Chapter 228: Wonderful Kitchen Chapter 230: Appreciation

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Protagonist:

Song Miao

Chen Fuzi covered the paper with his left hand and made a shooing gesture with his right, saying: "Go, go! Don't you have enough reading material over there? Get back to work! There's a huge pile you can't finish!"

"You say that! Can one piece of writing be the same as another!"

Liu Hanlin said while already leaning his head over.

He pushed aside Chen Fuzi's hand blocking him and said: "Reading good writing is like drinking sweet wine, drunk without knowing it; reading bad writing is like entering a fish market, stinking beyond endurance—don't block me, let me look again. This matter, don't think you can hide it from me—it must be Han Zhengyan with another fine piece, right?!"

One covered, one snatched, one blocked, one dodged, all using hands and feet, even waists and legs joined in, they fought a ridiculous bout where not a single hair fell out, until Chen Fuzi was panting, feigning concession, and spat: "Don't, don't! Don't spill my green plum dew!"

He also called out: "Let you look, let you look! Who told you to have no talent, unable to bring out a few fine pieces of writing!"

Liu Hanlin opened his mouth to retort, "Is it you who brought it?" already at his throat, but his gaze fell on the paper, and like hitting old paste boiled for tens of thousands of years, he was stuck fast, and his mouth seemed pasted shut too, unable to open again.

That paper had previously been held high by Chen Fuzi, now he snatched it into his hand, lowered his head and looked.

Eight or nine steps away to the side, there was clearly another chair, and after walking five or six breaths he could sit down, but he only cared about looking at the writing on the paper, actually half-leaning against Chen Fuzi's armchair back, standing stupidly, unwilling to move an inch, even his breathing lightened.

Chen Fuzi saw his appearance, pushed him, and pointed to the armchair not far away: "Go sit and look—don't let the people below see, saying I won't even give you a seat!"

He pushed once, seeing no reaction, then pushed hard twice more.

Liu Hanlin didn't lift his head, impatiently waved his hand, like shooing flies, muttering: "Don't make noise! Don't disturb me!"

The writing was four pages total, only a few hundred words. Liu Hanlin turned it over and over, read it repeatedly, and when he reached certain phrases, he unconsciously read aloud softly. At exciting parts, he even shook his head and swayed his brain, making sounds like "yi xu yi yi yi," completely lost in himself.

Just then Xiao You walked in through the door carrying a stack of official documents. Seeing Liu Hanlin like this, he hurriedly said: "Sir, what's wrong with Gentleman Liu?"

At the same time, he hurriedly moved to carry the armchair over for him to sit.

Chen Fuzi watched with great amusement, saying: "Never mind! What happened to you last night, now happens to him—a bookish fool, his heart and mind bewitched by writing!"

A few hundred words of writing, Liu Hanlin looked for a long time, almost seeing through the paper.

Seeing it was the Shang Mao hour, Chen Fuzi urged him: "Go! Are you still going to work or not!"

Liu Hanlin sighed, looked up, but his eyes were red at the corners. He waved the manuscript in his hand and said: "Old Chen, let me borrow this to use for a bit. I'll return it to you at noon!"

Chen Fuzi stopped smiling, said nothing, only swept him with a cold glance.

When Liu Hanlin's eyes weren't on the writing, he was actually quite tactful, hurrying to say: "Oh my, it's all for official business—you know I'm compiling the Jin History, currently at the generals and commanders section. But that bunch of idlers keep perfunctorily dealing with me! What they write may not be unreadable, but either every piece is like it's cut from the same mold, fitted into a fixed framework, or the language is piled up chaotically, everything stacked on top!"

"Clearly writing about generals and commanders, but they write them so cold and icy—it's not as good as Zheng Yan here describing an ordinary runner, which makes one's blood hot!"

"Last time I took it to show the Participating Councilor, and it was sent back for me to revise. I have one pen, how am I supposed to revise it! Zheng Yan's piece here is just right to give them a foundation, and they should realize writing isn't confined to one format, that there aren't only those few ways of writing!"

He put on a bitter act while secretly watching Chen Fuzi's expression. Seeing the other was unmoved, he had to say: "Like this, Old Chen. That 'Yu Xiang Tu'—I'll reluctantly part with some of my love for it and let you place it there for appreciation for a month or so?"

"What reluctantly part with some love!" Chen Fuzi glared at the bottle Liu Hanlin hadn't put down even while looking at the writing, and cursed angrily: "This 'Yu Xiang Tu' was exchanged with my green plum dew!"

"I still have the 'Cold Food Festival Invitation Card' I managed to get, a Xun Kuang version stele rubbing!"

Chen Fuzi only lifted his eyelids and coughed once.

Liu Hanlin gritted his teeth and said: "The other day I borrowed Fan Chong Li's 'Xi Shan Xing Lv Tu' and haven't had time to look at it carefully. I only borrowed it for five days. I'll have my family send it to your residence shortly. You look at it for two days, and give me the remaining three!"

Chen Fuzi sat up straight all at once, his beard shaking several times, and asked urgently: "The one in Old Tao's hand? He never lends it out, does he? How did you get it?!"

"Shh! Shh! Don't spread it outside!" Liu Hanlin whispered. "Don't worry about that. Do you want it or not? Trade or not?!"

"Only five days?!"

"Five days I begged hard for!"

"I'll look at it for three days, and give you the remaining two!"

Liu Hanlin hardened his heart and said: "Deal!"

While saying this, he hugged the writing and was about to run.

Chen Fuzi shouted desperately behind him: "My green plum dew! What are you taking my green plum dew away for!"

Liu Hanlin ultimately couldn't walk off with the green plum dew.

He held the manuscript in one hand and a bamboo tube filled with green plum drink in the other. Walking on the road, he couldn't stop savoring the writing he had just read and recited. He walked a few steps, then couldn't help but stop for a moment to look again. After reading it several times, he could already remember most of the content, but he was old now, not like before. There were always things he couldn't remember clearly. Unless he looked again, confirmed it, and savored it once more, his feet seemed to have no strength at all.

It was now the time for the dian mao roll call. He walked and stopped, meeting many colleagues along the way.

The Jixian Yuan had the most old men. When they met, they had to exchange greetings. Just then, someone saw Liu Hanlin stopping and walking, staring at the manuscript in his hand without letting go, and stepped forward to ask: "Old Liu, what are you doing? You're this old already, walking without looking at the road. Be careful not to fall!"

He came forward and helped support him.

With this support, that person's eyes swept over and he let out a "yi." His gaze was as if glued to the paper, and he couldn't move.

Passersby saw this and thought it strange, asking: "What is it? Why are they all looking stupid one after another?"

When more people gathered around, they first muttered "What a thing!" but soon they also stood still, staring at the paper, unwilling to leave.

One gives birth to two, two gives birth to three, three gives birth to all things.

As more and more people gathered around Liu Hanlin, fortunately he was tall, and he held the manuscript up high enough that those standing behind could still see clearly.

Finally, the first person who read faster reached the end, came back to himself from the content, and hurriedly called out: "Old Liu, it's time to turn the page! Quickly turn out the next sheet."

Liu Hanlin played dumb.

As more and more people saw the end, they all urged him: "Old Liu, don't just stand there, it's time to turn the page!"

Old Liu looked up, pretending to have just woken up, but he clutched the manuscript to his chest and said: "Turn what page! This is something I exchanged for at a great price. Am I supposed to let you see it for free?!"

Saying this, he hurriedly tried to leave.

He was grabbed by many hands at once.

"Aiya, don't be in such a hurry to leave!"

"Where did this writing come from?"

"Old Liu, this way of doing things isn't proper, is it!"

"Putting on that act, you're no spring chicken—who doesn't see through whom? What do you want? Say it quick, don't hold up my reading of the rest!"

"Let me finish reading first, we can negotiate the price!"

After about the time it takes to drink a teacup, everyone had quoted their prices, stood at the back, and finally gathered around to finish reading that article.

After Liu Hanlin returned to his room, soon seven or eight scribes from different departments rushed in, each holding brush and ink, bringing their own paper, grabbing seats, and began writing furiously, keng qi keng qi copying the manuscript.

While copying, they also exchanged comments with each other.

"How many copies are you making?"

"Title of Guiren (Wu) told me to copy two first, then find others to copy together when I get back!"

"I only need to copy one on my end, they told me to finish and hurry back, someone's waiting on the other side."

"Who has the first page? Let me copy the first page first, so I can start from the beginning!"

"Who doesn't want to copy the first page first? Draw lots!"

"Sigh, Older Brother, move your hand, you're blocking the words!"

"Damn, this brother changed his writing style!"

"This article is very simple, solid, and easy to read!"

"Simple? You show me something simple! The simpler it is, the harder it is to write!"

"Exactly, besides, when has his writing ever been hard to read?"

"It's getting easier and easier to read. He used to care about literary style, but this year, besides the parallel sentences in Dong Xun's Night Tour, there were many antithetical couplets, then by Yellow Dog it was mostly short sentences, and now this piece uses very concise words, reading it doesn't tax the brain at all, the emotion just sweeps you along, yet it doesn't feel shallow—damn, I've copied so many of his articles, why can't I learn?"

"You've copied so many articles, you want to learn them all one by one? Do you think you're the Star of Literature descended to earth? You'd have aced the imperial exam already, or at least become a jinshi, how would it be your turn to be like me, at my age still doing a copying clerk's job here!"

"Don't talk, don't talk, I haven't finished reading yet!"

"Hey, once we finish copying we're done, but those composition officials will cry—every time this brother's new draft comes out, they praise first then curse!"

A new scribe who didn't understand couldn't help but ask: "Tian Brother, such a good article, there's no time to praise it enough, why would those composition officials curse?"

That Tian Brother laughed heartily and said: "Younger brother, the superiors told us to copy books, normally copying the Guan Guan Ti style casually is enough to get by, now they give you a Gong Quan Ti style and tell you to write according to it, yet you must keep its spirit and can't just copy the gourd by the pattern—don't you curse the streets?"

The new scribe's face changed at once, suddenly realizing, he asked in alarm: "It wouldn't be that the superiors want them to write according to this, would it?"

He also said: "I've heard you say this and that, but the officials gave no instructions, and the article has no signature, how does it seem like everyone knows who wrote it?"

"Forget the others, Xiangfu Yellow Dog, Cao Gate Fighting Chickens—you don't know who wrote them?"

When that scribe heard Yellow Dog he didn't feel anything, but upon hearing the two words after "Cao Gate," he let out an "ah," his hand slipped, and he actually drew a long ink streak on the paper, completely unaware, and instead hurriedly stood up, no longer copying, rushing first to find the first sheet of draft paper to look at the beginning of the article.

That very evening, as soon as Liu Hanlin got home and entered his study, he saw the desk already piled high with many "benefits" sent by colleagues' families.

Ancient books he had borrowed several times but were put off with excuses, paper and brushes he had asked for a long time but they refused to sell—this time ten sheets were sent directly, two hard-to-get hanging scrolls, and also treasured manuscripts by predecessors.

Seeing these, Liu Hanlin even felt that the "Travelers Among Mountains and Streams" he had spent great effort to borrow, with only two days of viewing time left, wasn't so painful anymore.

But though the table was full of dazzling items, at this moment he didn't go look at them, nor had the mood to appreciate them, only lowered his head and read the article in his hand once more.

"It's still the young people who are full of vigor, with firm bones and straight spines, wielding the brush like a knife... wielding the brush like a knife!"

The old compilers at Jixian Yuan naturally were not just compilers.

They had people copy the manuscript, first to compare and instruct their subordinates, telling them to be more careful in future work, and second to take back and distribute to their disciples, old friends, sons, and younger students.

One tells ten, ten tell a hundred.

Soon, in wine towers, tea houses, streets and alleys, there were scholars shaking their heads and swaying their brains, reciting and discussing Han Li's newly written article.

A good article will grow legs on its own.

Not only that, it will also transform.

It transformed from text into stories in the mouths of storytellers, and also into secrets in the mouths of old women and old men on the streets and in the alleys.

After another two days, it was finally carried by the Imperial City Office across Xuan De Gate and presented before the Emperor's desk.

Recently the Bian Canal was not flowing smoothly, grain transport was difficult, and it had already affected the supply of Jingcheng.

Coincidentally, news came from the upper reaches of Huang He that there had been continuous rainstorms, water levels rising day by day, worrying that the flood season was approaching.

When Liu Ta He was only half built, the manpower, material resources, and financial resources consumed had already greatly exceeded expectations; now it was like a constantly expanding pixiu, only eating and not pulling, yet the project was already half done and could not stop, and no one knew if it would ultimately be useful or not.

The Emperor was anxious and worried, with blisters in his mouth, and for five or six days there was no improvement.

Everyone at court wanted to speak, many opened their mouths, each with a different voice; Zhao Yu, however much he was the Emperor, had only two ears, was also a mortal, and moreover Liu Dao River was the first major river project of this dynasty, with no precedent, truly not knowing whom to listen to.

Fortunately that day there was no morning court session; in Chui Gong Dian he discussed state affairs with the Two Prefectures for half a day, learning that although Liu Ta He could not be completed on schedule, with the current progress, when the summer flood arrived on time it would not be entirely unusable, and Zhao Yu finally breathed a little easier.

When the ministers dispersed for a moment, he also reviewed memorials for half a day, and it was already lunchtime.

The weather was hot, and he had blisters in his mouth, so naturally he had no appetite.

Knowing that the Empress was entertaining noble ladies today, he was the only one at the table.

The Da Wei royal family had always valued frugality; even though he was the Emperor, there were only a few dishes on the table. Zhao Yu reluctantly ate two or three bites, but ate quite a lot of the lotus root slices.

After the meal, he had someone bring the daily record to look at; it had been two days since he had gone to pay respects to the Empress Dowager. Taking advantage of the time before naptime, he hurriedly went to Ciming Palace first.

After entering the hall and exchanging greetings, mother and son chatted for a while. Zhao Yu suddenly felt something was wrong and couldn't help asking: "Mother, why are your eyes a little red? Are you feeling unwell? Or shall I summon an Imperial Physician to take a look?"

Empress Dowager Yang hurriedly shook her head and said: "It's nothing. I just read an article and was momentarily indignant. I'm old, my eyelids are shallow, and I accidentally shed a few tears, which made my eyes red."

"What article made Mother shed tears? That's not good." Zhao Yu interjected.

"Your Majesty should have read it already, right?" Empress Dowager Yang pointed to a table case nearby. "I don't know if you have any thoughts?"

Zhao Yu was stunned and said: "These past two days, I've been busy with grain transport and the Liu Ta He matter; I simply haven't had time to attend to other things."

Empress Dowager Yang hurriedly had someone bring the article over and handed it to him, saying: "It's a new article by that student surnamed Han..."

Zhao Yu took it with both hands and at a glance saw the three large characters on the rightmost title.

Xin Feng Brick.

Who is Xin Feng?

Reading further, the opening was a plain narrative sentence.

—Xin Feng was a man of Pan Tao Lane, a Censor. His nature was violent and tyrannical, and all feared him.