Chapter Forty-Eight: Jiang Han Again-Com trezentos poemas famosos abalando nações, só quero ser um comerciante rico!(Apoiado na varanda, observo a lua brilhante.)

As Zhou Yun spoke, everyone present was slightly taken aback, involuntarily recalling the poem "Butterfly Lingering in Flowers: Spring Scenery" that Jiang Han had just recited.

With that masterpiece preceding it, the crowd did not think much of the poem Zhou Yun was about to chant, and even felt a touch of pity.

Even if this courtesan Jade Flute possessed the reputation of a talented woman and her mastery of poetry was profound, how could she possibly surpass Jiang Han using the same tune title, "Butterfly Lingering in Flowers"?

Zhou Yun felt somewhat puzzled by the changing expressions on everyone's faces, but she composed herself, looked out at the distant green mountains and clear waters, let her thoughts drift far away, and immersed herself in that "Butterfly Lingering in Flowers" lyric.

She had read that poem countless times these past few days; recalling it once more, she could still feel its desolate loneliness, and her expression turned somber.

Opening her lips slightly, amidst the dismissive glances of the crowd, she chanted slowly:

"Leaning against the lofty tower in the fine, faint breeze."

Quite a few talented scholars could not help but start in surprise. Oh? This opening line seemed rather good!

Gazing into the distance at the spring grass and the clear sky under the bright sun, Zhou Yun gently recited:

"Gazing afar, spring sorrow breeds boundlessly at the edge of the sky.
Amidst grass colors, misty light, and the fading glow of the setting sun,
Who is there to understand my longing as I lean against the balustrade in silence?"

The scholars present stared at Zhou Yun in astonishment. They had not expected that Zhou Yun's composition would also be about spring scenery, nor had they anticipated that the standard would be so extraordinarily high!

Just this first half stanza evoked a soul-crushing spring melancholy, inevitably stirring sorrow in the hearts of listeners.

Yin Rong also looked at Zhou Yun in shock. He had invited this famed courtesan merely to add some flavor to the literary gathering and attract more scholars, never imagining that she could produce such an exceptional lyric. Although he had only heard the first half, its standard was already not inferior to his own.

Zhou Yun took a slow, dainty step forward. Her voice was crisp and tender, now tinged with a threefold sorrow:

"I am inclined to indulge in wild extravagance for a single bout of drunkenness.
Facing wine and singing songs, forced joy remains tasteless.
Though my clothes grow looser day by day, I have no regrets;
For your sake, I waste away in sorrow."

When the final line fell, absolute silence descended upon the gathering. Everyone stared in utter amazement at the courtesan, unable to recover their wits for a long time.

Many were so immersed in the poetic charm of the lyric that they could not extricate themselves; the more they savored it, the more they realized this was yet another masterpiece!

The young ladies of noble families present were all literate, and since the poem was not difficult to understand, some maidens could not help sobbing softly upon hearing the final line:

"Though my clothes grow looser day by day, I have no regrets. For your sake, I waste away in sorrow... This poem is so heartbreaking!"

"If someone treated me like this, I would be willing to marry him even if he were a beggar."

"Originally, I despised Zhou Yun in my heart because she is a courtesan, but for her to be able to compose such a poem—her talent truly surpasses mine a hundredfold."

Wang Siyi exclaimed in surprise, "I never expected Miss Zhou to possess such remarkable talent. This poem is truly so touching."

Although Jiang Han's poem was also exceptionally fine, for women, this particular lyric was evidently far more capable of stirring their hearts.

Gu Xirou was also somewhat startled, feeling a slight sense of relief in her heart.

Although this poem was not composed by Yin Rong, as long as it could surpass Jiang Han's piece, it would make her feel a little better.

With this "Butterfly Lingering in Flowers," people would temporarily forget Jiang Han's "Butterfly Lingering in Flowers: Spring Scenery."

"They always said Miss Zhou's beauty and talent were an unrivaled pair; seeing her today, I realize those words are no exaggeration!"

"Miss Zhou's poem is simply too wonderful! With this work, she is undoubtedly the foremost talented woman of Yunyang County... No, even placed in the city of Luoyang, she would be the foremost talented woman."

"This poem has moved me to the core. From this day forward, I am Miss Zhou's devoted dog!"

Many scholars could not stop nodding in praise, and the atmosphere at the venue surged once more.

They had originally thought Jiang Han's poem was the pinnacle of this literary gathering, yet who would have expected Miss Zhou's piece to be not the least bit inferior? What was most crucial was that both lyrics used the same tune title and the exact same theme, yet both turned out to be masterpieces among masterpieces.

Yin Rong could not help but smile. He, too, was astonished that Zhou Yun could produce such a fine poem; this way, the limelight of the gathering would not be entirely monopolized by Jiang Han.

Laughing heartily, Yin Rong stepped forward two paces and said, "Miss Zhou's poem captures the essence of spring sorrow to the utmost, leaving one utterly heartbroken. I am filled with admiration! This lyric is unquestionably the crown of this literary gathering!"

In truth, the two "Butterfly Lingering in Flowers" lyrics were evenly matched, but as long as he declared Zhou Yun's piece to be the champion, people would subconsciously forget Jiang Han's, thereby diminishing the impact Jiang Han's poem had created.

"With Miss Zhou's poem at this gathering, if word of it spreads, it will surely become a celebrated romance! Miss Zhou's extraordinary talent truly lives up to her reputation as a gifted woman!"

Yin Rong gazed ardently at Zhou Yun. Given such talent, once this poem spread, she would undoubtedly become the premier talented woman of Luoyang.

Later, he must prepare some poetry and visit the Condense-Fragrance Pavilion to see if he could become one of her favored guests.

"Though Miss Zhou is a courtesan, her literary grace... is something we can only look up to from afar, utterly beyond our reach."

"To be able to hear two completely different versions of 'Butterfly Lingering in Flowers' today, this trip has truly not been in vain!"

The crowd's emotions ran high.

Yet Zhou Yun smiled apologetically and said, "Everyone has misunderstood. This 'Butterfly Lingering in Flowers' was not composed by this humble maid."

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone present froze.

"Ah? This poem wasn't written by Miss Zhou?"

"Actually, I realized it too; this lyric is clearly written from the perspective of a man expressing his feelings for his beloved. How could it possibly have been written by Miss Zhou?"

"Miss Zhou, you aren't joking, are you?"

Zhou Yun replied, "This poem was indeed not composed by me, but rather written for me by a young gentleman. This humble maid truly dares not claim it as her own."

Upon hearing this, Yin Rong's brow twitched. For some unknown reason, an ominous premonition surged in his heart.

"May I ask, Miss Zhou, which young gentleman composed this poem? Please tell us so that we may know which talented scholar it was."

"Able to compose such a poem... I heard that Yuan Bin, one of the Four Great Scholars and a master of lyric poetry, recently arrived in Yunyang County. Could it have been written by Yuan Bin?"

"Oh, that is very likely! Yuan Bin bears the reputation of a lyric master, and he is known for his romantic and dashing demeanor, as well as his fondness for brothels. It is quite likely he wrote it."

Gu Xirou smiled and said, "I wonder who could have authored this lyric: 'Though my clothes grow looser day by day, I have no regrets; for your sake, I waste away in sorrow...' This person's talent far surpasses Jiang Han's! It's just a pity that such a poem was written for a courtesan!"

Her curiosity regarding the author of the poem grew even more intense.

"Hmph, Siyi, did you see that? This is what a true scholar looks like." At that moment, Gu Xirou wanted nothing more than to invalidate Jiang Han's talent.

Wang Siyi remained utterly silent. She looked at Zhou Yun, then glanced at Gu Xirou.

For some reason, a certain figure suddenly surfaced in her mind.

Could it be him? Surely not? Surely not... If it really was him, Xirou would probably truly regret this.

"This poem was not written by Yuan Bin, but rather..." Zhou Yun swept her gaze across the crowd. Everyone was watching her with pricked ears, their faces flush with curiosity, all eager to know the true identity of that talented scholar.

A cool breeze swept past, fluttering the strands of Zhou Yun's hair. She parted her lips slightly and softly uttered that person's name:

"His name... is Jiang Han."

As the voice faded, dead silence fell over the gathering; not a single person spoke.

The smile on Yin Rong's face froze solid.

Gu Xirou stood dumbstruck like a wooden chicken.

Wang Siyi drew a sharp breath, a look of "it really is him" dawning upon her face.