Chapter Twenty-Three: The Evaluation

“Master Chen, stop keeping us in suspense and tell us already—what is the challenge? Look, everyone’s nearly beside themselves with anticipation.” At that moment, a gentleman dressed in splendid garments spoke out in a clear voice.

“I’d say it’s you who’s most impatient,” Master Chen replied with a good-natured scolding, then continued, “Our West Lake in Hangzhou is truly a paradise on earth. Since we happen to be gathered on its banks today, why not take inspiration from the lake itself? Compose a poem about West Lake—what do you all think?”

The announcement of the topic took everyone by surprise—not because it was difficult, but because it was too simple, lacking novelty. From ancient times countless masterpieces about West Lake had been passed down. If the challenge had been something obscure, at least it might have caused some headaches; previous literary gatherings had always favored such topics. Why the sudden change in tradition this year? Many found it puzzling.

Master Chen went on, “This year’s gathering is different from those before. The person who chose the topic is Lady Hongying. Whoever takes first place will not only receive one hundred taels of silver, but also the chance to meet Lady Hongying herself.”

No sooner had Master Chen finished speaking than the crowd erupted into lively debate; faces lit up with keen interest. In truth, the reason so many people had come today was because of Lady Hongying. They’d heard rumors she might attend, though the exact reason was unclear.

“So it’s because of her! No wonder there’s such a crowd this year,” Li Zhihe exclaimed, finally understanding.

“Brother Li, who exactly is Lady Hongying?” Yi’an asked curiously.

What kind of woman could inspire so many admirers?

“Lady Hongying is the leading courtesan at Drunken Flower Pavilion in the city. Though she lives amidst the dust of the world, she’s renowned for her virtue—she sells her art, not her body. She is skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Since time immemorial, scholars have loved beautiful women. Not just them—even a rough fellow like me was moved when I saw her. Though I’ve only glimpsed her once, most of what I know is hearsay,” Li Zhihe admitted, his expression touched.

Yi’an frowned slightly, though he kept his thoughts to himself. There was something odd about this. Had Lady Hongying truly bewitched so many with her beauty, or was there more beneath the surface?

Ink, brushes, paper, and inkstones had all been prepared in advance; guests need not bring their own.

Yi’an considered a moment, then lifted his brush to begin writing his answer.

“Brother Yi, sweep aside all those charlatans and pretenders!” Li Zhihe urged, unable to keep silent as he saw Yi’an poised to write.

---

His words made those nearby bristle with displeasure, but remembering Li Zhihe’s status, they held their tongues.

What they didn’t know was that, even without the connection to Wei Liang, these bookish scholars would still be powerless against him.

Yi’an gave a wry smile. He longed to ask: must you sow so much animosity?

As if sensing Yi’an’s thoughts, Li Zhihe smiled.

Indeed, he’d done it on purpose, successfully provoking the hostility of the assembled scholars. Without this, where would Yi’an’s sense of urgency come from?

The teacher had long since noticed that Yi’an’s mind was elsewhere—he read as if fulfilling a duty, without desire or ambition.

A little modesty was good, but excessive calmness was not fitting for one so young.

And so, Wei Liang instructed Li Zhihe to stir things up at the right moment, to add a bit of excitement for Yi’an.

It could be said that Wei Liang had put much thought into Yi’an’s well-being.

About half an hour later, He Ting called out, “Gentlemen, please put down your brushes. Time is up. Master Chen and the judges will now review your work.”

Soon after, attendants collected everyone’s submissions. Yi’an signed his name and handed his in.

He Ting first distributed all the works to the other judges, apart from Master Chen, so they could sift through them, selecting the better pieces and discarding the mediocre and poor, then giving the best to Master Chen.

Hangzhou boasted many talented scholars, and hundreds were present, but in the end, fewer than twenty pieces remained—a pitifully small number.

Though elderly, Master Chen possessed true learning; after all, he had earned his position through many trials.

Taking the remaining entries, he read the first through, then shook his head and set it aside. He picked up the second, but again, none satisfied him.

Watching the judging process, everyone below held their breath in suspense.

---

Until the results were announced, no one knew whether they had been eliminated.

“Brother Wenju, in your opinion, who has the best chance of winning this time?”

“It’s hard to say. Even the scholars from Jingyuan Academy are here, and the previous champions—Young Master Xu, Young Master Song, Young Master Qin—are all present. This will be quite the contest.”

“Ah, but who will be fortunate enough to catch Lady Hongying’s eye? Even just a single meeting would leave me content.”

Jingyuan Academy was known as Hangzhou’s foremost school, but it was a noble institution; even wealthy families balked at the tuition.

Yet its reputation was well-earned. Many self-proclaimed talents had challenged its students, only to suffer humiliating defeats.

Jingyuan’s scholars had always looked down on this literary gathering and never participated. But this time, hearing Lady Hongying would attend, they came along.

Master Chen, upon reaching the sixth entry, finally showed a hint of praise. “Xu Zhirong shows some real talent—far better than the previous ones. Yet, it still feels lacking in atmosphere and depth.”

He set Xu Zhirong’s work aside, then selected a few more. When he reached the second-to-last piece, he glanced at it and his eyes lit up.

“Brother Zhaolin, look at this work.”

Brother Zhaolin, one of the judges, was in his fifties.

Wang Zhaolin took the entry. If Master Chen could be so impressed, it must be a rare masterpiece. He examined it carefully, feeling himself immersed in its mood, and could not help but praise it.

This was surely a work that could stand alongside those of the sages, though Wang Zhaolin dared not say so aloud—the reputation was too great, and easily invited criticism.