Tang Dynasty Swordsman.

With a "smack," the bamboo strainer struck the edge of the wok, and Old Guan coldly snorted, "If it's inedible, get out! I'll return all your copper coins!"

Li Ji ignored him, but instead took out another pair of chopsticks, stuffed them into Li Shi's hand, and introduced them, saying, "The soup is clear and fresh, the noodles are soft yet chewy, the seasonings are just right, and it's sour and spicy—delicious, I'm not lying to you."

Li Shi then picked up a few strands of noodles, took a small bite, and then exclaimed "Eh!" before slurping up a large mouthful, looking puzzled. "I thought it was coarse noodles mixed with chaff. Although it's a bit coarse and bitter, it has a... refreshing and indescribable texture—what kind of noodles are these?"

Li Ji buried his head in his noodles and casually replied, "Buckwheat noodles."

"Huh?" This time it was Old Guan's turn to be surprised. He immediately turned around and asked, "This buckwheat came from the north and is only grown in a few counties in Pengyuan and Shunhua prefectures, as are those who eat buckwheat noodles. You young man speak with a Gyeonggi accent, and it even has a bit of a Gyeonggi flavor. How can you recognize it?"

Li Ji didn't answer, but instead smiled and asked, "Can the host distinguish accents from different places?"

The basic administrative division of the Tang Dynasty was the prefecture (郡). Later, for military needs, several prefectures were combined into circuits (道). The area around Chang'an, the western capital, was called the Jingji Circuit (京畿道), and the area around Luoyang, the eastern capital, was called the Duji Circuit (都畿道). Although Li Ji was from Zhao County, he learned the official language of Chang'an from his father, who was an official, from a young age. This was the accent of the Jingji Circuit. Later, he followed Li Bi in Yingyang, which was part of the Duji Circuit, so he was naturally influenced by it to some extent.

However, the Tang Dynasty almost equally valued both capitals, and even though the emperors resided in Chang'an for most of the time, they would occasionally travel to Luoyang—it is said that during the reigns of Emperor Gaozong and Empress Wu, due to famine in Guanzhong, they spent a considerable period in Luoyang—so the accents of the two capitals were mixed and not very different. For example, that idle man on the street earlier assumed that both Lis were from the vicinity of Chang'an, and was able to immediately discern a slight Luoyang accent in Li Ji's speech; this old Guan was quite knowledgeable.

Old Guan didn't hide anything and smiled, saying, "I was originally a recruited soldier, stationed in Xijing for many years. I also went east to defend Luoyang and west to conquer Longyou. If I hadn't been crippled, I wouldn't have returned to my hometown to set up a noodle stall." As he spoke, he showed his right hand. Li Ji looked at it and saw that he only had four fingers, with his middle finger severed at the base.

Old Guan sighed softly: "It was chopped off by Tibetan soldiers... I'm an archer, and I just happened to lose my middle finger. If it had only been my ring or little finger, I wouldn't have had to leave the army. I'd probably be a Zhaowu Colonel by now..."

Before he could finish speaking, Li Ji heard someone behind him sneer, "Old man, don't boast. With your archery skills, you'd only ever reach the rank of Senior Commandant of the Seventh Rank. How could you possibly become a Zhaowu?"

He turned around hastily and saw two officials standing behind him, both around thirty years old. One wore a turban with his feet spread out and a light scarlet robe, while the other wore a turban with his feet crossed and a light green robe. The one who had laughed earlier was the scarlet-robed civil official.

Upon seeing this, Lao Guan quickly put down the sieve in his hand, clasped his hands in greeting, and said, "Greetings, Judge Yan."

The green-robed military officer waved his hand and said, "You old codger, don't you see that Lord Yan is now wearing a scarlet robe and holding a civil post? Recommended by Chancellor Fang, he has now been appointed as a Censor and Assistant Minister of State Affairs."

It is. ”

According to the information Li Ji had obtained from Li Bi, he knew that the position of Supervising Secretary was a high-ranking official of the fifth rank, a significant post in the Secretariat—meaning he had one foot in the ranks of high-ranking officials. Following the etiquette of the time, when an official approached, he quickly put down his chopsticks and made a gesture as if to rise—Li Shi, however, showed no reaction—the Supervising Secretary surnamed Yan raised his hand and pressed it down slightly, meaning: No need for formalities, please eat.

Then he sat down opposite the green-robed military officer at another long table, and the officer announced loudly, "Bring four bowls first, and we'll settle the bill later."

Just then, Li Ji finished his bowl of buckwheat noodles and wasn't full at all, so he asked, "I'll have two more bowls."

Old Guan nodded to the two officials first, then turned to Li Ji and said, "Young man, you need to eat more to have strength. My family's rule is buy five get one free, so why don't you ask for three more bowls, and I'll give you a sixth bowl for free."

Li Ji thought to himself, "This old guy knows how to do business," and nodded with a smile.

To be honest, he hadn't really liked buckwheat noodles in his previous life—they were too coarse and a bit harsh on the throat—and these past few days, having been able to feast on the Prince's lavish meals in the palace, he no longer felt the same way he did at the beginning of his transmigration, his mouth always feeling bland and yearning for delicious food. However, the meals in the palace had to be cooked in the kitchen and then delivered by Li Tan, so apart from the "beggar's chicken" on the first day, most of the food was lukewarm, and although the five flavors were balanced, they were too neutral and bland, leaving him feeling unsatisfied.

To give an analogy, the food served in the palace was like those mild tonics, neither spicy nor bitter, at most enough to prolong life, but unlikely to cure serious illnesses—at least not enough to cure Li Ji's slanderousness.

Ultimately, Li Ji's soul came from a later era of great material abundance. What flavors could he not have tasted in this era? Especially for middle-class and above families in the later era, who could be satiated with rich food and taste all kinds of flavors, their palates became more and more discerning, and they would seek greater stimulation for their taste buds—for example, eating spicy food, and being unable to live without it. In fact, "spicy" is just a special kind of pain.

So, the unexpected "buckwheat noodles" he tasted this time were not only chewy and flavorful, but more importantly, they were freshly cooked, steaming hot, and had a slightly excessive amount of vinegar, scallions, and evodia, making them both sour and spicy, extremely appetizing. Li Ji, therefore, kept gesturing with his hands and chewing with his teeth, and in no time ate four bowls, sweating profusely, feeling incredibly satisfied. Only a slight regret lingered in his heart:

It's still not perfect. If you replaced the dogwood with chili peppers, it would be almost perfect...

While eating his noodles, he also leaned over to eavesdrop on the conversation between the two officials. At first, it was just casual conversation, but soon the green-robed officer mentioned the defeat of Fang Guan and Chen Tao at Xie—it seemed that this had just been reported to all mid-level and higher-ranking officers in the army—

“I knew Fang Xiang was incapable of fighting, but I never expected to suffer such a crushing defeat… Fortunately, my Longyou army did not go south and was assigned to Fang Xiang's command, otherwise…”

The official surnamed Yan couldn't help but sigh: "After this defeat, the Emperor's favor with Fang Xiang will surely decline... Although the Emperor is not questioning it for the time being, he is probably worried that the defeated army will be difficult to reorganize. Once the three cities of Fengtian and others are abandoned, there will be no guarantee for the army in the south. When Guo and Li arrive with the elite troops of Shuofang, they will surely recall Fang Xiang and may punish him severely."

The green-robed military officer leaned forward slightly and asked in a lower voice, "It was only because of Fang Xiang's recommendation that Lord Yan was able to transfer to a civil post and become a Censor. If Fang Xiang loses power, your position will be..."

The official surnamed Yan waved his hand and said, "It's irrelevant. I was able to transfer to a civil post because of my late father's influence. If the emperor had not been mindful of my father, even if the chancellor had recommended me, he would have placed me under someone else's patron and not kept me in the capital."

“Lord Yan,” the green-robed military officer cautioned, “I fear the Emperor’s intention is not to honor our late father, but rather… to seize military power in Longyou. Since the General was transferred to Hexi, our Longyou army has been leaderless, and only a handful of men like Lord Yan have the support of the people. We have longed for the General’s return, but he was defeated at Tongguan… It is said that the General was forced to surrender to the rebels, so the Emperor must be distrustful of the Longyou army, which is why he transferred Lord Yan to a civil post…”

Li Ji didn't understand at first, but later realized that the so-called "military governor" mentioned by this person should refer to Geshu Han—who served as the military governor of Hexi, suffered a defeat at Tongguan, and then surrendered to the rebels. Could there be a second general? Oh, it turns out that Geshu Han was originally the military governor of Longyou. These two officials must have been his subordinates.

Then Yan, the supervising secretary, rebuked him, saying, "Stop talking nonsense! The Emperor's transfer of me to a civil post is a great favor from Heaven, and I will repay it with my life—how dare you presume to know the Emperor's thoughts?" He then changed the subject, saying, "What a pity! If I had followed Chancellor Fang south and helped him plan things, perhaps we wouldn't have suffered such a crushing defeat, almost losing our lives!"

The green-robed military officer curled his lip and said, "Prime Minister Fang only trusts scholars like Li Yi and Liu Zhi. Even if Lord Yan were by his side, he probably wouldn't listen to your advice. Fortunately, Lord Yan was transferred to a civil post and couldn't go south with him, thus avoiding a great disaster and being implicated by him."

"Fang Xiang is still my benefactor, how can I say I'm implicated?" At this moment, the noodles were served. Yan, the censor, picked up his chopsticks and sighed, "The disaster started in Youyan, and the country was almost destroyed. At this time, a true man should be riding a horse and brandishing a spear to serve the royal family. But I was ordered to transfer to a civil post... Even if it is a blessing rather than a curse, it is not what I hoped for."

"When I first arrived in Lingwu the other day and paid homage to the sage, I saw that the loyalist troops were gathered from all sides, and all the soldiers were filled with resentment and discontent. I thought that once the army arrived, the rebellion would surely disintegrate, the rebels would be wiped out, and peace would be restored. So I wrote the poem 'Early Autumn in the Military City'..."

"Does Lord Yan have such a new work? I have never heard of it before. I humbly request that you recite it."

The official surnamed Yan immediately tapped the rim of the bowl with his chopsticks, making a crisp sound as a rhythm, and then recited in a long, melodious voice:

"Last night, the autumn wind swept into the Han Pass, and the northern clouds and the border moon filled the western mountains. Urge our swift generals to pursue the arrogant enemy, lest a single horse return from the battlefield!"

Chapter Twenty-Five: Retreating Three Steps

These days, Li Ji has been holed up in the palace, not only exercising and reading, or perfunctorily entertaining Li Shi who comes to visit and listening to Li Shi tell stories... He also repeatedly recalls some of his poems from later generations on his original timeline, planning to gradually release them when the time is right, and try to make a name for himself by copying poems.

Especially after calculation, it turns out that we are only in the mid-8th century AD, so even those famous works from the late 8th to the early 9th century can be used. I still remember at least ten of Han Yu's works, and a hundred years later, there is also the great poet Bai Juyi!

Even on this timeline, there are counterparts of these great poets. I plagiarized first, so in the future you will only be able to give up your pens in disappointment.

The plan was all set out perfectly—although the specifics of how to implement it were still unclear—but who would have thought that while strolling around outside the palace today, I would hear such a song, "Early Autumn in the Military City," at a street stall!

Based on Li Ji's ability to appreciate poetry, this poem wouldn't be considered excellent. If poetry were ranked in nine grades, it would at most be a mid-to-high fourth grade—the poems by Emperor Gaozong of Tang that I had read were a mid-to-low sixth grade, and even the poem about burning pears that night was only a low ninth grade out of respect for the emperor. However, this poem is simple in language and clear in rhythm, not like the result of repeated refinement, but rather an impromptu composition… If someone can casually write a fourth-grade poem, their actual skill level must be at least a third grade or higher, right?

Even if the Tang Dynasty was not a flourishing center of culture and education, it wouldn't be surprising if there were one or two learned scholars or genius poets whose works reached the highest level. The problem is that this guy was clearly a military man who had only recently been transferred to a civil post! In those days, most military officers were illiterate or semi-literate, so how low were the chances of a great poet emerging from a group of military men?

Even if I were to produce a masterpiece for posterity, I might not gain much advantage if such a person were present. Furthermore, if our skill levels were similar, we would inevitably engage in discussions about poetry and prose, and I, being merely a confiscator, would hardly be able to have a proper conversation with him.

Li Ji immediately felt half of his body turn cold, and even swallowing the steaming hot buckwheat noodles in front of him couldn't warm him up...

The two officials didn't exchange many more words after that, except for the green-robed military officer who mentioned Li Mi once, saying, "The Emperor has recently placed all his trust in that hermit, even taking him with him when inspecting the troops. If this man is like Chancellor Fang, ignorant of military affairs and fond of boasting, I'm afraid..."

The conversation was interrupted by the official surnamed Yan: "Mr. Changyuan's talent is probably beyond our comprehension—let's eat noodles. I only have time to chat with old friends occasionally, as I have official business to attend to later."

So they quickly finished their two bowls of noodles and left side by side. Li Shi, being a child, didn't have a big appetite and only ate one bowl of noodles. After that, he kept staring at Li Ji. Li Ji was in a mess and felt like he was being pricked. So he swallowed four bowls of noodles. By the fifth bowl, he couldn't eat much anymore. He just drank two mouthfuls of soup and put down his chopsticks.

The two paid the remaining money and left the thatched hut. After walking a few steps, seeing that no one was around and that Old Guan behind them could no longer hear them, they spoke at the same time. One asked, "That official..." and the other replied directly, "Yan Wu, courtesy name Jiying..."

Li Ji thought to himself, "So you were going to answer even though I didn't ask? Is this little guy showing off how many people he knows?" He then stopped talking and listened to Li Shi continue his introduction:

"...He is the son of Yan Tingzhi, the former Vice Minister of the Chancellery. He initially served as a judge in Geshu Han's army in Longyou. This time, he led the Shence Army to defend the emperor. Due to Fang Guan's recommendation, the emperor appointed him as a Palace Attendant."

Li Ji secretly breathed a sigh of relief, thinking to himself that he was the son of an important official, and his family must have a strong scholarly tradition, so it was not surprising that he was so talented in poetry.

"Is this Yan Wu a renowned poet?"

Li Shi shook his head: "I've never heard of him being a poet." Then he smiled and said: "What he recited just now was not bad. He is indeed from a family of officials and is quite learned. — Oh, could it be that you, Li Ji, also like poetry?"

Li Ji replied perfunctorily, "I just felt quite excited when I heard the song 'Early Autumn in the Military City'."

Li Shi laughed and said, "These kinds of poems about military life and the frontier are indeed to your liking. Li Ji, have you ever considered joining the army and making a name for yourself that is no less than that of Mr. Changyuan through your fists?"

Although Li Ji was considering vying for supremacy, he had no intention of joining the Tang army yet, so he waved his hand and said, "How dare I compare to my elder brother? Besides, the army doesn't rely on fists and feet. I'm not good at spears, broadswords, bows, or arrows, and I don't know anything about military strategy. I can only swing my fists and use a slingshot to fend off a few assassins for my brother. If I were in the midst of a battle, surrounded by swords and spears, I'm afraid..."

Li Shi suddenly frowned slightly, interrupting him and questioning, "Didn't you say you killed two rebel soldiers on Tanshan Mountain? How can you say they were assassins?"

Li Ji thought to himself, "This little guy is so perceptive!" He quickly shifted the blame: "It was my elder brother who said it. Later, Li Fuguo also said that we had nothing of value, yet those rebel soldiers were relentlessly pursuing us. Moreover, one of them, when facing my elder brother, uttered the word 'Li'... I'm afraid they are not ordinary rebel soldiers; their intention is specifically to assassinate my elder brother!"

Li Shi, with his hands behind his back, pondered, "An assassin? Why would the traitor An send an assassin to harm Master Changyuan? If he had such intentions, he would have already marched on Yingyang..."

Li Ji was afraid that Yan Wu was thinking too deeply or had other questions that would be difficult for him to answer, so he quickly changed the subject and asked, "In our Tang Dynasty, who is the best poet?" In fact, there is no first in literature and no second in martial arts. Li Shi probably couldn't say who was the best poet either. Li Ji just wanted to inquire and estimate whether Yan Wu's level could be ranked in the top five.

To everyone's surprise, Li Shi answered without hesitation: "Naturally, it's Mr. Taibai."

"

Li Ji cupped his hands in greeting: "May I ask your guidance?"

Li Shi mocked, "You don't even know Li Bai?" Li Ji shook his head blankly, "I don't know." Li Mi often lectured on classics and history to that master, but he never taught poetry, let alone mentioned contemporary poets.

"Li Bai, courtesy name Taibai, was a native of Chengji in Longxi. He was renowned for his poetry from a young age and traveled extensively with his sword. Later, he went to the capital to seek an audience with the emperor through his poetry and prose. He Zhizhang was greatly astonished upon seeing him, calling him a 'banished immortal' and recommending him to the retired emperor. The retired emperor then appointed him as a Hanlin scholar, bestowing upon him unparalleled favor. However, due to the slander of Yang Guozhong—or some say Gao Lishi—he was alienated and resigned..."

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At this point, Li Shi couldn't help but sigh: "Now that the country is in turmoil, I wonder where Mr. Li Bai is, and whether he is safe and sound?"

Li Ji pleaded, "Your Highness... Brother, do you still remember Mr. Li Bai's masterpieces? Could you recite a few for us to hear?"

Li Shi casually recited: "The bright moonlight shines before my bed, I wonder if it is frost on the ground. I raise my head to gaze at the bright moon, I lower my head to think of my hometown."

Li Ji curled his lip: "It's not getting any better..."

The reason it's considered bad is because it's almost plain language, merely rhyming. Although it seems like an impromptu composition, like a rough gem uncarved, it may contain profound meaning, but—you can't judge a poet's true skill based solely on this kind of short piece.

Li Shi said unhappily, "You can't even write poetry, so how dare you say that Mr. Li Bai is bad?"

Li Ji retorted unreasonably, "When did I ever say that Mr. Li Bai was bad? I just said that this kind of poetry isn't particularly good, and I could write it too." Then, under Li Shi's watchful gaze, which was three parts expectant and seven parts amused, he deliberately dragged out the words, reciting, "A flock of geese comes to the bank, a stick drives them into the river..."

Li Shi laughed so hard he almost fell over. After finally catching his breath, he asked, "What's next?"

"Below?" Li Ji teased him deliberately, "Below is like... the cat in my courtyard, gone."

Li Shi collapsed again with a "plop".

Li Ji wasn't deliberately pretending to be a simpleton or a comical person. It was just that although Li Shi was young, he was still over ten years old and could barely be considered a man. And among men, vulgar jokes were always the easiest way to build rapport and create a harmonious atmosphere.

Taking the opportunity, he pressed on, "I know you were afraid I wouldn't understand, so you recited some of Li Bai's simple works. Regardless of whether I can understand them or not, please recite one or two of the better ones to cleanse my ears and enlighten me, how about that?"

Li Shi thought for a moment and then said, "Mr. Li Bai has many excellent works, too numerous to mention, but in my opinion, those three 'Qingping Diao' poems must be on the list. I recall that the Emperor Emeritus and Consort Yang were having a joyous banquet, but lacking new lyrics, he urgently summoned Mr. Li Bai, who found them in the marketplace of Chang'an. At that time, Mr. Li Bai was drinking with friends and was already completely drunk. The Emperor Emeritus gave him soup to sober him up and even ordered Gao Lishi to remove his boots. Then, with his eyes still blurry from drinking, Mr. Li Bai picked up his brush and wrote them in one stroke. Everyone present who recited them was amazed—would you like to hear them?"

Li Ji bowed repeatedly: "Stop keeping me in suspense, tell me quickly, tell me quickly."

What does "keeping people in suspense" mean?

"This is my local dialect, meaning to whet people's appetite, and there's no end to it—please recite it, please recite it."

Li Shi then smiled and recited three poems from the "Qingping Tune" style, which were—

First: Clouds yearn for her garments, flowers for her face; the spring breeze caresses the balustrade, heavy with dew. If not seen atop Mount Qunyu, she will surely be met beneath the moon on the Jade Terrace.

Secondly: A single red blossom, glistening with dew and fragrant, makes the clouds and rain of Wushan seem futile, causing heartbreak. Who in the Han palace could compare? Pity the poor Flying Swallow, adorned in her new finery.

Thirdly: A beautiful flower and a captivating beauty, both pleasing to the eye, gazing upon the smiling emperor. Yet, she expresses boundless sorrow in the spring breeze, leaning against the balustrade north of the Agarwood Pavilion.

Li Ji was completely dumbfounded this time.

Actually, these three poems, while ornate and beautiful, aren't particularly high-brow; it's likely that this is the kind of work one would produce for the emperor. However, their technique is skillful, employing various rhetorical devices, and they are elegant and fluent, with a lasting charm. In terms of language, almost every word is a gem, without a single flaw. It's like a woman whose private life may be dissolute, but who is not only stunningly beautiful but also possesses dignified bearing and proper manners in public, displaying the grace of a noble lady—can you say she isn't a "goddess"? At the very least, she must be a "goddess," right?