Chapter 103 — He Yu
Purple Streets of Chang'an · Page 1 of 4
Dou Yan had called Song Yan in to be her ghostwriter, and she had done it as brazenly as this.
"What? Is something wrong?" Dou Yan paid their reactions no mind and went on slowly. "It's all ghostwriting anyway, so what difference does it make who does it? Besides, Song Yan's hand is far better than mine."
To write spring couplets for the renowned young Provincial Graduate Ji Jianming, Master Ji Yong, had already flushed Song Yan's face with excitement. Now, hearing Dou Zhiwei's words, he could not help casting Dou Yan a grateful look and declared loudly, brimming with emotion, "Master Ji, my writing may not be as good as Fourth Miss says, but I will write with the greatest care..."
Who would have thought Ji Yong would say bluntly, "Since it's not as good as Fourth Miss says, on what grounds do you propose to write my spring couplets?"
Song Yan froze where he stood, mortified.
Dou Yan's face went white with anger. She gave a cold laugh. "The man was only being modest and polite, and you took him at his word." She called to Song Yan, "Since Master Ji has no need of help here, we may as well go back first!"
Off to one side, He Yu watched with narrowed, smiling eyes.
Ji Yong's face turned livid at once. He called to Song Yan, "Stay where you are! Write a few characters first and let me see them!"
Song Yan looked at Dou Yan, then at Ji Yong, plainly at a loss.
Dou Chiyou sighed silently to himself.
A mere xiucai before a provincial graduate was like a son before his father, to say nothing of a Song Yan with no degree to his name at all.
But the man had been brought here by her own hand; she could hardly abandon him now.
So Dou Yan said to Song Yan, "Then write a few characters and let Provincial Graduate Ji have a look." Then, putting on a show of competitive spirit, she added, "Don't let Provincial Graduate Ji look down on us!"—smoothing over the awkwardness of a moment before.
He Yu's eyes lit up.
Song Yan answered "Yes" again and again and walked timidly up to the writing desk.
Ji Yong's expression softened slightly, and he followed.
Once he took up the brush, Song Yan grew wholly composed, as though he had become another man; a look of firm resolve came into his brow. His strokes were steady and powerful, and the Yan-style regular script he wrote was dignified and upright, showing real skill. Even Ji Yong gave an "Eh?" and put aside his dismissiveness, settling down to watch him closely.
He Yu glanced at Dou Yan, then went over to watch as well.
Dou Yan pursed her lips at Ji Yong.
Song Yan laid down the brush and stepped respectfully to one side, inviting Ji Yong to appraise the work.
Ji Yong stood where he was, hands behind his back, and glanced carelessly at the desk. "Can you make couplets?" he asked.
His manner was grave and his tone indifferent, carrying the lofty condescension of one who holds the strong in esteem. For the first time, Dou Yan felt that the man before her had something of the bearing of a young provincial graduate flushed with success.
"I beg your instruction, Master!" Song Yan braced himself, anxious and uneasy.
Ji Yong said in a clear voice, "Cold the year, the plum's bone proud."
.
So... banal a couplet?
He Yu gave a stifled laugh. "How about matching it with 'Snow gone, the horse's hoof light'?" A flicker of mockery passed through his eyes.
Ji Yong shot He Yu a cold glance.
He Yu raised an eyebrow, unconcerned.
Song Yan, however, lowered his head and fell into careful thought.
Dou Yan too composed herself to wait and see.
What exactly did Ji Yong mean by it?
He ought not to have set so shallow a couplet.
What sort of content would suit his mind?
"Warm the wind, the grass's heart fragrant"?
That was a little too simple as well.
As Dou Yan was guessing, she heard Song Yan, quaking with fear, answer, "Spring warm, all things revive."
"That will do!" Ji Yong said. "Use this desk. Finish two hundred spring couplets and you're done."