When it came to writing poetry, He Yunzhao had her own rhythm.
To avoid suspicion of plagiarism, she had undergone rigorous study of classical poetry and produced numerous refined works praised by her tutor.
Poetry was divided into two types: classical-style poetry and regulated verse. Classical-style poetry was relatively free—it could use four, five, or seven characters per line, with flexible rhyming schemes that could even change midway.
"Guan guan ju jiu, zai he zhi zhou" from the Book of Songs was a typical four-character poem. "Qing qing yuan zhong kui, zhao lu dai ri xi" from the Han dynasty's Music Bureau poem "Chang Ge Xing" was a five-character example, while seven-character poems were even more numerous.
However, this classical-style poetry had completely disappeared from the Imperial Examination. Similar to the Ming dynasty, Da Jin's Imperial Examination primarily featured regulated verse.
Regulated verse included five-character quatrains, seven-character quatrains, five-character regulated verse, and seven-character regulated verse.
He Yunzhao often wrote five-character quatrains—they were simpler in word count, less complex in rhythm, and generally only required rhyming. Regulated verse, on the other hand, demanded strict parallelism.
For example, five-character regulated verse required the second and third couplets to demonstrate perfect parallelism, with even-numbered lines rhyming, as in: "The nation shattered, mountains and rivers remain; Spring in the city, plants and trees grow deep. Moved by the times, flowers bring tears; Hating separation, birds startle the heart."
Writing regulated verse required more contemplation, while quatrains allowed for greater creative freedom, making them more suitable for He Yunzhao's personal compositions.
If required to write about an object—using flowers as an example—to compose a five-character quatrain, the first, second, and fourth lines must rhyme, while the third line does not.
The first two lines should vividly depict the scene, the third line should employ rhetorical devices using the scenery to evoke human emotions and circumstances. The trick was to personify as much as possible—personify whenever possible! Personify as many lines as possible! The quality was guaranteed.
Writing about chrysanthemums—
Elegance natural born, not competing with common blooms.Standing alone in autumn wind, noble aspirations overflow.
This overly argumentative format and veteran approach sometimes led her to express emotions that clearly didn't belong to her. Although her tutor found it somewhat exasperating, he still greatly acknowledged the quality of her writing and had grown accustomed to her rhyming-forced emotional expressions and the courage to write whatever came to mind.
Those years when He Yunzhao struggled for the sake of rhyme…
Though Ding Hanzhang occasionally couldn't resist scolding her for writing nonsense just to maintain rhyme, he actually held her poetic talent in high regard.
The fact that she could produce poetry while maintaining average quality already placed her far above many literati.
Ding Hanzhang slightly restrained his praise to prevent his student from becoming arrogant, but according to his assessment, He Yunzhao's poetic talent could rank among the top ten literati under thirty years old—not just in the capital, but throughout the entire Da Jin region.
This was already extremely high praise.
…
The He family wasn't short of money, but they couldn't be considered extremely wealthy either. Most of the silver couldn't be spent freely, as it was reserved for He Jinmo's future dowry and He Yunzhao's betrothal gifts. Although both Mother He and Old Madam He knew He Yunzhao's true identity, surface formalities still had to be maintained.
Cuiling approached carrying newly perfumed clothes, speaking in an extremely measured tone: "Third Master, this garment was newly made last month. The Madam said you should wear it when you go out to attend Literary Gatherings."
He Yunzhao, who still held a book scroll in her hand, set it down upon seeing someone enter. She briskly removed her everyday robe, standing in plain white undergarments with arms outstretched, waiting for Cuiling to help her dress properly.
Once formed, habits are hard to break, and He Yunzhao was no exception. Having been cared for since infancy, though strictly supervised in early childhood, by the age of five she had many servants dedicated to attending her.
The household knew the Third Master had strict rules—no one except Sister Cuiling was permitted to serve her personally.
Cuiling was the granddaughter of Mother He’s wet nurse, Qin Shi. Born with a slight stutter, she spoke slowly. By seven or eight, she knew she was destined to follow He Yunzhao. Later, Old Madam He sent her to study medicine so she could at least treat minor ailments for He Yunzhao, avoiding outside physicians whose pulse readings would instantly reveal her gender.
"This color is quite subdued," He Yunzhao remarked in surprise.
The attire commonly worn by scholar-officials at Literary Gatherings came in limited styles. He Yunzhao usually wore round-collared robes, but for the gathering, she changed into a straight-collar gown—a loose, cross-collared long garment with a black protective collar embroidered with golden clouds. Over it, she wore a moon-white long vest, her hair wrapped in a square scarf.
Standing before the bronze mirror, she examined her outfit as Cuiling carefully added accessories: a pair of crane-engraved Hetian jade pendants, a silver fish pouch, and a heart-shaped gourd-patterned purse. As she moved, the ornaments clinked softly against her leather belt.
Cuiling, with her gentle, round face, smiled warmly and said slowly, "It looks exquisite."
He Yunzhao couldn’t help but agree, "Clothes make the man, as a saddle makes the horse—how true."
In this outfit, she felt tempted to flick open a fan and play the dashing young master.
But she reminded herself: resist. Don’t become the kind of greasy man she despised.
In September, when autumn begonias bloomed in full splendor, the Literary Gathering took them as its theme.
Qi Jun, once the closed-door disciple of a great Confucian scholar, had earned the title of Presented Scholar during Emperor Taizong’s reign.
Of humble origins and cautious by nature, he had risen solely on merit. Yet, lacking funds for prayers or incense, his luck turned sour—he was caught in the "Silk" case of Taizong’s era.
Dismissed after just three months in office, his official experience ended as soon as it began.
But Qi Jun was fortunate. Years later, it became clear that the "Silk" case had been fabricated by the previous emperor to frame rivals!
Though morally questionable, the previous emperor was a capable ruler. He admired Qi Jun’s tenacity—how he had nearly uncovered the truth.
After ascending the throne, the previous emperor appointed Qi Jun successively as Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, Right Vice Minister of Works, and Chancellor of the Imperial College. His career trajectory, reflected in these ranks, was a rollercoaster.
With remarkable resilience, Qi Jun retired three years into the current emperor’s reign. By then, his experiences were vast:
Hardship in youth, recognition by a great scholar in adolescence, a brush with corrupt forces upon entering officialdom, forced return to teaching—occasionally penning poems to criticize those forces—only to have the very forces, now in power, admire him.
After over a decade teaching unruly children without producing a single Cultivated Talent, Qi Jun, tempered by patience, forgave his past tormentors.
Then, achieving success late in life, he weathered promotions, demotions, transfers, new leadership, and retirement—all by age fifty-five.
Liu Yuan, attending the Literary Gathering with his disciples, recounted Qi Jun’s journey and sighed, "Youthful talent is the greatest advantage of all."
He Yunzhao nodded in agreement. Indeed, fame should be sought early. Given Teacher Qi's experience, if he had only become a Presented Scholar at an older age, by the time the late emperor remembered him, he might have already returned to his ancestral grave.
In fact, Qi Jun had become a Presented Scholar at the young age of twenty. When the late emperor ascended the throne and summoned him back, he was only thirty-two! At that age, some people hadn't even passed the Cultivated Talent examination.
The Qi residence was located in the western part of the capital, with its backyard garden extending between the Xiang Jun Prince's mansion and the Duke of Li's residence, neatly separating the two estates.
He Yunzhao's grandmother, Li Shi, was the eldest daughter of the Xiang Jun Prince. Although the Xiang Prince's household hadn't touched any real power since the founding of Da Jin, and her great-grandfather, as the second Xiang Prince, had been particularly obscure.
But life, after all, should be measured by its length, not by fleeting moments.
The Xiang Jun Prince enjoyed good health, a positive mindset, and longevity. The old gentleman was now seventy-seven, making him the oldest and highest-ranking member of the imperial clan—even the emperor had to address him as "Grand Uncle."
Sometimes, longevity itself is the greatest advantage. Such was the life of the Xiang Prince—the older he grew, the more esteemed he became.
He Yunzhao followed Teacher Liu Yuan and several senior classmates inside, where they were guided to different seating positions.
The Qi family, being neighbors with the Xiang Prince's mansion, naturally knew well of He Yunzhao's connection to it. The Qi servants carefully directed He Yunzhao and Mu Yan to sit among the young scholars, in positions that were central but closer to the elder gentlemen.
He Yunzhao smiled faintly and nodded, kneeling with her back straight.
She couldn't understand why Literary Gatherings had to insist on using low tables and kneeling postures to appear elegant. In reality, her legs always went numb afterward.
Mu Yan exchanged a glance with her, his eyes sparkling. "Brother, this is a great chance to make a name for yourself! It's up to you now!"
Meeting his gaze, He Yunzhao nodded, thinking to herself whether Mu Yan's legs would also go numb from kneeling.
One shouldn't expect too much from events dominated by men. Floating wine cups along a winding stream was considered elegant, composing linked verses was elegant, and even young girls dancing with bare shoulders and serving wine was considered elegant.
Fortunately, this Lord Qi came from orthodox scholarly roots, so this Literary Gathering remained relatively proper. They merely invited a proper opera troupe to perform one piece.
The so-called proper opera referred to troupes composed entirely of men, where female roles were played by teenage boys.
After one opera performance, the atmosphere warmed up, and the Literary Gathering truly began. Yesterday's light rain had left the begonia flowers blooming around the scholars, with some curiously leaning in to smell their fragrance.
Mu Yan turned his head and whispered, "I wonder when it will be our turn."
He Yunzhao glanced at the teachers conversing with those nearby. "Don't worry, it will be soon. If they don't give us a chance to showcase our talents, what would be the point of holding this Literary Gathering?"
After all, the main purpose was to let the young scholars make an appearance.
Qi Jun sat in the secondary seat, while the main seat was reserved for an elder of higher seniority.
He had a tall and slender build, with the elegant beard typical of scholars. His hair and beard hadn't yet turned white, and his demeanor was gentle, refined, and noble—exemplifying the ideal appearance scholars aspired to achieve.
He inclined his head to listen to what the person beside him said, then looked up carefully before calling out clearly, "Is the third young master of the He family present?"
He Yunzhao paused, calmly swallowed the chewed grape in her mouth, set aside her playful demeanor from moments ago with Mu Yan, lowered her eyebrows and eyes, stood up, and cupped her hands in salute. "Your student is here."
The youth was dressed in a plain straight gown, with a square scarf on his head. His figure was tall and slender, his shoulders narrow yet broad, his eyebrows thick and elegant, and his gaze resolute. Though he carried an air of pride, what youth would not be proud?
As he rose and cupped his hands in salute, his demeanor immediately caught the eye. Qi Jun inwardly praised, "What grace!"
Scholars have always admired refined appearances, and He Yunzhao's elegant and noble bearing perfectly suited their tastes. At a glance, he appeared to be a well-educated young man.
"Step closer and let me have a better look."
As He Yunzhao approached, Qi Jun quietly remarked, "This third son of the He family carries the same aura as the elder Lord He in his youth. Were he to don a Daoist robe, the resemblance would be striking."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Someone frowned and whispered in confusion, "How did the He family, fallen on hard times, manage to gain such favor to be here?"
Another sneered, "What sort of person is this, stepping over us to make a name for himself?"
Ignoring the whispers around her, He Yunzhao stepped forward and said, "Your student, He Yunzhao, pays respects to my lord."
Only then did Qi Jun notice the youth's deep voice, far more pleasant than those of other boys his age, clearly having shed the high pitch of childhood.
Recalling the rumors he had just overheard, Qi Jun asked, "I’ve heard that in Old Master Ding’s Academy, you are regarded as the most gifted in poetry. Is this true?"
He Yunzhao replied modestly, "Your student is untalented. Though I aspire to literary pursuits, my learning is but a drop in the ocean. A stroke or two of cleverness hardly qualifies me as the most gifted."
In truth, she believed her writing was exceptional, but humility was always prudent. People appreciate modesty in the talented, while modesty in the untalented is often mistaken for weakness.
As expected, Qi Jun nodded and asked, "Today’s Literary Gathering is not a formal discussion of the classics. How about I test you with a couplet?"
He Yunzhao bowed. "As my lord commands, your student awaits instruction."
Qi Jun stroked his beard thoughtfully and said, "Green hills, uninked, an eternal painting."
He Yunzhao responded, "Then your student offers: Green waters, unstrung, an ancient zither."
The swiftness of the reply left Qi Jun momentarily stunned, his hand pausing mid-stroke on his beard. At his age and with his wealth of experience, he was not easily impressed by youthful talent.
His intention had merely been to show courtesy to Old Master Ding’s disciples. Everyone knew that while Old Master Ding claimed to have stopped taking students, those admitted to his Academy were all recognized scholars. Though Qi Jun’s status was no less esteemed, he was still a junior in comparison, and it cost him nothing to extend this courtesy at the Literary Gathering.
But He Yunzhao’s rapid response had genuinely astonished him.
In the crowd, only Liu Yuan, a tutor from the Academy, smiled so broadly his eyes disappeared into slits. Mu Yan feigned composure, though his chin lifted ever so slightly. Zhu Jian, who had come with them, pretended nonchalance as he remarked to those nearby, "This is my junior fellow student—moderately talented."
The scholars around him thought, "How you all pretend to be unaffected…"
Qi Jun, now intrigued, proposed another couplet: "Leisurely, I gaze at the moon within the gate.He Yunzhao recognized that the character for "leisurely" could be split into "gate" and "moon." Smiling, she replied, "Your student offers: Reflecting, I plow the field within the heart."Here, 'reflecting' could be split into 'heart' and 'field'."
Qi Jun raised his wine cup and said, "Cold water wine, one dot, two dots, three dots."
He Yunzhao glanced at a young man seated nearby, plucked a flower from the vase on his table, and responded, "Lilac flower, hundred heads, thousand heads, myriad heads."
The young man stared blankly as He Yunzhao tossed the flower back to him. He caught it instinctively, his ears turning red.
"One passes the Great Buddha Temple!"
"The temple Buddha surpasses mortals."
"Three Star White Spirits!"
"May's rainy season!"
"Verdant and crimson, everywhere orioles and swallows!"
"Stormy winds and rains, year after year, dawn and dusk!" He Yunzhao smiled brilliantly like the morning sun, raising an eyebrow proudly as she looked at the excited Mr. Liu Yuan beside her.
Qi Jun slapped his thigh in delight, adding, "Within literature lies drama."
"Within melody hides tune."
He chuckled, "Ah? I haven't finished—there's another line: within drama lies literature."
He Yunzhao suddenly understood, clapping her hands, "I haven't finished either! My next line is: within tune hides melody."
Qi Jun leaned on the table and stood up, "This old man's memory fails me—I didn't complete it. This is a mirrored couplet: within literature lies drama, within drama lies literature; those who understand literature appreciate the words, those who don't understand watch the drama."
He Yunzhao shrugged with a sly smile, "I'm young and forgetful—I didn't finish either. My response is: within melody hides tune, within tune hides melody; those who grasp melody hear the tune, those who don't hear only the sound."
"Excellent! Excellent!" Qi Jun applauded loudly, repeatedly gesturing for He Yunzhao to sit beside him, then inquired in detail about her recent studies, his eyes filled with admiration.
Though the Literary Gathering aimed to build reputations, it also depended on who hosted it. Qi Jun had organized this gathering at the request of his friend Fang Hongwen, whose disciples occupied the front rows. Now, watching this suddenly emerging youth steal the spotlight, they grew restless.
Qu Zhan, hearing his senior's sarcastic remarks, immediately felt displeased. He narrowed his eyes and sneered, "Merely trivial tricks, yet daring to claim literary talent."
The music had just ceased, and everyone was still immersed in the brilliant exchange between the elder and the youth, so the comment was easily overheard.
He Yunzhao followed the voice and saw a fuming young man staring directly at her without evasion. Clearly, this fool had learned about her family background from others.
Qu Zhan had indeed heard—his senior had just told him that this youth came from a fallen family, with a deceased father and no influence left in court.
A sudden silence fell, with the sounds of drinking and conversation gradually fading. He Yunzhao's smile remained unchanged as she glanced at Elder Qi Jun.
The elder's expression was unperturbed; he hadn't even looked in that direction. He Yunzhao bowed slightly, "My apologies."
She lifted her chin toward Qu Zhan and chuckled lightly, "Just playful banter, no need to get agitated, sir."
Qu Zhan flared up instantly—how could a mere comment be called agitation? He shot to his feet, "You!"
Ah, men—so impulsive. Clearly a pawn being manipulated, otherwise who would utter such offensive words in the host's presence? Though couplets might be trivial, the examiner was Lord Qi Jun himself.
"Earlier, sir tested this student. I happen to have an amusing couplet of my own, and I humbly request your evaluation."
He Yunzhao ignored Qu Zhan, instead scanning the faces around him, recognizing a few familiar ones. She met each of their gazes.
A strong presence can be seen in the eyes. Her voice remained calm and gentle, "Reeds on the wall, top-heavy and shallow-rooted."
Qi Jun couldn't hold back a laugh upon hearing the last word—this youngster was quite mischievous. He cleared his throat, "Bamboo shoots in the mountains, sharp-mouthed and thick-skinned, hollow inside."
Reeds growing on walls lack firm foundations, top-heavy and unstable; bamboo shoots appear sharp and thick-skinned but contain no substance within.
Qu Zhan instantly turned pale, instinctively turning to his senior for help but receiving only evasive glances. He slumped back into his seat in defeat.
Mu Yan truly lived up to being He Yunzhao's close friend—he had already begun whispering the new nickname "Qu Bamboo Shoot" for Qu Zhan to those around him.
Throughout the Literary Gathering, He Yunzhao sat calmly beside Qi Jun, occasionally exchanging a word or two. Qi Jun understood well that he had originally come to serve as a foil for others, but unexpectedly, the roles had reversed.
He cared not for such matters. In his youth, he had been one whose talent overshadowed all, and he retained the same temperament now. Talent was the most conspicuous attribute—either one had it or one didn't. Forcing a comparison was merely picking the tallest among the lame.
With a stern expression, he earnestly advised, "If anyone tries to lecture you after this concludes, pay them no mind. Feel free to come to me for guidance."
He Yunzhao bowed her head in gratitude but looked up at Qi Jun and added, "This student does have a method to make them concede wholeheartedly."
"Oh?"
"How could one not compose a poem when the begonias are at their most splendid…"
As the Literary Gathering drew to a close, it was customary to compile the works of the attending scholars into a collection, with the host, Lord Qi Jun, writing the preface. He personally designated He Yunzhao to write first.
As the xuan paper was spread out on the redwood table, Mu Yan gritted his teeth and called out, "Make way, make way!"
Enduring the discontent and even some surreptitious shoves from the crowd, Mu Yan pushed his way to the front, nearly stumbling against the table as he exclaimed, "My lord, this student will grind the ink!"
Qi Jun was puzzled—was this something people competed over? He nodded, "Very well, you may do it."
As the ink stick dissolved, the fragrance of autumn begonias intertwined with the scent of ink. He Yunzhao gathered her sleeves. She relished the feeling of complete focus while writing—from hand to eye, from heart to brush tip—this gradual crystallization of spirit was utterly captivating.
After Qi Jun finished writing the preface, he stood to the side and watched. "…Like…Dream…Lyric…"
"Last night…the rain was sparse, the wind fierce"
"Deep sleep did not dispel…the lingering wine"
"I ask the one rolling up the curtain"
"Who says…the begonia remains the same"
"Do you know…do you know"
"It should be…green abundant, red gaunt"
Line by line, the words fell upon the ears of the audience. The elderly scholars who had been drinking froze for a moment, then nimbly rushed forward, pushing the younger ones aside.
"Green abundant, red gaunt—this line is exquisite, truly exquisite!"
"Marvelous!"
Amid the excited exclamations, as they drew closer to look, they saw the characters on the xuan paper—precise, grand, and neatly arranged, with brushstrokes heavy and sharp at the tips, revealing a person far less subtle than the poem's tone suggested.
Liu Yuan laughed so hard her cheeks ached.
"Congratulations, it seems Han Zhang Academy has produced yet another talent!"
Qu Zhan sat in a daze, listening to the praises from the crowd. Even his senior brothers abandoned him to flatter He Yunzhao.
Qi Jun scowled and waved the others aside. Such an excellent poem—how could the original and a copy ever be the same?
No one would take it from him! It was his!
Qu Zhan slumped in his seat, head bowed, until a soft sound drew his attention. A pair of black boots appeared before him.
He looked up to see that detestable face smiling down at him.