The Third Prince Yang Yuanpu, Shen Yang, and others escorted the Ma father and son, Ma Yin and Ma Xun, along with surrendered generals like Ji Zhongqi southward. The original plan was to use them to open the gates of Tanzhou City and persuade the rebel army inside to surrender.
Not many had expected Ma Zihua to be assassinated by his subordinate generals, and that the final six thousand garrison soldiers in Tanzhou City would subsequently splinter into factions, allowing Marquis Xinchang Li Pu to capture Tanzhou City almost effortlessly.
The Third Prince Yang Yuanpu and his party stayed at Baimao City for a day, waiting for the soldiers to drag ashore the several sunken ships scuttled in the Xiang River waterway and clear the channel. Han Qian and Yang En also accompanied Marquis Changxiang Wang Yong to Baimao City.
Yang Yuanpu treated Wang Yong not only with great courtesy but also with a very intimate attitude.
After Han Qian and the others arrived at Baimao City, Yang Yuanpu ordered a special passenger boat prepared for Wang Yong and his attendants, so Wang Yong wouldn’t feel constrained while in Chu territory.
Starting with the previous dynasty’s literatus Wen Tingyun, the style of ci poetry in Shu had gradually flourished. When the great ci poet Wei Zhuang came to Shu and served as Recording Secretary under Shu King Wang Jian, he pushed Shu’s ci poetry style to an extremely prosperous state. Jinling was heavily influenced by this.
Yang Yuanpu, secluded within the palace prohibition, had no opportunity to learn practical statecraft, nor any chance to practice with blade, bow, fists, or feet. However, he worked extremely hard studying poetry, ci, and musical composition.
Yang Yuanpu greatly admired Wang Yong’s master, the great ci poet Wei Zhuang, who had written the famous lines “The person by the hearth is like the moon, with bright wrists condensed like frost and snow” that were sung throughout the realm, but who had unfortunately passed away six years ago. However, after leaving the palace to establish his own mansion, Yang Yuanpu found himself surrounded by people like Han Qian, Chai Jian, Li Zhigao, Li Chong, Feng Yi, and Kong Xirong. Few had been cultivated in the arts of poetry, ci, calligraphy, and painting, so no one could compose poetry and ci for pleasure with Yang Yuanpu.
Although Shen Yang had some attainments in poetry and ci, when teaching Yang Yuanpu, he demanded precision and conciseness, rarely discussing poetry and ci.
After Wei Zhuang’s death, Wang Yong was hailed as the foremost ci poet of Western Shu.
Regardless of whether such praise was excessive, Wang Yong, with his jade-like countenance, perfectly embodied the gentle, refined temperament and elegant demeanor of a literary scholar.
That night at a hastily prepared banquet in Baimao City, Yao Xishui performed a sword dance for entertainment, while Wang Yong played the qin and sang “Watching Gongsun Daniang’s Disciple Dance with Swords,” composed by the previous dynasty’s poet Du Fu. His voice was rich and deep, expressing the poem’s magnificent momentum and melancholic, tragic grandeur to perfection, leaving people utterly entranced.
Seeing that Chun Shisanniang could barely keep her eyes off Marquis Changxiang Wang Yong, Han Qian inwardly sighed that artistic pretty boys really did captivate women’s hearts.
This kind of occasion was the perfect time for people like Wang Lin to fully display their talents. Zhang Ping was well-versed in music and composition, while Yang En was even more of a polymath—both could join in the conversation. But Han Qian and the generals who had gathered at Baimao City at this time—Li Zhigao, Fan Xiang, Zhou Dan, Gao Chengyuan—truly had no interest in poetry, ci, and music. They all sat to one side drinking wine and watching the beauties dance.
The Ma father and son had brought beautiful concubines with them when they went to supervise the battle at Yueyang. These women had now become spoils of war. Besides Yao Xishui’s sword dance for entertainment, these beauties were driven to dance before the banquet. It was quite lively, so Han Qian and the others didn’t feel bored.
“While in Shu, I heard Marquis Yang say that Master Han was taught extraordinary arts by a hermit since childhood and is skilled in all hundred crafts, possessing the strategic vision of ghosts and gods. He must also excel greatly at ci poetry. Today, Prince Linjiang specially ordered Wang Yong to compose a ci at the banquet to praise the might of the Chu army in defeating the rebel forces. May Wang Yong request that Master Han also compose a ci together?” When the banquet reached its climax, naturally Marquis Changxiang Wang Yong was asked to show his skill. Unexpectedly, Wang Yong was extremely interested in Han Qian and wanted to drag him into composing ci for entertainment.
Han Qian thought to himself: Damn, if I plagiarize one line from Su Dongpo like “Ten years of life and death—boundless, I try not to think, yet cannot forget,” wouldn’t that shock you all? Or if I copied a few erotic lines from Zhou Bangyan, wouldn’t that make Yao Xishui and Chun Shisanniang, whose thoughts and gazes have been circling Wang Yong today, harbor secret spring feelings for me from now on?
However, if he plagiarized extensively today, wouldn’t he suffer such torment every time he encountered such occasions in the future?
Thinking of this, Han Qian repeatedly declined: “The so-called exaggeration through error, spreading falsehoods through repetition, making tigers appear from ten people’s words—nothing exceeds this. Han Qian is clumsy at poetry, ci, songs, qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Among Master Shen Yang’s several disciples, I am the most unworthy. Marquis Yang probably didn’t want our court’s true talented scholars to be noticed by the Shu King, so he pushed forward the useless Han to give false praise. If Marquis Changxiang believes Marquis Yang’s words, he’ll truly have fallen for Marquis Yang’s great deception.”
Han Qian knew Yang En quite well. At this moment, “reproaching” him for spreading nonsense outside, Yang En could only shake his head and smile. He really had no way to get angry with him.
In Yang En’s eyes, composing ci and music were merely minor skills. If Han Qian looked down on them, what could he say?
Shu King Wang Jian called himself king rather than emperor, so Marquis Changxiang Wang Yong maintained a humble attitude before Third Prince Yang Yuanpu, treating him with courtesy. The matter of composing ci had originally been raised by Third Prince Yang Yuanpu. Wang Yong included Han Qian, who was respected by Yang Yuanpu, wanting to see if this Han Qian so praised by Yang En truly had talent. Unexpectedly, as soon as he spoke, he was cleanly refused.
Wang Yong didn’t get angry. With a composed expression, he bowed with clasped hands toward Han Qian, seeming to apologize for his earlier presumption, then lowered his head to ponder a new ci. The youth sitting beside Wang Yong, however, examined Han Qian with curiosity.
Although Wang Yong could be said to have a jade-like countenance, he at least looked like a man. But this youth beside him, though not particularly short in stature, had such absolutely beautiful, clear, and charming features that no male clothing could disguise them—even more bewitching than Xi Ren, who stood behind him disguised as a man.
Among Marquis Changxiang Wang Yong’s entourage, aside from two accompanying officials from Shu’s Ministry of Rites and the guard commander, all other personnel were registered as escorts. As long as they didn’t act alone, there was no need to thoroughly investigate each person’s identity and background.
Han Qian didn’t care about the origins of this youth beside Marquis Changxiang Wang Yong. After a while, Marquis Changxiang Wang Yong completed a “Pusa Man” ci.
Wang Lin and others all praised its excellence. Han Qian sat below Shen Yang. He took Wang Yong’s new composition from Shen Yang’s hands and hastily read through it, thinking that perhaps Wang Yong was better at the light, elegant tunes of the Huajian School. The new ci could be said to be extremely refined, but couldn’t capture the vast, melancholic atmosphere of Dongting Lake and ten thousand horses standing silent. It could only be considered a perfunctory social piece, quite bland.
Han Qian echoed a few words of praise and passed the ci work to others for circulation. At this time, he preferred to discuss with Shen Yang how to clean up Tanzhou’s aftermath and how to arrange subsequent combat plans against Zhao Sheng and Luo Jia’s rebel forces in Hengzhou and Shaozhou.
South of Hengzhou and Shaozhou lay Daozhou and Yongzhou, which were tributary states submitting to Great Chu, but Jinling’s control over them was extremely limited.
When Ma Yin occupied Tanzhou and styled himself Prince of Xiang, the forces in Daozhou and Yongzhou showed no movement. Further south of Daozhou and Yongzhou, Quanzhou and Guizhou were territories under the former Jinghai Military Governor and Prince of Nanhai Liu Yin.
Considering that Zhao Sheng and Luo Jia might flee south with their forces to submit to the Prince of Nanhai, according to Han Qian’s usual style, he would naturally advocate detaching elite naval and infantry forces to advance south along the Xiang River into Daozhou and Yongzhou territory. On one hand, this would intimidate the Nanhai State (Jinghai Military) against any unusual movements; on the other, it would block Zhao Sheng and Luo Jia’s southern escape route, forcing them to surrender their cities on the spot.
Only then could this battle be considered a truly complete victory.
However, considering that the scale of Liang army forces assembling at Caizhou was growing ever larger, that the Jing-Xiang conflict could resume at any time after autumn, and that there was still no movement from the Crown Prince and Prince Xin’s side, Han Qian also felt that at this time they should quit while ahead. Perhaps forcing Zhao Sheng and Luo Jia out of Shao and Heng provinces to flee south with their forces would be a more acceptable outcome.
If Zhao Sheng and Luo Jia fled south with their forces into the mountains of the upper Xiang River, they would still pose a certain threat to Xiangtan to the north. This would also be the justification for the Longque Army elite to continue stationing in the Xiangtan area and incorporating surrendered rebel soldiers.
Of course, in this battle Marquis Xinchang Li Pu had achieved brilliant and dazzling military merit. Han Qian mainly wanted to see how Emperor Tianyou would reward Li Pu next, so he could judge whether Emperor Tianyou was vigilant about the Shenling Bureau’s remaining forces in Jianghuai, and to what extent!
Only after confirming this point would Han Qian have a clear idea about whether many subsequent matters should be done, and to what extent they should be done.
“Although Prince Linjiang’s composition is still somewhat immature, it already has some air of a ci poet. What’s rare is that Prince Linjiang has the ambition to swallow ten thousand li—something even more beyond ordinary people…”
At this time Yang Yuanpu also attempted to compose a ci and was requesting Marquis Changxiang Wang Yong’s critique.
Han Qian looked up and saw that youth beside Wang Yong leaning quite intimately close to Wang Yong to look at the ci work in his hands. Seeing her delicate brows slightly furrowed, presumably the Third Prince’s ci was truly mediocre, making her quite puzzled why Wang Yong, as a son of the Shu King with a status not necessarily inferior to Yang Yuanpu’s, would flatter him so fawningly.
Han Qian smiled inwardly. In the four-plus years since the Third Prince left the palace to establish his mansion, he hadn’t worked on poetry and ci. At this time, he probably couldn’t even figure out tonal patterns. What excellent work could he write?
Yet Yang Yuanpu appeared very pleased with Wang Yong’s praise.
The so-called literary accomplishment and martial virtue—the Third Prince had military merit from defending Xichuan and this feudal domain reduction campaign, so he had accumulated a certain reputation in martial virtue. But even if it was merely seeking fame, going forward he needed to exchange verses with literati and scholars, and even patronize a group of literary guests—these were necessary actions.
Han Qian truly couldn’t muster interest in these light, elegant, gentle ci, but he patiently accompanied them until late into the night when the banquet ended, then returned to his camp tent with Xi Ren to rest.
“Legend says Shu King Wang Jian’s young daughter Princess Qingyang is incomparably beautiful. That fake youth beside Marquis Changxiang Wang Yong was extremely interested in you today. Why didn’t you think of showing off? All the glory was taken by those wine sacks and rice bags like Wang Lin?” Xi Ren helped Han Qian remove his robe and served him in washing and resting, unable to resist teasing him.
“If that fake youth truly is Princess Qingyang in disguise, she’s mostly here for a marriage alliance. Such loose-tongued words from you would be a crime of disrespect if spoken outside!” Han Qian glared at Xi Ren. Seeing her full of disdain, he reached out to pinch her beautiful, delicate face and said: “And since you’ve already called Wang Lin and those people wine sacks and rice bags, how could I possibly learn from them to compose such elegant ci?”
“That would require you to know how!” Xi Ren slapped Han Qian’s hand away and gave him a sideways glance.
“Spread out paper, I’ll compose a ci to give you.” Han Qian said. The person from the dreamscape, Zhai Xinping, had mediocre knowledge in science and engineering but could recite many Song ci and Yuan qu. He didn’t believe that randomly plagiarizing two pieces wouldn’t overwhelm this little shrew before him.
Xi Ren defiantly spread out paper and ink. Han Qian thought that if he plagiarized Su Dongpo’s ci, the vision would be too grand. Better to plagiarize the graceful style of Zhou Bangyan, Liu Yong and others, which resembled the popular Huajian style of the current age. He took up the brush and wrote on the paper:
“Crossing the River Cloud—Clear mist lies low over Chu plains, warmth returns on wild geese wings, formations arise from level sands. Suddenly startled, spring before the eyes. May I ask when it curves and winds to mountain homes? Applying fragrance and rouge, abundant powder and ornaments, competing to create beautiful splendor. Thousands upon thousands of silken threads—willows at the road’s edge, gradually able to hide crows. How lamentable! Clear river flows eastward, painted boats drift westward, pointing toward Chang’an as the sun sets. The banquet ends, wind flips banner tails, tide splashes black gauze caps. Tonight facing the first crescent moon, beside the water post, deeply moored among reeds and rushes. Where deep regret dwells, from time to time I trim the lamp’s wick myself.”
Xi Ren was at that moment using scissors to trim the lamp wick, wanting to make the lamplight brighter. Seeing Han Qian write “from time to time I trim the lamp’s wick myself,” her delicate body trembled slightly. Looking toward Han Qian, her eyes blazed brilliantly with radiance…