The impact of the solar eclipse had already faded, and life in the capital went on as usual in the month of July.
Early in the morning, after court had been dismissed, Chen Shao was riding across Yudai Bridge when he pulled on the reins. His attendants immediately hurried over to ask what was wrong.
“Go see if Lady Cheng is there,” Chen Shao said after a moment of hesitation.
One of the attendants acknowledged the order and quickly ran over.
Chen Shao stood on this side watching as the door was soon knocked open. A young maid came out, spoke a few words with the attendant, and the attendant returned.
“She said Lady Cheng isn’t here,” the attendant reported.
Not here? Then she hasn’t arrived yet? Could it be that the one who calculated the eclipse wasn’t her?
Chen Shao frowned slightly. The attendants didn’t dare urge him, while more and more passersby on the street were casting curious glances. Only then did Chen Shao spur his horse forward.
Chen Shao’s carriage entered through the family gates, just as another carriage was about to depart.
“Father.” Chen Shi’ba-niang and the other young ladies stepped down from the carriage and paid their respects.
“You’re going out?” Chen Shao asked.
“Princess Boyang has invited us to a poetry gathering,” Chen Shi’ba-niang replied.
In the capital, young ladies often delighted in poetry gatherings; they were also chances to socialize and amuse themselves.
Chen Shi’ba-niang rarely took part in such gatherings, since she was not skilled at composing poetry. But Chen Shao did not trouble himself over such trivial matters and simply watched as his daughters boarded the carriage and left.
For others, however, this was no trivial matter. Seeing Chen Shi’ba-niang’s arrival, the young ladies at Princess Boyang’s residence were all quite surprised.
“Shi’ba-niang, could it be you only came because you heard the princess’s cook makes such excellent tea soup?”
One of the young ladies laughed.
Her words made the others around burst into laughter as well.
“Yes, that’s exactly it. Ever since I tasted the princess’s tea soup once, I haven’t been able to forget it.” Chen Shi’ba-niang smiled as she spoke, then turned toward Princess Boyang on the seat of honor. “I’m greedy for good food – Princess, you won’t laugh at me for that, will you?”
Princess Boyang smiled and shook her head.
“To love food, to know how to eat, and to appreciate it – that too is a rare gift,” she said.
What had begun as teasing ended up sounding like praise instead. With the mood shifted, no one could laugh at her anymore, and those around quickly followed suit with words of flattery.
Chen Shi’ba-niang sat with composure, sipping her tea with a smile.
The other young ladies, however, were both annoyed and helpless.
“Just wait, when it comes time to compose poems, she’ll make quite the spectacle,” one young lady whispered.
Before long, after the greetings and small talk, the poetry gathering formally began.
“Shi’ba-niang.”
As expected, once everyone lowered their heads in thought, a few young ladies walked over to the Chen daughters’ table. One of them, with a trace of smugness, called out while glancing at the empty desk before Chen Shi’ba-niang.
“Now that you’ve finished your tea soup, is that all you can do?”
“Since I am not well-versed in poetry, I only intend to help my sisters,” Chen Shi’ba-niang replied.
“Help? What help? Shi’ba-niang, today’s gathering is held by the princess in honor of His Majesty’s birthday. Can’t you at least put some effort into composing one piece?” another young lady said with a cold snort.
“To put in effort doesn’t necessarily mean it must be in verse,” Chen Shi’ba-niang answered.
“Then we’ll be waiting to see what your effort looks like,” the young ladies said with mocking smiles.
Chen Shi’ba-niang’s expression remained calm as ever; she only nodded and smiled.
“Chen Shi’ba-niang has really turned strange these days.”
The young ladies who had walked away were indignant; it was frustrating to throw a punch and not even hear a dull thud in return.
“Then let’s just wait and see – see how she puts her ‘effort’ to use.”
A few of them stood off to the side, composing their own poems while keeping watch on the Chen daughters. They saw Chen Shi’ba-niang sitting idly the whole time, until one of her sisters called her over. Then Chen Shi’ba-niang walked over, picked up a brush, dipped it in ink, and began to write on the paper.
Everyone was taken aback – was she really writing? Yet after finishing there, she moved to another desk and once again picked up the brush to write.
“Oh, she’s just copying things down for her sisters,” one young lady finally realized and said.
At those words, everyone else suddenly understood as well.
“This is what she calls ‘effort’?”
“Her sisters compose the poems, and she copies them out?”
“So in the end, will they claim the poems were done together as sisters?”
The whispers quickly spread, and more and more glances were cast toward the Chen sisters. Even Princess Boyang herself took notice. When a maid softly explained what was going on, the princess’s brows knit ever so slightly.
Such behavior was rather petty. Even if she openly admitted she wasn’t skilled at poetry and was only there to enjoy herself – what harm would there have been in that?
Princess Boyang shook her head without saying anything, but she was clearly disappointed.
Soon the maids collected all the finished poems, and Princess Boyang had also invited several senior scholars from the Hanlin Academy to serve as judges. Meanwhile, everyone in the hall chatted and laughed as they waited.
When the poems were brought in, the elderly Hanlin scholars, happily drinking, all wore faintly amused, dismissive smiles.
After all, very few young women these days had truly mastered the art of learning. Their presence here was not really for the sake of reading poetry. First, they could not refuse Princess Boyang’s invitation, and second, they were here for the wine.
The wine brewed in Princess Boyang’s household was renowned throughout the capital as some of the finest.
“Come, come, let’s make a bet – how many of today’s poems will actually get the tonal patterns right?” one Hanlin scholar said, raising the wine bowl in his hand. “Whoever loses must drink three bowls as forfeit.”
“Lose? More like win! Three bowls sounds just like your idea of a prize,” the others laughed.
Though they joked, they still had to do their part after drinking their host’s wine. Each of them picked up some of the poems and began to read.
“Mm, this one’s not bad – the inkwork is nicely done…”
“…Look here, this one actually didn’t misuse the classical allusions…”
“…Ah, I’ve already found one with a perfectly balanced couplet… Seems those three bowls of wine will be mine…”
The hall was filled with laughter and teasing remarks, when suddenly someone let out an exclamation.
“Good – good!” He slapped the writing table.
Everyone turned to look at him, waiting to hear some sarcastic comment.
“…It’s truly wonderful!” The man’s expression was full of excitement. He set the paper down, only to pick up another one, and once again exclaimed in praise.
Wonderful?
“Read it aloud for us,” the others urged.
But he seemed not to hear them. Staring at the poem in his hands, he kept repeating his praise, his hand even tracing lines across the table as though sketching something out.
Could it really be that good? Seeing him like this, everyone couldn’t help but crowd closer.
“My heavens! This – this is…”
The hall instantly rang with more cries of astonishment.
The front hall was lively – more lively than usual. The young ladies seated together kept breaking into laughter, and whenever they laughed, they would glance toward the Chen sisters. If things went on like this, the Chen sisters would hardly be able to remain seated. Aside from Chen Shi’ba-niang, the others already looked quite displeased.
After all, they were the daughters of Minister Chen. If the scene turned too ugly, even the hostess herself would inevitably lose face.
Princess Boyang glanced at the maid beside her.
“Are they not ready yet?” she asked in a low voice.
Why was it taking so long today?
Princess Boyang certainly did not believe those Hanlin scholars would take the poems seriously. She herself knew very well the level of these young ladies’ verse – only a rare few could be called good, while the majority were barely coherent at best.
In any case, she was not expecting truly fine works to present to the emperor for his birthday. The gathering was merely a way of showing her filial devotion.
The maid rose and quickly went to inquire. Before long she returned, with an elderly man following behind.
Princess Boyang was somewhat surprised.
Ordinarily, these self-important Hanlin scholars would never come out themselves to announce the results of the poetry review. She knew well that if it were not for her personal invitation, they would not have come at all.
“Master Yang…” she began, “why have you…”
But before she could finish, the elder – already visibly stirred – spoke first.
“These – these four poems, which lady composed them?” he asked, gazing at the four sheets in his hands.
Unlike the usual careless way he would crumple the papers, this time he was holding the four sheets carefully, almost reverently.
Those invited by Princess Boyang all came from prominent families in the capital. To avoid anyone relying on family influence, and to ensure the young ladies’ reputations remained discreet, all the poems had their names covered. Each writing table was instead marked with a number, and the works were judged accordingly.
Seeing the elder so moved, everyone present understood – these must be the winning poems of the day’s gathering.
Several of the young ladies long known for their literary talent straightened in their seats, ready to receive congratulations from the others.
“Twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…” Fortunately, the elder did not keep them waiting long and quickly read out the numbers.
The people in the hall looked somewhat dazed – especially those few young ladies, who seemed unable to react at all.
The elder had no choice but to repeat the numbers once more. This time, every gaze turned in the same direction – toward the group of Chen sisters seated there.
“So it’s the young ladies of the Chen family,” Princess Boyang said with some surprise after asking her maid.
The Chen daughters’ poetry had always been proper and orderly – capable of balanced couplets, but never once had they produced anything truly praiseworthy. Could it be that, in these past days, they had suddenly advanced under the guidance of some famous teacher at home?
“Read one aloud for us!” someone suddenly shouted, unable to conceal the note of dissatisfaction in their voice.
The elder gave an acknowledging “oh,” glanced down, and casually read one of the poems.
As soon as he finished, the hall erupted in commotion.
Although most of them were mediocre poets themselves, they still knew the difference between good and bad verse. This poem, at best, could be called neat and proper, but as for winning the top prize? Absolutely impossible.
“Are you sure you were even looking at the poem?”
Among those present were daughters of many distinguished families. They might have been taught not to throw their weight around, but to swallow an insult without protest was out of the question.
Several of them stood up and spoke sharply to the old Hanlin scholar.
Instead of taking offense, the elder looked at her and nodded happily.
“Yes, yes, exactly,” he said. “So you all noticed as well.”
Noticed? Noticed what?
Everyone was even more bewildered.
This old fellow was known to be fond of drink – could it be he’d had too much wine and was now rambling drunken nonsense?
Princess Boyang could not help but give a soft cough.
“Master Yang, are you saying these poems are well written?” she asked.
The elder shook his head.
“No, no,” he said again and again.
Not well written?
Princess Boyang almost raised a hand to her forehead – so he really was babbling nonsense after drinking too much.
“The poems, I didn’t even look at them. But this handwriting!” the elder continued, holding the papers reverently in both hands, his expression full of excitement. “This handwriting!”
Handwriting?
Everyone present was once again struck dumb.
“This hand is perfectly balanced, each stroke rounded and upright. The strength flows freely, light and heavy where it should be; the structure is even on all sides, the proportions of length and thickness in harmony. The spacing is measured and dignified, the intent guiding the brush, the brush following the spirit. It is graceful and unrestrained, lofty and soaring, truly taking the dots and strokes as form, the turns as emotion. In its solemnity shines subtle wonder – beneath the brush dwells a vajra!”
The elder’s impassioned voice resounded through the hall. His long string of words left everyone’s ears buzzing, their faces blank with astonishment.
“A Hanlin scholar is still a Hanlin scholar – eloquent as ever, with a tongue like a lotus in bloom…” someone muttered.
But… what on earth was he actually saying?
“This handwriting – whose young lady wrote it?” The elder ignored the crowd’s stunned looks and stepped forward excitedly to ask.
“I am unworthy, but I thank you for your praise.”
A girl’s voice spoke.
Everyone turned in shock to see Chen Shi’ba-niang step forward at a measured pace. She gave a respectful bow and a faint smile.
“My dear young lady, you mustn’t say yourself unworthy!” the elder quickly returned the bow. “This is no mere ‘humble skill.’ On the strength of this calligraphy alone, you could be admitted into the Hanlin Academy!”
Admitted into the Hanlin…
Though they were all young women, everyone present still knew the story behind “entering the Hanlin through calligraphy.” After all, it was a famous anecdote in the capital.
Back in the time of the Taizu Emperor, a man from Yang-zhou named Zhong Gongquan left behind some writing in a Buddhist temple. When Taizu later saw it, he was so taken with it that he summoned him and appointed him as Calligrapher-in-Attendance at the Hanlin Academy. Zhong was later promoted to Right Attendant Gentleman and Assistant Director in the Ministry of Appointments – his official career was smooth and enviable, stirring the jealousy of countless scholars and examination graduates.
Of course, that also drew no small amount of criticism.
Although no later emperor ever repeated such a foolish act, the phrase “entering the Hanlin through calligraphy” endured as the highest praise for fine handwriting.
And now, here at Princess Boyang’s poetry gathering for young ladies, someone had received that very evaluation – leaving the entire hall astonished.
“Is it truly that good?” Princess Boyang voiced the question on everyone’s mind and reached out her hand. “Quickly, let me see.”
But the elder did not hand the papers over. Instead, he simply held them up and spread them open for her to look at.
That alone was enough to show his unwillingness to part with them.
Princess Boyang could only smile wryly, half amused and half helpless, but she said nothing more and studied the writing carefully.
Everyone else fixed their gaze on Princess Boyang – including the Chen sisters themselves – faces tense with anticipation.
For Princess Boyang was a skilled calligrapher, ranked among those capable of true appraisal. The elder might have been babbling under the influence of wine, but Princess Boyang was sober.
Was it really so good?
Of course it was. Undoubtedly.
In the quiet hall, Chen Shi’ba-niang’s expression was calm and composed.
She had practiced for over two years – day and night, giving up countless pastimes, wearing down brush after brush, wasting reams of paper, and staining the family’s brush-washing basin black. All of it was for this very day.
Today, at Princess Boyang’s poetry gathering – held specially in celebration of His Majesty the Emperor’s birthday – she would astonish the crowd with a single display.
Princess Boyang seemed to have looked for a long time – or perhaps only for an instant. At last, under everyone’s expectant gaze, she raised her head.
“Lady Chen,” she sighed as she looked at Chen Shi’ba-niang, “I truly regret inviting you here.”
Regret?
“If I were to present your calligraphy, His Majesty would surely say I am not your equal -you would inevitably outshine my name.” Princess Boyang spoke with a faint smile.
Inevitably outshine my name.
Though this phrase was not as widely known as Hanlin Yang’s “worthy of entering the Hanlin,” more than half those present still recognized it.
This was not Princess Boyang expressing actual regret, but, like Master Yang before her, praising Chen Shi’ba-niang – praising her even more highly.
For those words had once been spoken by Lady Wei herself, when she saw Wang Xizhi’s calligraphy, weeping as she said them to Wang Ce, Director of the Imperial Ancestral Temple.
Wang Xizhi…
“Thank you for your praise.” Chen Shi’ba-niang bent in a deep bow. “I am unworthy of such honor.”
When she straightened again, the gazes turned toward her held not a trace of mockery anymore – only admiration and envy.
With that one sentence from Princess Boyang, Chen Shi’ba-niang was destined to become famous throughout the capital. Moreover, her calligraphy would be presented before the emperor himself – what greater glory could there be?
Who would have thought it? When had Chen Shi’ba-niang ever written such fine characters? No one had ever heard of it before – like a sudden clap of thunder from a clear sky.
“Lady Chen.” The elder still clutched those few sheets in his hand, clearly unwilling to let them go to Princess Boyang. Stepping forward a few paces, he asked, “From whom did you learn, madam? Might you have some connection with the five characters inscribed on the wall of the Qieting Temple, or with the plaque of the Tai Ping Residence?”
At these words, Princess Boyang suddenly understood. No wonder the writing had felt so familiar when she looked at it.
More than two years had passed. Though the characters at Qieting Temple were no longer as frequently spoken of as at first, they had become a minor landmark of the capital. Scholars from other regions and lovers of calligraphy would always be directed to go and take a look.
Princess Boyang herself had long since stopped visiting, but she kept in her study a copy scroll of those characters. She had even tried to imitate that style. Yet for all its apparent simplicity, it was difficult to reproduce – the key to it always eluded her.
Now, seeing the sheets in Master Yang’s hands, she realized the resemblance to those five characters was indeed unmistakable.
“Then, my lord, do you think my writing captures the subtlety of the five characters at Qieting Temple?” Chen Shi’ba-niang did not answer directly, but asked in return.
Master Yang once again bent to examine the sheets in his hand. Princess Boyang could no longer sit still – she reached out and urged him,
“Master Yang, give me one to look at.”
Master Yang seemed reluctant.
“Master Yang, don’t forget this is my poetry gathering,” Princess Boyang said with a smile.
Ah, yes – if he wanted to take these writings away for himself later, he would have to please the hostess first.
Master Yang immediately laughed and handed her one sheet. After a moment’s thought, he added another.
Their slightly comical behavior did not amuse the people in the hall; instead, it only deepened their envy. Many began edging closer toward Chen Shi’ba-niang.
“Shi’ba-niang, to think you could write so beautifully!”
“Why didn’t you let us see your work sooner?”
Everyone spoke at once, laughing as they did, but Chen Shi’ba-niang paid them no heed. She was watching Master Yang and Princess Boyang with a trace of nervousness.
The two of them lowered their heads and studied the writing for a moment.
“I think it’s even better than those five characters,” Master Yang said first.
Princess Boyang also nodded.
“More refined, more mature,” she said with a smile.
Better than that!
Better than hers!
Better than hers!
Chen Shi’ba-niang’s face blossomed into a smile, and the hand she had been clenching at her side finally relaxed.
She had done it. Effort was enough – effort alone could do it. It was not something decreed by talent or fate.
“So, Lady Chen, does that mean you have some connection with those five characters?” Master Yang quickly asked.
Chen Shi’ba-niang lowered her gaze slightly.
“Yes,” she said.
“Then may we know who your teacher was?” This time both Master Yang and Princess Boyang asked in unison.
Was the author of the five characters finally about to be revealed?
Chen Shi’ba-niang lifted her head.
“They themselves were my teacher,” she said. “I mastered my hand by copying them.”
