The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft light, while a gentle breeze whispered through the air, filling the courtyard with the fragrance of blooming flowers.
A few small dishes paired with a pot of aged Daughter Red wine—this combination, in such an environment, made for a truly blissful indulgence.
Besides the wine, there was also a pot of clear tea, specially prepared for the monk Li Xuan and Master Huo Yuan Zhen.
Master Huo, pinching his nose, nibbled on some peanuts and drank two cups of tea, forcing himself not to glance at the tempting meats on the table.
At this moment, Zhao, the innkeeper, stood up.
Zhao Wujie, as he was properly known, was a failed scholar, but he did possess some genuine talent. His inability to pass the imperial examinations was a lifelong regret.
"Gentlemen," Zhao said with a smile, "We are all men of letters here. Today, at my humble establishment, let us have a little friendly contest. Each of you, write a poem to help stir the spirits of the wine. What say you?"
Li Xuan, the monk, loudly praised the idea but added, "A poem to enhance the drinking spirit is certainly good, but there must be a prize. Otherwise, what's the point of writing?"
Chen Ding, the Iron Fan Sword-wielding hero, asked, "And what do you mean by 'prize', Master Li Xuan?"
"The prize," Li Xuan said, "is something of importance. I propose that if my poem is deemed worthy by all, Zhao Wujie here should promptly solve the matter of my loan request for thirty thousand taels of silver. Does that sound agreeable?"
Zhao Wujie nodded with a smile. "As long as Master Li Xuan's poem passes, and there's an appropriate guarantee, the loan is no problem."
Huo Yuan Zhen, watching from the side, kept a silent, discerning eye on the situation, already realizing that these men had most likely made arrangements for the loan beforehand. They were deliberately putting on a show for him.
Chen Ding laughed heartily. "Then in that case, I too will ask for twenty-five thousand taels. Zhao Wujie, please consider it."
Zhao Wujie nodded and then turned to Huo Yuan Zhen. "And what about you, Master Huo?"
Huo Yuan Zhen bowed his head, offering a Buddhist chant. "If my poem is worthy of your ears, I request that Zhao Wujie resolve my loan for fifty thousand taels of silver."
"Then it all depends on whether Master Huo has that ability," Zhao Wujie said with a light sneer, his gaze cold, for Huo Yuan Zhen was still quite young, and his appearance hardly commanded the same level of respect.
"But what if someone loses?" Zhao Wujie asked, changing the subject.
Chen Ding thought for a moment. "If my poem falls short, I will drink a pound of wine as punishment."
Zhao Wujie chuckled. "That won't do. If Master Li Xuan or Master Huo drink, it will be a significant punishment, considering they are monks and abstain from such indulgences. But you drinking wine will just be a reward."
Hearing this, Qian Delu's face shifted uneasily. After all, Huo Yuan Zhen was his guest. If the monk were punished and broke his vow by drinking wine, it would put him in an awkward position.
Just as he was about to speak, Li Xuan suddenly suggested, "In that case, I am willing to accept the wine and meat punishment if I lose."
At this, Huo Yuan Zhen realized what was going on. These people had deliberately designed this situation to humiliate him. The moment he agreed to such a condition, they would probably force him to drink and eat meat, which was forbidden for a monk.
But Huo Yuan Zhen couldn't help but laugh inwardly. These old fools thought they could trick me? Even if I lose, I'm not afraid of their little punishment. After all, I've been here for so long, my taste buds have almost forgotten what food and drink even feel like. This is the perfect excuse to indulge a little.
Moreover, if word gets out, people will say that I, for the development of my temple, am willing to endure this humiliation. It would only enhance my reputation.
Still, Huo Yuan Zhen knew that in this situation, he absolutely could not lose.
He nodded slowly. "Since Master Li Xuan is so bold, I, too, cannot be left behind. Very well. If I lose, then wine and meat shall pass through my throat, but I trust the Buddha will understand my heart and forgive my folly."
The others, surprised by his boldness, exchanged glances. Most monks would have reacted angrily to such a proposition, but Huo Yuan Zhen's response was uncharacteristically composed.
With the stakes set, Qian Delu refrained from participating in the poetic contest and assumed the role of judge, certain that his status would ensure a fair decision.
As the proposer of the contest, Zhao Wujie stood first.
Holding a wine jug in his hand, he walked under the apricot tree.
Taking a sip of wine, Zhao Wujie began:
"Green willows smoke lightly outside the mist,
Red apricot branches announce the spring,
Life is long with regrets for joy being brief,
But I would trade a thousand gold for a single smile."
"Wonderful! Truly wonderful!" Chen Ding called out in praise.
Li Xuan nodded vigorously, "Zhao Wujie's poetry is flawless. The scent of spring in those apricot blossoms—it's refreshing!"
Qian Delu, too, was quick to voice his approval. Zhao Wujie's poem was indeed of high quality.
Only Huo Yuan Zhen remained silent, a slight smile on his face. How convenient, he thought. This poem is so similar to one from my past life—except, it's a little less refined. This gives me the perfect opportunity to make use of it.
Hearing the compliments, Zhao Wujie beamed with pride, but as he noticed Huo Yuan Zhen's quiet demeanor, a sense of unease crept over him. Coldly, he asked, "Master Huo, you have not spoken. Could it be that my poem is unworthy of your ears?"
Huo Yuan Zhen waved his hand gently. "Not at all. Zhao Wujie's poem is fresh and unique—indeed not mediocre. It just has a small flaw, nothing significant. A little imperfection doesn't overshadow the brilliance. It is still a fine piece."
"Oh?" Zhao Wujie's interest piqued. Returning to his seat, he looked at Huo Yuan Zhen. "Then I must ask Master Huo to enlighten me. What flaw do you find in my poem?"
This poem had been carefully crafted by Zhao Wujie for some time, and he was eager to flaunt it today. He believed it to be perfect. Naturally, he was unwilling to accept any criticism. If Huo Yuan Zhen couldn't point out a flaw or failed to offer an adequate explanation, Zhao Wujie planned to ridicule him.
Chen Ding and Li Xuan, too, looked at Huo Yuan Zhen, eager to see what he would say.
Huo Yuan Zhen, however, remained calm, slowly sipping his tea. He deliberately took his time, savoring each movement. This action made the seasoned men around him grow increasingly impatient, their faces betraying their anticipation. Finally, Huo Yuan Zhen spoke, "Zhao Wujie, the line 'Red apricot branches announce the spring'—might I suggest a slight modification?"
"How would you change it? It's spring now, and the red apricots are in full bloom. How can this line possibly have any flaws?"
Before Zhao Wujie could continue, Li Xuan interjected, eager to undermine Huo Yuan Zhen. "It's simple. I believe the line should read: 'Red apricot branches announce the spring's riot.' Does that improve it?"
"'Riot'?"
The room fell silent as they all pondered the change.
Soon, Zhao Wujie's face shifted, a mix of embarrassment and subtle excitement spreading across his features.
Qian Delu was the first to break the silence. "Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful! Master Huo, your suggestion has elevated the entire poem! 'Spring's riot'—what an astonishing choice! This one word lifts the entire poem. It will surely become a timeless classic."
Chen Ding, unable to hold back, added, "Indeed! That one word adds the perfect touch. Master Huo, I am truly impressed."
Zhao Wujie, too, conceded, "Thank you, Master Huo. I have been taught today."
With that, Zhao Wujie raised his cup of wine, signaling his thanks to Huo Yuan Zhen, and drank it down in one go.
Li Xuan, however, still looked dissatisfied. Yet, he couldn't deny the brilliance of the change. He could only begrudgingly mutter, "It's just one word. That doesn't mean much. True talent lies in the ability to compose a complete poem."
Li Xuan turned to Chen Ding. "Well, it's your turn now."
To everyone's surprise, Chen Ding waved his hand. "There's no need. Zhao Wujie's poem is already excellent, and Master Huo's revision has made it a masterpiece. I concede."
Li Xuan, taken aback, felt his pride wounded. But, there was nothing he could do. Gr