Chapter 122: The Flower Viewing Gala (Part II)

Madam Min nodded slightly. The calligraphy of the two masters was equally renowned, making it difficult to rank one above the other. In truth, Yan Zhenqing’s calligraphy, with its full, rounded, and powerful strokes, was better suited for women to emulate than the bony, vigorous, and slender style of Liu Gongquan. That this young woman, knowing her preference for Liu, could persist in speaking the truth without sycophancy or flattery—possessing such a proud spirit—marked her as a girl of genuine character. "What do you consider supreme in calligraphy?"

"In my humble opinion, the writing reflects the person, so the person is supreme," An Yi replied.

"Profound meanings transcend the material realm; mysterious principles lie hidden between the strokes. Calligraphy must possess spirit, vitality, bone, flesh, and blood. If any one of these is missing, it cannot be considered true calligraphy. In the supreme way of calligraphy, spirit and resonance come first, while form and substance are secondary."

As soon as Madam Min spoke, a cold sneer rippled through the crowd. The room was so quiet that the sound was jarringly sharp.

"Which young lady has a different opinion? Please step forward and speak," Madam Min said, her gaze sweeping over the attendees.

A young girl was pushed forward. An Yi looked closely and recognized her as the one who had been glaring at her with such hostility earlier.

The girl bowed and said, "Huang Yuan of the General of Cavalry’s residence pays her respects to you, Madam."

An Yi smiled in realization; she was from the Huang family, which explained everything.

"Why were you laughing, Miss Huang?" Madam Min asked.

"I was not laughing at you, Madam, but at Miss An. She is merely a country girl who just arrived from the boondocks. Overestimating her own abilities and lacking any real learning, she dares to show off and spout nonsense in your presence. She knows nothing of the supreme art of calligraphy and is merely talking rubbish," Huang Yuan said, deliberately demeaning her.

Madam Min frowned and replied sternly, "Miss Huang, calligraphy is the painting of the heart. The person and the writing are one and the same, as inseparable as fish and water. When you see the writing, you see the person. Without the person, how could there be spirit? How could there be calligraphy? Miss An’s words were concise and to the point; they were not nonsense."

The question Madam Min had posed was not difficult, but when someone of her stature asks a question, even the simplest one, it invites deep reflection. Had An Yi been widely learned, she might have cited classics like the other young women, but as she lacked such training, she had only been able to fall back on the idea that "the writing reflects the person." Madam Min had not rejected An Yi’s answer but had instead expanded upon it. Huang Yuan, who excelled in music and was intent only on mocking An Yi, had failed to grasp this. Now, having failed to humiliate An Yi, she had lost face herself.

"In the morning, one is a farmer; by evening, one stands in the Emperor’s hall. Miss Huang, your own ancestors were once tillers of the soil. How can you forget your origins?" Madam Min challenged.

"I..." Huang Yuan was left speechless.

"Madam, I come from a farming family. I have never entered a school or studied under a tutor. My knowledge is limited, and I am not proficient in the zither, chess, calligraphy, or painting. I only understand a little medicine and have no other skills. I beg your permission to leave," An Yi said, fearing that if the questions continued, she would inevitably face the same public humiliation as Huang Yuan.

"Miss An, there is no need for such modesty. You speak with substance, and our conversation has been most pleasant. Why not continue?" Madam Min felt a touch of pity. A girl just arrived from the countryside, invited to the Flower Appreciation Banquet, was already being ostracized by these noblewomen; why should she make things difficult for a girl of such proud spirit?

"If you do not mind the rustic wine of a farmstead, I sincerely invite you to visit my home, and we can continue our conversation there," An Yi hoped to spare herself further embarrassment.

"Since you offer such a sincere invitation, I shall certainly go," Madam Min smiled, glancing at Huang Yuan. "I hope you will stay for the rest of the banquet, Miss An. Do not let trivial matters drive you away. Please, show us what you can do."

An Yi wanted to decline again, but Qing Rou walked over and took her arm. "Sister An, don't leave. The one who should leave is her."

Huang Yuan was filled with regret. If she were driven out of the banquet by Qing Rou, her reputation would be completely ruined.

Zheng Yun, seeing Qing Rou coming to An Yi's defense, worried that she might actually expel Huang Yuan, which would cause a total rift with the Huang family—not the right time for such a confrontation. She quickly intervened, "Madam Min, it is getting late. Please announce the rules of the banquet."

Madam Min looked at Zheng Yun and said, "The rules are simple. The topics are posted on the second floor. There is no restriction on rhyme, but you must complete one piece—be it poetry, prose, or painting. Those with the ability may do all three. The music for the competition will be composed and performed based on one of the top three poems or literary works."

At this, many of the girls, including Huang Yuan, gasped. Setting new music to new lyrics was no easy feat. None of them had expected such a difficult task, but it was too late to back out now.

"You all know the rules. The banquet officially begins. You have half an hour," Zheng Yun announced.

An Yi did not serve as a judge and went to the second floor with Qing Rou and the others. Huang Yuan and the other musicians went to the garden to admire the flowers.

"Sister An, will you write a poem, a piece of prose, or paint?" Qing Rou asked.

"I came here to enjoy the flowers," An Yi smiled.

"Miss An, don't mind what others say. Madam Min is still waiting to see your performance," Zhuang Manru said softly.

"Miss An, if you perform well, Madam might even take you on as a personal student," said Min Bingjie, Madam Min’s grandniece.

"If you become Madam Min’s student, it would be enough to make Huang Yuan die of anger," Liang Xiaoyue said, covering her mouth to hide a smile.

"Sister An, write a poem. I heard you reciting so many lines earlier; you must be able to write a good one," Qing Rou suggested.

"Let’s look at the topics first!" An Yi was caught in a difficult position and could only take it one step at a time.

The paper with the topics was pinned to the wall. As it was a Flower Appreciation Banquet, the themes were related to flowers, using the "Twelve Guests" as titles: the Noble Guest (Peony), the Pure Guest (Plum Blossom), the Longevity Guest (Chrysanthemum), the Fine Guest (Daphne), the Plain Guest (Lilac), the Secluded Guest (Orchid), the Quiet Guest (Lotus), the Elegant Guest (Multiflora Rose), the Immortal Guest (Osmanthus), the Wild Guest (Rose), the Distant Guest (Jasmine), and the Near Guest (Peony/Paeonia).

Everyone chose their topics and left their names and pen names with the maidservants. An Yi didn't know which to pick; she couldn't write about any of them.

"Miss An, have you not chosen yet?" Zhuang Manru asked.

"I have. The Longevity Guest, the Chrysanthemum," An Yi picked one at random.

"I knew Sister An would choose the chrysanthemum," Qing Rou giggled.

"So many people have written about the chrysanthemum before; I fear it would be difficult to write something original," Fang Lanzhi remarked suddenly.

"Lanzhi, that is not correct. There are countless flowers in poetry. If we stopped writing just because predecessors have done so, none of these twelve flowers could be written about," Qi Jiayin countered.

"Exactly," Zhao Min said, looking at An Yi with a smile. "I believe Miss An has the talent of Xie Daoyun and will surely write a poem that is far from mundane."

An Yi’s eyes flickered, and she smiled calmly. "Whether a poem is good or not is a matter of opinion. To some, the lotus is 'unstained by the mud, unadorned by clear ripples, straight in its core and exterior, without vines or branches, to be viewed from afar but not toyed with.' Yet to others, it is merely 'the lotus on the pond, pure but lacking sentiment.'"

"Miss An’s words are reasonable," Zhuang Manru praised.

The maid wrote "Longevity Guest: Chrysanthemum" on the paper and looked up. "Please tell me your pen name, Miss An."

An Yi glanced at the others' pen names and smiled. "The Recluse of the Fragrant Rice."

Once the topics were chosen, the group headed to the garden to admire the flowers. As they walked, chatting and commenting on the blooms, they gradually drifted apart. Zhao Min and Fang Lanzhi went together; Qin Baoyun, Liang Xiaoyue, and Min Bingjie walked as a trio; while Zhuang Manru and Qing Rou disappeared somewhere.

The maids remained at the Warm Fragrance Pavilion, leaving An Yi on her own. She strolled through the garden at her leisure.

"Enemies often cross paths." There was truth to that saying. An Yi had not gone far when she encountered Huang Yuan and two other girls. Coming face to face with no side paths available, An Yi could not avoid them even if she wanted to.

"The An family’s upbringing is truly something; you don't even know how to pay your respects when you see your elders," said Huang Yuan, who was a younger cousin of the Huang family.

"The An family’s upbringing is to not claim relatives indiscriminately," An Yi retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"You insolent wench who ignores her superiors! Today, I will teach you, on behalf of your parents, what it means to respect one's elders!" Huang Yuan raised her hand to slap An Yi.

An Yi nimbly grabbed Huang Yuan’s wrist, squeezing with her slender fingers, and Huang Yuan cried out in pain. The two girls who had come with her started to step forward to help, but were so intimidated by An Yi’s gaze that they froze.

"Only the Huang family would send a legitimate daughter to be a concubine. Ask your family what a concubine is, Miss Huang, and stop making a fool of yourself," An Yi mocked coldly, flinging Huang Yuan's hand away. "I have no desire to speak with someone who intends to be a concubine. Get lost!"

Huang Yuan glared at her with hatred and turned to the two girls. "Let’s go."

The two girls exchanged a look and said, "We were going to look at the orchids over there, so we won't be going with you."

"You!" Huang Yuan could not believe they were distancing themselves from her at such a time.

The two girls kept their heads down as they walked past her, gave An Yi a small smile, and hurried away.

Huang Yuan bit her lip hard, ran forward a few steps, then turned back. "An Yi, just you wait. I won't let you get away with this."

An Yi frowned. Her eyes darted, and she picked up a small stone from the ground, flicking it with her finger to strike Huang Yuan’s left ankle.

"Ouch!" Huang Yuan crouched down, clutching her ankle. It hurt fiercely. When she looked back and saw An Yi walking toward her, she was so frightened that she hurriedly limped away.

"Pfft!" A light chuckle reached her ears.

"Who’s there? Come out!" An Yi said sharply.

A head popped up from behind the pink wall. "Miss An."

"Lin Xijin?" An Yi was slightly startled. The Princess’s residence was hosting the Flower Appreciation Banquet with many female guests; how could an outsider be allowed in?

Lin Xijin leaped over the wall and landed in front of An Yi, placing a finger to his lips. "Shh, keep your voice down."

Seeing his mischievous expression, An Yi frowned. "Why are you here?"

"I came to steal something," Lin Xijin whispered.

An Yi took a step back, watching him warily.

"Do you know where the 'Snow-Bright' is kept?" Lin Xijin asked.

"You came to steal a flower?" An Yi looked at him in astonishment. He was incredibly bold to come to the Princess’s residence to steal a flower.

"If I’m not stealing a flower, should I be stealing a person?" Lin Xijin giggled. "Actually, stealing a person wouldn't be bad either. A beauty is like a flower that understands one's words; perhaps I should steal you instead."