A year later, it was once again the Qingming Festival. Looking at the peach blossoms outside his window, Cui Hu once again thought of the beloved woman he missed day and night. He remembered this exact day last year, her flower-like smile and her eyes as clear as autumn water.
Unable to control his emotions any longer, he pushed open his door and ran straight toward the peach grove in his memory.
Although only a year had passed, to him it felt as long as a lifetime. Clearly, she was right there, yet he had not dared to approach and disturb her; clearly, all he had to do was walk over to see her, yet he had acted like a coward, terrified that once he saw her, he would not be able to bear leaving.
So his thoughts were simple now: even if he did nothing else, just to ask for a bowl of water and catch another glimpse of her would be enough.
Yet what he never expected was that when he found the peach grove and the farmhouse from that day, the front gate was locked and the house was completely empty. It was at that moment that Cui Hu felt a hollow ache in his chest, as if he had lost something of immeasurable value.
Standing outside the door, Cui Hu had no idea what to do next.
By the time the sky grew dark and still no one had returned, he could only walk sadly toward the wall, pick up a stone, and inscribe a poem upon it: *"On this very day last year, within this very door, faces and peach blossoms vied in ruddy bloom. I know not where the face has gone; the peach blossoms still smile in the vernal breeze."*
When Ye Tian finished telling the story, Lin Wan and Zhao Qinghuan both let out cries of astonishment, deeply moved by the poem.
Compared to the "Chang'e" from yesterday, this poem was clearly superior. Coupled with such a beautiful and touching story, its impact was magnified manifold.
"Young Master, this poem is truly wonderful. I love it so much."
"I love it too! I feel that once this poem and story spread, the first place for the Mid-Autumn Festival competition this year will surely go to someone unexpected."
"Indeed, indeed! With the backing of the story, this poem definitely has a chance to claim the top spot on the Bright Moon Pavilion's August Poetry Rankings!"
"Young Master, may we share this poem with others? Don't worry, we will certainly tell everyone that both the poem and the story are your creation."
Facing such a masterpiece, Lin Wan and Zhao Qinghuan were naturally stingless with their praise, showering him with compliments of all kinds.
"Go ahead and share it, no problem. But do you want to hear the rest of the story?" Ye Tian asked with a smile.
After pondering through the night, and observing the attitudes of Zhao Qinghuan and Lin Wan toward him now, he had come to a realization. In an era that valued martial prowess over literature, why was he still racking his brains over how to make money? Naturally, he should rely on poetry and prose!
Just think of the Song Dynasty of the past: scholars who entered official service could publicly curse the Emperor and receive nothing worse than a demotion. For the literati of the Song Dynasty, being demoted was sometimes not a humiliation at all, but rather a badge of honor and distinction, and before long they would invariably be reappointed.
Perhaps Da Qian had its differences from the Song Dynasty, but one thing was certain: as long as his literary reputation was high enough, even the Emperor would not casually punish him. After all, he wasn't rebelling—why would the Emperor bother making trouble for him?
"We want to hear it, of course we do!"
Lin Wan and Zhao Qinghuan snapped back to attention. They had been so overwhelmed with excitement upon hearing the poem that they had forgotten the story wasn't over yet.
Seeing the two of them looking at him with eager anticipation, Ye Tian didn't drag it out and continued: "After Cui Hu left, his heart remained terribly unsettled, so he returned to the place for several days running. But he never found the woman back.
Until one day.
When he arrived, the door of the farmhouse was finally open, but as he drew closer, he saw a white funeral lantern hanging at the entrance. Stepping inside, he no longer saw the woman from before; instead, he found a middle-aged couple in the courtyard, heads bowed as they wiped away tears.
When the man saw Cui Hu, he instantly flew into a rage and shouted, 'Are you Cui Hu? The murderer who killed my daughter?'
Cui Hu was shocked, but hurriedly explained, 'I am Cui Hu, but I never killed anyone.'
Fortunately, the woman at the side stepped in just in time to stop her husband, preventing Cui Hu from being struck, and incidentally explained the reason for all this.
It turned out that the young woman was named Jiangniang, and she was their daughter. Because her health had been deteriorating lately, as if her soul had drifted away, they had taken her to stay temporarily at a relative's home for a few days.
Who could have imagined that the moment she returned, she saw the poem on the wall and believed she had missed her chance, never to meet her beloved again? Overcome by grief, she had fainted on the spot, and by just now, she had completely stopped breathing.
Hearing this, Cui Hu was consumed with remorse and began to weep, hurriedly explaining that it had not been his intention, and that he should never have left that poem. Heartbroken, Cui Hu rushed toward the young woman's corpse inside the house, crying out, 'Jiangniang, Cui Hu has come! I shall go with you now!'
Fortunately, Jiangniang's father grabbed him in time to prevent a catastrophe. But right at that moment, Jiangniang, who had already ceased breathing, slowly opened her eyes and came back to life. Gazing at the beloved she had waited for so long, she shed tears of happiness.
From that day on, the two were formally wed and lived a happy life. And with Jiangniang's support, Cui Hu successfully passed the provincial examinations and became Successful in the Imperial Examination!"
Ye Tian finished speaking, picked up his teacup, and took a sip. Another thought flashed through his mind: the tea of Da Qian was also of exceptional quality; it seemed he wouldn't need to worry about making money through tea leaves either.
"Well, how do you two like this story?" Ye Tian asked with a smile.
"We love it."
The two of them nodded happily, clearly fond of the tale—especially since it came with a legendary poem passed down through the ages.
"Young Master's mind is as swift as lightning. If you take the provincial examinations in the future, you will surely pass at the very top!" Zhao Qinghuan praised further.
"That's right! Young Master, if you take the imperial examinations, you are bound to win the title of top scholar!" Lin Wan paused mid-sentence, then immediately added with excitement, "Young Master, you are already a Little Three Premiers, aren't you? If you can win the top scholar position as well, wouldn't that give you a chance to achieve the rare feat of winning all six top honors consecutively?"
Winning all six top honors consecutively?
You certainly dare to dream!
Ye Tian was somewhat surprised by this. He knew Lin Wan said it because she truly believed in him.
Yet while "Little Three Premiers" had appeared plenty of times throughout history, "winning all six top honors consecutively" had been achieved by only two men across thousands of years of history—one was Huang Guan of the Ming dynasty, and the other was Qian Qi of the Qing dynasty!
Even with his photographic memory, achieving six consecutive top placements was simply too difficult. Setting aside the six honors, he wasn't even guaranteed to place as the top scholar.
"Then I'll borrow your auspicious words." Ye Tian smiled.
Lin Wan meant well, after all, so he would take it as a blessing.
Besides, he really had considered the imperial examinations yesterday. First of all, since he was already a Xiucai, as long as he passed the provincial examinations, even if he didn't become a high-ranking official in the future, a life free from worries about food and clothing was guaranteed!
Furthermore, regardless of the dynasty—whether scholars, farmers, artisans, or merchants—scholars always came first.
It was just that the provincial examinations were held once every three years; since he missed this session, he would simply have to wait two years for the next. Until then, he still needed to figure out how to make money and survive!