The Pan Residence's Tortoise-Crane Garden: the Zhishui Poetry Gathering had reached its climax. The music played, and slips of paper were passed from hand to hand as songstresses sang the best poems of the evening in their melodious voices. The atmosphere here was more solemn than that of the Puyuan Poetry Gathering, due to the presence of more weighty figures, but the various performances still enlivened the atmosphere with elegance.

The Tortoise-Crane Garden was a beautifully landscaped and classically styled garden, with various rockeries, waterways, corridors, courtyards, and pavilions. Lanterns painted with riddles were placed throughout, and banquets were set up for the guests. The women sat on one side, the students on another, and the host, along with a group of famous and respected elders, on yet another. There was no dedicated stage, but the occasional performances of song and dance scattered throughout the garden were natural and impressive. Many of the performers at this poetry gathering were famous, showing the efforts that had gone into planning this event.

The poetry gathering naturally included elements like lantern riddles, performances, and moon gazing, as well as speeches from several learned scholars. For example, Pan Guangyan, as the host, spoke, and even the Jiangning Prefect had come at the beginning to say something along the lines of "You are all pillars of the nation." This was enough to illustrate the status of the Zhishui Poetry Gathering. Of course, the Prefect had to remain at the Yamen to prevent problems in the city, so he could not stay long and left in haste.

Talented scholars at the poetry gathering often stood up to share their works with the others. Every so often, several high-quality poems would be sent around on slips of paper. If a poem was particularly good or elicited comment, someone would stand up and recite it for discussion. Pan Guangyan and others would naturally offer their commentary.

Old Qin sat on one side of the banquet, next to the still-nobly dressed Kang Xian, also known as Old Kang, who had sparred verbally with Ning Yi. His courtesy name was Mingyun, so many called him Ming Gong. His background was complex, and he was not lacking in wealth, but even solely based on his literary and Confucian cultivation, he deserved to be called Ming Gong. Among the dozens of scholars present, two or three had been taught by him and called him teacher, but Old Kang was always strict, so they were somewhat afraid of him. However, he did not criticize anyone tonight. In fact, he was satisfied with the quality of the Zhishui Poetry Gathering.

He was currently chatting with Old Qin in a low-key manner. At this point, the truly good poems had generally already been presented, so they were discussing these.

"... 'Autumn Equinox night stops, the Yin spirit is most brilliant. It is good to be born in the vast sea, and slowly watch the distant darkness. The layered sky seems to wash away color, and all monsters seem to hide their forms. No other evening is similar; the morning rooster cannot be heard...' Qin Gong, Li Pin of the Lichuan Poetry Gathering truly demonstrated his talent with this 'Mid-Autumn Moon Gazing' poem. Although literature has no first place, it seems to me that this poem will be the most celebrated tonight."

"With both Yin spirits and monsters, he certainly took a risky path, but it gives a sense of grandeur, only stirring the mind and not giving any sense of eeriness. This poem has the style of the Tang Dynasty. Li Pin, Li Dexin, has indeed entered the ranks of the masters. However, Ming Gong, you are always strict with yourself. There are actually several good poems at Zhishui today. Look, for example, at the one from just now."

Old Qin smiled and picked up a poem: " 'The sky is as blue as water, the Milky Way is clear and shallow, and the golden waves are clear. One suspects that Chang'e has hung her treasure mirror high in the Guanghan Palace. The leaves rustle in autumn, the curtains are like paintings, and the osmanthus fragrance is in the wind. Every year on this night, Yu Lou's mood is clear and unsurpassed...' You can't be biased, can you?"

"Haha, you and I are not judges, just appreciating and commenting as we please. How can there be any bias? Hmm, this poem is indeed good..."

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

Old Qin was always low-key, and he had not made any public comments tonight, only talking about these things in casual conversation with friends. In fact, Cao Guan, Cao Zongchen, of the Zhishui Poetry Gathering, and Li Pin, Li Dexin, of the Lichuan Poetry Gathering, were indeed among the most famous talents in Jiangning at this time. The people below were also comparing their poems, although it was said that literature had no first place, they still wanted to compete for verbal dominance.

While everyone was critiquing the poems, Pan Guangyan was also smiling and talking to Cao Guan. After a while, someone sent in new poems, which were divided into three copies and circulated among the crowd.

The truly good poems, those that could enter the hall, were basically not going to appear at this point, but there were still good ones. The crowd laughed and talked as they passed the pages around. One page was passed to Old Qin and Old Kang. Old Qin picked it up, looked at it, and laughed.

"Oh? How so?" Kang Xian asked.

"Hehe, I just didn't expect that the Puyuan side could still produce a good one at this time. Take a look."

"Oh? Puyuan." Old Kang also laughed, took the poem, looked at it once, and then looked at the name below, "Xue Jin," shook his head, and put it down. "Mediocre, passable, but nothing particularly novel."

At this time, someone below shouted, "Gentlemen, I didn't expect that Lichuan could still produce a good ci poem at this time. In my opinion, this one is really not bad."

Someone who knew him laughed, "Then recite it." That person nodded, and after a moment, began to recite the poem: "The tune used here is 'Shuidiao Getou', everyone please listen: 'The autumn sky is as pure as water, the moon mirror is not..."

As he recited this, he suddenly seemed to sense something, turned his head, and looked at the platform where Pan Guangyan and other elders were. An old man had already stood up, holding a slip of paper in his hand, and hurried towards Pan Guangyan, flicking the paper with his fingers, and seemed to be muttering something. This old man was on friendly terms with Old Qin and Old Kang. When he saw him get up, Pan Guangyan had already come over. He put the slip of paper down and said to the people around him in a not-too-loud voice, "Everyone, please look at this."

This was also a "Shuidiao Getou." Seeing that the people on the platform had noticed something else, the person below reciting the poem was stunned. Pan Guangyan reacted, smiled, and waved at him, indicating that he should continue, but he did not look at the slip of paper. After the person finished reciting, he savored it for a moment, smiled, and commented a few words before picking up the slip of paper to look at it. After a moment, he also murmured, frowned, and the crowd below and even the women were looking over.

"Elder He, if there are any good poems, please read them quickly. It's not very kind to keep us in suspense like this."

Pan Guangyan had a very good temper after all. Cao Guan, who was at the head of the crowd, said with a smile. Then others also laughed, and the atmosphere became relaxed for a moment. Pan Guangyan also smiled and said, "It's also a 'Shuidiao Getou'. This poem... I'll read it to everyone: 'How long will the bright moon appear, with wine I ask the sky. I do not know what year it is tonight in the palaces on high... I want to ride the wind and return, yet fear the jade towers and mansions, where it is too cold. I rise to dance with my shadow, how is it like the human world?'"

The words of the "Shuidiao Getou" rang out in the courtyard. Before the upper section was finished, there was no sound of conversation among the crowd present. Pan Guangyan, a great Confucian scholar, was seriously reciting the poem in accordance with the rhythm. He did not read quickly, but in line with the artistic conception of the words, it was done in one go.

The people present were all deeply versed in literature. Just hearing this, they had already realized the ethereal, grand, and far-reaching artistic conception of this poem. The initial question seemed simple. The literary world was thriving at this time, and various poems inevitably pursued complexity, exhausting changes. Some arguments even advocated that if it was a poem about the moon, then it would be best if the word "moon" did not even appear. However, the words at the beginning were a question like "How long will the bright moon appear?" but in conjunction with the next sentence, it had already naturally unfolded the artistic conception. When it came to the palaces on high, the artistic conception of the poem naturally and without abruptness changed from a trickling stream to high mountains and flowing water. The following sentences, "I want to ride the wind and return..." directly transformed the entire upper section's artistic conception into the grand atmosphere of the Yangtze River flowing into the sea. At the same time, it was able to be as ethereal as possible, without any trace of the mundane. In just a few words, it was the celestial palace scene that made people feel refreshed.

Since the Tang Dynasty, poetry had developed for hundreds of years, and there were many works with far-reaching and grand artistic conceptions. However, at this time, many poems often went down the road of exhausting craftsmanship, complexity, and change. If they could come back, there would naturally be masters who returned to simplicity, either simple or complex, each with its own characteristics. However, there were very few whose artistic conception could reach the level of this one. The artistic conception expanded along with the changes in the poem, but it was also effortless and natural to the extreme. It was similar to the free-spirited and unrestrained style of the Tang Dynasty literati who could be unconstrained yet still be on the theme. In just the upper section, the masterly aura of this "Shuidiao Getou" had been fully revealed. Pan Guangyan paused, looked up at the scholars below, and then continued to read the lower section.

"It turns through the vermillion pavilion, lowers to the carved window, and shines on sleeplessness. It should not have resentment, why is it always round when parting... People have sorrows, joys, partings, and reunions, and the moon has waxing, waning, fullness, and emptiness. This has been difficult to complete since ancient times... I only wish that people will live long, and that we can share the beauty of the moon from a thousand miles away."

"... I only wish that people will live long, and that we can share the beauty of the moon from a thousand miles away." The words were easy to read and recite. After finishing reading, Pan Guangyan repeated the last sentence in a murmur, looked at the crowd, and nodded slightly. After a long time, he sighed, "... Good poem." At this time, some of the people in the garden looked at each other, and some murmured the words, and it was unusually quiet. In fact, if it were other words, it would have been fine, but this "Shuidiao Getou" did have the charm of being passed down for thousands of years without fading. In the eyes of poets and lyricists, later generations even commented that "Mid-Autumn lyrics, since the appearance of 'Shuidiao Getou', all other lyrics are废 (abandoned/useless)." At this time, the people present were living by this, and they had been studying poetry for decades, some even for a lifetime. At this time, listening to it, they suddenly felt something like this momentum.

It was also in such an atmosphere that Old Kang reached out and took the slip of paper. First, he looked at it once and nodded slowly. After a moment, when he looked at it again, he seemed to notice something, blinked his eyes in confusion, and exclaimed, "Huh?" Then he frowned and thought about something, with an expressive face. Noticing his appearance, Old Qin, who was still thinking about the words, turned his head.

"What's wrong?"

"Heh... Take a look."

He handed the slip of paper over. Old Qin took it, squinted his eyes, and looked at it word by word, from "How long will the bright moon appear" to "share the beauty of the moon from a thousand miles away" without finding anything wrong. It was indeed a good poem. He exhaled and shook his head gently. Then his eyes narrowed, and he paused.

There were naturally a few words after the lyrics, but at this time everyone was still feeling those sentences, and Pan Guangyan had not yet noticed them.

The lower left corner of the slip of paper had a signature, which clearly read seven words.

—— Su Residence.

—— Ning Yi.

—— Ning Liheng.

Old Qin was stunned, then looked at Old Kang. After a while, he laughed dumbly.

"Ha..."

Above the small building in the Su Residence, Ning Yi got up to drink water and suddenly sneezed loudly, almost choking. He went back to sleep in a daze and pulled the quilt tight.

Well, I hope my cold doesn't get worse...