Great Song Dynasty Writer

Chapter 69: Imitating the Extravagant Style of the Southern Dynasties [Seeking First Subscription!]

Upon hearing Lu Beigu's words, He Cong, who was on the platform, was first taken aback, then burst into laughter.

Laughter echoed through the valley, startling several birds perched on the cliffside cypress trees.

"How utterly ridiculous! Lu Beigu, you've been studying at the county school for years, and every single one of your essays has received a grade below C."

Those who had come with Xianzhen also mocked from behind, saying, "Even if Han Ziyu got up and went up himself, we wouldn't be afraid. Who do you think you are? How dare you spout such nonsense here!"

Lu Beigu ignored their mockery and walked straight ahead.

His steps were steady, and his clothes fluttered slightly in the mountain breeze, giving him an air of detachment from worldly affairs.

Master Baoyue's gaze lingered on Lu Beigu for a moment, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

He gently raised his hand and personally lit the incense sticks beside the cliff cypress with a tinderbox.

"The limit is one incense stick's time."

Master Baoyue said, "There is no need to follow the order of the steps. There is only one table here, so whoever wants to come first can come first."

Feeling somewhat uneasy, He Cong snorted coldly and strode towards the table on the platform.

However, he felt a little dizzy when he got to the platform.

The reason is simple: this platform juts out from the edge of a cliff, essentially making it a precipice.

On the other side of the mountain path, there was nothing unusual, but once he reached the cliff, he saw a sea of ​​clouds churning before him, and a bottomless valley looming beneath his feet. He Cong's calves began to tremble involuntarily.

He knelt before the table, trying his best to overcome his fear, and tremblingly spread out the Xuan paper before beginning to grind the ink.

He picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, and began to focus his attention entirely on the Xuan paper on the table, which was being held down by a paperweight. The fear he had felt when facing the cliff earlier had lessened somewhat.

But when he began to think about how to compose a poem, a fine layer of sweat appeared on his forehead.

He Cong always memorized poems and essays by rote. When faced with a topic that required improvisation, he immediately thought of referring to those poems and essays he had prepared in advance.

But after thinking it over, I felt it wasn't quite right.

After all, the scene before him was completely unrelated to the topics he had prepared, and forcing himself to memorize the script would only backfire.

However, He Cong has, after all, undergone years of exam-oriented education, and has a wealth of experience in handling situations on the spot.

After much thought, he looked at the unique shape of the cliff cypress in front of him and its surroundings and got some ideas, so he started to write.

He Cong's pen strokes landed on the paper, making a soft sound.

The beginning went smoothly, but as I wrote, since it was impromptu and I hadn't prepared in advance, I inevitably wrote a few repetitive sentences.

However, it must be admitted that his test-taking skills, honed over the years, were still quite impressive. In any case, he actually managed to write out the "Ode to the Cliff Cypress" on the spot within the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

The incense is about to burn out.

Master Baoyue coughed lightly: "Time's up."

He Cong hurriedly wrote down the last few words, putting down his pen almost as soon as Bao Yue finished speaking. His front was already soaked with sweat.

Master Baoyue took the poem and looked at it. His expression was calm, and there was no special spark in his eyes.

Then, Master Baoyue handed the paper to a young monk next to him to read aloud.

"A tree grows on craggy rocks, its name recorded in the Yu Gong (Tribute of Yu). It possesses the essence of the mysterious and receives the spiritual energy of Kunlun Mountain. Its trunk is like a jade tablet or a scepter, ringing out like jade. Its leaves resemble wild ducks or phoenixes, fluttering in the frost and snow. It has a rugged and unconventional appearance, and a coiled and crouching posture. It is nourished by the marrow of rocks and cultivated by the roots of clouds."

how to say?

Although it uses many obscure characters and seemingly mysterious words, He Cong's "Ode to the Cliff Cypress" actually only mentions one thing at the beginning: there is a tree here.
"As for the gentle spring mist and the hazy autumn fog, some fish are casting their lines into the deep ravines, while others are seizing precarious peaks. Observe the winding patterns, like the hidden and emerging of the River Chart; the layered rings of the years, like the shifting of the Luo River Chart. The craftsman Shi wields his axe to make dragon-shaped wine vessels; Gongshu Ban wields his square to create tables and desks shaped like clouds and thunder. In the past, when the Duke of Zhou built the Luo River, he used its material to make the pillars of the Mingtang Hall; when Cai Yong passed through Wu, he cut off a branch to make the Jiaowei Qin (a type of zither)."

The second paragraph is even more repetitive and, upon closer examination, mostly meaningless, revolving around the question of "what can wood be used for?" Some parts are even off-topic and have little to do with cliff cypress. However, the third and final paragraph is slightly better, forcibly introducing a central theme.

"As for nobles burning incense, they must choose its roots to make mortars and pestles; eminent monks striking the chime must select its trunk to make mallets. Yet its nature is solitary and steadfast, unlike peaches and plums. It does not sway with the east wind, nor does it wither with the west. Even when it is attacked by miasma and rain, its white beard grows ever more majestic; whenever it is ravaged by severe frost, its green mane grows ever more luxuriant. In the past, Wang Ziyou planted bamboo, but it could not compare to its pure character; Tao Yuanming planted willows, but they could not match its strong integrity."

After listening, Ji Yun muttered something to himself.

"It has nothing to say."

Rao is so.

In fact, just considering the matter of "composing a poem on the spot within a limited time," being able to do it already puts you ahead of many people.

Moreover, it contains many obscure characters and allusions. It can be said that He Cong's poem is not well written and has little content, but his basic skills in composing poems are indeed not bad. The fact that he was able to rank among the top students in the county school shows that he has something to offer.

The onlookers were of course aware of this as well.

Therefore, in everyone's eyes, although Lu Beigu showed great courage, the outcome of the fourth round was almost decided with the release of this "Ode to the Cliff Cypress".

Unless, of course, Lu Beigu also has the ability to compose poems on the spot, and performs them better than He Cong!

Han San Niang looked at Lu Bei Gu with concern, only to see him standing with his hands behind his back, gazing at the thousand-year-old cliff cypress.

A mountain breeze rustled through the pines, causing the pine needles to sway gently. Sunlight filtered through the needles, casting dappled shadows on his face. Lu Beigu's gaze gradually deepened, as if penetrating the scenery before him.

"Time flows on like this, yet it never truly departs."

The first time was the initial idea, and now it's the second time the words have been revised. The Song Dynasty poem that Lu Beigu wants to write has already been transformed into a well-thought-out piece of writing in his mind, along with the vast and boundless spirit of heaven and earth!

Seeing that Master Baoyue remained silent for a long time, He Cong felt somewhat uneasy, even though he thought his writing was alright.

"The structure of the poem is quite neat."

Master Baoyue commented: "However, this poem imitates the ornate style of the Southern Dynasties' parallel prose, but lacks the spirit of 'Lament for the South of the Yangtze River.' It is skilled in crafting sentences but lacks spirit and charm. It piles up stories, describes appearances in vain, and is merely a rambling arrangement. It has nothing to do with the integrity of the cliff cypress. As for the use of allusions such as 'Duke Zhou's establishment of Luoyang' and 'Cai Yong's visit to Wu,' although it shows off erudition, it actually breaks the meaning of the text. Overall, it can only be considered barely satisfactory."

Master Baoyue's evaluation was certainly very fair, but upon hearing this, He Cong, who was always arrogant, still looked rather unpleasant.

He gave a perfunctory bow and walked back.

Xian Zhen patted him on the shoulder and said, "Although it is not as good as the works of the students in the upper and middle classes of the state school, the fact that you can do it on the spot has already surpassed these people."

He Cong thought for a moment and nodded.

That makes sense. After all, the reason why Master Baoyue felt that his writing was too craftsmanly was because Master Baoyue's literary level was too high, not because He Cong's level was too low.

In He Cong's view, Lu Beigu appeared very confident, but when it came to composing poems, he was definitely far inferior to him.

After all, apart from that one biased policy essay by Li Pan, Lu Beigu had never surpassed He Cong in any of the county school's various examinations!

"next."

Lu Beigu bowed to Master Baoyue and then walked to the table.

During the commentary, he had already completed the final "three rounds of word refinement" in the "three-round method" taught by Zhao Bian, and there were no more obstacles in his mind.

The new Xuan paper on the table was slightly curled up by the mountain breeze.

Lu Beigu's wrist hovered over the paper. After a moment's hesitation, he wrote with lightning speed.

"Pretending."

With his mood relaxed after completing the task, He Cong chuckled softly and turned to Xian Zhen beside him, saying, "Let's see what good article he can come up with."

(End of this chapter)