Great Zhou Wensheng

Chapter 117 A poem stigmatizing Da Fu, presented to Zhao, the transport commissioner!
The Duke of Xue's Mansion.

In the study in the backyard, the candlelight flickered.

"Zhao Bingzhu of the Zhao family, how dare you!"

Jiang Xingzhou's slender fingers gripped a confidential letter, his knuckles turning white. Dark clouds loomed outside the window, but they couldn't conceal the icy anger emanating from his words.

"I originally thought the Zhao family was just keeping some traitorous lackeys and doing some shady business. Who would have thought that Zhao Bingzhu, this scoundrel, would actually be a complete and utter leader of a traitorous race!?"

He slammed the secret letter onto the table.

One after another, confidential letters were laid out on the sandalwood table:

[Secret] An ambush was set up in the middle of the river to snipe at the three hundred students' warships in Jiangyin.

[Secret] The map of the Jiangyin sluice gate has been altered. On the first and fifteenth nights of each month, demon soldiers and generals can enter and exit by taking advantage of the tides.

[Secret] Jiang Xingzhou, three chapters out of the county, five chapters to the prefecture, must take advantage of the Dragon Boat Festival to eradicate it!
Jiang Xingzhou's eyes flashed with a cold light like a sword.

He pondered for a moment,
My gaze was fixed on the signature at the end of the letter—"Xia Shijiu".

This name is extremely strange and definitely not used by humans!
Even literary figures would never use such a vulgar number when choosing a pen name.

As far as he knew, the fish and shrimp demons of the East Sea reproduced extremely quickly, with hundreds or even thousands in a single brood. When they were young, they were mostly named according to their serial numbers, and only when they were promoted to demon generals could they be given their full names.

Looking at the handwriting again, it was crooked and scraggly, like a shrimp or crab crawling, so crude and bad that even a child learning to write wouldn't be this clumsy.

"Could it be... a shrimp demon?"

Jiang Xingzhou looked at the mailing address and found it to be a remote town in Taicang County, Jiangzhou Prefecture—very close to the East China Sea coast.

"The Zhao family colluded with the East Sea Demon Court, so it's inevitable that they exchanged secret letters! This shrimp demon is probably part of the chain, secretly intercepting some of these secret letters?"

—Very likely!
Jiang Xingzhou's gaze turned slightly cold.

This shrimp demon took a huge risk to send himself secret letters from these traitors who colluded with the East Sea Demon Court.

He couldn't remain silent and let the shrimp demon's heart grow cold!

After a moment's thought, he picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote a short poem on a blank sheet of Xuan paper. The next day, he had the courier send it back the way it came.

"A Gift to Xia Shijiu - Zhu Yihou"

[With double clamps and a thick beard, a long spear is drawn from the top.]

He bowed deeply before King Tang of Shang and was granted the title of Marquis in Red Robes.

Communicating with the demon race must be done with utmost caution, leaving no room for error. This letter is the shrimp race's way of requesting a title from the human race's Holy Emperor Shang Tang.

If the other party is truly a shrimp demon, they will surely understand the deeper meaning and be overjoyed.

Jiangzhou Prefecture is only a day's journey from the coastal Taicang County.

The next day, late at night.

Shrimp Nineteen wrapped himself tightly in a black robe, hunched over, and stealthily made his way to a secluded house in the town.

The Taicang post station handles numerous letters from ordinary people every day. The houses here are inconspicuous, but they are the transit point for the Zhao family to secretly communicate with the East China Sea.

Its trembling claws pushed open the wooden mailbox—

"Wow!"

A letter lay quietly inside.

Its material is completely different from the letters used in the Zhao family.

Shrimp Nineteen's pupils suddenly contracted, and the muscles under its shell tensed up abruptly, almost causing it to jump up.

It suppressed its elation and clumsily tore open the seal with its pincers—

There was nothing else on the letter.

Only four lines of ink, flowing like clouds, clearly indicate that it is a poem about leaving the county!

[From "A Gift to Xia Shijiu - Zhu Yihou"]

With its twin pincers bulging and its beard bristling, it draws a long spear from the top!
He bowed deeply to King Tang of Shang and was granted the title of Marquis in Red Robes!
moment,

Shrimp Nineteen's pupils widened in disbelief, and its whiskers trembled violently!

"Zhu... Marquis Zhu Yi?!"

The shrimp's antennae trembled, and its pincers gripped the letter tightly.

"This is equivalent to being granted a title of nobility!"

Its eyes were bloodshot, and its shell rustled with excitement.

In the poem, the "twin pincers bulging with thick beard" describes such a majestic figure!

What power it is to "draw a spear from the top"!
"Bowing before King Tang of Shang" signifies paying homage to the holy king of humanity. In this world, how many are qualified to receive such an audience and be granted a title by a holy king?
This poem, every line and every word, is full of appreciation and praise for the shrimp tribe!
Each word was like a thunderclap, exploding in its heart.

"Young Master Jiang is clearly hinting and encouraging me. My ambition is to be ennobled!"

Shrimp Nineteen's tail curled up, actually cracking the bluestone slab. "The status of a Demon Marquis far surpasses that of a Demon General! Like the White-browed Marquis of the frontier, he rules over a region and is worshipped by all demons!"

It froze in excitement, its whiskers drooping.

Among the demons of the East Sea, shrimp soldiers have always been the lowest of cannon fodder.

Even among 100,000 shrimp soldiers, it's difficult to find a single demon general, let alone a demon commander or a marquis.
Countless fellow demons spend their entire lives merely as food for powerful demons, leaving behind not even a complete corpse.
"This world"

Shrimp Nineteen's claws trembled in shock, and murky tears welled up in his compound eyes. "Only Young Master Jiang has been so generous with his praise for me, Shrimp Nineteen, and the Shrimp Clan!"

It suddenly stood upright, its long, slender shrimp blades and shell gleaming with an iron-blue hue in the morning light.

"I, a shrimp, am nineteen in this life—"

"I swear I will never be a general!"

He will surely become a demon lord!

Its hoarse, low roar echoed as its black robes fluttered in the wind.

Soon, it treasured the letter "The Marquis in Red Robes" close to its body, and the ink in the poem left an incomparably hot mark on its heart through the letter paper.

After the Dragon Boat Festival, Jiangzhou Prefecture appeared calm on the surface.

Although the Jiangzhou government and Jiangzhou Academy increased their manpower to thoroughly investigate the assassination case at the dragon boat race, the traitor and the demon general assassin were all killed and shattered to pieces, and all clues were lost.

Aside from strictly checking entry and exit at the city gates and increasing night patrols, the government was at a loss for what to do.

However, beneath the seemingly calm surface, a momentous event is stirring up waves in Jiangzhou City—

The old master of the Zhao family, the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner, Zhao Huai, is celebrating his 70th birthday!

Everyone in this prefecture knows that the Zhao family, the transport commissioner, is one of the ten most prominent families in Jiangzhou Prefecture and the wealthiest family in the prefecture.

Grandpa Zhao Huai celebrated his 70th birthday in a grand and extravagant manner.

On his birthday.

After the end of the academy term.

"I'm going to celebrate Old Master Zhao Huai's birthday—to give him a huge gift! Would you all like to come and see what's going on?"

Jiang Xingzhou stood with his hands behind his back under the corridor of the prefectural school, his blue robe fluttering slightly in the wind, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Upon hearing this, the scholars behind him erupted in uproar.

"Brother-in-law!"

Xue Fu stamped his feet in frustration, "That old scoundrel allowed Zhao Zilu to tarnish your literary reputation, and you still went to congratulate him on his birthday?"

"The past is like smoke, it's all in the past."

Jiang Xingzhou lightly brushed the fallen petals off his sleeve. "Zhao Zilu has also been stripped of his qualification for the prefectural examination and has been severely punished. This matter is now considered closed."

I, Jiang Xingzhou, am a man of broad mind and magnanimity; I am not one to nitpick over trivial matters.

He looked around at the crowd, his smile deepening: "Would you all like to come along?"

Lu Ming's eyes darted around.
He immediately guessed that Jiang Xingzhou wanted to teach the Zhao family a lesson and take the opportunity of this birthday banquet to return the humiliation of the past.

Suddenly, he clapped his hands and laughed loudly: "Brother Jiang, you have such a generous spirit! This 'gift' must have some hidden meaning—let's go together, how can we miss such a lively occasion?"

"I wonder what kind of generous gift Brother Jiang has prepared?"
The Zhao family is the richest family in Jiangzhou, wealthy and powerful. They wouldn't even deign to offer ordinary money or low-grade literary gifts; in fact, they'd be looked down upon!

Cao An asked out of curiosity.

Jiang Xingzhou laughed loudly, "How could something as worthless as money be worthy of a scholar's hands? Naturally, I will present you with a poem."

"Sending a poem?!"

"Brother Jiang's poem has reached the prefecture level, not just from the county! This is far more valuable than money!"

Everyone gasped in surprise, and the corridor fell silent.

In Jiangzhou Prefecture, who doesn't know the value of Jiang Xingzhou's poems?

Countless people within this manor have longed to request a single poem from Jiang Xingzhou, yet have been denied!
Any poem written outside the county or prefecture will be recorded in the county or prefecture's Confucian temple, and will be admired and studied by the local scholars for generations. How can gold and silver possibly measure its value?

To this day, in the entire Jiangzhou Prefecture, only Xue Lingqi, the eldest daughter of the Xue family, has been fortunate enough to receive a poem, "A Spray of Plum Blossoms - Full Moon Over the West Tower - Presented to Xue Lingqi," from Jiang Xingzhou, which has been sung far and wide—that is a masterpiece of the highest caliber!
Countless young ladies from prominent families are filled with envy!
Lu Ming's Adam's apple bobbed, and his voice trembled: "Brother Jiang gave me a poem? Even Prefect Xue and Lord Zhou didn't receive such treatment. Does Zhao Huai deserve it? I'm afraid he can't accept it!"

“You’ll find out when you get there.”

Jiang Xingzhou waved his sleeves and stepped out of the academy gate first.

"go!"

"Go together, go together!"

The scholars looked at each other in bewilderment, and then followed one after another, suddenly realizing that this birthday banquet at the Zhao family mansion would probably be recorded in the annals of Jiangzhou.

The Zhao residence was located on a main street in Jiangzhou Prefecture, a bustling area.

The entire main street was already stained vermilion.

Strings of lanterns with the character for longevity hung high under the eaves, swaying gently in the morning breeze and casting a red glow on the bluestone path.

Firecracker debris covered the ground like red snow, and gunpowder smoke mixed with sandalwood incense lingered in the streets and alleys.

"Master Li has arrived! Wishing Old Master Zhao boundless happiness!"

The gatekeeper's voices rose and fell in a continuous stream.

The gilded carriages of the ten great families of Jiangzhou rolled over the red carpet, and the exquisitely embroidered curtains were lifted to reveal smiling faces.

The officials in charge of the canal transport wore brand-new official robes, and the jade belts around their waists gleamed in the sunlight.

Even more impressive were the wealthy merchants from all directions, carrying loads of gift boxes filled with various South China Sea corals and Western Region jades, their foreheads glistening with sweat as they lined up in a long queue in front of the mansion.

"Make way! Make way for Scholar Wang!"

Amidst the servant's shouts, a dark green sedan chair carried by eight men landed steadily.

The sedan curtain was not lifted.

The head steward of the Zhao family hurriedly led twelve servants to greet them at the foot of the stone steps—such a spectacle drew gasps of amazement from the onlookers in the teahouses along the street.

"Did you see that? Even Wang Juren, the leader of the Jiangzhou Salt Gang, has come to offer his birthday wishes!"

"What's that? That was Lord Shen from the Jiangzhou Prefecture Textile Bureau!"

Whispers spread among the surrounding crowd.

Everyone knew that those who could step into the Zhao mansion today were either powerful nobles who held the reins of power or wealthy tycoons. Every time the vermilion gates opened and closed, a servant would announce the gift list loudly, the clinking of gold and jade could be heard from miles away.

Several streets and alleys were already packed with tens of thousands of onlookers.

The women stood on tiptoe, and the children rode on their fathers' shoulders, their eyes filled with envy.

"Did you hear that?"

A man with a blue headscarf clicked his tongue, "The Zhao family alone employs seventy-two chefs, each specializing in Huaiyang, Shandong, and Sichuan cuisine, with their own row of stoves!"

An old man selling steamed buns nearby quickly chimed in: "More than that! My nephew works odd jobs in an opera troupe. He said the mansion has set up seven stages and hired more than a dozen opera troupes to perform a full ten days and ten nights of continuous opera!"

On the second floor of a tavern on the street, several idlers leaned against the carved railing, pointing and gesturing.

At the side gate of the Zhao residence, porters were seen carrying wine jars with red seals in a single file. The jars were covered with gold-painted stickers with words like "Shaoxing" and "Xinghua Village" that dazzled the eyes in the sunlight.

"Look!"

Suddenly someone exclaimed.

Everyone turned to look towards the dock. Three cargo ships adorned with red ribbons were slowly approaching the shore, and laborers were chanting as they unloaded goods—

Dried abalone from the South China Sea is wrapped in red silk.

The bear paw from the northern frontier was served in a bronze ice vessel.

There were even baskets and baskets of live crabs, foaming at the mouth.

"What a terrible thing to do!"

An old woman looked blankly at him and muttered, "This is enough for all the ordinary folks in our alley to eat for half a year."

"Who says it isn't?"

The silk shop assistant jogged through the crowd, carrying a piece of brocade that shimmered and sparkled as he ran.

He didn't even have time to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and repeatedly apologized to the pedestrians blocking his way: "Excuse me! This is the new fabric that the third young lady of the Zhao family wanted, and we can't delay it!"

Even at the street corner tea stalls, the storyteller struck his gavel and said, "To tell you the story of Old Master Zhao's seventieth birthday, it is a grand event in our Jiangzhou Prefecture. The birthday banquet alone cost at least several hundred thousand taels of gold and silver!"

Before he finished speaking, a group of listeners had already gathered around the stall, their ears perked up, and they were all speechless with astonishment.

The bloody stench of the Dragon Boat Festival case has long been washed away by the joy and celebration throughout the city.

Suddenly, a commotion was heard in the distance.

Several sharp-eyed people suddenly exclaimed, "Look! Isn't that Jiang Xingzhou and his group of scholars from Jiangzhou Prefecture?"

The crowds on the streets and alleys suddenly stirred and parted like a tide to make way.

The people looked around,

But see,

At the end of the long street, a group of scholars in blue robes came gracefully, their feet crunching on the red dust scattered on the ground.

The young man at the head of the group wore a moon-white long robe, the hem of which fluttered slightly in the wind. The clear sound of the jade pendant at his waist even drowned out the firecrackers on the street.

"It's Young Master Jiang!"

A woman cried out in alarm.

Hundreds of scholars from the prefectural school followed closely behind. The Xue brothers walked with a brisk pace, Han Yugui gently waved his folding fan, and Cao An and Lu Ming chatted and laughed as if nothing had happened.

The sword at Li Yunxiao's waist jingled as Shen Zhiyun and Du Qingyin walked by, chatting and laughing.

All the outstanding talents from prominent families and humble backgrounds in Jiangzhou's five counties and one prefecture were now gathered behind that moon-white figure.

The area in front of the Zhao residence fell into complete silence.

The servant who was reading the gift list opened his mouth but forgot his words, while the wealthy merchant who was holding the coral froze in mid-air.

Even the longevity lanterns hanging under the eaves seemed to stand still and sway, casting only a patch of light and shadow on the bluestone slab.

"Young Master Jiang!"

The head steward of the Zhao family was startled, and cold sweat instantly beaded on his forehead.

Although Jiang Xingzhou was only a Xiucai (a scholar who passed the county-level imperial examination), his reputation in Jiangzhou Prefecture was far higher than that of most Juren (successful candidates in the provincial-level imperial examinations).

The head steward, clutching the hem of his robe, staggered down the steps, his back bent so low it almost broke: "It is truly an honor for our humble abode that you, along with the students of the various academies, have graced the Zhao residence with your presence!"

Jiang Xingzhou smiled and nodded.

"Quickly! Please enter through the middle gate!"

The head butler shouted hoarsely, his voice distorted.

A vermilion gate leads to a courtyard adorned with lanterns and colorful decorations.

Jiang Xingzhou looked up at the golden plaque above the door that read "Family of the Grand Canal Transport," and a faint smile appeared on his lips.

Jiang Xingzhou, dressed in white, led the students through the corridors of the Zhao residence.

The Zhao residence was brightly decorated and filled with the sounds of clinking glasses and toasts, but it fell silent the moment Jiang Xingzhou and the other students from the academy stepped into the main hall.

Zhao Huai, the transport commissioner, was raising his cup and chatting with the guests, including members of the nine prominent families and scholars from Jiangzhou Prefecture, when he heard the announcement and paused slightly in his cup.

He slowly raised his head, a hint of surprise and doubt flashing in his aged eyes—the Zhao family had a dispute over the defamation of Zhao Zilu and Jiang Xingzhou, and had always been at odds with Jiang Xingzhou, a fact known to everyone in Jiangzhou Prefecture.

Today, this "Number One Talent of Jiangzhou" has actually come to visit in person?

The guests looked at each other in bewilderment, and even the music unconsciously lowered its pitch.

Jiang Xingzhou, however, was solemn and respectfully bowed deeply to Zhao Huai: "I have come here to congratulate Old Master Zhao on his 70th birthday! May your happiness be as boundless as the Eastern Sea and your longevity as enduring as the Southern Mountain pine! May your legacy in the Grand Canal bend last for a thousand years, and may the Zhao family's achievements last for ten thousand generations!"

His voice was clear and resonant, standing out in the quiet hall. “I am but a humble student, and have prepared a long poem of five hundred words to celebrate your birthday, sir.”

"A long poem to celebrate a birthday?"

Zhao Huai was taken aback.

The flickering candlelight in the hall illuminated the gold powder on the Xuan paper, making it shimmer and the smile on Jiang Xingzhou's lips appear ambiguous.

The hundreds of guests present were all shaken as they gazed at the white-clad figure bowing deeply.

"Pity"

Someone let out a soft sigh, a sigh that seemed to express the thoughts of everyone present.

Wang, a scholar from the Grand Canal Gang, stroked his wine cup, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes;
Li, a salt merchant from Suzhou, stroked his beard, shook his head, and gave a bitter smile.

Even Shen, the scholar who sat upright in the weaving bureau, couldn't help but close his eyes and sigh deeply.

Who would have thought—

Jiang Xingzhou, the most talented scholar in Jiangzhou who became famous in the county with "three poems that reached the county and six poems that reached the prefecture", and who stood out from the crowd in the Dragon Boat Race during the Dragon Boat Festival, is now bowing down to the Zhao family and eagerly coming to present a poem to celebrate their birthday!

"Even with a wealth of talent, he can't compare to the Zhao family, one of the ten most prominent families in Jiangzhou!"

Someone murmured softly,

The flickering candlelight in the hall made the gold scroll in Jiang Xingzhou's hand appear particularly dazzling.

Zhao Huai stroked his beard with great satisfaction, a hint of pride hidden in the wrinkles around his eyes.

The hall was filled with dignitaries and nobles, who had all become spectators of this play. Look, the pen that once pierced the blue sky of Jiangzhou Prefecture is now dipped in gold dust and filled with flattering words to celebrate the birthday of the Grand Canal Transport Commissioner!

"Good! Good!"

Suddenly, Zhao Huai, the transport commissioner, burst into laughter, his voice booming like a bell, "Young Master Jiang is very thoughtful!"
Someone, bring me pen, ink, paper, and inkstone!
Also, be sure to frame this poem and hang it in the main hall of my Zhao residence for all the guests to admire and appreciate!

The butler hurriedly stepped forward, holding a long, blank scroll of Xuan paper in both hands, his fingertips trembling.

Congratulations, Mr. Zhao!

"Once this poem is completed, my literary fame will surely soar!"

Upon seeing this, the assembled scholars and guests all raised their cups in agreement.
But the crisp sound of the wine cups clinking together clearly concealed a meaning that was hard to explain.

Jiang Xingzhou straightened up, his white robes standing out starkly against the backdrop of the embroidered hall. He walked to the long table in the hall, pondering as he prepared to begin writing.

"I did not know this poem by Jiang Lang."

Old Master Zhao Huai's cheeks twitched slightly, and he couldn't help but ask, "I wonder if this is a work written outside the county, or a piece written in the capital?"

Before he could finish speaking, he realized he had lost his composure—

How many years has it been since I've felt this eager?
Jiang Xingzhou, dressed in pristine white, gently stroked the jade pendant at his waist upon hearing this, and after a moment's thought, said, "This poem has been brewing for over a month; I dare not say it is anything extraordinary."

He suddenly raised his eyes, a sharp glint in them, “But the reputation of [Da Mansion] is beyond doubt. It’s enough to make Old Master Zhao’s name spread throughout Jiangzhou Prefecture, and even the entire Jiangnan Circuit, leaving a lasting legacy!”

No scholar in Manjiang Prefecture dared to claim that their poems and essays would reach a certain level of quality before they were even written!
But Jiang Xingzhou dared to do so, because every article he wrote was written in the style of a county or prefecture!
"Good! Good!"

Zhao Huai was overjoyed and slammed his hand on the table, causing the golden goblet on it to shake.

This cunning old fox, who had been in charge of the canal transport in Jiangzhou Prefecture for over a decade, now sounded like a greenhorn just entering officialdom, even his voice had changed tone:

"If you can truly reach the capital, I will take charge of all the grudges between you and Zilu—" he waved his hand, "and they will be wiped clean and vanished without a trace!"

"master"

The butler's hands, which were holding the scroll, were trembling.

"please!"

Zhao Huai stroked his beard and laughed heartily, his eyes crinkling with joy.

The money he's amassed over the years is so much that the warehouse can't hold it all;

In terms of power, even the prefect of Jiangzhou Prefecture had to give this transport commissioner some respect. And the guests present were going to great lengths to curry favor with him.

But this title
As Zhao Huai gazed at the scroll of gold paper, he seemed to see his own name, drifting with the fragrance of ink throughout the ten prefectures of Jiangnan Circuit in the Great Zhou Dynasty.

Which scholar in the Great Zhou Dynasty didn't want to leave his mark on history?

Even a Jiangzhou transport commissioner like him, who was tainted by money, sometimes dreamt of leaving his mark on the literary scene of his prefecture and region.
"This is Dafu!"

The wealthy salt merchant, Master Li, muttered to himself, unaware that the jade cup in his hand was tilting.

If he could receive a poem from Dafu, he would be willing to kneel down and become Jiang Xingzhou's godson, let alone reconcile with him!
Jiang Xingzhou stood with his hands behind his back, pen in hand, seemingly lost in thought, drawing the intense gazes of everyone in the room.

A gust of wind swept in from outside the hall, causing his clothes to flutter, as if he were in the real world.

The scroll of gold-flecked paper, laid out on the long table in the hall, reflected the candlelight and seemed almost to burst forth from the paper.
The air was filled with the fragrance of sandalwood.
He wasn't in a hurry to put pen to paper; his gaze seemed to drift casually towards the doorway, as if he were waiting!

When Prefect Xue and Lord Zhou arrived at the Zhao residence.

"Young Master Jiang"

The butler held up the finest pine soot ink, seemingly wanting to say something but then stopping himself.

The guests held their breath, but no one dared to urge them on. That was a poem by the Da family! Even if they had to sit there all day, let alone wait for a short while, it would be worth it to witness the birth of a masterpiece.

Zhao Huai suppressed his anxiety and stared at the long scroll of Xuan paper in front of Jiang Xingzhou.

Sure enough, a commotion suddenly broke out outside the gate of the Zhao residence a short while later.

"Prefect Xue has arrived!"

"Professor Zhou has arrived—"

The two announcements were like thunderclaps.

Upon hearing this, the assembled dignitaries rose in astonishment. The two most powerful and renowned officials of Jiangzhou Prefecture had arrived!
Asking for a monthly ticket!
(End of this chapter)