"…Bravo, Green Jade Table: New Year's Eve!"
Master Huai Lin nodded emphatically, exchanging glances with the Hanlin scholars before sighing. "Zhao Xunan, it's a tragedy that you share this era with other scholars of Great Qin."
Zhao Xunan blinked, confused by the elder's words. Xu Yun, the Hanlin Reader-in-Waiting, also sighed. "A single Green Jade Table: New Year's Eve might exhaust the literary talent of Great Qin for decades. How can anyone else rise to prominence alongside you?"
Another scholar chimed in, admiring. "In terms of policy essays and poetry, you stand unchallenged among Great Qin's current literati!"
The three elders' praise stirred the crowd. Though scholars often scorned one another, Zhao Xunan's verses truly left no rival. Hundreds of talented youths exchanged glances, their eyes lingering on the young man as if witnessing the rise of a new literary star.
Zhao Xunan, startled, clasped his hands and repeatedly dismissed the praise as the elders' generosity. Master Huai Lin waved off the commotion, instructing a servant to present silver notes. "Consider this a share of the proceeds. Tonight's poems have been compiled into a collection—titled Green Jade Table: New Year's Eve."
As the saying goes, "Jade reflects light, fish and dragons dance all night." The gathering at Xiaolin Villa stretched till dawn of the first day of the New Year. In the carriage, Zhao Ping'er slept soundly, while the mixed horse trotted gently forward, the chill of early spring carrying the distant crackle of firecrackers.
Leaning against the window, Zhao Xunan smiled at the lively spring scenery. "Orioles vie for sunlight, swallows return; willows are green, grass like silk. Year of the New Dawn—splendid!"
He didn't rush his journey. By the third day of the New Year, he finally set out again. Pan Shi City, the capital of Zhili Province, lay only six hundred li from the Jade Capital. With the spirit-enhancing medicine-infused cooking water, the mixed horse could cover the distance in a day, but Zhao Xunan preferred to savor the trip, stopping to admire mountains and rivers along the way.
What should have been a tense journey to the imperial exams became a leisurely tour. Yet the influence of Green Jade Table: New Year's Eve exceeded his expectations. At every stop, local scholars awaited him, eager to accompany him on excursions. When literati gathered, poetry contests followed. By the time he neared the Jade Capital, Zhao Xunan had penned over a hundred verses, each a masterpiece.
His poems celebrated Great Qin's rivers and mountains, brimming with patriotic passion. Many scholars were awestruck, dubbing him "Mr. Mountains and Rivers." Enthusiasts even compiled his journey's verses and past works into a collection, Collected Poems of Mr. Mountains and Rivers, which sold out instantly. Reprints flew off the shelves, and by the start of the New Year, his name was known across Great Qin—except in remote areas, where no literatus remained unaware.
"…Sitting in the carriage, wealth flows in. Do you understand the value of knowledge now, girl?" Zhao Xunan handed Zhao Ping'er a thick stack of silver notes, feeling a tinge of sentiment.
They say "men fear fame, pigs fear plumpness," but Zhao Xunan found fame agreeable. With the title "Mr. Mountains and Rivers," booksellers vied to publish his works, sending him shares of profits without him lifting a finger. These merchants were clever—they tracked his itinerary precisely, delivering earnings every three days, along with fine pastries and fruits.
Zhao Ping'er giggled, clutching the silver notes. Her small pouch overflowed, so they'd moved the lot to an inlaid sandalwood box, brimming with nearly ten thousand taels. But her smile faded as she sighed.
"Master, when we were kicked out of home, we had only a few hundred coins. We couldn't even afford white flour pancakes. Back then, our biggest wish was to eat our fill of them—nothing else mattered."
"Money keeps pouring in now, but my heart feels empty."
"…Burn it. Toss all this stuff away, and your heartache will vanish," Zhao Xunan said, shaking his head.
He reached for her hands, jangling the gold and jade bracelets she wore. "These are too flashy—you'll attract trouble!"
"Can't!" Zhao Ping'er yanked her hands back, pouting. "These are my treasures. Heartache be damned—I'd die before letting go!"
"Stubborn, shallow girl!" Zhao Xunan feigned exasperation, though her glittering hairpins made it hard to stay mad. "You're practically asking for trouble—you can't even make a fist without knocking something over!"
In the Jade Capital's imperial study, the young emperor sat on a soft couch, absorbed in Collected Poems of Mr. Mountains and Rivers. Beside him lay a thin booklet: Zhao Xunan's Six-Nation Treatise from the Autumn Examinations. The Hanlin scholars had copied it in tiny seal script, but the emperor found the original—written in rigorous clerical script, brimming with patriotic melancholy—far more moving. It was now a national treasure, preserved in the Imperial Academy.
"The Phoenix—your former betrothed's literary talent is astounding. He single-handedly carries eight-tenths of Great Qin's literary spirit!" the emperor remarked, eyes fixed on a particularly moving passage.
The Phoenix, seated at a desk writing, frowned. "A fawning, spineless weakling. What good is talent without character?"
"Don't judge by hearsay," the emperor chided. "You've never met him since childhood. How can you call him weak?"
"My mother wrote that he sowed discord between my parents, that he once drew his sword on a servant—cowardly and base!"
The emperor sighed. "You know only your mother's side. For years, I've watched him endure injustice yet remain kind. His 'weakness' is but a cocoon—he'll emerge a moth."
The Phoenix fell silent, but her skepticism remained.
"'Gazing at the endless sky, I weep alone'—isn't that a profound line?" the emperor pressed.
The Phoenix nodded reluctantly.
"'East Wind blows a thousand flowers overnight, stars fall like rain'—isn't that magnificent?"
She nodded again.
"His Six-Nation Treatise—isn't it a masterpiece that unites the world?"
The Phoenix hesitated. The treatise, which clarified the chaos of warring states, was unmatched in its insight.
"Cultivation focuses on the self; Six-Nation Treatise benefits all under heaven," the emperor said. "Since ancient times, how many celestial cultivators have left such a legacy? His name will outlive yours, Phoenix. Even among scholars, he's the true pillar of the nation—you can't compare."
Such praise, save from the emperor himself, would have earned a lightning strike from the Phoenix's sect. But she only frowned deeper.
"Even if his talent and character surpass mine, what of it? He'll remain a mortal scholar, while I'll ascend to heaven as an immortal. How can he compare?"
The emperor sighed, knowing no words could bridge her prejudice. "'The universe stretches vast; I grieve alone'—isn't that a line of depth?"
The Phoenix nodded.
"'East Wind blows a thousand flowers overnight…'—isn't that grandeur?"
She nodded again.
"His Six-Nation Treatise—isn't it wisdom for all ages?"
The Phoenix remained silent, lost in thought.
Back outside, hundreds of scholars and courtesans swarmed Zhao Xunan at the city gate, their enthusiasm almost overwhelming.
"Welcome, Mr. Mountains and Rivers!" A rotund young man, his waist thicker than Zhao Xunan's, gripped his hand, grinning. "I'm Lü Qingcai, president of Jade Capital's Spring Appreciation Poetry Society. My father's Li Bo Yun, Minister of Rites!"
Ah, a son of an official. Zhao Xunan exchanged pleasantries, but before he could slip away, two dozen plump scholars and a dozen courtesans swept him into a decorated building.
"Mr. Mountains and Rivers—another toast!" Lü Qingcai raised a cup, clinking it against Zhao Xunan's.
After downing half a catty of strong liquor, Zhao Xunan roused himself. "Lü Xiong, why this sudden warmth? Speak plainly."
Lü Qingcai grinned. "Scholars in Jade Capital are proud—they'd never welcome a young upstart. But hundreds joined our society today. We want you to join, and split profits from your works five ways."
Zhao Xunan blinked. The Poetry Society wasn't about literature—it was about profit.
"Your name and 'lightness' don't match," Zhao Xunan said, wiping his face with a damp cloth.
Lü Qingcai chuckled. "I 'lighten' the burden of talent; I 'heavily' pursue profit."
Zhao Xunan laughed. "Minister Li must have a grudge against me!"
After clarifying terms, Zhao Xunan agreed to join. Lü Qingcai, astonished, said, "I've never met a scholar so straightforward!"
As the night deepened, Zhao Ping'er sat beside him, her face blotchy with red lipstick from the courtesans' kisses. "Master—they bit me too!" she complained, tears in her eyes. "How will I show my face now?"
Zhao Xunan chuckled, shaking his head. "Let them bite. Your face is still prettier than mine."
Outside, the feast raged on, but Zhao Xunan's mind wandered. The title "Mr. Mountains and Rivers" had brought fame, but also a storm of expectations. What lay ahead?