Chapter Fifteen: Wine and Verse Duel

Shangguan Chuci’s words struck precisely at the part of Lu Chenyuan’s heart he least wished anyone to touch. His lips pressed into a stubborn, unyielding line, and he remained silent. Yet, even without a word, his demeanor spoke volumes, giving the clearest answer possible.

Shangguan Chuci understood at once. She was about to say more when a burst of cheers erupted from the front hall. It turned out that a few local scholars, emboldened by drink, had set up an impromptu poetry contest right there.

A young man in brocade, his face full of pride, had just finished reciting a quatrain. Though his words were ornate, they ultimately lacked substance and spirit. Even so, the surrounding crowd applauded enthusiastically.

The young man, thoroughly pleased with himself, glanced around the room and declared loudly, “This year, with the grand ‘Tide Gazing’ festival, sages from all corners gather here—an event our Zhenhai River hasn’t seen in a decade! I merely cast a brick to attract jade. I wonder, among this assembly of heroes, is there anyone willing to share their own gems of wisdom?”

Shangguan Chuci caught sight of his self-satisfied expression and a playful smile tugged at her lips. Ordinarily, she would not have bothered with such petty displays of cultured affectation. Yet, from the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the gloomy look on Lu Chenyuan’s face, and a thought stirred within her.

Very well, she mused, let this boy witness what true elegance is.

With a crisp snap, she closed her folding fan and stepped forward from the crowd at a measured pace. The hall fell silent as all eyes turned to the striking young man in white who had emerged. Shangguan Chuci offered the brocaded youth a slight bow and said in a clear, poised voice, “Your verse is excellent, sir. I am newly arrived in these parts and, upon hearing such fine lines, feel a delightful itch in my heart. Permit me to offer a humble effort to enliven the gathering.”

Her tone was unhurried, imbued with a quiet confidence that commanded belief. Yet none could see that beneath this composed exterior, her mind had already sunk into the deep ocean of memory.

Once, that sea sparkled with starlight—countless poems and songs, as accessible as pearls at her fingertips. But now, a heavy mist had risen over those waters, blurring the once-brilliant luster of so many familiar gems, rendering them distant and dim.

She searched desperately amid the fog, her fingers brushing the faint shadows of recollection—Was it “The river flows eastward,” or “With hair bristling in anger”? No, neither suited her mood in this moment. The immortal lines that once came so readily now seemed veiled, their essence just beyond her grasp.

Her brow knit ever so slightly. To stand before a crowd, lost in thought, was a grave misstep; the slightest delay could turn her into their laughingstock. Just as anxiety threatened to overwhelm her, a spark of inspiration cut through the haze, and she seized it tightly.

Shangguan Chuci let out a silent sigh of relief; the calm, self-possessed smile on her face grew more rakish, touched with the air of one weathered by storms.

Her thoughts spun rapidly—yet all this happened in the blink of an eye. Without any sign of struggle, she began to recite, her words flowing effortlessly.

She called to mind the same bright moon of her homeland, the home forever lost to her. All her longing and sorrow condensed into a single, drawn-out sigh:

“When did the bright moon appear? I raise my cup and ask the clear sky…”

As the words fell, the hall fell utterly silent. Her voice rang out, clear and ethereal, heavy with yearning and unspoken questions that seemed to reach heaven itself.

Ignoring the astonishment of those around her, she continued, her voice rising, the imagery expanding:

“I do not know, in the celestial palaces above, what year it is tonight. I long to ride the wind and return, but fear the jade towers are too cold at such heights!

Dancing with my shadow, how unlike this mortal world…”

As she moved into the second half of the verse, the mood shifted, returning from the heavens to earth. Her affection for the world of men, her sorrow at separation, moved all who listened to the point of heartbreak.

“Men experience sorrow and joy, partings and reunions, as the moon waxes and wanes—such is life, never perfect. I only wish for lasting companionship, to share the moonlight across a thousand miles.”

The final word faded, and the entire hall was plunged into silence, so complete one could hear a pin drop.

A moment later, the room erupted.

“Bravo! What a poem! Such words belong only in heaven—how rare to hear them on earth!”

An elderly scholar, his face flushed with excitement, slapped the table and stood up in rapture.

The proud brocaded youth from before flushed red, then white, then green, utterly at a loss, wishing he could disappear into the floor.

Shangguan Chuci stood at the center of the applause, her face radiating satisfaction. But soon, she sensed something missing.

Her gaze drifted beyond the awed and admiring faces, seeking out the only audience that mattered to her.

She longed to see surprise in his eyes, to see even a hint of pride on his behalf.

But everywhere she looked, she saw only strangers. Among the long line of people, Lu Chenyuan was nowhere to be found.

Unnoticed, he had slipped away.

For an instant, Shangguan Chuci’s smile nearly faltered.

“That bastard, I performed with all my might, and he just left?”

She stamped her foot in frustration.

Yet this childish pique was quickly swallowed by a colder, darker emptiness.

All at once, the praise and glory filling the hall seemed the cruelest of ironies.

The heat in her chest was doused by a bucket of ice, leaving only a chill of disappointment.

She suddenly realized that the poem she had once known by heart now had to be dredged up from the depths of memory.

Those things she had believed indelible were being slowly eroded and blurred by this world.

One day, she would no longer remember a single poem, nor the way home.

When that day came, what use would such brilliance be?

What did this applause matter to her?

A tide of unspeakable loneliness and dread washed over her.

Standing at the heart of the uproar, she felt herself to be the most solitary soul in all the world.

In the instant she lost her composure, the world around her seemed to change in some sinister way.

The cheers, once so vibrant, now seemed to flow from the shadows on all sides, every note laced with biting mockery.

Within that mockery, countless malicious murmurs emerged.

Invisible lips seemed to whisper at her ear, in her heart, with icy voices:

“Who are you?”

Mocking her: “Where do you come from?”

Finally, they merged in delirious triumph, proclaiming her fate:

“You cannot return…forgotten…devoured…you will become one of us…”

The Dark Current!

It was the voice of the Dark Current!

Shangguan Chuci’s face went instantly pale.

She felt the fire in her heart, the very core of her being, flicker violently under the onslaught of this malevolent tide—flaring and fading, on the verge of being extinguished.

She tried to focus, to save herself, but every thought was drowned beneath the endless, maddening whispers, leaving only mounting panic and dread.

Just as she was about to be utterly consumed by terror—

A familiar voice, sharp as a sword, sliced through the chaos in an instant.

“Master Chu.”

Buzz!

The world grew silent.

Shangguan Chuci spun around. It was Lu Chenyuan.

All the whispers, malice, and cold vanished with that one call.

The world returned to itself.

The tavern was as noisy as ever, the warm glow of the lamps unchanged.

She steadied herself and saw Lu Chenyuan holding a half-worn leather wine pouch, bulging with freshly purchased autumn brew.

A thousand emotions surged within her, yet she forced herself to appear calm, pressing her lips together as she said, “I thought you disliked such commotion and had already left.”

Lu Chenyuan shook his head and explained, “Things were lively over here, and there was a crowd at the counter, so I thought I’d go fetch the wine myself, so you wouldn’t have to wait long.”

His words were simple, yet their effect on Shangguan Chuci was profound—a gentle warmth blossomed in her heart.

Lu Chenyuan noticed the odd look on her face earlier. Although she was smiling now, a shadow of loneliness lingered in her eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, he added, “While I was fetching the wine, I caught sight of the cheers through the flowered window, and saw Master Chu in all your glory.”

“As for your poetry, though it was noisy by the counter, I heard most of it.”

Shangguan Chuci felt her disappointment melt away, as if heavy clouds had suddenly parted.

She couldn’t help but smile, though she tried to hide it, adopting a teasing tone, “Oh? Then tell me, do you think my poor verses are worthy of your ear?”

Lu Chenyuan thought for a moment before replying, “I know little of poetic meter, but I could tell your verses were different from any I’ve heard before.”

He paused, searching for the right words, and finally spoke with heartfelt sincerity, “Hearing your poem, it made me feel something hard to explain. It was like standing in a bustling crowd, surrounded by people, but not a single one was family.”

“Wanting to go home, but unable to, forced to watch the lights of other people’s houses alone.”

Because I am an orphan, raised only by my master, so I know what that feels like.

He kept these words to himself, leaving them unspoken.

Shangguan Chuci was taken aback.

She felt as though the fire in her heart, her very core, had grown steady again because of his words.

He did not understand poetry, perhaps did not even hear the words clearly.

But he understood the loneliness in her verses.

He understood the homesickness in her soul.

All the applause in the hall—not one was a true kindred spirit.

Only this awkward young man before her had seen straight through to her heart.

A sudden ache prickled at the tip of Shangguan Chuci’s nose, and her eyes grew hot and red without her realizing it.

Afraid of revealing such unguarded emotion, she turned quickly away, pretending to look out the window, and swiftly wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

Lu Chenyuan could not see her expression, only heard her sniff and, in a tone of studied nonchalance, laugh and say, “Who would have thought, Brother Lu, that you’d have such unique insight into poetry!”