Chapter 102: Who Gets Credit For Father Zhang's Recited Poems
"Okay, Yingâtao, go on first. Iâll take good care of the birds here. If you actually get to see the Right Prime Minister, would you feel scared?"
Xiaoâhong also knew that their speed was too slow. She understood that the Manor was depending on this merit to keep their one hundred fiefs. This wasnât just a matter of money, but also social standing. It was the Zhang familyâs symbol of status.
Because of this, she agreed to Yingâtaoâs proposal, and she was also worried that when Yingâtao gets there, she would be afraid when she met him; after all, he was a really high-ranking official.
"Scared? What's so scary about him? Is he as amazing as our Young Master and Young Miss? Theyâre just a bit too young, if not, would that surnamed Yao person even dare to speak in front of them? Can he incubate chicken eggs? Can he make wood fungus? Can he predict the time of the drought? Heâs just in a good government position."
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Compared to Xiaoâhong, Yingâtao was more extroverted. She asked Xiao'hong a few questions disdainfully. Following each question, Xiao'hong shook her head. After she had shook her had a lot of times already, Xiaoâhong also added, "He also doesnât know how to grow cucumber in the winter. We have our Young Master supporting us, so thereâs nothing to be afraid of."
"Yes, thereâs no need to be scared of him. Then I'll go first. You should hurry up too. We can make more money for the Manor."
After Yingâtao said this, she got into a carriage. The coachman greeted her, and then the carriage gradually disappeared from Xiao'hong's and the othersâ sight.
*
At the Zhang Manor, it was already dusk. Zhang Xiaoâbao and Wang Juan brought papers filled with written words with them when they went to see Father Zhang. Father Zhang was not good at managing the family, but he was quite knowledgeable in the area of learning. Their first ancestor had joined the army and gained glory, and after several generations of continuing down this path, his family had high expectations of Father Zhang taking the path of becoming an official.
After he read the words written by his son and daughter-in-law, he gave a few comments, and then he explained to them what he taught them yesterday. The day passed by like that. He didnât have to give them too many praises to encourage them.
Around this time, Madam Wang-Zhang would stay on the side and listen to them. She would listen to what she can understand, or just watch them if she didnât understand. She watched the two childrenâs serious expressions, and she watched her husbandâs joyed expression that was full of expectation. She was also happy to know that her son and daughter-in-law have learned a lot.
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"Father, I've been studying for the past few days. I never had the chance to go outside with my parents to have fun. Why don't we go out today?"
Zhang Xiaoâbao worried about the poetry section in the exam, so after he finished todayâs lesson, he suggested to go out and play.
Usually, Father Zhang was reluctant to waste time, but for the past few days, he had people watch his son and daughter-in-law, which made the two children less playful, so he felt a little guilty. He hesitated, but when he saw his wife staring at him, he had to agree.
Without telling any of the servants, the four of them brought some snacks and drinks, and they went to the pond where the ducks and geese were kept. The small ducks and geese were playing in the water; it was unknown where the little children who were raising the goose were.
The four people spread out the blanket they brought, and sat around the snacks and wine that were placed in the center. Madam Wang-Zhang was responsible for pouring wine for Father Zhang. Only the two of them had a drink, while Zhang Xiaoâbao and Wang Juan were each teething on a piece of beef tendon.
"Husband, the scenery here is really beautiful. Even though there are still droughts in other places, there are no worries like that here. Husband, compose a poem for me to hear." Madam Wang-Zhang gave up her tough act this time, and spoke gently to Father Zhang.
"Hmm, okay, Iâll compose one. Letâs drink some wine first, give me some time to think.â Father Zhang didn't expect that his wife would want him to compose a poem right now, so he was not prepared at all. He suggested to drink wine first so that he can buy some time to think.
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"Xiaoâbao, look at the flowers, theyâre withered now. Can you dye the leaves red?" Wang Juan began to act with Zhang Xiaoâbao.
The two of them planned to help Father Zhang prepare poems for each season of the year. Even if Father Zhang only remembered a few key concepts, he would be able to write something out during the exam.
Zhang Xiaoâbao didnât know much about poems so he had to look at Wang Juanâs moving lips while he slowly said, âWhy do you want to dye it red? The flower is nearing itâs end already. Your heart may be filled with sorrow, but you should know that the flower has left its branch already, and even if you chase on your horse to the end of the horizons, you cannot change the fact that the red flower has fallen. The fallen flower is not that dispassionate; at least it will help next yearâs flowers bloom. "
"Oh, so youâre saying that the fallen red flower is not heartless, and it is waiting to become soil so that it can nurture the blooming of other flowers?â Wang Juan continued the conversation.
In fact, the two of them wanted to recite âUnlimited sorrow extended to the angled sunlight; reaching the end of the horizon after a whip of the riding crop. Withering red flowers were not heartless; turning into spring soil to nurture flowers.â 1
However, Father Zhang didnât know this. He was drinking wine and watching the two children sitting there. When he heard their words, his mind lit up, and he said to his wife, "Qiao'er, I'll tell you my poem now. Leaving under the sunset, why worry about riding the horse to look at the end of the horizons. How can falling red flowers be a heartless thing? Becoming spring soil and nurturing flowers."
"My husband is indeed amazing. You came up with a poem before even finishing your drink. Drink more slowly, let me peel some shrimps for you."
Madam Wang-Zhang was excited after she heard the poem. She felt that her husband was the most talented person. While she tried to get him to drink more slowly, she peeled a boiled shrimp and fed it to him.
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Father Zhang's face turned slightly red. He didnât know how to explain so he chugged down the entire cup of wine and then chewed on the shrimp meat. Zhang Xiaoâbao and Wang Juan were now each teething with a piece of beef jerky.
Madam Wang-Zhang watched her husband finish drinking wine and eating shrimp and then she said, "My husband is unbelievably talented. Look, the lotus in the pond has bloomed. How about you compose another poem for me. This way, I can teach our son. "
"This...fine, I will compose another poem for you. Letâs drink first." Father Zhang was a little scared. Composing impromptu poems was not that simple, so he tried to buy more time by drinking wine again.
Zhang Xiaoâbao and Wang Juan quickly took the beef jerky in their mouths out and looked at each other. Wang Juan spoke first, "Xiaoâbao, this season is really good. It's already June. I have only heard that in June, lotus flowers will bloom. However, hearing and seeing are different. Do you know why?"
"Hmm, I think it's because it's June, and its scenery is different from other times. Just like how spring, summer, autumn and winter are all different from each other. Look, this lotus leaf is so big. With this many added together, it looks like the sky and water are the same color; itâs so green. I think the lotus flowers look redder in the sunset. What do you think?"
Zhang Xiaoâbao knew this poem, so he added more hints.
Father Zhang was quite knowledgeable, but he lacked inspiration. Just now he was thinking about how to compose a poem to satisfy his wife, and after drinking two bowls of wine, he heard the words of his son and daughter-in-law and was inspired again.
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"Listen to me, uhh... After all, the pond in June is not the same as the other four seasons. Lotus leaves were seamless with the sky, so how could green be lacking. The lotus flowers were exceptionally red under the bright sun. No, the last line should be The lotus flowers were exceptionally red under the bright day."
"My husband is really different from other people. You can compose two poems in such a short amount of time. It's a pity that the sun is about to set. It's really regrettable. Husband, let me prepare some radish dipped in sauce for you to eat."
Madam Wang-Zhang praised him again, and at the same time, she fed him a baby radish that was dipped in chili sauce. It was evident from her enthusiastic expression that she wanted Father Zhang to compose another poem.
Zhang Xiaobao and Wang Juan looked at their mother's expression from the corners of their eyes, and then they looked at each other and communicated with each other by lip reading.
"I remember Du Fu wrote a poem called âSummer Night Lamentsâ. Why don't we use that?" Wang Juan mouthed.
"How long is it?" Zhang Xiaoâbao asked.
"Twenty-four lines, it contains a little bit more content." Wang Juan replied.
"Forget it, I don't have the ability to guide him through that. Choose a simpler one." After hearing that it had that many lines, Zhang Xiaoâbao immediately rejected it.
"What should we use then? Oh, Little Lizi's poems." After all, Wang Juan was once a child prodigy, and she had learned more curricular subjects than Zhang Xiaoâbao.
"What? A eunuch?" Zhang Xiaoâbao thought hard about which eunuch was talented. There was one with the surname Sima, and one with the surname Zheng. The one with the surname Tong also seemed to be good too.
"What eunuch, don't look down on eunuchs. Does the name Li Shangâyin ring any bells?" Wang Juan tried to remind him.
"Oh, him... what did he do?" Zhang Xiaoâbao looked like he knew who she was talking about, but then he suddenly squinted his eyes and asked.
"The oceanâs moon pearls are tears1."
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"Oh, I kind of remember this. âWhy wait until now to chase after memories. Is this poem even suitable for my father to tell my mother? My mother misunderstands easily---extremely easily." Zhang Xiaoâbao recognized this famous line.
"What nonsense are you talking about? Itâs not like he only has that one poem; thereâs more. âThe setting sun is infinitely goodâ " Wang Juan glanced at Zhang Xiaoâbao with her big, cute eyes.
"Oh, you should have said that earlier. He wrote that one too? I see. Look at what I, your husband, am going to do, Juanâjuan, umm..."
Wang Juan shuddered when she heard Zhang Xiaoâbao's address himself like that. The expression in her eyes finally calmed down after she stared at the water surface.
"Umm, when I came to the pond, I noticed that the calm water reflected the setting sun, but why did this make me feel a little sad? This sunset is very good, but unfortunately it is almost dusk and we have to leaveâ." Zhang Xiaobao continued.
Wang Juan finally calmed herself down by watching the water in the pond, but her emotions fluctuated again when she heard Zhang Xiaoâbao speak.
Father Zhang had no clue what was going on in his daughter-in-lawâs mind right now. When he heard his son's words, in a blink of an eye, he came up with a poem verse again. This time, it was more similar to the original poem.
âWife and child at the pond; feeling melancholic at night. The setting sun is infinitely good, but the evening is coming. Qiao'er, howâs that?"
"Itâs great, whatever my husband composes is simply excellent." Madam Wang-Zhangâs was not a fool. How could it be mere coincidence that all three of his poems were related to her son and daughter-in-lawâs conversation? It was even more suspicious the two of them were trying to look at the pond nonchalantly as if nothing happened.
Translatorâs Notes
This is a poem written in the Qing Dynasty by the poet Gong Ziâzhen. The poem is also about the poetâs life when he decided to retire from his government position and leave Beijing to return to his home in Hangâzhou.
This poem, âJin Seâ, is the poet Li Shangâyinâs most famous poem. Some say that this was a love poem written for a female servant named âJin Seâ, while some say that this poem was written in the memories of oneâs dead wife. Regardless, as Zhang Xiaoâbao has mentioned, it would not be suitable for Father Zhang to compose a poem like this for his wife.