The struggle for the throne during the Jiajing reign

Chapter 152 Gang Fight

Xu Wei, who was about to be richly rewarded, was still working passionately. Dressed in a blue robe, he pointed at a group of people opposite him and said in a carefree manner: "Those who write poetry nowadays all pick up leftovers and use them as sustenance, thinking that they are nourished by them. They imitate others' walks and think that they are beautiful, without any sense of shame."

"Enough! Xu Wenchang, if it weren't for Uncle Zhang's sake, how would you even be qualified to be here?"

Xu Wei scoffed: "This is a restaurant. If you can come, so can I. It's not like I won't pay for the drinks. As for Uncle Da, let's stick to the facts. Why involve others?"

Debating principles and reasoning should be based on one's own insight and understanding; why should one be concerned with personal relationships or saving face?

Look at the poems you've written these past two days! When you describe mountains, they're always towering; when you describe water, it's always murmuring; when you describe sorrow, it's always poignant; when you describe ambition, it's always boundless. It's all just parroting the ancients, you can't even come up with a fresh metaphor. And you dare to claim you're tracing the origins?

Wang Shizhen and the others were so angry that their faces turned pale. They used to gather every day after get off work, around the stove to cook wine, discuss poems, criticize the official style, and belittle the Tang and Song schools of poetry. They were very happy and harmonious.

But that day Zhang Juzheng brought Xu Wei with him. They had heard of him, after all, the Ten Talents of Yuezhong were quite famous, and he had recently received a reward from His Majesty. Although they were somewhat disgusted that he was a disciple of Prince Jing, they didn't say anything.

They tacitly allowed him to sit and listen, but to their surprise, after less than an hour, he stood up and started cursing at them. His words were so offensive that some of them cried.

It is common for writers to hold their own opinions and argue over literary theories. Most people just thought he was arrogant and eccentric, and didn't bother to argue with him. They thought they would just sit separately and criticize each other.

Unexpectedly, this guy chased after them and cursed them. Wherever they went, Xu Wei followed with his wine jug.

Workers continue to curse—

If the crowd remained silent, he would become even more excited, saying they were like turtles in a moat. Then he would take a sip of wine, add some harsh criticism, and rant even more vehemently. Sometimes he would even burst out laughing while ranting.

Cursing is a common skill for most people, but this guy is shameless. The more you curse him, the more he drinks, and sometimes he even nods in agreement. He's like a beast!

Li Panlong slammed his hand on the table: "Xu Wei, since the founding of our dynasty, the official style of writing has become decadent and cumbersome, and the Tang and Song styles have become shallow and empty. Without restoring the ancient system, how can the literary style be revitalized? Your wanton slander is nothing more than trying to be different and attract attention. You just want to use us to make a name for yourself."

"Indeed, he was a commoner who failed the imperial examinations but was favored by Prince Jing."

"Why bother with him? This man is like a starving dog, he'll eat anything."

"Without a teacher, and without ancient methods, your writing is nothing but wild and unorthodox practices; how dare you discuss poetry and philosophy with us?"

He is clearly insane, deranged, and utterly unruly, behaving like a street ruffian. How dare he call himself a renowned scholar of Yue?

Xu Wei downed a large bowl of strong liquor: "That feels great!"

He slammed his wine bowl down on the table and pointed to a handsome scholar dressed in a moon-white robe and wearing a black gauze hat, saying: "Under the setting sun over the desolate outpost, the empty forest reflects the remaining light, the north wind shakes the ancient trees, and the cold clouds lock the perilous tower."

The soldier's regret lasts a thousand years, the hero's sorrow a hundred years; leaning alone on the railing for a long time, I recall my past travels in desolation.

This is what you did yesterday. Read it to yourself. If you put this sentence in a collection of Tang Dynasty poems, would it be even remotely outstanding? Apart from making sure it has the right tones and rhymes, would it have any sentiment behind it?

Have you ever seen a watchtower? Do you know any soldiers on campaign? You're just creating things behind closed doors, piecing together fragments from the poems of the past. I'd be being polite by calling you a scrambled egg.

The scholar had gentle features, a tall and elegant appearance, and a warm and unassuming demeanor. He was Liang Youyu, a Jinshi (successful candidate in the highest imperial examination) of this year.

Seeing that among so many people, he was the only one singled out to be scolded, and the scolding was so nasty, her heart ached, and tears streamed down her face, making her look extremely pitiful.

"Oh dear, brother, how can you hold a grudge against him? Let me help you scold him back."

Everyone disregarded Xu Wei and rushed to comfort him first.

Liang Youyu hurriedly turned his face away and tried to wipe it, but the more he wiped, the more it spread. Finally, he stood up, cupped his hands to the crowd, and said in a choked voice, "Brothers, I'll take my leave now."

Having said that, he hurried downstairs. Xu Wei glanced at his retreating figure, but instead of shutting up, he raised his voice and said, "Scholar Liang, take your time. Go home and read more books that convey moral principles, and stop writing those affected, sentimental poems. You can't express your true feelings by crying!"

Liang Youyu paused for a moment, then walked down more quickly.

"Brothers, this barbarian is not speaking, let's make our move!"

The speaker was Xu Zhongxing, a newly appointed Jinshi (successful candidate in the highest imperial examination). His face was ashen, and his fists clenched unconsciously.

For days, they had been relentlessly mocked and ridiculed by Xu Wei, and they had repeatedly endured it, only mindful of the reputation of the literary world and unwilling to resort to violence.

However, this person specifically targeted the kind-hearted Liang Youyu, publicly criticizing his new poems as utterly worthless, forcing the dignified newly appointed scholar to leave in tears. This was truly outrageous.

Zong Chen, Wu Guolun, and others present were all newly appointed Jinshi (successful candidates in the highest imperial examinations) this year. Upon hearing this, they all stood up, disregarding their usual decorum in order to avenge their fellow graduates.

Xu Wei, who had been pointing at Wang Shizhen and mocking him, suddenly sensed something was amiss: "What do you want to do?"

"Gag him, stuff him in the snow, freeze him half to death, and take him to Brother Liang's door to apologize."

"No, no! What has Bai Xue done wrong? How can you smear her with this person? Just beat her half to death!"

"It is impolite to bully the weak with numbers; please allow me to fight him one-on-one!"

Xu Wei, hands on his hips, laughed and said, "You spout sages' words but resort to violence. A gentleman uses words, not fists. You hold the books of sages but act like common men. It's utterly laughable."

"You dare call yourself a gentleman?"

As the crowd began to gather, the scholars watching from the periphery, seeing that a fight was about to break out, quickly tried to smooth things over.

"No need to stop me! I, Xu, want to see today whether your writing skills are as weak as cotton as your fists and feet, since you can't write anything substantial."

.

Those on the periphery also kept quiet, deciding to wait until the guy was half-beaten to death before trying to stop him.

They finally took action. Li Panlong stood aside, while Wang Shizhen, Wu Guolun, Xu Zhongxing, and others rushed forward, and chaos ensued in an instant.

Several tables were knocked askew, inkstones and pen holders rolled off the tables and brush holders, porcelain plates and bowls were shattered, and wine was spilled all over the tables and floor.

Xu Wei, after all, came from a poor background and had a foul mouth, so this was not his first time in a fight. He was quite experienced in dealing with group brawls, and he could dodge left and right and even throw a few punches back.

What's most impressive is that even after all that, he still kept talking: "Master Zong's punches are as soft as a girl embroidering. Could it be that he writes too many soft poems and has no strength left?"

"Be careful, Scholar Wu. If you damage the tables and chairs in this restaurant, it might take two months' salary to pay for them!"

"Kill him!"

"Slap his foul mouth first!"

There is strength in numbers, and Xu Wei was soon bruised and swollen, but he still refused to let it go. The group of people also took a hit or two, and the more they thought about it, the angrier they became.

At this moment, Qi Jiguang finally couldn't help but stand up and say, "Gentlemen, that's enough."

Xu Wei, his eyes dark and swollen, squinted at him before saying, "Yuan Jing, what brings you here?"

Qi Jiguang said helplessly, "Uncle told me to follow you so you wouldn't get beaten to death."

"7

Li Panlong sneered, "I wouldn't kill him, but teaching him a lesson wouldn't be too much."

"That's not unreasonable, which is why I'm only speaking now."

"But I think it's still a bit lacking."

Qi Jiguang smiled and said, "Then I will do it on behalf of Brother Wen."

"Ha, you think you can take it?"

Qi Jiguang looked at this group of scholars and literati who were as thin as bamboo poles, and thought to himself that it was indeed not feasible, so he sincerely said:

T

Your servants can also come along.

Upon hearing this, everyone immediately became cautious; how many fools could possibly pass the imperial examination?

"Who are you?"

"My name is Qi Jiguang, a military officer who has come to the capital to take the imperial examination."

A martial arts graduate? He's not even worthy to carry our shoes!

But if it comes to taking action, that's a different story.

Wang Shizhen touched her swollen lips: "You can take him away, but you have to promise that he won't bother our literary society again."

The others nodded in agreement. First, Xu Wenchang had already been taught a lesson. Second, if things escalated and the Imperial Censor was involved, the charge of gang fighting would fall on the heads of the newly appointed Jinshi and the officials of the Six Ministries, severely damaging their careers and reputations.

Xu Wei, leaning on a pillar, stood up: "On what grounds? Anyone can participate in the literary gathering in the capital. The debate is about right and wrong, with everyone expressing their own opinions. You can't even understand the principles, yet you want to silence the world's criticisms? How laughable!"

"Sigh." Qi Jiguang thought a fight was inevitable, so he casually tore off his outer robe, revealing his strong muscles and bones. His tiger-like eyes swept across the entire scene, thinking about where to start the fight.

"Fine, take him away." Li Panlong glanced coldly at Xu Wei: "But this matter is not over yet. In literary debates, skill is the measure of talent. We will write our own rebuttals later, and let the scholars of the world judge whose poetry and prose have strayed into heresy."

Xu Wei gasped, “It is good to judge the quality of writing. I will wait and see your works. When the time comes, the world will judge who is merely imitating the ancients and who is expressing their true feelings!”

Qi Jiguang stepped forward to help Xu Wei downstairs, and behind them, a chaotic clatter of tables and chairs and shouts of reproach and discussion erupted from the warm pavilion.

Before leaving, Xu Wei stopped, took out some silver from his pocket, and handed it to the counter: "This is my compensation, please keep it safe."

"Oh dear, it's just some tables, chairs, cups, and plates, we don't need that many."

Xu Wei laughed and said, "Then save it, I'll come back for drinks next time."

"Okay, take your time. There's a traditional Chinese medicine shop for treating bone injuries to the west."

"understood."

Xu Wei only started to cry out in pain after he had walked a distance away. He hadn't felt it when his blood was rushing to his head, but now he was in for a lot of trouble.

Qi Jiguang also suffered a lot of ridicule from Xu Wei during their time together, so he gloated, "If I hadn't come, you would have been beaten half to death."

Xu Wei gritted his teeth and said, "Don't think I don't know. You must have come out to stop me because you were enjoying the beating."

"Hahaha."

Qi Jiguang led Xu Wei for a while and saw a black lacquered wooden sign that read "Traumatology Clinic," with a small plaque next to it advertising ointments, pills, and powders.

Medicated wine, bone setting.

It has a strong aroma of herbs, the spiciness of medicinal wine, and the burnt smell of plaster.

"Shopkeeper."

"Here he comes." An elderly man, about sixty years old, stood up from behind the counter. He wore a dark blue cotton robe, and his hands were calloused and his knuckles were thick.

After glancing at Qi Jiguang, he walked up and grabbed Xu Wei's chin.

Open your mouth.

Xu Wei refused, but when the old man applied a little pressure with his fingertips, he immediately winced in pain and had no choice but to open his mouth. The old man looked at the bruises on his cheeks and then pressed on his cheeks, brow bones, shoulders, back, and legs. Every time the old man pressed on a spot, Xu Wei hissed and gasped.

"Black eyes, swollen cheeks, broken brow bone, several blunt injuries to the shoulder and back, bruises under the ribs, bruises on the thighs and calves, thankfully no bones are broken."

After saying that, he immediately started applying the medicine, ignoring Xu Wei's cries of pain, and then neatly packed up the remaining liniment.

He said to Qi Jiguang, "You seem to know what you're doing. His injuries are just superficial, nothing serious. Just apply the ointment as needed."

"OK."

>