Chapter 74: Poetry through the Ages.

"Sir, you have a broad mind and are well-versed in ancient and modern knowledge." Emperor Qing used his eyes to signal the princess not to go too far, then he turned to Zhuang Mohan and said softly, "Please don't mind what I said just now."

Zhuang Mohan nodded, not caring, but his eyes gradually became empty.

"The sky is high and the wind is strong, the monkeys are howling, the sand is clear and the white birds are flying back. The endless fallen leaves are rustling down, and the endless Yangtze River is rolling in." With a sigh, Zhuang Mohan said softly, "What a good poem! I can't compare to it!"

The corners of the eldest princess' mouth slightly raised, her expression undisguised joy, and she asked, "Sir, are you admitting defeat now?"

Zhuang Mohan shook his head and sighed again: "It's a good poem, but it's a pity that it wasn't written by Fan Xian!"

As soon as these words came out, everyone in the room was shocked! Even Fan Xian was slightly stunned, but he understood Zhuang Mohan's intention. He raised his glass and drank the wine, watching Zhuang Mohan's performance with a smile, thinking: "It seems that he is going to start with my literary reputation. Not bad, it's a good plan."

Only the eldest princess' expression remained unchanged. She asked softly, "Sir, do you mean that Fan Xian plagiarized?"

Even Emperor Qing and the Empress standing by were slightly surprised, but because they were so shrewd, they did not show any sign of it and just waited quietly for what was to come.

"Yes." Zhuang Mohan gave an affirmative answer, with a slightly contradictory tone and mixed emotions, and then said: "The last four lines of this poem are quatrains, but they are full of old age. The 100-year illness was written by my master in his twilight years. How could it be written by someone as young as Mr. Fan? This poem was written by my master in the past to comfort himself, but Mr. Fan forced himself to express this sorrow. I'm afraid this act of seeking fame is not appropriate, right?"

Upon hearing this, Fan Xian, who was off the field, looked at Zhuang Mohan deeply and sneered.

"Originally, I was hesitant about whether to disclose this matter, but after thinking it over again and again, I think this can be regarded as helping Master Fan to return to the right path. I have no ill intentions, and I hope Master Fan will reflect on himself." Zhuang Mohan spoke to Fan Xian sincerely, but there was a struggle in his expression. Now that things had come to this, he could only suppress his temper and force himself to finish.

"Fan Xian." Seeing Fan Xian still drinking by himself, Emperor Qing called out. All the officials pricked up their ears curiously, wanting to know how the situation would develop next.

"Tell me, what do you think about it?" Emperor Qing asked softly.

Fan Xian didn't even look at the stage, he just asked Zhuang Mohan: "Do you have a teacher named Du?"

"My teacher's last name is not Du." Zhuang Mohan replied.

Hehe, a light laugh was heard. It turned out that Li An on the side couldn't help but laughed out loud.

Strictly speaking, Zhuang Mohan was right. Fan Xian was indeed a plagiarist. The author of the poem was Du Fu, known as the Sage of Poetry. Seeing this, Fan Xian smiled knowingly and toasted Li An with a glass of wine from a distance. This action also made everyone in the room curious about Li An.

Seeing that everyone didn't believe him, Zhuang Mohan finally opened the scroll in his hand, "This is the proof!"

Everyone looked at the scroll, and saw that it was written with this poem, the handwriting was elegant and lively, yet simple and majestic. The scroll was simple and old, and it was obvious that it was quite old.

The ministers were discussing the matter, and public opinion was leaning towards Zhuang Mohan. At this time, a man rushed out from the table and spoke loudly.

"Your Majesty, Fan Xian is extremely shameless, deceiving the world and stealing fame. He has truly brought shame upon our Qing Nation. Your Majesty, please punish him and expel him from Kyoto!"

It was Guo Baokun who spoke, and this action made everyone in the room look ugly, including Guo Baokun's father, the Minister of Rites Guo Youzhi.

Emperor Qing frowned when he heard this, his eyes became stern, he did not like Zhuang Mohan, but at this moment he hated the man lying on the stage even more, he said coldly: "My Qing country has the final law, but if you want to punish someone, you have to have evidence." "Little Lord Fan, why don't you write another poem and let Mr. Zhuang comment on it. Even if it is not done well, no one will blame you." The Queen beside Emperor Qing spoke up to relieve the situation and ease the atmosphere.

"Thank you, Queen." Fan Xian said respectfully, then turned to Guo Baokun and said sarcastically, "The matter has not yet been concluded. Why are you so happy, Mr. Guo, as if I really plagiarized it?"

"This..." Guo Baokun said stubbornly, "I am not happy at all, I am indignant!"

No one in the room was stupid, and gradually they came to their senses.

Fan Xian laughed at himself and said, "I just know some pedantic words, which is not worth mentioning. Mr. Zhuang, on the other hand, is copying poems for his teacher. I wonder what his teacher would think if he knew about this?"

Without waiting for anyone to say anything, Fan Xian asked, "Mr. Zhuang, did your master write many poems?"

"It's just the one just now." Zhuang Mohan said in a deep voice. For some reason, he had a bad premonition in his heart.

Fan Xian nodded, raised his glass and poured himself a glass of wine, saying as he drank: "Singing to the wine, how long is life? It is like the morning dew, and the past days are full of suffering. Your green collar, my heart is lingering. But for your sake, I have been pondering until now. I have guests, playing the harp and blowing the flute. It is as bright as the moon, when can it be picked? The whole world is at peace."

After this poem, the whole place was silent. No one paid attention to what happened just now. They were all immersed in this short song. After a moment, everyone was shocked and cheered together!

Even Emperor Qing was slightly intoxicated. He squinted his eyes and looked at Fan Xian with satisfaction. He turned his head to look at Zhuang Mohan and asked, "Mr. Zhuang, what do you think of this poem? Hahaha."

Zhuang Mohan did not answer Emperor Qing, but remained silent, unable to tell whether he was happy or angry. In his life, he had been respected by scholars all over the world, wrote countless articles and made many policy proposals, and was also a man of good moral character, cultivating and supporting many younger generations. But now it seemed that he would eventually be burdened by this family relationship, and now his reputation was ruined.

"Mr. Fan, if you want to write a poem, let me copy it down for you!" Eunuch Hou said with a happy face.

The eunuch beside him had already brought a low table, placed writing brush, ink, paper and inkstone on it, and started transcribing the poem he had just written.

Fan Xian disliked the slowness of the wine glass, so he picked up the large wine jar on the unknown minister's table and drank it all at once. He did not stop, and continued to speak, writing a poem every two steps and a poem every three steps.

"Have you not seen that the water of the Yellow River comes from the sky, rushes to the sea and never returns. Have you not seen the white hair in the mirror in the hall, which was black in the morning and turned white in the evening."

"When will the spring flowers and autumn moon end? How much do I know about the past? How much sorrow can you have? It is like a river of spring water flowing eastward."

"I don't know what year it is in the palace of heaven. I want to ride the wind back, but I am afraid of the jade buildings and jade palaces."

Fan Xian was still going on. Emperor Qing on the high platform had a puzzled look on his face, while the eldest princess listened expressionlessly. The second prince and the crown prince were shocked, but Zhuang Mohan was the only one who looked delighted. He nodded his old head from time to time and murmured Fan Xian's poems.

Li An looked at Fan Xian, who was full of vigor and vitality, reciting familiar poems one after another. He couldn't help but drink a few more glasses of wine, and sighed that Fan Xian's memory was digitized, and his memory was amazing! If I were to do it myself, I really couldn't do it!
"Sir, is this the interesting thing you mentioned? It's really wonderful!" Shisan Wang said excitedly behind him.

Li An picked up a peanut and threw it into his mouth, chewing it, and said happily: "Isn't it wonderful?" Of course it is wonderful, the treasure of Chinese civilization, it would be strange if it is not wonderful. Li An was eating melon for his own amusement, but he didn't expect that the melon would be eaten on his body later.

(End of this chapter)