Chapter 18: Reunion

“Yes, yes, Chief Inspector, let’s hear a poem from you!”
“Hurry, hurry, Second Master Xue is composing! Let me grind the ink for you!”
“Come, come, I’ll lay out the paper for you, Brother Xue.” A few of Xue Ao’s mischievous friends, eager to see him make a fool of himself, were even more delighted, taking over the show by the round table and preparing everything for him, just waiting for him to write.

Everyone was there for the spectacle, laughing and heckling loudly.
“Ha ha, let us witness the Chief Inspector’s talent!”
“Exactly, Second Master Xue is a straightforward man—everyone’s prepared pen and ink for him, he can’t disappoint us now, can he?”
“Ha ha ha…”

Liu Chuanqu listened to everyone’s laughter, joining in, her heart fluttering with an inexplicable joy, itching to applaud. She had heard that the Xue brothers were each skilled, one in literature, the other in martial arts. Although Xue Ao had some literary talent, it was said to be mediocre; usually, he won people over with his fists. Today, in front of everyone, she was curious to see how he would manage this stage.

“Ao Brother, don’t be modest, come on.” Liu Chuanqu pushed him toward the desk, her smile crescent-shaped. “I didn’t like your gift today; perhaps you could make it up to me with a birthday poem. I’ll have it mounted and enjoy it every day.”

Xue Ao saw Liu Chuanqu’s sly expression and could only rub his forehead in resignation. Besides, everyone present was from influential families; their encouragement was a mark of respect, and he could not decline.

Li Dushi was also waiting for the show, but when his daughter spoke so boldly, he stepped forward to pull her aside, saying gently, “Zisheng, Chuanqu is overly excited today and speaks without thinking. Don't take offense. But you won't escape composing a poem—please indulge us with one for everyone's amusement.”

Xue Ao picked up the brush, pondered briefly, and then wrote fluently. Someone beside him read aloud:

“The clear river flows southeast,
Where the call of the ospreys echoes on the isles.”

“At dusk of autumn frost, a golden birthday;
Born with a name renowned as the Northern Dipper.”

“Pearl stars glisten like ornaments,
Cloud garments float as if woven from silk.”

The first line referred to Liu Chuanqu; the second marked her birthday; the third described the scene of her birth—all clever lines, earning widespread praise. Liu Chuyan thought privately that Xue Ao was more interesting than rumored, capable of such fine poetry. Yet he suddenly furrowed his brow, solemn and unsmiling, dampening the mood.

“Youthful sashes hang on Wu hooks…” Xue Ao seemed unable to conclude, embarrassed, and the reader beside him nervously tried to supply an ending, but Xue Ao refused.

Pressing his temples, Xue Ao looked up in distress, meeting Liu Chuyan’s playful gaze. He pursed his lips, and after a long moment, finally completed the final line:

“A fine maiden… laughs heartily in pursuit of honor.”

“Wonderful poem, wonderful poem!” Though difficult, he managed to finish a complete poem. The crowd applauded, creating a wave of excitement.

Liu Chuyan smiled, lips pressed together; the earlier lines were excellent, but the last was far from elegant, even spoiling the poetic rhythm.

Xue Ao naturally knew his weakness. Hearing the cheers, he was not modest at all, but proudly turned to Liu Chuanqu, “Chuanqu, do you like it?”

Liu Chuanqu couldn’t grasp the subtlety, only remembering the last line about seeking honors, which was her ambition, so she shouted joyfully, “Ao Brother, I love it, but my favorite is the last line!”

Li Dushi, knowing his daughter lacked literary sense, could only follow along in front of everyone, “Zisheng must have been diligently studying lately; his literary accomplishments have improved, how delightful!”

“Thank you for the praise, Lord Li.” Xue Ao had always dreaded composing poetry since childhood, so receiving praise at last made him smile.

Yet Liu Chuanqu was not content with teasing only Xue Ao; she sidled up to Xue Tan, “Tan Brother, Ao Brother has written a poem—shouldn’t you compose a couple as well?”

“Chuanqu, today is your birthday banquet. Of course, I will fulfill your wish.” Xue Tan’s voice was gentle, and amidst the noisy chatter, it sounded like celestial music, like pearls dropping into water, deep and clear. His smile was like a warm breeze, bright and graceful. Even though Liu Chuyan had not seen him in person, she felt the overflowing tenderness—such a man, what kind of appearance would match such a perfect voice?

Her gaze slipped through the gaps in the ornate screen, catching a glimpse of luxurious fabric moving, accompanied by the rolling sound of a wheelchair. He was heading toward the grand rosewood table—just three steps more and she would see him. Beside her, Han Shuwei could not help squeezing Liu Chuyan’s wrist, nervously whispering in her ear, “Cousin, he… he is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

Liu Chuyan had long heard that Duke Xue Tan was handsome as jade, surpassing all others, but today was her first time seeing his true face. Quietly anticipating, she nodded, her eyes still fixed on that side.

Soon, Xue Tan emerged from behind the screen. The first thing she noticed was a crimson mole between his brows, sparkling like flowing radiance. His eyes were clear as water, brows curved like blades, skin fair and delicate. He wore a purple-gold crown adorned with jewels, his hair tied back, with green silk tassels hanging on each side, knotted under his chin in a floral pattern. Seated in a wheelchair, his height was indiscernible, but he appeared slender, dressed in a silver-white robe embroidered with blue patterns. White robe, black hair, his demeanor gentle as water. Such a man seemed a masterpiece of heaven. Yet, he was born frail, his face tinged with illness—otherwise, standing, he would surely be the most perfect man under the sun.

When Xue Tan appeared at the desk, the women’s section fell silent, all captivated by his beauty. He smiled lightly, “Since my younger brother has composed a birthday poem, I shall praise the beauty of the General’s residence.”

“Wonderful!” For beauties, Liu Chuanqu never withheld her support. Now that Xue Tan was about to compose, her enthusiasm soared, and she personally ran up to grind ink for him.

Liu Chuyan frowned slightly—it was obvious Liu Chuanqu was captivated by his looks. But what about herself? Perhaps the same. Nevertheless, whatever the reasons, the first step was to find a way into the General’s mansion. No matter what, this path would not lead astray.

Xue Tan looked up, glanced at the distant waterside pavilion, rockery, and small waterfall, then happily wrote:

“Jade mirrors, round and flowing without end,
White clouds like scales fill the river’s span.
Pools deep and clear, turning as liquid jade,
Terraces layered, channeling springs divine.
Where shallow, where deep,
Which family’s young girl wears silk robes,
Enjoying the fleeting years in the world’s red dust.
Disdaining red, preferring green, forsaking hairpins,
Not loving gowns, but martial attire.
The call of the ospreys steals the evening glow,
Surpassing the gallant youths of the capital.”

Though he praised the scenery, he also lauded Liu Chuanqu’s spirit, presenting her character in a new light.

Li Dushi immediately cheered, “What fine verse! Ziyan’s poetry is even more refined than before, complementing Zisheng—the two brothers are truly enviable.”

The poem was straightforward, and Liu Chuanqu understood it, becoming even more delighted. She cradled Xue Tan’s poem, loudly declaring it would be mounted for display.

From afar, Liu Chuyan observed—the calligraphy on the rice paper flowed like clouds, painted with the skill of a master, a single breath from start to finish, vigorous like a dragon in water, and brilliant like clouds soaring skyward. It was rare for Duke Xue Tan to possess excellent calligraphy—she was deeply impressed.

Hearing the praise, Liu Chuanqu beamed, glancing at Xue Tan’s exquisite profile. Remembering the beautiful lady she had seen earlier, she wondered about her talent, and turned to say, “Chuyan Sister, you said you can compose five- and seven-character regulated verse—why not write one now? If it’s good, I’ll have it mounted alongside the Xue brothers’, to be admired daily!”

Liu Chuyan had prepared for a poetry test, but did not expect the suggestion to come from Liu Chuanqu rather than the General or his wife. She glanced at Liu Songxian and Li Dushi.

Li Dushi was eager to test her, though he couldn’t think of a suitable theme. Since his daughter had suggested it, he nodded, “I’ve heard for years that Miss Liu and Lady Han are both exceptional talents. Today, at the young lady’s birthday, perhaps we are fortunate enough to hear Miss Liu’s poetry?”

His words were flattery, somewhat empty, for Liu Chuyan rarely appeared before outsiders, let alone displayed her talent. Yet Liu Chuyan did not decline, gracefully bowing, “Then I shall do my humble best.”

“Yes.” As a woman, Liu Chuyan could not write in front of so many men. Liu Songxian ordered another rosewood table moved before her, arranging brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, awaiting her composition.

“I’ve heard both the General and Lord Li love the pipa, and the musicians are playing the ‘Song of the Pipa’ by the Poet of Joy. I shall attempt a poem in honor of the pipa at the General’s residence.”

“Wonderful!” Liu Chuanqu saw the beauty’s brows curve like ink painting, her smile as gentle as water, her voice soft as pearls and jade. Her heart was stirred as if by a kitten’s paw, unable to restrain herself. Before the poem was written, she clapped in delight.

Liu Chuyan gave her a radiant smile, then, in harmony with the pipa’s melody, began to write:

“Who is the maiden with embroidered bosom and fragrant strings,
Plucking stars as spring whispers beside her?
Through seven winding ridges bells of phoenixes run,
On twelve peaks she plays her tune.”

“A thousand sorrows, ten thousand regrets, on four or five strings,
Within the strings, the sound of armor and horses surges.
Mountain monks shatter crystal bowls,
Warriors break coral whips.”

“Coral whips crack, echoing and crisp,
Jade plates spill pearls, gliding smooth.
Sea gods chase, night tides turning,
River nymphs stamp, spring ice shattering.”

“All the ladies in red weep,
Travelers longing for home are overcome with grief.
When the song ends and the tune ceases, it suddenly flies away—
The moon sets on Dongting, lonely clouds return.”

This poem possessed both depth and atmosphere. Liu Chuanqu could not understand it, her expression puzzled.

The others listened as poetry and pipa melody intertwined, their final notes falling together, feeling this was indeed a song to linger in the air for three days.

Xue Tan was the first to applaud, followed by Li Dushi, and even Liu Songxian raised his voice in praise, “This poem and melody are twin jewels!”

Xue Ao, who had finished his poem and remained at the left of the main seat, could see her clearly. He had recognized her earlier, never expecting such a temperament to compose such fine poetry, easily surpassing him. More remarkable was the poem’s vast imagery—bold as waves, gentle as wind, perfectly balanced. Could this woman be pretending?

Liu Chuyan heard the applause, lowered her gaze in thanks, then lifted her eyes, meeting Xue Ao’s stare. What was that expression? Had she offended him today?