Music rose as sheets of paper passed from hand to hand among everyone, a singing girl's ethereal voice singing tonight's excellent poems. The atmosphere here was relatively more serious than the Puyuan Poetry Gathering because there were more heavyweight figures, though various performances still managed to make the atmosphere lively yet classically elegant.

Turtle and Crane Garden was an exquisitely laid out garden with lingering ancient charm, with various mountain rocks, waterways, corridors, courtyards and pavilions—at this time lanterns painted with riddles were arranged throughout. Everyone set up banquets in the garden—women on one side, students on another, the hosts and a group of renowned and erudite elders on yet another side. No special stage was built, but song and dance performances occasionally appearing throughout the garden were indeed very natural, leaving deep impressions. Those able to come to this poetry gathering were mostly top courtesans with considerable fame, and obviously they'd also put much thought into this.

The poetry gathering naturally had segments like lantern riddles, performances, moon appreciation and such. There were even speeches from many erudite masters, for example the host Pan Guangyan. Even at the beginning, the Jiangning Prefectural Magistrate had come by, saying things like "You all are the nation's pillar talents." This sufficiently explained Zhishui Poetry Gathering's status, though of course, with a whole night of revelry, to prevent situations arising in the city, the prefectural magistrate by custom had to remain at the yamen all night. He couldn't stay long and hurriedly left.

If talented scholars at the poetry gathering had fine works, they'd mostly stand directly and evaluate with everyone. Every so often, someone would bring several poems of sufficient quality. The papers circulated for viewing among everyone's hands, and if that poem was truly good, or there were other views, someone would also stand to recite it and discuss with everyone. Pan Guangyan and others would naturally also give critiques.

Old Qin sat at one side of the banquet, beside him the still quite richly dressed Kang Xian—that is, Old Kang who bickered with Ning Yi. His courtesy name was Mingyun, so many also called him Lord Ming, and his background was complex. Wealth he didn't lack, but even considering only his literary and Confucian cultivation, it was enough for everyone to call him Lord Ming, and among the dozens of talented scholars present, two or three had received his teachings and called him teacher. But Old Kang was always strict, and everyone was somewhat afraid of him, though he hadn't criticized anyone tonight. Actually, tonight's Zhishui Poetry Gathering quality satisfied him.

At this time he was low-key chatting and laughing with Old Qin at the side, though actually by this time, generally speaking, the truly good poems had all emerged. The two were now discussing these.

"...The autumn equinox stops in one night, the yin spirit most crystalline. Good it rises from the blue sea, slowly watching it traverse the dim darkness. The layered void seems to wash color, myriad monsters imagine hidden forms. Other evenings have no comparison, the morning rooster cannot be heard... Old Qin, this 'Mid-Autumn Facing the Moon' by Li Pin from Lichuan Poetry Gathering truly shows overflowing talent. Though they say literature has no first place, as I see it, tonight I fear this poem will steal the show."

"Both yin souls and ghosts—it counts as taking an unconventional path, yet gives people a feeling of grandeur, only making thoughts surge without the slightest eerie color. This poem has lingering Tang style—Li Pin, Li Dexin, has indeed entered the ranks of masters. However, Lord Ming, you're always strict with yourself—Zhishui today actually also has several good poems. Look, for example this one just now."

Old Qin smiled and picked up one: "The jade sky like water, clear and shallow silver river, golden waves clear and pure. I suspect Chang'e holds her precious mirror, hanging high in Guanghan Palace. Forest leaves sing autumn, curtains and windows like paintings, osmanthus fragrant wind rises. Year after year this evening, this interest at Yu Tower is absolutely clear... You mustn't be biased, right?"

"Haha, you and I aren't judges, just appreciating as we please. How could there be bias? Mm, this poem is indeed good..."

"As I see it, tonight's two best pieces are among these."

Old Qin was always low-key—tonight he'd hardly made any public critiques, only saying these things in casual chat with friends. In fact, Cao Guan (Cao Zongchen) of Zhishui Poetry Gathering and Li Pin (Li Dexin) of Lichuan Poetry Gathering were indeed among Jiangning's most renowned talented scholars at this time, and the people below were also mostly comparing these two's poems. Though they say literature has no first place, verbal momentum must always be contested.

As everyone evaluated poems, Pan Guangyan was also smiling and speaking to Cao Guan, and before long, someone brought in new poems, divided into three copies for everyone to circulate.

Truly good poems that could enter the hall—by this time basically wouldn't emerge anymore, though good ones still remained. Everyone smiled and discussed while each passed along a page, and one page reached Old Qin and Old Kang's side. Old Qin picked it up to look and actually laughed.

"Eh? How is it?" Kang Xian asked.

"Hehe, just didn't expect Puyuan could still produce a decent one at this time. Take a look."

"Oh? Puyuan." Old Kang also laughed, taking the poem to read once, then looking at the name below—"Xue Jin"—before shaking his head and putting it down. "Mediocre, barely worth viewing, nothing particularly novel."

At this time, someone below called out: "Gentlemen, I didn't expect Lichuan could still have a good poem at this time. In my view, this one is indeed quite good."

Someone who knew him laughed: "Then recite it," and that person nodded. A moment later, he began reciting the poem: "This uses the tune pattern Water Melody Prelude. Everyone please listen: The autumn sky clean as water, the moon mirror unstable on its platform. At Yugu's heights music plays, speech and laughter shed worldly dust..."

When he recited to here, he suddenly seemed to sense something and turned to look at the platform where Pan Guangyan and the erudite masters sat, where an old man had already stood up at this time, holding a sheet of paper in his hand, hurriedly walking toward Pan Guangyan. His fingers flicked that paper, his mouth seeming to still be muttering—this old man had some friendship with Old Qin and Old Kang. Originally seeing him stand, Pan Guangyan had also come over, and he put down the paper and said to the several people around in a not-very-loud voice: "Everyone please look at this one."

This was also Water Melody Prelude, and seeing the several people on the platform notice other matters, the person reciting below froze. Pan Guangyan reacted and smiled, raising his hand toward him to indicate he should continue, immediately not looking at that paper. After this person finished reciting, he savored it a moment, smiled and critiqued a few sentences before picking up the paper to look—a moment later, he also muttered lowly, frowning. Everyone below and even the female guests' side were looking over.

"Crane Elder, if there's some good poem, quickly recite it. Keeping people in suspense like this is quite improper."

Pan Guangyan's temperament was after all very good, and Cao Guan as leader of everyone smiled and spoke. Then others also laughed, the atmosphere relaxing for a moment as Pan Guangyan also smiled: "Also Water Melody Prelude¹. This poem... I'll recite it for everyone to hear: When did the bright moon first appear? One raises a cup and asks the blue sky. One does not know, in the celestial palaces, what year it is this evening... I wish to ride the wind and return there, yet fear the jade towers; in a high dwelling one cannot bear the cold. Starting to dance with one's clear shadow—what else resembles the mortal world?"

The lyrics of Water Melody Prelude rang out in the courtyard, and before the first half was finished reciting, among those seated there was already no sound of conversation. Pan Guangyan was originally a great literary scholar, and at this time he earnestly recited the poem in his hands according to the rhythm. Though he didn't recite quickly, matching the lyrics' artistic conception, it flowed seamlessly.

Those seated all had deep literary foundations, and just hearing to here, they'd already perceived this poem's ethereal, grand, and far-reaching artistic conception. The initial question seemed simple, though with the literary world flourishing at this time, various poems inevitably pursued complexity, exhausting variations. Some theories even advocated that for moon-praising poems, not even appearing the character for "moon" was best, yet these lyrics began with such a question as "When did the bright moon first appear?" But combined with the next line, it had already naturally unfolded the artistic conception. By the time of "palaces in heaven," that poetic conception had naturally, without any abruptness, transformed from a babbling brook into high mountains and flowing water. And the following lines "I wish to ride the wind and return..." directly transformed the entire first half's artistic conception into something as grand as the Yangtze River flowing into the sea, while simultaneously remaining so ethereal, not carrying half a trace of mundane air. In just a few lines, it was a celestial palace atmosphere that made hearts expansive and spirits free.

Since the Tang Dynasty, after several hundred years of poetry development, works with profound and grand artistic conception were also numerous, though by this time, many poems often walked the path of exhausting elaborate complexity and variation. If they could return, there were naturally also masters who returned to simplicity, and whether simple or complex, naturally each had characteristics. But those able to reach this present level of artistic conception were very few—this artistic conception expanded along with the poem's changes, yet handled weight as if it were light, utterly natural. It was actually similar to the early Tang golden age literati's style of unconstrained boldness that could roam like heavenly horses yet never stray from the theme. With just the first half, this Water Melody Prelude's masterly air was already fully revealed, and Pan Guangyan paused, raised his head to look at the talented scholars below, before continuing to read the second half.

"Revolving around the red pavilion, lowering to a silk-work door, it shines upon the sleepless. It should not have resentment; why is it always full at times of separation?... People have sorrows, joys, parting and reunions, the moon is dark, bright, waxes or wanes; these problems have been this way since ancient times... Yet one hopes for longevity; a thousand miles apart, together seeing the moon's beauty."

"...Yet one hopes for longevity; a thousand miles apart, together seeing the moon's beauty." The lyrics flowed smoothly off the tongue. After finishing, Pan Guangyan murmured and repeated the last line, looking at everyone, continuously nodding slightly, and after a long while, he finally sighed. "...What a fine poem." At this time people in the garden exchanged glances, some murmuring and repeating the lyrics, and it was exceptionally quiet. Actually if it were other lyrics that would be one thing, but this Water Melody Prelude indeed had charm that wouldn't fade even after flowing for a thousand years. In poets' eyes, later generations even had the evaluation "For Mid-Autumn poems, since Water Melody Prelude emerged, all other poems are obsolete," and those seated at this time made their living from this. They'd studied poetry for decades, some even a lifetime, and hearing it now, what they suddenly felt was perhaps momentum similar to this.

It was also in such an atmosphere that Old Kang over there reached for the paper, first reading it once, slowly nodding. A moment later, when he looked again, he seemed to notice something, blinking his eyes doubtfully and making an "Eh?" sound, then frowning as he thought of something, his facial expression became splendid. Noticing his appearance, Old Qin who was still thinking about these lyrics in his heart turned his head.

"What is it?"

"Heh... take a look."

He passed over the paper, and Old Qin held it and squinted, reading character by character from "When did the bright moon first appear" all the way to "a thousand miles apart, together seeing the moon's beauty" without finding anything amiss. Indeed a fine poem—he exhaled, gently shaking his head, then his eyes also narrowed, pausing.

After the lyrics there were naturally still several characters, but at this time everyone was still experiencing these lines, and just now Pan Guangyan also hadn't noticed to look.

That paper's lower left bore a signature, strikingly written with seven characters.

—Su Residence.

—Ning Yi.

—Ning Liheng.

Old Qin froze, then looked at Old Kang, and after a while, he laughed despite himself.

"Ha..."

In the Su residence's small building, Ning Yi got up to drink water and suddenly sneezed greatly, almost choking, then groggily slept back, pulling the quilt tight.

Mm, the cold wouldn't be getting worse again, would it...

(End of Chapter)