Chapter 101: The Battle of New Terms (Please Subscribe)

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After Fang Xian carefully copied down the poem "Shui Diao Ge Tou" and signed it with the title "Fang Xian, scholar of Kaiyang Commandery," Wu Qingluan held the manuscript, reading it over and over again. Whenever she looked at Fang Xian, her eyes shone with admiration.

The next day, the courtesans of the Jiao Fang Si were the first to receive copies of this "Shui Diao Ge Tou." Wu Qingluan had arranged for dozens of copies to be transcribed overnight and sent to the Jiao Fang Si offices across the various commanderies of Wu Kingdom. Naturally, she kept the original manuscript by Fang Xian for herself.

The Jiao Fang Si, an official imperial institution, housed courtesans who were often the wives or daughters of disgraced officials. Most of these women were extraordinarily talented in both beauty and the arts. Upon receiving this poem, the entire Jiao Fang Si erupted with excitement.

“When will the bright moon appear? I raise my cup and ask the azure sky.”

“I dance, casting a clear shadow—how unlike life among mortals.”

“People experience sorrow, joy, parting, and reunion; the moon waxes and wanes, full and crescent—such matters have long been imperfect.”

“But may we all live long and share the beauty of the moon, even thousands of miles apart.”

Many of these courtesans had sorrowful pasts or once harbored passionate love. The poem deeply moved them, awakening bittersweet memories and melancholic longing.

As tears streamed down their faces, the courtesans sang the verses, gradually setting the words to music and practicing the melody. Their intermittent singing drifted out from the Jiao Fang Si, drawing the attention of many scholars.

By noon, at various teahouses along the Qingyue River, groups of scholars gathered in threes and fives, calling friends together. Suddenly, someone said, “Gentlemen, I hear that the courtesans at the Jiao Fang Si have received a new poem and are rehearsing it. I caught a line: ‘I do not know the palace in the heavens—what year is this night?’ What do you think of these two lines?”

“It sounds quite good, but I wonder what the entire poem is like and what subject it deals with,” one scholar replied, reciting the lines thoughtfully.

“Why don’t we all go to the Jiao Fang Si tonight to listen? Perhaps some scholar has found a way to gain entrance there and hopes to make a name for himself,” another said with a smile.

“That’s unlikely. Master Shi Hongchang’s ‘Autumn Night Moon’ is still widely praised. Anyone trying to outshine him now will only be laughed at,” a skeptic remarked.

“Exactly. If this scholar were already famous, it might be different. But if he is just an ordinary man, people will mock him for overestimating himself,” another agreed.

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Before long, news spread that the Jiao Fang Si would unveil a new poem that evening. The information reached not only the scholars but also some literati and imperial officials in Wudu. Everyone resolved to attend the performance.

“Young Master Shi, I hear the Jiao Fang Si will present a new poem tonight, and many are already comparing it to your ‘Autumn Night Moon,’” said a courtesan as they gathered around a disheveled young man reeking of alcohol in the famed Red Moon Pavilion by Qingyue River.

“Hmph, among all the talented men today, who can rival Young Master Shi?” another courtesan sneered.

“Indeed, it’s just some boring people trying to piggyback on his fame. They’ll be humiliated in the end,” one nodded.

“‘Before the honored guest, idle and with furrowed brows, sighing deeply, evoking endless old grief.’” One courtesan softly chanted Shi Hongchang’s lines, then added, “I don’t believe anyone’s poetry can rival his. From now on, I shall sing only his poems.”

“Tonight, we’ll take the pleasure boat over and blockade the gates of the Jiao Fang Si. Let’s see if they dare to compare any more rubbish poems to my master’s great work,” Shi Hongchang said with a swagger, pulling a courtesan close as he waved his hand.

“Not just us—we should call all the courtesans from the surrounding establishments to join. A blockade like that will be much livelier,” another courtesan laughed.

“Excellent idea! Come, come, a reward for that,” Shi Hongchang laughed heartily, beckoning the courtesan over and pulling her into his embrace.

Soon, the news that Young Master Shi intended to blockade the Jiao Fang Si spread like wildfire. Every brothel and teahouse along the Qingyue River was stirred, especially as Shi’s invitation to join in was met with enthusiastic responses from other courtesans.

“Manager, there’s trouble,” the steward of the Jiao Fang Si reported immediately upon hearing the news.

“What kind of trouble? Is there a fire? Have the courtesans all fled?” The steward in charge, a palace eunuch surnamed Li, frowned in concern.

“It’s said that the esteemed scholar Shi Hongchang, upon learning of our new poem’s debut tonight, has threatened to blockade the doors. And not just him—all the courtesans from the Qingyue River’s establishments plan to join.”

“What? That’s serious,” Li said, his brows knitting tightly.

“Manager, perhaps we should postpone the new release for now and announce it was a misunderstanding or a private matter among the courtesans,” the steward suggested nervously.

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“No, this new poem was sent by a high-ranking figure who demanded we present it. We cannot delay. Let them blockade if they will; we proceed as planned tonight,” Manager Li said firmly after consideration.

“But if we offend Young Master Shi, with his influence, scholars might stop coming to listen to our performances,” the steward fretted.

“Do you realize if we anger that high-ranking person, we could even lose our lives? Forget everything else—do as I say,” Li decided resolutely.

Before nightfall, the Princess came to find Fang Xian. “Change your clothes. We’re going out.”

“Where to? Why are you dressed as a man again?” Fang Xian asked in surprise, noting Wu Qingluan’s male attire. These past days, she had been wearing women’s clothing at the clinic.

“Don’t ask so much. You’ll find out soon enough,” Wu Qingluan said, pressing him to change.

Fang Xian changed into a deep blue robe and donned a scholar’s cap, fully resembling a young scholar. He came out and asked, “Is this alright?”

“Perfect. A scholar should look just like this,” she said. They did not leave through the main entrance but slipped out the clinic’s back door and boarded a carriage.

“Drive on…”

Once inside, Fang Xian noticed the carriage, though outwardly ordinary, was surprisingly spacious and elegantly appointed. They sat facing each other without their knees touching.

However, Wu Qingluan did not sit opposite him. Instead, she sat beside him, one hand holding his, the other lifting a corner of the curtain to peer outside.

Wudu City did not enforce a curfew, so even after dark, many townsfolk roamed the streets. Numerous shops remained lit and open, and the lively sounds of taverns and inns filled the air. The city bustled with the vibrant energy of everyday life, making Wudu appear especially prosperous.