Chapter 23: A Single Word Is Worth a Thousand Gold Pieces, How About It?

Chapter 23: A Single Character Worth a Thousand Gold? How?

"Beacon fires temper the liver and gall, armor plates forge the Kunlun. Ten years the banner waves southward, bold spirit cleaves the clouds. Once trod the damp waves of Po, bound the demons of Cangshan, settled the borders with ease. The barbaric drums echo in the depths, the Wei banner flies at the edge of the world."

"The feast begins, the golden goblets brim, the gate is opened to spring. Why sorrow for hoary hair? The stars are the emblems of merit! A thousand peaks of pines sing, ten thousand valleys of rivers make wine, the mountains and seas all brim with joy. May I borrow the hand of Heaven to rewrite, to seal the far-off honors!"

Xiao No Gun recited the verse aloud, his chest heaving with an inexplicable, fiery passion, his face flushing slightly.

Xiao No Gun quickly took a breath, his heart fluttering with unease, fearing he had performed poorly and would be scolded by Xiao Yuan and the others.

Yet in that moment, the courtyard was silent as the grave, no one paying him any heed.

Beside him, the old uncle named Min Fu, styled Zhang Changming, once served as the deputy governor of Shouzhou’s administrative office.

His merits as an official need not be mentioned, but he possessed learning.

Thus, after hearing the verse, a surge of heroism overwhelmed him, and he exclaimed, "Good verse, good verse! A tribute to the past, bold spirit alive!"

"Every word and phrase is just right, old Xiao, your banquet this time will surely make many old friends envious."

Duke Qian Guan Zhang Xuan’s lips twitched, his wife’s—this was not meant for me?

"The verse is good, but it suits old me better."

The nearby Xiao Qiuyong, hearing it, eyes bright with delight, was deeply moved.

Yet none touched his heart as much as the old lord, Xiao Yuan.

He sat upright, ignoring the two old friends’ words, muttering the verse’s lines, his mind drifting to battles of decades past.

There were memories of his own—driving back the barbarian hordes at Meng Shuuguan, leading the troops of Ding Yuan south to conquer Po Shiwu Guo, planting the great Wei banner in every fortress there.

Also, the regrets of Xiao family kin fallen in battle.

These memories, like those from yesterday, were vivid as if they had just occurred.

His eyes grew red with emotion, his voice a weary sigh: "Poor Chen Yi, to pen such a verse for me, ah."

Zhang Xuan grimaced, "You’d better be happy, not expecting it from me."

Even if the verse spoke truths, applying it to old Xiao—well, it was a pity.

Xiao Yuan scoffed, "Get lost."

Min Fu sighed, "Old Xiao, your nephew-in-law this time has truly given you a grand gift."

"What gift?"

"This verse alone will endure for a thousand years, will it not?"

From Min Fu’s perspective, its power was clear—Xiao Yuan, the old fool with no wit, would now live on through it.

"Endure for a thousand years? Then I..."

"Exactly. You’ve set your name in history through this verse."

Xiao Yuan blinked, pretending not to be pleased, for who among the living doesn’t wish to leave a name?

Yet he felt a strange unease, as if his entire life as a warrior paled beside a single poem’s legacy.

At that moment, Zhang Xuan snapped back to attention, eyeing Xiao Yuan carefully, then smiled graciously:

"Old Xiao, soon it will be my birthday as well. How about we agree to gift this verse to me?"

He patted his chest solemnly, "Rest assured, I’ll pay for the editing."

Before Xiao Yuan could refuse, Min Fu stood abruptly, his beard bristling with anger: "You old rake! So shameless, even thinking such thoughts!"

Zhang Xuan glared: "Old Min, I am Duke Qian Guan of the capital."

"I’m still the thirty-second year of Yongping, a graduate of the highest class. What you say, this verse isn’t yours to claim. You’ve killed some barbarians, hmm—well, you’ve killed some. Have you ever been to Po Shiwu?"

"Tomorrow I’ll lead the armies of Jiaozhou and Guangyue to press the frontier, surely planting the banner everywhere!"

"What of the Duke of Ding Yuan then?"

"I’ve decided to hold a grand banquet here. Is that acceptable?"

"You—you’re shameless! How could a once-in-a-century masterpiece be so treated, so dismissed?"

"A once-in-a-century?"

Zhang Xuan paused, then slapped his thigh, turning to Xiao Yuan: "Old Xiao, a single character worth a thousand gold—how?"

"Get lost!" Xiao Yuan laughed, "You’re shameless, I still want it."

"If people knew I’d sold the verse written by your nephew-in-law, I’d be stinking in infamy forever."

Zhang Xuan slapped his lips, still not giving up, signaling Xiao Qiuyong to speak.

He truly adored the verse, it suited his prowess and achievements. After all, when the barbarian king led his army north to block the pass, he’d also brought Jiaozhou’s soldiers to aid.

Xiao Yuan, as commander of the three armies, shared the credit for repelling the barbarian hordes with Zhang Xuan.

Xiao Qiuyong, seeing this, smiled: "Father, this verse is certainly good, but clearly based on the elder’s life, not quite fitting for you."

"As Qiuyong says, one must tie the bell before removing it. The one who wrote this verse is right here in the mansion."

Zhang Xuan thought a moment, then smiled:

"Indeed, that’s the way. Old Xiao, let’s not quarrel over this. I’ll ask you to lend me someone to edit it."

"Your nephew-in-law, is it? Nephew-in-law?"

Zhang Xuan paused, his smile fading, "Is it the younger sister’s husband, the bastard son of Chen Xuanji?"

Xiao Yuan slightly nodded, waved dismissively, "Yes, it’s Chen Yi’s work. Do you wish to have him revise it?"

"Don’t forget, you old fool, just days ago you condemned the Chen family, scolding Chen Xuan and Chen Xuanji for leaning on the Emperor. You made Jiaofu a chaos."

Zhang Xuan huffed, "At one time, at another. Chen Yi is now your son-in-law, with no ties to the Chen family. Let him pen a verse..."

Never mind.

He truly disliked the Chen family of Jiaofu. Thinking of the verse coming from their hands, he felt a certain resentment.

Thinking this over, he shifted his tone: "Old Min, recommend me a scholar skilled in poetry to revise it. I’ll give you twenty percent of the fee."

Min Fu laughed, "You old rake, shameless. But I think of it—Chen Yi’s wasted potential."

Xiao Yuan sat up straighter, "Hmm? What do you mean?"

Min Fu looked at him, hesitated, then said earnestly, "Old Xiao, I’ll be blunt—you’re not going to like this."

"From this verse alone, Chen Yi’s learning isn’t ordinary. I imagine the rumors of his being 'virtuous and filial, learned beyond compare' are true."

"But now he’s your son-in-law, unable to serve as an official, his talents unutilized."

Min Fu, his weathered face serious, asked: "Is he wasted?"

Xiao Yuan paused, pondering, "Indeed, he is."

Hearing this, Zhang Xuan looked at him puzzled: "Old Xiao, when you married his daughter, how did you think of the Chen family?"

"This..." Xiao Yuan shook his head, "It’s in the past. I don’t wish to revisit it."

Many threads were tangled, hard to explain in a moment.

However, Zhang Xuan pressed on, his voice a steady inquiry: "The old man, I’ve heard Chen Yi’s days at home haven’t been easy. That doctor from Cui’s family has been pushing him down, but did she orchestrate this?"

"Something like that."

"Does Chen Xuanji know of it?"

"He probably doesn’t. We both know Chen Xuanji was sent by imperial decree to the western land of the Buddha realm, and he hasn’t returned since."

"What of Chen Yu? He went to the northern province—does he know about this?"

Xiao Yan hesitated a moment, then replied, "Perhaps he does, perhaps he doesn’t."

Zhang Xuan noticed his companion’s strange expression, unwilling to elaborate further. He guessed there was more beneath the surface, so he let the matter drop, though he couldn’t resist a final warning:

"Old Xiao, those Chen brothers aren’t to be trusted. You mind your own back."

Xiao Yan nodded silently, understanding. He already knew all this—no need to say more.

After a while, Xiao Yan’s excitement had faded, but his face had grown even redder. He ordered, "Bring food. I’ll eat five bowls today!"

Soon, the servants entered with the meal. Xiao Yan gestured, "You two have seen how much I eat. Today, let’s see who still has the vigor of our youth."

"Can you still eat a whole ox in one sitting?"

"How could I not…?"

Before long, the three old men began devouring the meat and drinking the wine with gusto, laughing as though they’d returned to their younger days.

Xiao Hun, witnessing this scene, bowed and said, "Grandfather, eat up. I’ll handle the rest."

Xiao Yan swallowed a large chunk of pork and nodded. "Hmm. Tell your brother I’ve forgiven his desertion."

Hun’s face brightened, and after a respectful bow, he hurried off to relay the news to Chen Yi.

At that moment, Xiao Qinyu, who had been sitting quietly with a smile, spoke up: "Hun, don’t leave yet. Take Heng with you to the Spring Lotus Garden."

"Mother, I don’t want to see that deserter. He—"

"Hmm?"

Before Zhang Heng could finish, Xiao Qinyu fixed him with a stern gaze and cut him off.

"Once you go there, you must show proper respect. Do you understand?"

Zhang Heng grunted unhappily in agreement.

Xiao Hun wanted to protest but glanced at Xiao Yan and the others, lost in their merriment, and reluctantly led Zhang Heng away.

After they’d left, Xiao Yan took a sip of wine and ate his fill, then said, almost as an afterthought, "Don’t blame Brother Zhang for his chatter. Heng should be studying now."

Xiao Qinyu’s face paled slightly, but she dared not argue.

Zhang Xuan shot her a glance, then went back to his own eating, saying nothing.

Though old sayings go, "A father’s sins are not the child’s to bear," there’s also the adage, "A loving mother often has a wayward son."

Meanwhile, Sun Fu paid them no mind, eating and muttering to himself, "What fine lines! If I wrote such verses, I’d blind myself with joy."

"Since you like that so much, why not have me teach Chen Yi?"

"I could, though if you make me your son-in-law’s teacher, you’ll have to change your tongue."

"My words are your father’s, then."

"The old man’s gotten himself worked up, hasn’t he? It’s a shame for his manners."

(Chapter End)