Chapter 13: Stopwater Poetry Gathering

The Hushwater Poetry Gathering at the Pan Estate's Tortoise and Crane Garden was reaching its climax. Music filled the air, and sheets of paper, each bearing a poem, were passed from hand to hand. The clear voices of the female singers recited the excellent compositions of the evening. The atmosphere here was somewhat more serious than at the Puyuan Poetry Gathering, owing to the presence of many influential figures. Nevertheless, various performances kept the mood lively yet elegantly classical.

The Tortoise and Crane Garden was an exquisitely designed space with a timeless charm, featuring rockeries, waterways, covered walkways, courtyards, and pavilions. Throughout the garden, flower lanterns painted with riddles were arranged. Attendees had set up banquets within this scenic setting, with women gathered on one side, scholars on another, and the hosts along with a group of renowned and learned elders on yet another. There was no dedicated stage, yet the song and dance performances, appearing occasionally throughout the garden, felt remarkably natural and impressive. Many of the performers at this gathering were famous top artists, clearly having put considerable effort into their acts.

The poetry gathering naturally included activities like lantern riddles, performances, and moon gazing. There were also speeches from many profound scholars. For instance, Pan Guangyan, the host, and even the Prefect of Jiangning, had made an appearance at the beginning, remarking that "all of you are pillars of the nation." This alone underscored the prestige of the Hushwater Poetry Gathering. Of course, for a night of revelry like this, and to prevent any urban disturbances, the Prefect was customarily required to remain at the yamen. Thus, he couldn't stay long and departed in haste.

If a talented scholar at the gathering had a good piece, they would often stand up and discuss it with everyone. Periodically, several poems and lyrics of sufficient quality would be brought in, and the paper slips would circulate among the attendees for viewing. If a poem was truly excellent or sparked other opinions, someone would stand to recite it and discuss it with the group. Pan Guangyan and others would, naturally, offer their critiques.

Elder Qin sat on one side of the banquet. Next to him was Kang Xian, still dressed quite opulently. This was Elder Kang, who often bantered with Ning Yi. His courtesy name was Mingyun, so many also referred to him as Lord Ming. His background was complex; wealth was certainly not lacking. However, even considering only his literary and Confucian scholarly attainments, they were enough for everyone to call him Lord Ming. Among the dozens of scholars present, two or three had been taught by him and referred to him as their teacher. Yet, Elder Kang was known for his strictness, and many feared him. However, he hadn't criticized anyone tonight; in fact, the quality of the Hushwater Poetry Gathering seemed to satisfy him.

At this moment, he was discreetly chatting and laughing with Elder Qin on the side. In truth, by this point, most of the truly excellent poems and lyrics had already emerged, and the two were discussing them.

"...A whole night of autumnal equinox, the yin spirit most resplendent. How fine it is to be born from the deep sea, watching as it slowly passes through the obscure dark. The layered sky seems cleansed of color, myriad creatures thought to hide their forms. No other evening compares, the morning rooster cannot be heard... Elder Qin, Li Pin's Mid-Autumn poem from the Lichuan Poetry Gathering is truly brilliant. Though it's said there's no first in literature, in my opinion, this poem is likely to be the most outstanding tonight."

"With yin spirits and ghosts, it's a bold and unconventional path, yet it conveys a grand sense, stirring one's thoughts without the slightest hint of eeriness. This poem possesses the lingering charm of the Tang Dynasty. Li Pin, Li Dexin, has indeed entered the ranks of the masters. But Lord Ming, you've always been strict with yourself. Hushwater also has a few good poems tonight, see, like this one just now."

Elder Qin smiled, picking up another: "The azure sky is like water, the Milky Way clear and shallow, the golden ripples pure. As if Chang'e hangs her precious mirror high in the Palace of Vast Cold. Forest leaves whisper of autumn, curtains are like paintings, cinnamon-scented breezes rise. Every year on this evening, the delight from Yu Tower is truly unsurpassed... You mustn't show favoritism, must you?"

"Haha, you and I aren't judges; we're just appreciating at leisure. How can there be favoritism? Hmm, this lyric is indeed excellent..."

"In my view, the two best pieces tonight are among these."

Elder Qin had always been low-key, making almost no public comments tonight, only discussing these matters in casual conversation with friends. In fact, Cao Guan, Cao Zongchen of the Hushwater Poetry Gathering, and Li Pin, Li Dexin of the Lichuan Poetry Gathering, were indeed among the most renowned scholars in Jiangning at that time. The attendees below were mostly comparing their poems and lyrics. While it's said there's no "first" in literature, there was always a spirited verbal debate.

As everyone critiqued the poems, Pan Guangyan was smiling and speaking to Cao Guan. Soon after, new poems and lyrics were brought in, divided into three sets for people to pass around and read.

By this point, truly exceptional poems, those worthy of master status, generally wouldn't be appearing anymore. However, good ones still emerged. Everyone laughed and discussed as they passed a page around. A page reached Elder Qin and Elder Kang. Elder Qin picked it up, then started to laugh.

"Oh? What is it?" Kang Xian asked.

"Heh heh, I just didn't expect Puyuan to still produce a good one at this point. Take a look."

"Oh? Puyuan." Elder Kang also chuckled, read the poem, then looked at the name "Xue Jin" at the bottom. He shook his head and put it down, saying, "Mediocre. Passable, but nothing particularly novel."

At that moment, someone below exclaimed, "Gentlemen, I wouldn't have thought Lichuan could still produce a good lyric at this hour! In my humble opinion, this one is genuinely quite good."

Someone who knew him laughed, "Then recite it!" The man nodded and, moments later, began to read the lyric: "The *shuidiao getou* melody pattern is used here, everyone please listen: 'The autumn sky is clear as water, the moon-mirror rests uneasily. High and alone, music is played, laughter shakes off the dust...'"

As he read to this point, he suddenly seemed to sense something and turned to look towards the platform where Pan Guangyan and the other esteemed elders were seated. An old man had already risen, holding a sheet of paper, and hurried towards Pan Guangyan, his fingers tapping the paper as he seemed to mumble something. This elder shared some acquaintance with Elder Qin and Elder Kang. Seeing him rise, Pan Guangyan had already approached. The elder then lowered the paper and, in a not-too-loud voice, said to those around him, "Gentlemen, please look at this one."

This was also a *shuidiao getou*. Noticing the attention of those on the platform was diverted, the man who had been reciting the poem paused in bewilderment. Pan Guangyan, realizing this, smiled and gestured for him to continue, but did not look at the new paper yet. After the man finished, Pan Guangyan savored the poem, offered a few smiling comments, and then finally picked up the new paper to read. Moments later, he too murmured to himself, his brows furrowed. Everyone below, even the female guests, were looking over.

"Old Man He, if there's any good poem or lyric, please recite it quickly. Keeping us in suspense like this isn't very kind."

Pan Guangyan, being a good-natured man, smiled. Cao Guan, who was among the most prominent figures, spoke with a smile, and then others also laughed, the atmosphere relaxing momentarily. Pan Guangyan also smiled, "This is also a *shuidiao getou*. I'll recite this lyric for everyone: 'When did the bright moon appear? I raise my cup and ask the azure sky. I wonder what year it is tonight in the celestial palaces above... I wish to ride the wind and return, yet I fear the jade towers and grand pavilions, too high and unbearably cold. Dancing with my clear shadow, what is it like compared to the human world?'"

The verses of the *shuidiao getou* echoed through the courtyard. Before the first half was even finished, all conversation among the attendees ceased. Pan Guangyan, a great scholar of literature, meticulously recited the poem in his hand, following the rhythm. Though not fast, his recitation flowed seamlessly, perfectly aligning with the poem's imagery and mood.

The assembled individuals were all deeply versed in literature, and merely by hearing this much, they had already grasped the ethereal, grand, and far-reaching imagery of the lyric. The opening question seemed simple. In this flourishing literary era, various poems and lyrics often sought complexity and exhaustive variations, with some theories even advocating that a moon poem was best if it didn't use the word "moon" at all. Yet, this lyric began with the question, "When did the bright moon appear?" — but combined with the next line, it naturally unfolded its imagery. Upon reaching the "celestial palaces above," the poem's imagery smoothly and seamlessly transformed from a babbling brook into a mighty river flowing down from the mountains. And the subsequent lines, "I wish to ride the wind and return...", directly expanded the entire first half of the lyric into a grand atmosphere, like the Yangtze River rushing into the sea. At the same time, it remained so ethereal, without a trace of earthly dust, just a few lines painting a refreshing image of an immortal palace.

Over centuries of literary development since the Tang Dynasty, there had been many works with profound and grand imagery. However, by this time, many poetic works often pursued the path of exhausting elaborate rhetorical changes. While there were also masters who could return to natural simplicity, whether simple or complex, each style had its own characteristics. Yet, very few could achieve this level of imagery—an imagery that expanded with the poem's progression, yet felt effortless and utterly natural. It resembled the unbridled, unrestrained, yet perfectly thematic style of literati during the flourishing Early Tang Dynasty. In just this opening stanza, the masterly quality of this *shuidiao getou* was fully revealed. Pan Guangyan paused, looked up at the gathering of scholars below, and then continued to read the second stanza.

"'The crimson chambers, the low silk-curtained doors, lit by the sleepless. One should bear no grudge, why is the moon always full at parting... People have sorrow and joy, reunion and separation; the moon has its waxing and waning, its clear and its obscure. This has been hard to perfect since ancient times... May we all live long, and share the beauty of the moon, though a thousand li apart.'"

"...May we all live long, and share the beauty of the moon, though a thousand li apart." The lines were resonant and catchy. After finishing, Pan Guangyan murmured the last line again, looking at everyone, nodding slightly and continuously. After a long moment, he finally sighed, "...What a splendid lyric." At this point, some in the garden exchanged glances, while others murmured the lines to themselves, an unusual silence settling over them. Indeed, other verses might have simply passed, but this *shuidiao getou* truly possessed a timeless charm that wouldn't fade even after a thousand years. In the eyes of poets and lyricists, later generations would even comment, "Mid-Autumn lyrics, once *Shuidiao Getou* appeared, all other lyrics became obsolete." The people present made their living from this very art; they had studied poetry and prose for decades, some even their entire lives. Upon hearing this, what they suddenly felt was perhaps precisely such a profound power.

In this very atmosphere, Elder Kang reached out and took the paper, first reading it once, slowly nodding his head. Moments later, when he looked again, he seemed to notice something, blinking his eyes in surprise and letting out an "Eh?" He then furrowed his brows, pondering something, his expression a mixture of emotions. Noticing his reaction, Elder Qin, who was still contemplating the verses, turned his head.

"What's wrong?"

"Heh... take a look yourself."

He handed the paper over. Elder Qin squinted, reading it word by word, from "When did the bright moon appear?" all the way to "share the beauty of the moon, though a thousand li apart," finding nothing amiss. It was indeed a fine lyric. He exhaled softly, shaking his head gently, then his eyes narrowed, and he paused.

There were naturally a few more words after the lyric, but everyone was still absorbing the verses, and Pan Guangyan hadn't paid attention to them yet.

At the bottom left of the paper was the signature, clearly written with seven characters.

—Su Estate.—Ning Yi.—Ning Liheng.

Elder Qin froze for a moment, then glanced at Elder Kang, and after a while, burst into silent laughter.

"Ha..."

In a small building at the Su Estate, Ning Yi climbed out of bed to get some water, then suddenly let out a loud sneeze, almost choking. He groggily went back to sleep, pulling the covers tight.

Hmm, my cold isn't getting worse, is it...?