Chapter 14: Stunning the Audience

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The old man, upon hearing this, became quite interested. Ignoring the ridicule from others, he shouted loudly, “Young brother, you must recite well—don’t disgrace me!”

Meng Yuxi clasped his hands toward the old man and nodded respectfully.

Madam Chang suppressed a smile. She noticed that Meng Yuxi spoke with clarity and logic; he was no idle jester come merely to entertain. Straightening her demeanor, she said, “Everyone, please quiet down for a moment.”

“All right, let’s give Madam Chang some face.”

“Yes, listen first, then laugh.”

Gradually, the crowd fell silent.

“Young master, please begin.”

Meng Yuxi cleared his throat. Since he was borrowing the words of an ancestor, he dared not show the slightest disrespect. Only when complete silence settled did he solemnly begin to recite:

“Outside the curtain, the rain drizzles softly, spring’s warmth wanes, the silken quilt can no longer withstand the chill of dawn. In dreams, one forgets one is but a guest, indulging momentarily in joy. Alone, do not lean on the railing—endless rivers and mountains part us easily, but reunion is hard. Flowing water and falling flowers mark spring’s end, both in heaven and on earth.”

...

When the poem ended, the Jade Cloud Pavilion was enveloped in profound silence for a long while.

Some scholars were so moved that their hands trembled; others had tears glistening at the corners of their eyes, touched deeply by the melancholy of the verse. Especially now, as the Jade Cloud Pavilion was about to leave Su City, the bustling past seemed but a fleeting dream, and parting was forever life’s inevitable destiny.

The old man could not discern the poem’s charm but wore a proud expression, glancing around at everyone.

“Hey, how to judge? Though it’s just a bit inferior to my earlier piece, luckily I set the mood, so it must be a timeless masterpiece.”

“Young brother, don’t think of apprenticing under me; I haven’t taken disciples in many years.”

Meng Yuxi smiled faintly and nodded, “I dare not.”

“Good!”

The old man nodded in satisfaction and stroked his white beard.

“But young brother, no need for regret. To show my apologies for declining, I’ll give you a little trinket.”

He rummaged in his pocket and finally produced a small, gray-black marble.

“This is what I won long ago in a contest; now it’s useless to me, so I give it to you. That settles our accounts.”

Saying this, the old man squeezed through the crowd, cheerfully came beside Meng Yuxi, and proudly displayed the marble before everyone. The entire scene resembled an award ceremony before he handed it over.

Meng Yuxi accepted the marble respectfully, placed it in his bosom, and bowed in thanks to the old man.

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Meanwhile, the others had already begun repeatedly chanting the immortal verses, memorizing them deeply.

Seeing the old man’s smug demeanor, everyone’s teeth itched with anger. They had never seen such a shameless fellow, and they would not allow their literary idol to suffer such humiliation. They erupted into curses.

“This young master is humble; you old lecherous man’s stinking verses could never compare!”

“What nonsense marble—just a child’s toy you old coot!”

“Trying to take disciples? Shameless to the extreme!”

“Scoundrel!”

The old man attempted to retort, but the furious crowd surged forward and hoisted him high.

Meng Yuxi tried to intervene but was restrained by Madam Chang, who tugged his sleeve twice.

“Young master, Miss Qinglian invites you upstairs for a talk.”

When Meng Yuxi turned back, the old man had already been thrown out of the Jade Cloud Pavilion.

Meng Yuxi strolled up calmly with Madam Chang.

“Please, young master, Miss Qinglian awaits you,” Madam Chang said with a smile, pointing to a bamboo door on the second floor, then turned and went downstairs to welcome a new batch of scholars.

Meng Yuxi gently pushed open the bamboo door. Light sand danced softly in the breeze by the window. Outside, a gentle rain was drizzling, while inside, the pale yellow candle flames flickered in the wind.

A delicate woman dressed in white silk stood by the window, admiring the rain. Her black hair cascaded like a waterfall, simply tied back with a white silk ribbon. Even from behind, she exuded a clear, natural, and ethereal grace.

Beside her lay a guqin, quietly resting.

“Outside the curtain, the rain drizzles softly, spring’s warmth wanes... Young master, such picturesque lines, Lian has never heard before.”

“May I know your name, young master?”

The woman turned, and only then did Meng Yuxi meet her gaze. She was elegant and refined, impossible to look upon directly without reverence. If not for a faint melancholy in her expression, he might have thought her a celestial being descended to earth.

“Oh, my surname is Meng, given name Yuxi.”

“Meng Yuxi, Meng Yuxi,” Qinglian repeated softly.

“Well? Do you recognize me?”

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“No, I do not know you. But Lian has heard from her mother that if one knows the other’s name, there will be fate to meet again.”

Qinglian’s face retained that gentle sorrow, while her words seemed both full of feeling and yet detached. Even Meng Yuxi was at a loss how to reply—any misstep might seem frivolous or disrespectful.

Fortunately, Qinglian did not expect an answer.

“Can you play the flute, young master? Would you accompany me in a duet?”

Qinglian sat down and gently lifted the guqin. Beneath it lay an equally simple jade flute.

Only then did Meng Yuxi realize what a regret life can hold. Scratching his head awkwardly, he replied, “I’m afraid my knowledge of music is very shallow and cannot meet your refined taste.”

Qinglian’s expression remained unchanged, showing no disappointment—just that same faint melancholy.

Without another word, she began to pluck the strings, singing the poem Meng Yuxi had just recited.

The melody matched the guqin’s gentle notes exquisitely, fully expressing the lines and their inevitable, helpless fate.

When the song ended, its lingering sorrow brought a tear to Meng Yuxi’s eye.

He sighed, “Though we meet not, our fates move like the stars of the constellations; what night is this tonight, sharing this candlelight.”

Unable to hold back, Qinglian softly wept by the guqin.

“Meng Yuxi, would you accompany me to the capital?”

Qinglian lifted her fair brow slightly, her eyes misted with tears as she asked.

“Yes!”

From downstairs came the cheers of those who had been listening to the music pressed against the walls.

Meng Yuxi dared not show his troubled expression, unwilling to deepen the sorrow of the already grieving young lady before him. In his heart, he thought, this ancestral inheritance truly is miraculous—once borrowed, it becomes uncontrollable. But Miss Qinglian, though I may appear only nineteen, I am already past the age of abandoning everything for love and running away.

“Miss Qinglian, why do you wish to go to the capital? Is there some unspeakable hardship? If you trust me, you may tell me. Perhaps I can help.”