiange Renjia. I want to make this restaurant a true cultural landmark of Chenzhou."

A breeze swept across Xiange Lake, carrying the fresh scent of water vapor, as if cheering for this splendid cultural contest.

……

Several months later, in the capital city.

In a simple inn, Liu Sanbian sat by the window, holding a book in his hands.

The sounds of children playing drifted in from outside the window, and faintly, one could hear someone singing his lyrics: "Parting has always been painful, especially on this desolate autumn day..."

He listened for a while, then suddenly gave a bitter laugh.

It's that song again, "Rainy Night Bell".

Over the years, his lyrics have spread throughout the land; wherever there is well water, Liu Yong's lyrics are sung. Yet, this lyricist is still struggling for a mere ninth-rank official position.

He put down the book and took out a cloth bag from the bottom of the box.

When you open it, there's a crumpled piece of paper inside. It was the paper that Liu Xinyi and the other guests had stepped on and then picked up by Wang Zhonghua.

The paper contained his handwritten essay, "Exhortation to Learning"—"Parents who raise their children but do not teach them do not love their children..."

He stared at the article for a long time.

I suddenly remembered what Wang Zhonghua said by the Xiange Lake that day—

"If you only linger over fireworks and indulge in light drinking and singing, no matter how strong the fragrance is, it won't attract a real boat."

"But if one has the people in their heart and implements practical policies, then the fragrance can spread far and wide and attract people."

"Sir, you are over forty years old. If you continue to waste your time like this, you will really only be able to 'sing and drinking softly' for the rest of your life."

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

Over the years, he had been telling himself, "Talented scholars and poets are naturally capable of being high-ranking officials in plain clothes." But that was nothing but self-deception.

White robes, after all, do not signify a high-ranking official.

A few drinks and soft singing can never buy a bowl of porridge for the common people.

He suddenly stood up, walked to the table, spread out a piece of paper, and wrote:

"What do the people who boil the sea do? The women do not weave silkworms, and the men do not till the land."

The sources of food and clothing are too scarce; you are forced to take turns being conscripted into a squalid state…

As he wrote, his eyes became a little moist.

This is a poem he wrote for the salt workers, depicting their suffering, their hardships, and their despair.

After finishing writing, he put down his pen, looked at the twilight outside the window, and murmured to himself:

"Young Master Wang, you are right. Fine wine should be used to propel boats; talent should be used to benefit the people."

He paused, then suddenly burst into laughter:

"It's time for me, Liu Sanbian, to 'change' in this lifetime."