Chapter 30: A Thousand Years of Style

Listening to the last sentence, the group of ministers feel puzzled, this poem since the spring appeared in the capital, has long been spread throughout the world, in addition to the big river’s big words some read uncomfortable, many poets have always thought that this poem is not a trace of picky, but the essence of the last four lines, do not know why Zhuang Mo Han said the opposite.

Only to hear Zhuang Mo Han coldly said: “The reason why the first four lines are good, not because the last four lines are not good, but because …… the last four lines, not written by Fan Gongzi!”

At these words, there was an uproar in the hall, and then it immediately turned into a deathly silence, with no one opening their mouths to speak.

Fan Xian pretended to be stunned, but understood many things, but calmed down, his drunken body stayed diagonally on a few, looking at Zhuang Mo Han with a smile on his face.

A few months ago, Lin Wan’er had said that someone in the palace had said that she had copied this poem, and at the time she had not cared, but she had not expected it to be today’s outbreak. Guo Baokun stirred up this matter, obviously with the authorization of a certain nobleman.

After he entered the capital, the only thing he could take advantage of was his so-called reputation in writing, and if she destroyed all his reputation, in such a world that emphasized the virtues of writing, he could only take the initiative to withdraw from the marriage.

Fan Xian listened to Zhuang Mo Han read the first four sentences and then his heart was at ease, seeing that Zhuang everyone still did not know that the Yangtze River was the Yangtze River, he knew that what he was most afraid of did not happen. If he wanted to accuse himself of plagiarism, Zhuang Mo Han could only rely on his own learning and reputation to press people, and that was all.

I just don’t know, how did the Princess persuade Zhuang Mo Han, who has always had an excellent reputation, to come all the way to be a villain.

After a long time.

His majesty’s brow wrinkled, to know that plagiarism, but an extremely serious accusation, if Zhuang Mo Han does not have any credentials, would not dare to talk so much in the palace of Qing.

“Empty words have no proof.” Fan Xian has been sitting beside the Ministry of Rites Minister Zhang Ziqian smiled and said: “Mr. Zhuang Mo Han generation of everyone, students are often holding Mr. note scripture study, the world, naturally no one dares to doubt Mr. speak. But the matter involves plagiarism, perhaps Mr. was blinded by a villain.”

He glanced at his superior’s son, Guo Baokun, and did not scruple much about revealing who he said the villain was.

Zhuang Mo Han raised his head, full of wisdom in the eyes, floating out a trace of complex emotions: “This poem after four lines, is the family teacher traveled in Tingzhou made, because it is the family teacher’s legacy, so the old man has been treasured in my heart for decades, but I do not know where Mr. Fan is the chance to get this rhetoric. Originally, the pearl buried in the dust can see the light of day again, I also feel good. But Mr. Fan used to invite fame, but for my husband do not want, the scholar emphasis on cultivating the heart to cultivate morality, the article rhetoric is the end of the road. I love talent as my own life, and I don’t want to rashly point out this matter, so I intended to come to Qing to see what you are like, but I didn’t expect that Mr. Fan wouldn’t know how to repent, but instead would be even more victorious.”

Fan Xian nearly lost his laughter, thinking Shameless ah Shameless, but the bystanders could not laugh, and the atmosphere in front of the hall had long since become very depressing. If this matter was true, not to mention that Fan Xian would no longer have the face to enter the official world of literature, even the face of the entire Qing court would be lost.

The world’s scholars all valued Zhuang Mo Han’s character and morals, and could not afford to be skeptical. What’s more, Zhuang Mohan said that it was written by his own teacher, and with the world’s scholars respecting their teachers, it was like taking their teacher’s character as proof, who would dare to doubt?

The officials in their hearts have already decided that Fan Xian’s poem was copied, and looked at him with some strange and disgusting eyes, but they can’t let this kind of thing become a fact, after all, it involves the face of the dynasty and the country of Qing, so His Majesty the Emperor coldly looked at Shu Wu, the university scholar of Wen Yuan Pavilion, and after a moment of embarrassment, Shu stood up in embarrassment, and saluted to Zhuang Mo Han first: “I have met your teacher. ”

This Shu Daoshi tasted traveling in Northern Qi, taught under Zhuang Mo Han, so to meet with the ritual of teacher and student. At this time, he had long believed Zhuang Mo Han that Fan Xian’s poem was copied, but under His Majesty’s stern gaze, he had to stand up and speak for Fan Xian: “Teacher, Mr. Fan has always had poetic talent, and even this short song line earlier was also brilliant, if we say that he copied it, it is really hard to believe, and it seems that there is no need to do so either.”

By this time, Zhuang Mo Han had also sat down, coughed twice more, and said gently, “Shu Wu, could it be that you suspect that the old man is stealing the name of his late master.”

Shu Daoshi sweating profusely, even said dare not, no longer care about the emperor’s cold eyes, honestly retreated back. At this time, if there is any doubt, it is like saying that Zhuang Mo Han is a shameless person without a teacher and father, no one dare to take this reputation.

But the emperor is not a general reader, he is not Shu Guifei, not the empress dowager, he simply do not like this Zhuang Mo Han, so coldly said: “Qing first focus on the law, and Northern Qi that kind of weak look is somewhat different, Mr. Zhuang if you want to point to the crime of people, you need to have some evidence to be.”

All the ministers could hear that his majesty was angry, in case Zhuang Mo Han really pointed out that Fan Xian had plagiarized, I am afraid that Fan Xian would have a hard time getting ahead again.

Zhuang Mo Han smiled faintly and asked his entourage behind him to take out a piece of paper, saying, “This is the handwritten letter of my master, if a Fang family comes to see it, they will naturally know the age.” He looked at Fan Xian and said sympathetically, “Mr. Fan originally had poetic talent, but the meaning of painting a tiger was too strong, but he didn’t know that poetry is the voice of the heart, how about the last four words of this poem, with Mr. Fan’s experience, how can he write it?”

At this time, only Zhuang Mo Han’s slightly old, but incomparably stable voice of poem interpretation could be heard in the hall: “Ten thousand miles of sadness in autumn, how cool it is? A hundred years of sickness, it is the late master when the wind and candle age alone to ascend the heights, that monstrous river, the eyes are full of coldness …… Fan son is still young, I do not know this hundred years of sickness what is the explanation?”

The more Zhuang Mo Han said, the more the crowd felt that such a poem, categorically can not be a young man to write out. Hearing Zhuang Mo Han’s voice once again resounded: “Frosty sideburns are the luxuriant hair, Mr. Fan has a head of dark hair dashing, it is not too strong to say that the sadness is a little.”

Zhuang Mo Han finally said softly, “As for this last sentence of scribbling new stop turbid wine cup, first of all, regardless of the fact that Mr. Fan’s family history is glorious, what scribbling can be said, but said the new stop turbid wine cup five words, I’m afraid Mr. Fan doesn’t understand why the late master said so.” He looked at Fan Xian, and his brows seemed to be somewhat intolerant, “The late master had a lung disease in his later years, so he could not drink alcohol, so he used the word new stop.”

Once these words came out, the ministers of the Qing Kingdom finally let out their breath, that piece of paper wasn’t even needed anymore, just these unexplainable issues. The charge of Fan Xian’s plagiarism was just extremely difficult to escape.

It was at this moment that a burst of applause suddenly rang out from the quiet palace!

Fan Xian, who had been seemingly drunk, suddenly stood up and looked at Zhuang Mo Han with a smile, slowly putting down his palms, and in his heart, he did have one more point of admiration, who was Mr. Zhuang’s teacher, naturally, no one knew, but the other party was able to deduce from the poem that the old Du’s body had been infected with a disease, and really deserved the title of the first literary master of the current generation.

However, Fan Xian knew that the other party was framing himself today, and that paper was only afraid that he had also dealt with it earlier, so he couldn’t admire it in the end, and a trace of impetuousness appeared on his clear and uncluttered face, and said with a drunken smile, “Mr. Zhuang is actually even not wanting to take your teacher’s face off today, and I really don’t know what it is that makes Mr. disregard his past reputation.”

The bystanders thought that he was suffering from insanity after being revealed, his speech had become progressively unbearable, and they all frowned. The Empress softly instructed those around her to go and call for the guards to come in, lest Mr. Fan do something sensational. Unexpectedly, His Majesty coldly waved his hand, letting everyone listen to Fan Xian.

Fan Xian staggered out, amused sneer in his eyes, and shouted, “Wine come!”

The palace maid at the back didn’t dare to come forward when she saw his maniacal expression, but a minister, who had always felt injustice for Fan Xian, carried over a wine altar of about two pounds from the back and sent it to Fan Xian’s body.

“Thanks!” Fan Xian laughed, a slap to break the sealing clay of the wine pot, lifting the pot and drinking, like a whale sucking in the long sea, but in a few moments of work will be the pot of wine pulp poured into the abdomen, a hiccup after the wine, the wine will be great, this day he drank very much, at this time the urgent wine a catalytic, but also a rosy face, eyes crystal moist, body is shaking.

He staggered to the chief like a dance, pointing at Zhuang Mo Han’s nose and said: “This everyone, you really insist on this statement?”

Zhuang Mo Han sniffed the smell of wine that hit his face and said with a slight frown, “It’s good that you have a repentant heart, why do you have to hurt yourself so much.”

Fan Xian looked into his eyes and smiled slightly, his speech seeming a bit unclear: “Everything has its cause and effect, Mr. Zhuang accused me of copying these four lines from my late master, I wonder why I copied them? Could it be that by virtue of the previous short song, the late student will not be able to win this life after the name?”

The five words of life before and after the name is very good, even Zhuang Mo Han also some moved, his heart is somewhere important, under the compulsion, today greatly hindered the life of the clear, deliberately framed this young man in front of him, has been intolerable, slowly moved his head away, said faintly: “Perhaps Mr. Fan this poem is also copied.”

“Copied from whom? Could it be that if I write a poem, I copied it? Could it be that Mr. Zhuang’s disciples are all over the world, and his poems are known all over the world, so he is qualified to determine that the late student copied it?”

Seeing Zhuang Mo Han’s fingers gently tapping the scroll on the table, Fan Xian sneered, “Mr. Zhuang, this kind of trick is fine to fool children, but if you say that I copied your master’s poem, then I wonder why this poem has never appeared in the world before I wrote it?”

Zhuang Mo Han didn’t seem to want to argue with him, but Fan Xian said in a soft voice: “Mr. said, my head is not white yet, so I can’t talk about the frost on my temples, and my body is not sick, so I can’t be sick for a hundred years. …… However, Mr. doesn’t know, my life is most like nonsense, and I want to start from scratch again, and you don’t know about my past, and you wronged me and harmed me, what’s so wrong about that? Injustice I harmed me, how uninteresting.”

I don’t know whether he really drank too much, or had a rare opportunity to vent his long pent-up frustration, Fan Xian’s face that was so clear and uncluttered steeply developed a few more crazy colors.

“Poetry is the voice of the heart.” Zhuang Mo Han looked at him and said gently, “Little friend Fan doesn’t have this past, so how can he write this poem?”

“Poetry is the way of literature.” Fan Xian looked at him and said coldly, “This way of poetry is always about genius, perhaps my poem is a strong statement of sadness, but who says that something you haven’t experienced can’t be turned into your own poetry?”

His words were extremely arrogant, actually comparing himself to a genius, so he used this to prove that all of Zhuang Mo Han’s earlier poetic inferences did not exist!

Hearing this, Zhuang Mo Han’s eyebrows slightly frowned, and said with a bitter smile, “Could it be that Mr. Fan can write wonderful words at anytime, anywhere, that have nothing to do with what happened to him?” This great man did not believe it, even if he was a genius in poetry, he would not have such a skill.

Seeing that the other party had fallen into his own reckoning, Fan Xian smiled faintly, took the wine pot from the other party’s table without any courtesy and took a sip, quietly looking at him, the drunkenness in his eyes getting stronger and stronger, and then he suddenly waved his green sleeve and drank three times in a row:

“Paper!”

“Ink!”

“Come!”

The drunken man drank three times, and all the people in the hall did not understand what he meant, only His Majesty still calmly instructed the palace maid to follow Fan Xian’s instructions, and in a moment’s time, he had prepared all of this. A large empty field was vacated in front of the palace, and only one several inkstones stood alone and proudly in the center.

Fan Xian was a bit unsteady, and reluctantly saluted His Majesty, saying, “Borrowing Your Majesty’s pen eunuch for a moment.”

Although the emperor did not understand what he meant, he still slightly sank his jaw and agreed. One of the pen eunuchs walked over to the table and sat down, laying down white paper and studying the ink. Unexpectedly, Fan Xian forced himself to hold back his wine and shook his head, “One is not enough.”

“Fan Xian, what are you fooling around with?” The crown prince, who was quite close to him, finally couldn’t help but speak up. However, the Emperor was still full of calmness as he granted his request, but a smile gradually penetrated his gaze, as if he had guessed what was about to happen soon.

Fan Xian smiled and glanced at Zhuang Mo Han, the drunkenness in his eyes grew even more, and said to the three eunuchs around him who were waiting with their pens, “I’ll read, you guys write, and if you’re slow and don’t copy it down, I’m not going to write it down a second time.”

These three eunuchs were nervous for no reason. Many people were speculating about what Fan Xian was going to do, and how he could convince the world that he was the true poet of his generation between Zhuang Mo Han and him. It was not long into the night, and the late summer night breeze was not very cool, but the atmosphere in the arena was somewhat similar to that of the drums rising above a battlefield.

“…… Wildfire cannot be eliminated, the spring breeze blows again and again …… Chaotic flowers gradually want to fascinate people’s eyes, shallow grass can only have no horse hooves …… The sky and the earth are long and sometimes end, this hatred has no Endless.”

Without warning, without brewing, Fan Xian blurted out a paragraph, all of which were made by Bai Juyi, and in a short while, there were more than a dozen. He stood beside the books, his eyes gazing out at the night outside the palace, chanting all the famous poems he could remember in his strange brain, and a few eunuchs waved their pens and scribbled rapidly, but they could barely keep up with his speed.

The crowd was silent, savoring it.

Faced with an endless stream of conspiracies and calculations, under the strong pressure, he finally broke out at this time, under the madness, just focus on the poem memorized in his brain recited aloud, neither cared about the eunuchs to remember or not, also do not care about the bystanders to hear and understand or not. Those words of his past life, through his thin lips, echoed continuously in the palace of the Qing Kingdom.

Zhuang Mo Han’s eyes gradually started some very wonderful changes.

And the courtiers who were just purely watching at the beginning, at this time finally couldn’t help but mutter in their hearts, these poems they hadn’t heard a single one of them, but they were indeed extremely marvelous lines, could it be that …… all of them were made by Duke Fan?

“The evening sky wants to snow, can drink a cup of nothing ……” This is Bai Le Tian drinking wine.

“Jun don’t see ……” Next it’s Taibai’s turn to drink.

“To the shadow into three people ……” This is Taibai still drinking wine.

“But so that the host can intoxicate the guest ……” This is still Taibai drinking wine.

“Those who abandon me, yesterday’s day can not stay; those who mess up my heart, today’s day more worries ……” This is Taibai has been drinking too much.

The people in the hall no longer cared about the sin of losing decorum before the king, gradually sitting around Fan Xian, listening to a poem recited from his mouth, his face written with shock and unbelievability. How a poem, everyone has ears, the world is quite a lot of talent, but since the ancient times, there will never be a scene like today.

I have seen writing poetry, have not seen so writing poetry! Poetry was definitely not like carrying large vegetables in a vegetable farm, but countless verses that had never been cut off came out of Fan Xian’s mouth as if they needed no thought, and there was no difference between them and carrying large cabbages!

Although some of these poems used strange phrases, that was because the ministers hadn’t been aware of the allusions in that world, the ministers were still appalled and horrified, and all of …… these poems were masterpieces!

Fan Xian still didn’t stop. At this point, the ministers began to look at Fan Xian in a strange way, thinking that the young man in front of them was no longer a member of the mortal world, but a celestial being. Alarmed, a sober Wen Yuan Pavilion minister took the place of the three eunuchs whose wrists were exhausted and began to bury his head in his pen to copy down the verses that would die as soon as they were uttered, as young Lord Fan had said earlier, he would only say it once.

Fan Xian is not aware of the scene around him, he still closed his eyes, his brain turns very fast, one side is recalling these verses, but on the other side is thinking about the action later, if the ministers know that at this time he has time to think about something else, I am afraid that it will be even more horrified.

He felt his mouth a little thirsty, so he put his hand to the side of the air, there is a wise teacher of the Imperial College has taken the wine over, carefully placed in his hand, for fear of disturbing his mood at this time.

From the poetic scriptures in the gentleman’s Marty, to Gong Zizhen’s ten thousand horses, Tang time bright moonlight, Song time spring river wood, Du Fu cover grass room, Su Dongpo cooking Huangzhou fish, Du Mu whoring, Mei Sanchang also whoring, Yuan Zhen once Cangcang wrapped a second wife, Li Yi’an Jinxue no reason to think of Huayan, Ouyang Xiu love to brake niece (this is a wrongful death of the case of suspense).

Fan Xian closed his eyes, drink a mouthful of wine, “for” a poem, three pots of wine, three hundred poems!

In the vast palace, there seemed to be countless shadows and lights flying, gradually condensing into images that only he could see clearly with his eyes closed. Those were the poets of his past life, the old and young handsome men of his past life, singing softly under the bamboo, baring their bellies on the beds, in the pavilion on the main road with the wind blowing fast, and by the riverside with sadness in their tears.

This was all of his past life, all of Fan Xian’s past life, in such an abrupt way, descending steeply into the world of Qing, striking at the hearts of all. Fan Xian was fighting Zhuang Mo Han with the help of countless thousands of people in his past life.

He snapped his eyes open and looked coldly at Zhuang Mo Han, but it was as if he was looking at some world further away.

“Don’t you see, the water of the Yellow River comes from the sky.” Who could be more spontaneous than Li Bai?

“The waves are exhausted, and a thousand winds and streams of men have flowed through the ages.” Who can be more heroic than Su Shi?

“Last night’s rain was sparse and the wind was sudden, so I slept in a deep sleep, but I couldn’t finish my wine.” Who can be more graceful than Li Qingzhao?

How can one man be a match for a thousand years of style?

With a crunching sound, Zhuang Mo Han’s trembling hand finally couldn’t hold the wine cup anymore, and the wine cup fell on the green stone ground, turning into countless fragments.

Quiet, a silence.

I don’t know how long it took, but Fan Xian finally stopped this crazy performance, but the people in the hall of the Qing Dynasty Palace still couldn’t get out of this mood, and the maestro and eunuchs who had already changed a few rounds were the first ones to wake up, dropping down to sit on the ground, stroking their sore right hands, and looking at Fan Xian with a look like a god.

Fan Xian had drunk too much and staggered over to Zhuang Mo Han, stretching out a finger to point at his nose, shaking it, hiccuping before saying softly:

“Annotating scriptures and interpreting texts, I’m not as good as you. Writing poetry this kind of thing, you …… are not as good as me.”

The hall was still quiet, so although this sentence was spoken extremely softly, it fell clearly into the ears of the crowd. At this time, the courtiers, of course, to this sentence is incomparably believe, they for small Fan Lord’s poetic talent has long been the body to throw oneself into the ground, no matter how high reputation Zhuang Mo Han, but if the poetry and literature together, any scene to listen to Fan Xian “recite” the ancient famous poem three hundred, in the days to come, it is impossible to believe that, there will be someone’s poetic talent than Fan Xian. It was impossible for any of them to believe in the future that anyone’s poetic talents could surpass Fan Xian’s.

Not to mention the plagiarism issue, the crowd had long believed Fan Xian’s claim that there were so-called geniuses in the world, who could write poems that were just as heart-stopping without having to go through certain things. What was that? That was a means that only immortals in poetry could have! Copy you MB, attack you MB!

Since no one believed that with Fan Xian’s talent he still had to copy poems, then naturally Zhuang Mo Han was lying. At this time, all the people in the hall looked at Zhuang Mo Han with disappointment, pity, and contempt, thinking that this great man of his generation, who had lived half of his life with a clear reputation, had actually lost his virtue in his old age and was competing with the younger generation for fame.

Zhuang Mo Han looked at Fan Xian as if he was looking at a monster, his eyes showed a bleakness, and for some reason, suddenly his chest was stuffy, and he covered his lips with his white sleeve, and spat out a mouthful of blood.

His Majesty’s face looked like a smile as he looked at Fan Xian and said, “With this great talent, why don’t you show it on weekdays?”

Fan Xian, seemingly drunk but not drunk, looked back at His Majesty and said, “Poetry and literature are things that cultivate the senses, and are not techniques for fighting.”

This is a bit shameless, is he not considered to be fighting bravely tonight? Just see Fan Xian finally can’t stop the belly full of whining alcohol, a butt fell sitting on the imperial steps, squinting at the lips slightly trembling Zhuang Mo Han, muttered: “I’m drunk and want to sleep and go to the king, go to your mother.”

Finally finished the last POSE of Li Taibai’s year, Fan Xian entered the drunken dream under the feet of the emperor’s old man.