Xuanqing Guard
Chapter 104: Dueling in Verse
At this moment, the flower boat had already made its way to the center of the river. The river breeze drifted in through the window, pleasantly refreshing all within. The gentle sound of water lulled the ear, adding an air of wilderness to the scene. With soft beauties by one’s side, it was little wonder the Water Flower House thrived so well—truly a haven for all who cherished elegance.
Yet however fine the atmosphere, it had nothing to do with Shen Hao. He had always deemed himself sharp-witted, able to see three steps beyond each move, seldom finding himself a cat’s paw kept in the dark. But tonight, he’d had his first taste at the hands of Jiang Cheng.
Never in his wildest dreams did Shen Hao imagine he’d be brought along as a gunman.
So it turned out that what Jiang Cheng said in the order about "following directions" was earnest, not just idle evasion—there was indeed a task for him!
But since Jiang Cheng had openly announced it, Shen Hao could not shy away. Moreover, he had realized that Liao Chengfeng possessed little patience for false modesty, so he simply smiled and remained seated, neither shaking his head nor making any polite refusals. In other words, he adopted an air of "I am well able."
With two previous verses as his foundation, Shen Hao now bore the aura of a scholar, and as it happened, the three guests—Liao Chengfeng and his companions—were all connoisseurs of poetry. Indeed, these very amusements had drifted from the Imperial City itself. Thus, at this moment, none of them looked upon Shen Hao as a mere General Flag Officer.
The ones most excited, naturally, were the five songstresses present. The voluptuous songstress seated nearest Shen Hao wished nothing more than to cling closer still. If Shen Hao were to compose something new tonight, might she not gain the privilege of singing it first, thanks to their proximity? Had not that Gongmo Songstress in Li City once obtained his "A Cut of Plum," and was now, or so rumor had it, about to have it ranked among the Green Waist classics!
Who among them was without small ambitions? Yet seeing Liao Chengfeng cradling Lian Xiang in his arms, the other songstresses felt a pang of apprehension, understanding that their little hopes were most likely in vain.
"We must think of a theme!"
"Shall we use ’flowers’ as the subject?"
"Overused, too stale." 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞
"Then, what of ’fine wine’ as the subject?"
Liao Chengfeng still shook his head.
In the end, it was Lian Xiang who, pointing at the nocturnal waterscape outside the window, suggested with a smile, "Why not take ’water’ as our theme?"
Water as the theme?
Excellent! Especially the songstresses found it so. After all, water evoked a sense of melancholy or gentle longing, precisely the moods best suited for verse and song.
The men present voiced no objections either, and Liao Chengfeng, realizing he had rarely used "water" as a topic himself, agreed readily, so tonight’s drinking contest theme was thus decided.
Jiang Cheng cheerfully beckoned Shen Hao to take his side, jesting, "I’m counting on you tonight—help me raise a few extra cups to our distinguished guests."
Though called a drinking contest in verse, it did not, in truth, require a fully formed poem each round. For who could truly rattle off a complete work upon the cup touching their lips? Most composed verse only after mulling over each line and word, and even then, slowly coaxed the pieces into completion.
"Allow me to start! Night breeze stirs, the flower boat rushes, the Jinshui River echoes with laughter and cheer!"
"Bravo!"
"Impressive!"
Shen Hao applauded heartily with the rest, but inwardly mused: Is this all? Is this, heaven help me, not the doggerel of a schoolboy? They dared present such verses here?
Well, such was indeed their level!
Liao Chengfeng and the other two cobbled together three lines of doggerel in turn—bereft of deeper meaning, barely managing rhyme and relevance. Yet they wore the look of men supremely pleased with themselves. Even the songstresses gazed on with admiration, faces aglow with feigned appreciation.
Shen Hao suddenly saw the world as a grand play: whether one thrives or fails relies solely on the art of performance. Of course, never having mingled much in these literary circles, he could not say for certain whether this realm’s poetic standards were high or low.
But this much was clear—the making of such doggerel required a cup of wine in hand. Delicate winecups met with a clink, to be drained in a single draught—much like that familiar urging, "Your move was masterful—let us drink together!"
Yet should one fail to produce verses, matters would not pass with but a sip. Nearby, a servant had already brought forth a sea-bowl the size of a man’s head; whoever lost must drain it in one deadly swallow!
Shen Hao now understood why, despite Jiang Cheng’s tolerance for drink, he had earned the title of "solitary drunkard." He had thought Jiang Cheng only feigned inebriation to save face, but judging by these sea-bowls—each enough to hold two catty or more—a man could hardly bear ten rounds of such drinking, Jiang Cheng included.
"Enough now, Jiang Cheng, your turn. Will you compose your own, or have Shen Hao act in your stead? But let me make this clear: only once! Don’t think to rely on Shen Hao to shield you at every turn." Liao Chengfeng nipped Jiang Cheng’s hopes in the bud.
"Once is enough. I’ll give you all a taste of the sea-bowl’s delights tonight, hehe."
Liao Chengfeng merely shook his head with a smile, ignoring Jiang Cheng. Instead, he turned to Shen Hao: "Shen Zongqi, we await your masterpiece."
The three bosses from the Imperial City had deliberately spoken first; only after putting forth their modest attempts would they have the leisure to enjoy the true verse expected of Shen Hao, whose earlier works had raised their hopes.
Shen Hao did not falter. Following custom, he rose, made a fist-and-palm salute, and declared, "Forgive my humble effort," before reciting:
"A beauty fair as a flower, distant as the clouds above!
High hangs the cerulean sky, below the bright rippling water moves.
The road is long, the soul drifts bitter and remote, dreaming to reach Zhuo Huo Pass, yet never does it come.
Endless longing, consumes the heart anew!"
He had made some changes here, and had not recited the verse in full—just a selected portion. For the drinking contest, this sufficed, and stood many grades above the doggerel produced by Liao Chengfeng and his companions.
It was not a matter of showing off—such disparity spoke for itself. Shen Hao had scrupulously avoided the immortal canons, yet even so, this was no easy task for him.
But what Shen Hao considered "middling" left all present utterly dumbstruck.
Did it fit the theme? There was mention of lucid waters—that is, "clear water"—so naturally, it did. More than that, the scene aboard the boat and the beautiful ladies were deftly woven in, creating a hazy little tale, one that conjured vivid images in the mind, not easily dispelled.
A lovesick scholar yearning for beauty—this, to the men present, meant little; they could only recognize that the verse was good, but not more. Their discernment extended just that far.
But for the five songstresses, a scholar so devoted to beauty—was this not the very figure who visited their dreams? For a while, they sat entranced, utterly captivated.
"Bravo!"
"Truly superb!"
"With this piece, tonight’s contest may already be called perfection!"
Even Liao Chengfeng, usually poised, had become so elated his steady tone grew unconsciously high. Indeed, he loved poetry, and cherished men of talent—so long as interest and profit did not conflict.
"Enough, Shen Zongqi, the piece you composed for Jiang Cheng has sufficed. There remains another. Would you care to rest first, or proceed at once?"
"I require no rest, sir."
No sooner had he spoken than all was still. Even the five women, freshly plucked from their reverie, straightened eagerly, watching Shen Hao expectantly for his next verse.
"Draw sword to cut water—water flows on still; drain the cup to dispel sorrow—sorrow grows heavier still."
This time, very short—just a single line.
But now, it was not the five songstresses alone entranced, but the four high and mighty Xuanqing Guard bosses as well. Even Jiang Cheng, who prided himself on his coarse simplicity, found himself, for a moment, at a loss.