This was why Ye Tian had not gone in ahead of time just now—not because he was afraid Lin Wan and Zhao Qinghuan wouldn't be able to find him, but because without an invitation, getting in at all was simply impossible.
After all, with so many literati in Luoyang City all wanting to enter the Mingyue Pavilion Poetry Gathering, no matter how vast the pavilion was, it couldn't possibly accommodate everyone. Entry was strictly determined by invitation.
"It's so big in here!"
The moment Ye Tian stepped inside, he was struck by the opulent and magnificent decor.
He had initially expected an ordinary tavern, but upon entering, he discovered that the space was astonishingly vast, easily holding two to three hundred people with plenty of room to spare.
"That goes without saying. Mingyue Pavilion is the most prestigious sacred ground for literature in the entire Da Qian. Legend has it that when it was built, all the craftsmen were sent directly from the imperial palace," Lin Wan said approvingly.
Craftsmen from the palace?
Hearing this, Ye Tian's interest was piqued, and he asked curiously, "By the way, you both keep calling Mingyue Pavilion a sacred ground of literature, but who is the proprietor behind it? Is it His Majesty? Or some Great Confucian Scholar, or a high-ranking official from the Imperial Academy?"
"This... I'm not sure either. Ever since Mingyue Pavilion was established, its owner has been an enigma, completely unknown to anyone," Lin Wan replied, shaking her head.
In fact, she had been obsessed with this question for a long time during her childhood, but unfortunately, after asking many people, she had never received a definitive answer.
Zhao Qinghuan immediately chimed in, "Wan'er is right. The owner of Mingyue Pavilion is indeed very mysterious. I'm afraid only those truly prominent figures know the truth."
Hearing this answer, Ye Tian was somewhat surprised; he hadn't expected Mingyue Pavilion to shroud itself in such mystery.
"Alright, our seats are right over here. Please take a seat, Young Master."
At that moment, Lin Wan pointed to an empty table in front of them.
Their invitations specified their seating arrangements, and each invitation allowed the bearer to bring three guests to the poetry gathering, which was why Lin Wan had brought both Zhao Qinghuan and Ye Tian along.
Actually, Zhao Qinghuan had simply found it too much trouble; given her previous reputation as a talented woman, Mingyue Pavilion would have readily issued her an invitation of her own.
In fact, a year ago, Mingyue Pavilion had sent her invitations every single time, but back then she had been in low spirits and entirely in no mood to consider such things. Naturally, Mingyue Pavilion had subsequently given her invitation to someone else.
"Do we have to pay for anything here today?" Ye Tian asked curiously, looking at the pastries and fruits on the table.
Though he didn't know the prices of these pastries and fruits, he knew without asking that a spread like this would cost at least a few dozen taels of silver.
If all of this was complimentary, just hosting a single poetry gathering would cost Mingyue Pavilion thousands of taels in capital alone.
"Of course it's free, but that's only because of the poetry gathering. If you were to come here for dining and entertainment on an ordinary day, it would cost at least several dozen taels a time," Lin Wan replied.
"I see!" Ye Tian nodded, understanding why Mingyue Pavilion was being so generous.
So they were already making a fortune on regular days—no wonder they were throwing money around now.
...
While the three of them were chatting, the crowd inside Mingyue Pavilion swelled.
At last, as a white-haired old man appeared on the second floor, the previously bustling and noisy Mingyue Pavilion instantly quieted down.
Though Ye Tian had no idea what was happening, since everyone else had stopped talking, he naturally shut his mouth as well and looked up at the old man on the second floor.
"This is Great Confucian Scholar Liu, the person in charge and lead judge of today's Mingyue Pavilion Poetry Gathering!" Zhao Qinghuan whispered to explain to Ye Tian.
Simultaneously, Great Confucian Scholar Liu took the initiative to speak. "May I have everyone's attention, please. Today is the Mid-Autumn Festival, so the theme for today's poetry gathering is naturally the Mid-Autumn Festival. Timing starts now, and you will have the span of one stick of incense. I hope you will all produce fine works!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Mingyue Pavilion attendants immediately appeared, carrying brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones, placing a set on every table with guests so that everyone could compose their poetry.
The table shared by Ye Tian, Lin Wan, and Zhao Qinghuan was no exception.
"Young Master, Big Sister and I have already decided to submit your previous two poems. Even though *Inscribed at the South Village Residence* might not be eligible for today's poetry gathering rankings, when the poetry rankings for August come out later, it will definitely make the top three. As for *Chang'e*, it has a very high chance of taking first place tonight," Lin Wan said, picking up her brush immediately.
Her face was brimming with pride and delight. Although neither *Chang'e* nor *Inscribed at the South Village Residence* were her own works, she had long since regarded Ye Tian as a kindred spirit and close friend. In her heart, as long as Ye Tian achieved a great score, she shared in the glory.
Beside her, though Zhao Qinghuan had remained silent, the smile on her face had never faded—manifestly holding the exact same sentiment in her heart.
"Do as you see fit. However, since today is the Mid-Autumn Festival, I happen to have a brand-new poem in mind, just to join in the fun!" Ye Tian said, also picking up a brush.
Hearing this, Zhao Qinghuan and Lin Wan were startled at first, and then expressions of eager anticipation bloomed on their faces.
"Young Master, do you have a new Mid-Autumn poem?" Lin Wan asked incredulously.
Though Zhao Qinghuan said nothing, her expression gained a hint of undisguised admiration.
"Mn." Ye Tian nodded.
In the current situation, there was naturally no need for him to hide anything.
Wasn't it just a Mid-Autumn poem?
To others, the difficulty might be unknown, but to him, it was a total walk in the park!
Initially, Ye Tian had thought of writing Wang Jian's poem *Looking at the Moon on the Fifteenth Night and Sending It to Official Du*, but just then he noticed lightning flashing and thunder rolling outside the window, as if a rainstorm was suddenly breaking out.
Under these circumstances, he naturally changed his original piece.
Thus, under the watchful gazes of Lin Wan and Zhao Qinghuan, he set brush to paper and directly composed the ci poem *Yi Jian Mei: Mid-Autumn Night Without a Moon*:
"Recalling that bright Mid-Autumn, I immersed myself in the fragrant cluster of sweet osmanthus. Flowers reflected in the wine cup, the moon rippling in the wine cup. Tonight we raise our cups together upstairs, yet clouds dampen the gauze windows, rain dampens the gauze windows.
I yearn to ride the wind and question the Creator of Things, yet the heavenly road is impassable, and messages are hard to transmit. The hall is filled only with the red flames of candle wicks, let us drain our cups in leisure, let us sing our songs to the end."
Translated into vernacular Chinese, its meaning was:
Recalling that clear Mid-Autumn Festival, I was situated among the fragrant osmanthus groves. Flower shadows cast into the wine cup, moonlight swaying within the wine cup. Tonight we are raising our cups to await the moonlight upstairs once more, yet dark clouds have soaked the gauze windows, and rain has beaten against the gauze windows.
I desperately want to ride the wind up to the heavens to question the Heavenly Emperor, but the heavenly road cannot be reached, and if I wish to send a message, it is impossible to deliver. The entire hall holds only tall, flickering candles, casting a crimson glow over the banquet. Let us slowly drink our cups of wine, let us slowly sing our songs until the very end.
This ci poem had originally been composed by Xin Qiji on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, expressing his bitter resentment over his grand ambitions going unfulfilled and his talents unrecognized.
Now, borrowed by Ye Tian, it coincidentally mirrored the original owner's recent plight.
...