The east wind releases a thousand trees of blossoms in the night. Search: \(¨Complete¨ Book¨God¨Site¨) to read high-quality literature for free.

In the second-floor hall of the Old Rain Tower, Li Pin's clear voice reached everyone's ears. Beside him, Ning Yi was rapidly writing with a brush. With just the first line of the poem revealed, many people's expressions changed. Some were attentive and solemn, carefully awaiting the next line, while others frowned, a bad feeling rising in their hearts.

Among those present, Su Chonghua was more inclined to believe that Ning Yi possessed only minor talents. He naturally didn't believe the story that the *Shui Diao Ge Tou* was written by a Taoist priest. As someone from Yushan Academy, he had a good understanding of Ning Yi's daily activities. His teaching methods were so plain and simplistic as to be almost childish. He might have read the basic classics, histories, philosophers, and collections, but to speak of any real talent seemed unbelievable to him. Even if Song Mao had personally said that Ning Yi had a knack for teaching, Su Chonghua saw it as merely a clever trick, effective perhaps for a short time, but ultimately unsustainable.

Actually, he had no objection to how Ning Yi spent his days. He understood Su Old Master's intentions from the beginning. As someone who had been in officialdom, he had a high tolerance for all sorts of messy affairs. Buying a poem or song to create a reputation as a talented scholar was something he himself wouldn't have hesitated to do in his younger days. Therefore, he never commented on Ning Yi's teaching. But Song Mao's praise was different. When the Old Master talked to Ning Yi about teaching on the first day of the new year, he sensed a strong threat.

Ning Yi had always been low-key, not interacting with too many people, making him invulnerable. As a member of the Su family, after Su Old Master spoke, it was almost impossible to undermine him within the family. But tonight was a good opportunity. He had wandered here unintentionally, and there was no way to avoid it. He thought for a moment and immediately made a decision, asking Pu Yangyi to invite him up. Once he was up here, as an elder, he could ask him to compose a poem, which he couldn't refuse, especially with Xue Jin fanning the flames and so many other literati present. As the saying goes, scholars are jealous of each other. Having overshadowed everyone with a single *Shui Diao Ge Tou* during the Mid-Autumn Festival, and then remaining silent ever since, who would truly admire him?

His scheme was similar to the Su Wenxing's and others' ideas when Song Mao arrived at the Su residence – to have others expose his lack of ability. Su Chonghua was prepared to ruin Ning Yi's reputation tonight. Everything that followed went as he had planned. Amidst the whispers of the crowd, they refused to let him leave. Xue Jin's performance was exaggerated, but it was appropriate here. And his own words were like the last straw that broke the camel's back, falling at just the right moment.

However, if Ning Yi's subsequent gaze surprised him, then the ease with which he began writing immediately made Su Chonghua's heart sink. He realized that his plan had gone awry. And with the appearance of the first line, he understood that at the moment of his greatest triumph in orchestrating this, he had been outmaneuvered.

It was too decisive.

Even though their focus might have been different, both he and Xue Jin felt the same thing. Ning Yi's composure could only prove that he had no problems in this area. The appearance of the first line left others no time to truly ponder it. Of course, a single line could at most be said to be flawless, neither good nor bad. However, moments later, when Li Pin recited "Even more scattered, stars like rain," the initial outline of the poem was already appearing before everyone's eyes. The grand and magnificent atmosphere spread out with the formation of these lines.

*Shua shua shua.*

"Jade horses, carved carriages… the road is filled with fragrance."

"The sound of phoenix flutes moves…"

"The light of jade pots turns…"

"One night—fish and dragon dance—"

As the first stanza was completed, Su Chonghua sat there, sighing softly. He raised the wine cup in front of him, took a sip, and closed his eyes, knowing that his plans for the evening had come to naught. It felt like failing to outmaneuver someone in officialdom, a complete miscalculation, which was never pleasant. He now felt utterly unable to see through this young man before him. On the other side, Xue Jin's mouth was slightly open, his expression astonished. He blinked, unable to speak. The entire hall was silent, some people rereading the poem, the noise from outside drifting in.

If the *Shui Diao Ge Tou* from the Mid-Autumn Festival was gradual, starting from the ordinary and using remarkably subtle techniques to unfold a refined and vast atmosphere, then this poem started with an unequivocal grandeur, like ink splash landscape painting, rapid cursive writing, using the most magnificent brushstrokes to unfold its atmosphere from the beginning. "The east wind releases a thousand trees of blossoms in the night. Even more scattered, stars like rain. Jade horses, carved carriages, the road is filled with fragrance. The sound of phoenix flutes moves, the light of jade pots turns, one night—fish and dragon dance." In just this first stanza, the constantly rising metaphors had already vividly depicted the entire Lantern Festival scene, as if condensing this excitement dozens of times and then redisplaying it before everyone's eyes.

The atmosphere in the hall became somewhat solemn. Ning Yi paused, looking back as if he were surveying the reactions of the crowd, but in reality, he was still paying attention to the moving woman in blue. While writing the poem, he had been glancing at the woman’s actions. She had only glanced in this direction with a puzzled expression, and then focused on moving about, pouring wine and such. At this point, she was leaning against a pillar, her gaze obliquely looking out the window towards the corridor. In the entire hall, probably no one except Ning Yi would notice her.

Ning Yi turned back, swirling the brush in the inkstone, and muttered a line: "Moth eyebrows, snow willows, golden threads…" Li Pin didn't hear clearly: "Hmm?" He saw Ning Yi's brush drop, and then understood.

"Moth eyebrows, snow willows, golden threads…"

The words were still being written. Ning Yi's gaze shifted to the side. The woman in blue turned around again, pouring wine for someone, her gaze moving imperceptibly to the other side. In the corridor, two men in blue had also turned around, looking inside. Pu Yangyi seemed to have noticed this, and a participant of some standing went over to inquire and negotiate, speaking softly at the door. Others were focused on listening to the poem and didn't pay attention.

Ning Yi lifted his brush and wrote the next line, "Laughter and murmurs, a faint fragrance departs."

The two soldiers in blue short jackets ultimately didn't dare to disturb such a gathering of literati. Their voices were also low. Finally, they turned and walked towards the other end of the corridor, looking in through the window as they went. Ning Yi finished writing the line and paused. The two men disappeared from the window, and the woman in blue also walked along the circular path, carrying the wine pot towards the door. She poured wine for people at a table near the door, waiting slightly, probably calculating the time it would take for the two men to go up to the third floor.

"Among the crowd, I searched for her a thousand times…"

In Li Pin's voice, Ning Yi watched the woman's movements from the corner of his eye. At this moment, she finally walked out the door without a sound. She looked towards the end of the corridor, perhaps the men in blue were no longer there. She was about to leave when the next line, "Suddenly, I turned my head," just rang out. The woman seemed to notice something, stopped, and glanced over here, as if slightly frowning. With a fleeting glance, Ning Yi imperceptibly withdrew his gaze, focusing on writing the last line of the poem.

After the last stroke, Li Pin also sighed, his gaze sweeping around: "Suddenly, I turned my head… and she was in the dim light."

As this line ended, someone sighed quietly: "Good…." The courtesan Qi Lan had long been listening with a radiant look in her eyes. After hearing "Among the crowd, I searched for her a thousand times, suddenly, I turned my head… and she was in the dim light," she couldn't help but stand up, wanting to say something or take a step in this direction. But then she realized that it was inappropriate, and gently bit her lower lip, wringing her handkerchief in her hands, turning her head to look to the side. More people were still savoring the imagery of the second stanza. Ning Yi put down the brush. Li Pin carefully picked up the Xuan paper, shook it, and carefully looked at it again before handing it to Pu Yangyi next to him. Looking at Ning Yi, he sighed with an indescribable gaze, then took a step back and bowed.

The first stanza of the poem was extremely prosperous, depicting the Lantern Festival with admirable brushstrokes. Even just this half-stanza was already an astonishingly good poem. However, in the second stanza, it extracted a sense of imagery from this most prosperous depiction. The first stanza entered the world, and the second stanza transcended the world. Under the correspondence of the two, the huge impact was beyond words. Among those present, some were still pondering, some understood, and simply sighed vaguely, their gazes complex. This artistic conception, placed in the present situation, was, after all, somewhat allusive.

Of course, some people were paying attention to the movements of others at the first moment. For example, Xue Jin, who first noticed Qi Lan's standing up. He had said those words earlier, and at this moment, he was directly turned into a laughingstock by a poem. Of course, no one was in the mood to pay attention to him, but he felt somewhat resentful, after all, he was in confrontation with Ning Yi earlier. After a moment, he couldn't help but say: "Then... then why did you tell the elders in your family that the *Shui Diao Ge Tou* was written by a Taoist priest?"

Ning Yi put down the brush, calculating the time when the woman in blue disappeared from the window. He had no feelings for people like Xue Jin. Hearing him speak at this time, he looked at him with a smile: "Brother Xue, from whom did you hear this matter?"

Xue Jin was stunned: "Although it was hearsay, it was vividly described. Did you... did you say it?"

Ning Yi looked at him for a few seconds, blinked, and smiled: "I said it, but rumors stop with the wise. Brother Xue may have missed half a sentence."

During the dialogue between the two, Xue Jin's tone was slightly higher, but Ning Yi spoke indifferently, his voice probably not as far-reaching as Li Pin's. However, as soon as he said this, Su Chonghua also stared, obviously not expecting him to say this. Xue Jin looked surprised, and before he could speak, Ning Yi cupped his hands to the surrounding crowd: "I really have important matters to attend to, not deceiving you, I'll take my leave now, farewell."

Now no one dared to stop him. Some people even cupped their hands in salute, saying: "Brother Ning, go quickly if you have something to do." Or "It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter."

Xue Jin stared: "You..." Before the words could come out, Ning Yi patted him on the shoulder, pretending to say something. Li Pin, Wu Qihau, Pu Yangyi and others all focused to listen. Two seconds later, "That Taoist priest that day..." Only Ning Yi was heard saying: "...recited two poems."

These words were not deliberately lowered. Ning Yi said this seriously, nodded, turned and left, Xue Jin's face turned red for a moment, unable to speak. Xiao Chan, who was originally memorizing the poem behind the others, quickly followed out with a smile. The two of them, one in front and one behind, disappeared on the corridor.

The scene was quiet for a moment. Others couldn't find many topics to talk about. Li Pin looked at the poem and said with a smile: "With this poem, I'm afraid it will be difficult to write Lantern Festival poems."

Pu Yangyi nodded, flicked the Xuan paper, and sighed: "Good poem..." Then he began to pass it around with others. Over there, Qi Lan turned her head and looked at the window where Ning Yi and Xiao Chan disappeared, and sat down somewhat disappointed. After a moment, she smiled again, and talked to the people around her as usual, stirring up the atmosphere, waiting for the poem to be passed over so she could perform it.

Half an hour later, this *Qing Yu An* spread throughout Jiangning...

**************

Let’s talk about preserved duck eggs. Since childhood, Xiangjiao has been eating preserved duck eggs directly. Dipping them in vinegar or soy sauce, or mixing them up this way and that, is not something I like. I can’t really eat them like that. It seems that everyone I know in my area eats them directly. Only poorly preserved ones have an alkaline taste. But I can understand that everyone has different ways of eating them. What I can’t understand is the idea that eating them directly is impossible, or that eating them directly will even kill you… Things in the world are varied, with all sorts of different ways of living, different lives and different happiness. It seems that having a preserved duck egg to eat was quite happy when I was a kid.

It’s the same with MSG. Some people can not eat it, but some people do. It doesn’t seem like there’s anything incomprehensible about that, is there? Many shops still use MSG to bring out the flavor. When I went back to the countryside for Qingming Festival, the dishes there always tasted very fishy, but the people in my hometown thought they were delicious, they were used to it. What would it be like if there weren’t so many seasonings in ancient times? Some people in the book review section have also said that in ancient times, someone became an imperial chef by relying on sea worms. Ninety percent of sea worms is MSG. I won’t discuss this too much.

A new week has begun again, asking for recommendation votes ^_^

There should be another update in the early hours of the morning—possibly tomorrow morning, after all, this chapter was coded too late, I don’t recommend waiting.

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