Chapter Forty-Eight: Moonlight Intoxicates the Distant Traveler

The boat drifted slowly along the river, and Liu Ping did not notice the figure standing by the shore, watching him in silence.

Beside her stood a little girl, tugging at her hand and asking, “Master, master, I think I just saw Uncle. Aren’t we going to say hello?”

Drunken Red Dust shook her head and replied, “There’s no need for greetings. Let’s go back.”

The girl protested, “Why? Master, why are we returning so soon this year?”

“Guo’er has been waiting at home.” Drunken Red Dust’s words belied her true feelings.

“But isn’t Guo’er often alone at home?”

“I said we’re leaving, so let’s go. Don’t say any more.”

Ye’er couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Master, don’t you miss Uncle very much?”

“Hmph, who would want to see him?” Drunken Red Dust snorted and turned to leave.

The two little girls exchanged a glance, both seeing confusion in each other’s eyes. They watched Drunken Red Dust’s retreating figure and hurried to catch up.

As they walked farther away, Drunken Red Dust still couldn’t help but look back once more.

But she was not looking at Liu Ping, rather at the handsome young man beside him with whom he was close. She frowned slightly.

She had realized earlier that this was clearly a woman. A thought struck her, and she cast a divination, only to find she could not discern the woman’s companion. At once she understood: the one who could not be divined must be Liu Ping.

To think that he, while studying at the Tianqi Academy, had a beauty hidden away, enjoying the fragrance of red sleeves and the comfort of companionship—that was one thing. But the most galling part was that he hadn’t come to see her for such a long time.

Inevitably, her mood soured, but upon reflection, wasn’t this all her own choice?

If one wishes to reach the highest state of transcending emotion, one must disregard such feelings. Yet this was easier said than done; the myriad tangled threads of sentiment endlessly disturbed her heart.

“So this is the tribulation of love?” Drunken Red Dust sighed softly. “Then… must I sever it?”

Closing her eyes for a moment, she shook her head and slowly vanished into the night.

Suddenly, Liu Ping turned his head sharply, glancing around. He had felt a pair of eyes watching him from the darkness for a long while. But now the feeling was gone—was it just his imagination?

“No, it shouldn’t be an illusion. Then what was it?” He grew a bit vexed, troubled by the thought.

Meanwhile, the other scholars in the boat were even more distressed.

Their heads spun with Liu Ping’s questions, impossible to answer yet impossible to dismiss. The more they pondered, the more answers they found—only for new questions to spring forth, each answer overturned as soon as it appeared.

It was as if they wandered a vast labyrinth. Each time they thought they had found a way out, it proved to be just another dead end.

At last, someone cried out in despair, “I can’t figure it out, truly can’t! I give up!”

They simply abandoned the effort.

Liu Ping smiled and said, “It’s not that these questions are meaningless, but their significance is quite limited. There’s no need to torment yourselves over them.”

Zhu Yingtai, unable to contain her admiration, exclaimed, “Fengchang, you’re truly remarkable. Never again belittle yourself or say you’re not as good as I am. If you do, I’ll never speak to you again!”

“All right, all right, I won’t say it.” Even telling the truth wasn’t permitted with Zhu Yingtai; there was no reasoning with her.

Lu Liang, the dark-faced scholar, looked somewhat disgruntled, but he had to admit that, in terms of reasoning, he was indeed no match for Liu Ping.

Earlier, they had shared wine and laughter, arguing and debating, with Lu Liang standing out from the crowd, proud of his unique insights. Yet he had never considered the questions beyond the original problem.

Liu Ping, on the other hand, could instantly draw out related issues, a talent worthy of admiration.

Lu Liang could not help but sigh, rising to his feet. “Brother Liu, I toast you. Let us encourage each other. Next spring, at the imperial examinations, let us compete again!”

Seeing his sincerity, Liu Ping smiled and replied, “Of course. Brother Lu is a true gentleman. If we can be friends, nothing could be better. I drink to you as well!”

Lu Da muttered nearby, “If only you’d both done this sooner…”

Lu Liang shot him a glare, and he fell silent.

After several rounds of wine, everyone was a little tipsy. Only Liu Ping, with his high tolerance, remained clear-headed, though he hadn’t bothered to use spiritual power to control his drunkenness, so he was somewhat flushed.

The wealthy man who had hired the pleasure boat, Jiang Yu, now tapped his chopsticks against a plate and burst into song:

“With wine and flowers, what more could one ask?
To live, one must sing loudly.
Wildness befits a hero.
Why all this sorrow?
Simply for lack of a true beauty.
Dreams of brothels, one after another,
When does one wake, and when do dreams begin?
Who in the world knows a sage’s grief?
Still, the fairest pity only talent!
How many times, drunk as mud before the cup,
Have I lived such days in my life?”

The poem’s early lines, though unrhymed, brimmed with unrestrained vigor, a rough and direct energy. As it continued, it grew more poignant, moving the listeners to applaud, especially at those lines:

“Why all this sorrow?
Simply for lack of a true beauty.
Dreams of brothels, one after another,
When does one wake, and when do dreams begin?
Who in the world knows a sage’s grief?
Still, the fairest pity only talent!
How many times, drunk as mud before the cup,
Have I lived such days in my life?”

Yet the poem was too decadent for some. Lu Liang shook his head with a laugh, “Brother Jiang, you’re drunk. If the teachers heard this poem, they’d be furious!”

Jiang Yu laughed. “What does it matter on a fine day? Brother Lu, I toast you. How about a poem from you?”

Lu Liang downed his cup in one gulp, saying, “Very well!” Then, pointing at Jiang Yu, he retorted without courtesy,

“Life is never free of storm and wave;
Drunk as mud is not true valor!”

Jiang Yu did not take offense; instead, he gave a wry smile. “Brother Lu, you’re right. Drunk as mud is not true valor!”

Lu Liang continued, pointing out the window:

“One step to the golden hall,
Touring the city, laughing at the hundred blossoms!”

One step to the golden hall, touring the city and laughing at the hundred blossoms—those lines pierced the hearts of every student present. Scholar, top candidate, or even just passing the exams and earning the title of a successful examinee, that would be enough! Though Tianqi Academy was renowned, very few among them would ever reach the higher degrees. After all, only thirty-three could become the highest-ranking scholars in the land. Out of all the candidates across the country, how many could make it through the final selection?

Yet these words did not bring discouragement. Instead, they set hearts ablaze with hope and longing—for such glory would be worth all these years of bitter study. The crowd cried, “Well said, Brother Lu!”

Lu Liang smiled. “Just ramblings.” He raised his cup to Liu Ping and asked, “Brother Liu, will you compose a poem for us?”

At this, everyone clamored, “Yes, please! Brother Liu, let us see your skill!”

Even Zhu Yingtai’s eyes sparkled as she watched Liu Ping, full of anticipation.

Liu Ping smiled wryly and shook his head. If it were just like the previous poems, he could easily improvise a few, but to create a truly memorable ‘Green Poem’—one worthy of being remembered through the ages—that was not so easily done. Still, this was only a drinking party; to insist on such a poem would be pretentious.

“Let me think.”

He took another cup of wine, swaying slightly. For some reason, thoughts of Drunken Red Dust came to him, and he could not help but recite loudly:

“Moonlight intoxicates the distant traveler,
Mountain flowers bloom, ready to burn.”

The scholars exchanged glances, wondering who Liu Ping was referring to.

“The wild spring wind slays the heart;
One day feels like three years.”

At these lines, their expressions grew complicated, as if deeply moved.

“In high spirits, too bashful to meet;
Behind closed doors, she does not appear.”

“Dreams return to before the spring day,
Laughter and words, impossible to forget.”

As the poem ended, the crowd fell silent. Even the courtesans watched Liu Ping with curiosity, softly murmuring the lines, their faces growing wistful. One of them, remembering someone, could not help but cover her lovely face with her sleeve, tears streaming down.

Lu Liang was the first to break the silence. “Brother Liu, you are truly a romantic—how we envy you!”

The other scholars bowed their heads, murmuring, “Ha ha, truly romantic. Brother Jiang is wild, Brother Lu is proud, but Brother Liu is truly romantic—it’s wonderful!”

Jiang Yu agreed, “Indeed.”

Zhu Yingtai, however, furrowed her brow slightly, softly reciting the lines. Though not the best of poems, its lingering emotion was deeply moving, stirring her heart. She could not help but lose herself in thought—how wonderful it would be to have such a love, lasting and entwined forever.

Outside, along the riverside path, Hua’er recited proudly,

“Moonlight intoxicates the distant traveler,
Mountain flowers bloom, ready to burn.
The wild spring wind slays the heart;
One day feels like three years.
In high spirits, too bashful to meet;
Behind closed doors, she does not appear.
Dreams return to before the spring day,
Laughter and words, impossible to forget.

“Master, master, Uncle was talking about you! I told you we should have stayed—listened a bit longer, watched a bit more. Was I wrong?”

“Hmph, it’s nothing,” Drunken Red Dust replied coolly.

“But master, you’re still smiling.”

Drunken Red Dust shook her head. “When did you see me smile?”

Hua’er said, “Master, you’re so tsundere!”

“Tsundere? What does that mean?” Drunken Red Dust frowned. It didn’t sound like a compliment.

Hua’er replied, “It’s a new word Uncle taught me. I’m not telling you what it means!”

“Don’t you dare!”

Hua’er blinked innocently. “If you really want to know, master, you’ll have to ask Uncle yourself.”