Dafeng's Night Squad

Half A Stanza To Surprise The Established Confucian Scholar

The military strategist who was bad at poetry introduced his student. “Xu Cijiu, my student who excels in the art of war. He is a promising scholar.”

Zhang Zhen kept his surprise to himself.

‘You’re not a poet, why have you volunteered yourself?’

Zhu Tuizi had thought the purple jade belonged to him when a student called out. Warily, he sized up the competition. However, when he saw that it was Xu Xinnian, his confidence rose again.

Zhu Tuizi only spared Xu Xinnian a glance.

They were classmates for years. Although they rarely interacted, they were aware of each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Xu Xinnian was skilled in composing essays that discussed contemporary affairs, he also had a good grasp of military strategies. Poetry was not his strong suit.

The jade accessory was Zhu Tuizi’s.

All eyes fell on Xu Xinnian as he basked in the attention. His eyes were far away, staring into the soft glow of the sun.

“Thousand miles of yellow clouds darken the day.”

The national chess player, Li Baimu, stroked his white beard. The simple sentence was meant to set the scene but the words resonated in his chest.

“The north wind stirs the geese and snow.”

It was almost winter. While snowfall had not begun, it was only a matter of time before the weather changed. There was no hyperbole in that sentence.

The imagery appeared in everyone’s mind. The setting sun was blocked by a flurry of snow as the north wind roared—the sky was dotted with flying geese.

The two sentences painted an image befitting a farewell.

Zhang Zhen was surprised. In his many years of observing Xu Xinnian, the student showed little aptitude for poetry. These two seven-character sentences must have taken a lot of effort. If the whole poem was of this quality, Xu Xinnian might outperform Zhu Tuizi.

Among the three established Confucian scholars, Ziyang’s Layman was the most skilled in the art of poetry. He ruminated on the words and felt sorrow in his heart.

A thousand miles, the sunset, the north wind, the flying geese, the flurry of snow… The setting was one of loneliness and desolation.

The poem sounded as if he was being banished, not promoted—and yet there was a certain charm in its sorrow.

His past achievements were acknowledged by the courts, therefore he was assigned to Qingzhou. However, would the powers of the Imperial College allow him to grow and prosper in the courts?

Would they stand by and watch as he built a foundation in the courts for the White Deer Academy?

An unknown fate awaited him in Qingzhou—the path ahead was uncertain.

Then, Xu Xinnian spread his arms apart. His handsome face glowed under the warm rays of the sun, unmarred and delicate.

With his arms wide open, he looked at Ziyang’s Layman and recited loudly.

“Fear not a journey of loneliness, for you are not a stranger to the realm.”

A hush fell over the pavilion and its surroundings.

A chill swept through the audience.

Zhu Tuizi’s head turned stiffly to look at the erect Xu Xinnian.

“Fear not a journey of loneliness, for you are not a stranger to the realm.”Li Mubai applauded loudly. “Exceptional!”

The first two sentences evoked sadness, then the last two sentences changed the mood and lifted everyone’s hearts and spirits.

Zhang Zhen kept his eyes on Xu Xinnian.

Ziyang’s Layman was still caught up in the beauty of the poem, his heart was moved.

“A good one, really impressive,” he mumbled.

The military strategist saw that his student did not continue his recital and asked, “What about the next half?”

A smirk tugged at Xu Xinnian’s lips as he replied, “The poem exists in only half a stanza.”

Only half a stanza?

The scholars were wide-eyed at the statement. This man performed a half-written poem?

“No matter, no matter. Half a stanza was sufficiently impressive,” Ziyang’s Layman said calmly. He wore a cheery smile as he asked, “Xu Cijiu, does this poem have a name?”

“No!”

Xu Xinnian maintained his proud demeanor in hopes to avoid their questions. His reluctance to elaborate would discourage further questions.

The smile on Ziyang’s Layman’s face widened. “No rush. This poem was meant for my farewell, right?”

Xu Xinnian nodded.

“Why don’t I name it for you?”

Li Mubai and Zhang Zhen realized what he was doing and frowned as if they both tasted a lemon slice.

“How about ‘Yang Gong’s Farewell To Qingzhou At The Sheep’s Pavilion’?” The elder looked expectantly at Xu Xinnian.

“Satisfactory!” Xu Xinnian called out. Noticing his lack of respect, he added. “As you please.”

The two elders beside Ziyang’s Layman made sounds of disapproval.

“Shameless thief.”

“Tsk!”

“It is fate.” Ziyang’s Layman laughed heartily as he bowed at them with his hands folded.

In an era where poetry was a dying art, this poem would be revolutionary. It would be sung by every student and scholar of the realm.

The name of Ziyang’s Layman was bound to the poem’s title, and thus would be known throughout the lands.

If the poem survived the ages, his name would also be passed down generations and generations.

The quality of the poem made it highly likely to be well-received by all.

...

The two elders had called him shameless because Xu Xinnian was presenting this poem as a gift to a mentor. Technically, a courtesy name or art name should be used instead of a given name in the poem title. A given name should only be used in poems about one’s peers and close friends.

Evidently, the man was too caught up with fame to feel the shame.

What was every scholar’s dream? To cultivate oneself and bring peace to the empire? No, that was an ideal.

Throughout the ages, every scholar’s biggest dream was to have their name carved into history.

The two elders were incredibly jealous.

As Xu Xinnian’s mentor, Zhang Zhen had some doubts about the author of the poem but he stayed silent. He was happy for his student to receive praise from Ziyang’s Layman.

As the three elders discussed, Xu Xinnian coughed to get their attention. “Respectfully, I must declare that the poem is not my work.”

The discussion stopped.

The three esteemed scholars wore different expressions—surprise, shock and understanding.

Li Mubai was surprised.

Ziyang’s Layman had the largest reaction. He took two steps forward and asked, “Who is the author? Is he from our academy? Is he here?”

...

He looked past Xu Xinnian as he scanned the crowd.

Xu Xinnian lifted his chin and said proudly, “It is my elder brother.”

A chatter began among the student body.

“Xu Cijiu’s brother?”

“Where does he study? I’ve never heard of him.”

“If I remembered correctly, Xu Cijiu is the eldest of his family.”

“Cijiu, what is your brother’s name? Who is his mentor? Tell us. A poet of this caliber yet unknown to the academy?”

The students were eager to hear about this mysterious poet.

The three elders watched Xu Xinnian.

‘Ah crap, I’ve been badly influenced by my father’s impulsiveness. I shouldn’t have revealed the existence of my impulsive brother.’ The eagerness in the students’ eyes made Xu Xinnian rethink his decision.

To be a scholar was to be the top of society, as shown by the haughty Xu Xinnian.

Those from the White Deer Academy were no exceptions.

If Xu Qian was a scholar, these people would sing praises and laudation. Revealing the poet was a constable would give rise to a negative reaction.

If a lowly constable could write such an exemplary seven-character poem, what of the scholars?

Xu Xinnian pushed through with his explanation. “My brother… He studies the scriptures at home and doesn’t attend the White Deer Academy or the Imperial College. He is a simple man who doesn’t want fame and prefers to be left alone to his works.”

Such dedication was praiseworthy. The White Deer Academy students were pleasantly surprised as a gush of friendship filled their hearts.

Unsurprisingly, the purple jade was presented to Xu Xinnian. Ziyang’s Layman bid the crowd farewell. In a burst of inspiration, he left them with a line before he entered the decorated carriage.

“Talents cannot be covered in dust, speak carefully in such times of peace. What do you say?”

The two other elders gave no response. Perhaps they understood but pretended not to. The crowd watched as the carriage ferried Ziyang’s Layman away. After some time, Li Mubai tapped Xu Xinnian on the arm. The two men stepped aside to have a private conversation. “Cijiu, I suddenly have the urge to take in a disciple. If you are free today, can you introduce me to your brother?”

Zhang Zhen appeared and quickly said, “Cijiu, wouldn’t it be great if you and your brother were under my tutelage?”

It did not matter if the man wrote any more poems. The main goal was not to let the talent be buried.

Perhaps the future had a famous poem titled, ‘My Mentor, Zhang Zhen’.

Li Mubai argued, “Military strategy is not the main branch of study. Every scholar has to start with the scriptures, essay composition and self-cultivation.”

“Oh? And chess is a main branch? A mentor who can’t take a loss and has never won against Wei Yuan?” Zhang Zhen taunted.

“Shut your mouth, you old thief. Don’t mention Wei Yuan in my presence. I have always cherished my talents, this student is mine.”

“You old fool, you just want him for his poetry skills.”

“Shameless! Watch me strike you down with my noble spirit.”

“As if I can’t do the same.”

Xu Xinnian’s head was heavy.

The students who stood a distance away were in shock. The two established Confucian scholars were red-faced as they argued—it looked as if a fight was about to break out.

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