Pleasure boats cruised along the Qinhuai River. Both sides of the river were brightly lit. Jiangning's city gates were not closed on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival. The liveliness and revelry would last all night and would only disperse the next morning. At this time, the streets of the city were crowded with people. Not long after dinner, people came out of their homes and headed towards the busiest streets with the Confucius Temple and Mingyuan Tower as the center. Flower lanterns were woven on the streets, like a mighty undying fire. Hawkers shouted loudly, dragon and lion dance teams walked by, beating gongs and drums. There were also jugglers gathered on the streets. Faint songs came from the brothels to attract customers. Sometimes, people could be seen dancing inside. People came in and out from time to time. It was very lively.
The slightly famous brothel girls already had a place to go tonight. Occasionally, seats could be found in the hall. From time to time, there would be news of a poet's new work being released. This was one of the highlights of the night. After that, a famous prostitute in a brothel would recite the poem, followed by the news of another good work being released at a poetry meet. The scholars competed with each other, and the beauties decorated their works with a layer of beautiful scarlet. Most people admired the flower lanterns and watched the liveliness. In such an atmosphere, one could feel the lingering charm of the Wei and Jin Dynasties. The elegance of the Tang Dynasty was nothing more than this.
The path of poetry had been flourishing since the Tang Dynasty. Now, after hundreds of years of development, Ning Yi and Elder Qin would say, "It's hard to say who's young and who's young" when they were chatting. That was because their horizons were no longer limited to ordinary situations. In fact, at this time, the higher-ups of the country were also concerned about the fact that poetry was useless. What criteria should be used to select scholars was something that had been repeatedly weighed in the past hundred years. The imperial court sometimes excluded poetry from the criteria for selecting scholars, and sometimes brought it in. It was constantly weighing and uncertain.
However, even if the upper echelons had such considerations, the status of poetry had already reached a glorious position in the grand scheme of things. If you could really write a good poem, you would definitely be respected and courteous no matter where you went. The aura of elegance was the mark of an era. Since the Tang Dynasty, the vast and complex poetry culture had become the foundation of the entire society. It was the brightest part of the development of civilization. Countless famous works were like stars in the sky, setting off the most important part of the Han civilization.
At this time, in Jiangning City, Wuyi Alley and Confucius Temple were the busiest and most prosperous commercial streets. In these places, there were display boards set up by various merchants. Poems from various poetry gatherings were gathered one after another. Occasionally, someone would read aloud, and some merchants would arrange for a girl who knew how to sing. On the streets, in the nearby teahouses and restaurants, in large and small gatherings, scholars would shake their heads and comment on the best poems. They would evaluate whose poem could be sung the longest. Even commoners who had never gone to school could feel the artistic conception in such an atmosphere. They would comment and discuss with the people around them, gaining some elegance.
Pu Yuan's six boats had long left the shore, slowly sailing along the most beautiful and lively section of the river. Even so, it was not closed off. More than ten small boats followed the banks on both sides of the Qinhuai River. Occasionally, people would go to the big boat, and occasionally, they would also carry people or pass on poems. It was like a palace on the water accompanied by little fish. The people on the boat would pass on the excellent works that night, as well as some stories and news. For example, at a banquet, an important person had announced the betrothal of his daughter to someone, or a famous person had praised a young scholar with outstanding poetry.
The poems of Pu Yuan's poetry meet could actually be taken out. A few years ago, they had bought poems from people to deal with the matter of this day, but now there was no need to buy poems. Since they had money, they could always invite a few truly talented people. Although it could not be compared to the most famous Still Water Poetry Meet or Lichuan Poetry Meet, after some lively hype, their reputation would slowly rise.
The Mid-Autumn Festival's poetry meet would mostly have the moon as the topic, but naturally, they would not only write about the moon for the whole night. Some poetry meets had restrictions. If the host was more powerful, everyone would chat happily and come up with a topic. Poetry meets were all literary societies, but there were also those that were more antagonistic or secretly competitive. For example, Still Water and Lichuan. After hearing the topic over there, someone might also say, "Speaking of this, this young man has occasionally come across a poem …" Then, with a calm expression, they would evaluate it with the crowd. On the surface, it was natural that there would not be any competitive intent. For poetry, if it was really of a very high standard, it was indeed hard to tell which was better. But if it was a very big difference, then an excellent work or a clumsy work could still be seen at a glance.
At this time, it was not the most enthusiastic time yet. The poetry meet would continue until the wee hours of the morning. Truly good poems could not be obtained by chance. Most of the scholars would prepare one or two works that they were proud of. If they felt that their talent was not enough and there was no need to embarrass themselves in front of those top figures, then they would release their works early. And the climax where the top scholars would release their trump cards would often only begin at midnight. If they could obtain a good reputation at this time tonight and accumulate a reputation, then their future career would be much smoother.
The night continued to thicken in this atmosphere. The moon was in the middle of the sky, and the atmosphere of the city continued to warm up. In the small courtyard of the Su family, Ning Yi and Xiaochan had already returned to their room. From here, they could already see some of the liveliness, and the wind had started to blow outside.
The hustle and bustle outside could still be faintly heard inside. The master and servant had a small mid-autumn evening party. Because he could not remember the details of the Romance of the Western Wing, and considering that the Romance of the Western Wing taught young mistresses to have affairs, Ning Yi finally told Xiaochan a part of the Journey to the West. After that, Xiaochan also sang two little songs for him, mixed with a young girl's dance that she was not very familiar with. It was said that she saw it at a performance and learned it herself. Su Tan'er did not consider the idea of giving the three maidservants away or pleasing others in the future. Therefore, she let the three maidservants learn to read, do embroidery, and help manage the servants to help her do things. She did not teach them musical instruments, so although they could sing and so on, they could not dance. However, when they danced, they seemed light and cute.
Xiaochan liked to play Gomoku, but after all, Ning Yi was sick, so this kind of mental labor should be avoided. After Xiaochan sang and danced, Ning Yi played a simple magic trick for her. He held a chess piece and it disappeared in his hand, and then he took it out from the other party's hair or pocket. The little girl was surprised, and Ning Yi told her the principle with a smile. As Xiaochan clumsily repeated the process, Ning Yi said, "I'm going to sleep. It's still early. Xiaochan, go to the Pu Yuan Poetry Club to play … Oh yes, the invitation is on the table …"
"I'll go after the son-in-law falls asleep," Xiaochan said with a smile.
"Oh, then how about singing another song for me?"
"Sure, which song does the son-in-law want to listen to?"
In fact, the songs of this time were mostly poems, and the like had a fixed singing method. However, these singing methods had been lost in modern times. In fact, Xiaochan did not know many songs and lyrics. The two of them took a poetry anthology and chose songs by the bedside.
"Yong Yuzi …"
"This Xiaochan doesn't know."
"What about Yi Jiangnan?"
"I can sing this." Xiaochan excitedly prepared to sing.
"Forget it, I don't like this song."
"Then does Nian Nu Jiao son-in-law want to hear it?"
"This song is not bad, uh …" Shuidiao Getou … "
"This one can, this one can."
"Can you sing Shuidiao Getou?" Ning Yi thought for a moment, "Oh, Xiaochan knows quite a lot."
"Is this the only song?"
"Uh … It's another song, and it's also Shuidiao Getou …"
Ning Yi was bored. In fact, he was thinking of Faye Wong's When the Bright Moon Appears. However, Su Shi of this era did not seem to have written this song. He asked Xiaochan to bring a pen and paper. He leaned over the bed and wrote a poem on the Xuan paper for Xiaochan to sing. Xiaochan's eyes sparkled: "Did the son-in-law write it?"
"Oh." Ning Yi thought for a moment. Looking at Xiaochan's expectant face, he shrugged his shoulders, "I wrote it, I gave it to you. "Quickly sing, quickly sing."
Xiaochan looked at the poem for a while and seriously sang according to the rhythm of the poem. The little girl's singing was light and graceful. Although it was not very professional, and because she was too serious, she sang wrong once, but the mood was still very good. After listening to it, Ning Yi smiled: "I'll teach you another way to sing."
"Huh?" Xiaochan blinked her eyes, "Another … Singing method?"
"Well, you sing one line after another. It should be easy to learn … Oh, the main thing is that I want to hear it."
Although she had some doubts, since she could learn something, Xiaochan immediately became happy. She had been with Ning Yi for the longest time, so she had gradually understood that this son-in-law often had some very mysterious and interesting things. Then, under Ning Yi's guidance, in the room, Xiaochan followed the novel melody and learned the first line of the Shuidiao Getou song.
"When the bright moon appears, holding a cup of wine and asking the clear sky …"
"When the bright moon appears, holding a cup of wine and asking the clear sky …"
"I don't know the heavenly palace …"
"I don't know the heavenly palace …"
"Well, not bad … What year is it tonight?"
"Well, not bad … What year is it tonight?"
"…"
"Hee, son-in-law, sing the next line …"
In any case, not long after, Ning Yi still heard some nostalgic modern songs in this era. In the future, if it was possible, he could copy down modern songs and teach Xiao Chan to sing them alone. Or, he could find someone who knew how to compose and play musical instruments to compose similar songs. Anyway, it was fine for him to listen to it privately. It didn't matter if he couldn't bring it out to the public.
"What do you think? Is it good? "
"It's very nice …" Although Ci Pai had a fixed way of singing, these ancient songs had the same origin as many operas. Most of them were single-voice music, and in terms of changes, they were still inferior to modern songs. Furthermore, the rhythm of this song was gentle, and it was not too outrageous for this era. If he sang "Mice Loves Rice" at this time, Xiao Chan would probably be disgusted to death or scared to death. However, at this time, the little girl's gaze when looking at him had already turned into admiration and admiration. "Son-in-law can also compose music …"
Ning Yi laughed and said, "Hum this song by yourself. Don't sing it everywhere. You're just a little girl. If you dare to change the lyrics and singing method, people may say that you're not sensible. Do you understand?"
"Yes." Xiaochan held the piece of rice paper and nodded vigorously.
"Okay … Good night." Ning Yi climbed into the quilt. After a moment, he turned his head and found that Xiaochan was still sitting on the stool by the bed and looking at him, just like how she sat by the bed when he had a cold a few days ago. He waved his hand and said, "I'm fine. Go out." Only then did Xiaochan come to her senses. She quickly stood up and walked out of the door.
"Hey, take the invitation on the table. Otherwise, I won't let you board the ship …"
After shouting for a while, Xiaochan blew out the light, took the invitation, and closed the door. Only then did Ning Yi let out a big yawn. The noise of the city was still faintly heard. The faint light reflected on the window was enough to prove that it was lively outside. He smiled and said, "A night of dancing fish and dragons …" Then, he fell asleep.
Xiaochan stood with her back against the wooden pillar in the room for a while. After confirming that Ning Yi had really fallen asleep, she went downstairs and returned to her room. She lit the lamp and took out a brush, ink, paper, and an inkstone. She leaned on the table and copied the words and sentences that were written on the side of the bed. The little girl's calligraphy was very small, but it had a graceful aura. She read the words that Ning Yi had written a few more times. Then, with a blushing face, she put it into the bottom drawer and hid it, as if she was a thief.
After that, she walked out of the courtyard and saw that there was no one on the road. Then, she trotted to the gate and asked for a carriage and a free coachman from the steward. Then, she happily went to the Pu Garden Poetry Meet to join in the fun.
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