Chapter 142 Preoccupations

The bright moon shone high above the storied pavilion.

At this moment, the banquet was drawing to a close.

The talented scholars gathered in the hall were flushed with wine and high-spirited.

Earlier, as poems and lyrics were completed, they were first presented to Wu Anshi and Wu Anchi for inspection. If deemed acceptable, they were then passed on to Zhang Heng and Huang Guan for critique. Only after both approved them would the works be recited aloud before the entire assembly.

Nearly half of the poems and lyrics had received this treatment.

As the banquet reached this stage, with only a few pieces remaining, the company paid them little heed, preferring instead to savor the compositions recited earlier. Some even sat facing their writing paper, softly chanting to the rhythms of the lyric tunes.

Others kept the beat against their wrists with their index fingers, harmonizing in gentle murmurs.

When Zhang Heng first read out Zhang Yue’s poem earlier, a few had failed to catch it clearly. It was only when the Eldest Young Master Wu invited Zhang Dun to offer a critique that these people retrieved their sheets of paper to ponder the piece anew.

Those hesitant to form their own judgments would pass their papers to those beside them and inevitably ask, "What does Brother so-and-so think of this?"

For a moment, no one dared to pronounce a definitive verdict of good or bad; instead, they simply deferred to their neighbors.

Generally speaking, these talented scholars held their noses in the air. They could easily pick apart the poetry of Meng Haoran, Bai Juyi, or Du Fu. To be able to temporarily silence the crowd and leave them at a loss for words was already a remarkable achievement.

Yet, was this poem truly good? And wherein lay its excellence? Everyone feared making a misjudgment.

Even Zhang Heng, in his commentary comparing the piece to a fragment of the Founding Emperor's poetry, had refrained from uttering the cliché about carving a tiger and ending up with a dog.

Now, it was the turn of Zhang Dun—a man who thought nothing of disparaging even Du Fu and Meng Haoran. What would he have to say?

More than half of those present already knew that Zhang Yue was Zhang Dun's youngest brother.

The moment Wu Anshi opened his mouth, he felt a twinge of regret. Given Zhang Dun's temperament, if he were to tear the poem to shreds, it might deepen the rift between the two brothers, which would ruin the success of his own gathering.

Without a moment's hesitation, Zhang Dun declared, "Read aloud, the phrasing of this poem seems somewhat unpolished, which shows he hasn't been studying poetry for very long. However, poetry can inspire emotions and prompt observation. Judging from this, while the poem's ambition is acceptable, I fear it suffers from grand ambitions coupled with meager talent!"

Everyone burst into laughter upon hearing Zhang Dun's remarks. Zhang Heng smiled and said, "Truly the words of Zihou—still as impartial and balanced as ever."

Though Zhang Heng spoke thus, the rest of the company felt much more at ease when they looked back at Zhang Yue's poem.

Huang Guan smiled and remarked, "I actually feel Zihou's assessment is spot on. 'The myriad common folk of the world raise their heads to gaze' is much like the Founding Emperor's line, 'When the moon reaches the zenith, ten thousand lands are illuminated.' The Southern Tang envoy Xu Xuan harbored separatist ambitions, and the Founding Emperor used that poem to make clear his intent to unify the four seas."

"As for 'the myriad common folk of the world raise their heads to gaze,' it is akin to passing the imperial examinations—like a bright moon hanging high in the firmament, looked up to by all the people! To express one's aspirations through verse... if the maker of this poem fails the imperial examinations, he will merely become a laughingstock, deserving of the label 'grand ambition with meager talent.' But if he passes the examinations one day, this poem will instead be remembered as a fine tale."

Wu Anshi thought to himself that Huang Guan was indeed a bosom friend of Zhang Dun. Not only did his words sound pleasant, but he also considered every angle, terrified that someone might misconstrue the meaning.

With a smile, Wu Anshi said, "What Brother Tunsou says is entirely correct. Come, let us fill our cups and drink to this."

Huang Guan laughed heartily.

Those seated around them nodded in agreement.

Vaguely, a few scholars muttered words of praise such as "fine" or "excellent."

If, when Zhang Yue's poem first appeared, the crowd had tasted it carefully yet remained unable to judge its merits, now, following the lead of a few who offered critiques—acting as the brick tossed to attract jade—the rest of the company began to express opinions of their own.

One person remarked, "It is far too ostentatious. For a youth, such an attitude bodes no good; hereafter, his cutting edge will be all too visible."

Another laughed and countered, "You worry too much. This is a poem to make one's name known, much like Chen Zi'ang shattering his thousand-gold zither. Without a bold tone, one cannot stir people's hearts."

"True enough, he stops at nothing to startle with his words, but it is also terribly arrogant. 'The myriad common folk of the world raise their heads to gaze'—it would be one thing if ordinary peasants were to look up, but does he expect even the likes of us to do so?"

"Ha, indeed! When all is said and done, who is this person?"

"I heard he is a kinsman of Zhang Ziping and the youngest brother of Zhang Zihou."

"No wonder, no wonder. So he is a scion of a distinguished family."

"I hear he has just entered the Imperial College and transitioned from the Nine Classics curriculum to the Presented Scholar examinations, which is why he hasn't been studying poetry for long."

"So that is it. The Zhang family of Pucheng already boasts a palace graduate and a provincial graduate; given this fellow's talent, it seems the next examination cycle will yield yet another top laureate."

"Why don't we go and make his acquaintance?"

When several people finally arrived at Zhang Yue's seat, however, they found it empty.

One of them asked a maidservant, "Where has this Third Young Master Zhang gone?"

The maidservant answered with an embarrassed flush, "That young master has gone to the latrine."

"The latrine?" Everyone was dumbfounded. That meant he hadn't heard a single word of the discussion that had just taken place.

"When did he go?"

The maidservant thought for a moment, pointed toward Zhang Dun on the platform, and said, "Right before this gentleman began critiquing the poem, he went to the latrine."

Hearing this, the group could not help freezing, their faces breaking into expressions that hovered between smiles and laughter.

After the banquet dispersed, the scholars returned to their respective homes.

Wu Anshi and Wu Anchi took a stack of writing paper and went to the chambers of Wu Chong and Lady Li.

True to form, Wu Chong had not yet retired for the night. He picked up the sheets of paper and said to his two sons, "Tell me roughly what transpired at tonight's banquet."

In truth, aside from Liu Ji and Zhang Yue, there were five or six other unmarried young scholars at today's banquet.

While it couldn't be said to have swept up every unmarried talent in Bianjing, it encompassed the absolute limit of the network the two Wu brothers could command.

The two brothers gave a general summary of the banquet's events.

Seeing Wu Chong pause, he picked out a single sheet of paper and asked, "Who is this Ma Wenqi?"

After Wu Anshi provided an explanation, Wu Chong laid the paper aside.

Wu Chong continued, "Zhang Ziping, Zhang Zihou, and Huang Tunsou possess the highest talent. Even their social verse and harmonizing compositions far surpass those of the others."

"As for this Liu Ji, he falls a step behind. And this piece here bears no signature: *When the third and fifth days meet, the circle is complete; a full handful of clear radiance guards the jade balustrade. The single wheel in heaven has just been lifted high, while the myriad common folk of the world raise their heads to gaze.*"

Wu Chong smiled faintly.

"Father, this was written by Third Young Master Zhang. What do you think of it?"

Wu Chong turned the question back on them: "What do your own eyes tell you?"

Wu Anshi replied, "It shows him to be a person of soaring ambition. The other poems composed at the gathering were social harmonies—either praising the era of peace, describing bonds of fellowship, or expressing sentiments on weather and parting. His poem alone stands apart."

Wu Anchi agreed, "Older brother is entirely right; I thought so as well. Yet such ambition, while striking, might actually be a virtue, provided we see whether he understands gratitude and knows how to repay the kindness of those who lift him up. When I read the line 'A full handful of clear radiance guards the jade balustrade,' I felt as though this fellow was revealing a glimpse of his innermost designs."

"Take Liu Ji, whom older brother praised—he ordinarily holds himself in high esteem. Should he rise to prominence in the future, he will likely attribute it entirely to his own abilities."

Wu Chong asked, "Did the others say nothing?"

Wu Anshi answered, "During the banquet, Zhang Zihou critiqued the poem, saying its literary texture was somewhat unpolished, yet its ambitions could be seen. Both my second brother and I fully agreed with him."

Wu Chong chuckled in amusement. "Were these two brothers at odds in daily life?"

Wu Anshi and Wu Anchi exchanged a glance and spoke in unison, "Father truly has discerning eyes! How did you know?"

"'The myriad common folk of the world raise their heads to gaze'—such a line might pass muster in an ordinary public examination, but with his own elder brother present at the table, it clearly stems from a desire to outshine him! At first, I thought his poem was aimed at Zhang Ziping, but it turns out to be directed at Zhang Zihou."

Hearing this, Wu Anshi and Wu Anchi both wore expressions of admiration.

Wu Anshi added, "Zihou must have seen through his intentions, yet remarkably, he didn't blow up; instead, he covered for him. How do you suppose Zhang Zihou views this?"

"That is likely something only Zhang Zihou himself knows. However, since he is a provincial graduate, should he pass the imperial examinations in the future, he will have the backing of his grandfather, his father—both palace graduates—and his father-in-law, Censor Zhang, to smooth his official career. For him, the path upward will not be difficult. But his younger brother comes from humble origins with no influential patrons to aid him. Even if he passes the examinations, every step forward will likely be fraught with difficulty—unless, of course, he achieves high honors, which is another matter entirely."

After the two brothers finished discussing the matter, Wu Chong offered no definitive judgment.