Chapter 108: When Will the Bright Moon Appear?

There is no first in literature, no second in martial arts.

This saying only scratches the surface. In truth, the competition and covert struggles among scholars are no less intense than those among warriors.

Consort Chen sought to build her influence, and Su Shenchang deliberately fanned the flames. Such a grand event was rare in Jiangling City in recent years, and any scholar with some ability felt compelled to compete for victory.

Perhaps not all were eager to curry favor with Consort Chen, yet few scholars could resist the temptation to make a name for themselves at such a gathering.

Generally, poetry is a matter of personal taste; when the skill level is high, it is difficult to definitively say which poem is superior.

But when the gap in talent is too great, the quality is clear at a glance.

At poetry gatherings throughout Jiangling City, those who presented their works early on were mostly scholars aware of their limited skill, unwilling to challenge true masters and risk losing face.

True talents with renowned skills often reserved their finest compositions for the liveliest moments of the event, usually just before midnight.

Even so, in various brothels and pleasure boats, young women sang freshly composed poems, and recognized works were copied and circulated through special channels to help diligent scholars gain fame.

Overall, the literary atmosphere in Jiangling Prefecture remained quite tolerant and gentle—though this leniency applied only to scholars other than Zhao Hengyi.

In the Lotus Garden, many scholars, already informed of the plan, did not wait for midnight but began presenting their carefully prepared masterpieces. The scene became lively and chaotic, like a profusion of flowers or a chorus of competing birdsong. The poetry gathering, which should have unfolded gradually, resembled peacocks fanning their tails in eager courtship.

Xi Ningxi, an eunuch seated at the main seat by the insistence of Su Shenchang and Prince Qi, displayed patience beyond all expectations. He meticulously examined every poem placed before him. Having been educated within the palace from a young age, he skillfully evaluated each piece.

Xi Ningxi did not speak idly; whenever he offered commentary, he struck at the heart of the poems, articulating the merits and flaws with substance and grace.

Su Shenchang and Prince Qi exchanged glances in private, both surprised by the young eunuch’s profound literary ability—they had truly underestimated him.

“Why hasn’t Zhao Hengyi arrived?” Xi Ningxi whispered as the group relaxed with wine after a round of critiques. “Could he have forgotten the invitation?”

“The invitation was delivered to Zhao Caidong several days ago,” Su Shenchang replied with a hint of urgency on his face. “He must have been delayed on the road...”

“Lord Su, spare us the excuses for Zhao Hengyi,” Prince Qi said casually, relying on his royal status. “Talented men are often proud; Zhao Hengyi surely intends to arrive at the stroke of midnight.”

The rules of poetry gatherings were mostly similar. Xi Ningxi caught the implication in Prince Qi’s words, smiled, and dropped the subject, raising his cup to toast instead.

The full moon hung high as exquisite poems continued to pour into the Lotus Garden from all directions.

This place seemed to serve as the main venue for all the poetry gatherings in Jiangling that night. Receiving praise here was tantamount to earning recognition from the entire scholarly community of Jiangling Prefecture, and the poets themselves would gain renown.

True masterpieces were not casually shared. In the current atmosphere of the Great Yan Kingdom, composing a respected poem yielded many benefits within the literary circles. Though it might not lead to instant success, it greatly aided one’s future prospects and official career.

Thus, many scions of prominent families only presented passable poems—far from outstanding. The real dazzling competition of literary talent came from the genuine masters.

As the crowd began to suffer from aesthetic fatigue and silently awaited the midnight showdown of top-tier poets, Zhao Hengyi’s carriage finally arrived at the Lotus Garden.

“Apologies, apologies. On the road, the Ningwu Army was pursuing a notorious bandit and blocked the path, causing the delay. I hope the Prefect and His Highness Prince Qi will not hold it against me!” Zhao Hengyi’s attire clearly showed careful preparation. Though not ostentatious, it was not disrespectful either.

“While waiting, I heard fresh poems emerging from the pleasure boats nearby. Tonight’s event truly gathers literary brilliance; the Prefect’s efforts are undeniably commendable!”

His words were a bit scattered, lacking the smoothness of a seasoned businessman, and instead sounded like those of an inexperienced scholar.

Su Shenchang smiled outwardly but looked deeply disdainful. Though officially on the same side as Zhao Hengyi, the duo’s reputation as Jiangling’s most sycophantic pair was well known across the land. Naturally, they would not make trouble over such a minor matter and instead offered mild excuses.

“Recently, the assassin who tried to kill Lord Su was spotted, and the Ningwu Army has been investigating, losing many skilled men in the process. Unfortunately, innocent civilians were disturbed. That was my oversight,” Prince Qi Zhao Hong said calmly, betraying no emotion. However, it was unlikely he viewed Zhao Hengyi—who had failed to produce the elite talent he promised—with favor.

“Heh, Prince Qi is too harsh on himself,” Xi Ningxi said with a beaming smile upon seeing Zhao Hengyi. “Capturing outlaws is proper duty and involves no disturbance to the people. Neglecting it would harm the common folk!

“Master Zhao, take a seat and rest. Everyone is eagerly waiting to witness your poetic talent!”

With Xi Ningxi’s endorsement as Consort Chen’s representative, no one pressed Zhao Hengyi about his tardiness. Still, a few veiled barbs were inevitable.

“Zhao Caidong, your last recital at Wangyuelou was truly dazzling. Surely tonight you have another masterpiece to crush the literary circles of Jiangling. We’ve all been waiting eagerly; don’t keep us in suspense!” Chang Tingluo, a gentleman from the Chang family, shouted boldly beside Zhao Hengyi, seeming unconcerned by Xi Ningxi’s slight frown as he sat with Su Shenchang and Prince Qi.

His elder uncle, Chang Wenge, was Minister of Works with his own faction at court, standing independently without needing to rely on Consort Chen. Thus, in Xi Ningxi’s presence, Chang Tingluo exuded a certain effortless confidence.

“Chang Gongzi is an old friend. Zhao will not hold back!” Zhao Hengyi replied without even catching his breath, much to everyone’s surprise.

The long table, brushes, ink, paper, and inkstone were all ready. Amid the cheers of onlookers, Zhao Hengyi drained a cup of wine and began to write swiftly.

“Water Melody · When Will the Bright Moon Appear...”

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

“I do not know in the celestial palace above, what year this night may be.”

“I long to ride the wind and return, yet fear the jade towers and crystal halls, so high the cold is hard to bear.”

“Dancing with the clear shadow... how unlike the mortal world.”