Chapter 134 - 127: The Image She Admires
"Please find a line of poetry hidden within the following twelve characters: Jian, Cheng, Qiu, Ye, Luo, You, Yang, Sheng, Li, Qin, Feng, Wen."
The moment the question appeared, Ni Bingyan’s hand shot out, her fingers flying across the screen: In Luoyang City, I see the autumn wind.
As the round began, rousing music filled the studio. The Hundred-Person Panel sat together, knowing that only the one who answered the fastest and with the highest accuracy would stand out and face the highest-scoring of the five challengers in the final championship bout.
From the very beginning, Ni Bingyan had maintained a perfect record. This kept her in a state of excitement, and her adrenaline spiked every time she answered. She saw nothing but the questions in front of her.
Seeing that her answer was correct, she finally relaxed.
The Hundred-Person Panel finished answering, and it was the challenger’s turn.
Unfortunately, even with more time to think, the challenger, who had to endure greater psychological pressure standing alone on stage, failed on this question.
Because her score was lower than the previous contestant’s, she couldn’t stay for the next PK round and could only leave the stage dejectedly.
"This line is from ’Autumn Thoughts’ by Zhang Ji of the Tang Dynasty. ’In Luoyang City, I see the autumn wind, a thousand thoughts go into a letter for home. I fear I’ve rushed and left things unsaid, so I unseal it again as the messenger is about to go.’ What is it about? It’s about homesickness."
The guest commentator began her analysis.
Ni Bingyan sat high up in the seats for the Hundred-Person Panel, looking down at Teacher Meng, who was speaking with eloquence and confidence below.
It is said that a scholarly mind lends natural elegance. Teacher Meng wasn’t a conventional beauty, but she exuded a literary grace that made her exceptionally captivating.
Ni Bingyan watched her, almost unable to look away.
’This is the kind of person I admire and want to become.’
"In the past, carriages and horses were slow, and letters traveled far. When wanderers were away from home for many years, they would surely miss their homes, their parents, their relatives and old friends. So what could they do?"
"They couldn’t make a phone call, nor could they buy a ticket and leave immediately. Besides asking an acquaintance to carry a message, their only option was to write a letter home. After finishing the letter, if their homesickness was still not fully vented, the literary scholars would then write poetry."
"As one poem goes, ’Alone in a foreign land, a lonely stranger, I miss my family twice as much on festive days.’ The autumn wind has turned chilly, and the New Year is not far off. With his thoughts churning, the poet begins to miss home. He takes out a pen and paper and quickly writes a letter."
"’War beacons have blazed for three months straight; a letter from home is worth ten thousand pieces of gold.’ This describes a letter during wartime, but does that mean a letter home is not important in times of peace? Not at all."
"Before writing, the poet’s ’thoughts were a thousand-fold’; after writing, he ’feared he hadn’t said it all.’ As the messenger was about to depart, he ’unsealed it again’ to check it over and over, afraid he had missed something. This detail! It perfectly captures the endless homesickness of travelers throughout the ages!"
"Alright, thank you, Teacher Meng, for your wonderful commentary. Let’s welcome our next challenger!"
After the strong-willed but physically disabled high school girl failed her challenge and left the stage with regret, the next challenger was a doctoral student studying abroad in China to learn the language.
As a state-run channel with an international audience, their choice of contestants was always very representative.
The foreign friend came on stage, speaking very fluent Chinese.
After a simple self-introduction and a short VCR segment, it was time to enter the challenge mode again.
As usual, he had to choose one of five question sets. The foreign doctoral student chose the third set.
"First question! Please fill in the missing word in the line of poetry—Why must the Qiang flute complain of the willows? The spring wind does not ___ Yumen Pass."
"Let’s have the Hundred-Person Panel answer the question."
For this question, many people mistakenly remember the word as "cross" or "pass" using a different character.
The foreign friend answered correctly, but 22 members of the Hundred-Person Panel got it wrong, instantly earning him 22 points. He grinned from ear to ear.
"Second question! Fill in the blank. Rosy clouds and ___ fly together; autumn waters and the vast sky are one color. A. Wing to Wing B. Solitary Swan Goose C. Solitary Wild Duck D. Solitary Wild Duck (variant character)"
Ni Bingyan, as usual, answered quickly and accurately.
The doctoral student was very strong and answered the second question correctly as well.
This continued until the eighth question.
"Eighth question. Please fill in the missing word in the line of poetry—Once you enter the gates of nobility, as deep ___ the sea, from then on your lover is but a stranger."
The challenger filled in the wrong character for "as," and 33 members of the Hundred-Person Panel also made a mistake.
Ni Bingyan’s heart pounded as she waited for the answer to be revealed.
She had gotten it right.
"This line of poetry is so famous that many people misremember it with a different character for ’as.’ In reality, anyone with a bit of knowledge about prosody would know that this is a seven-character quatrain. The position of the missing word requires a character with a level tone, whereas the commonly mistaken character has an oblique tone. It clearly doesn’t fit here. A poet would never make such a basic mistake."
Another professor of Chinese language, who was more serious and enjoyed sharing more hardcore knowledge, was relatively less popular than the witty Teacher Meng, but Ni Bingyan loved the knowledge he shared.
’If I study the rules of prosody thoroughly, I could try writing my own poems.’
Ni Bingyan quietly made a mental note of this.
A short while later, the third challenger took the stage.
He was a real estate agent, wearing a black suit and a dark green tie. His hair was so slicked back with gel that a fly would do the splits if it landed on it.
"Hello everyone, I’m a real estate agent. I love my wife, I love my job, and I love my soon-to-be-born child. I have a positive attitude towards life, and in my spare time, I don’t like doing much else besides reading poetry collections. My education isn’t the best, and I don’t know much about the technical stuff, I just love the stories hidden in the poems. Whenever I come across a poem with a story like that, I feel like I’m tracing back through time, picking up shining pearls from the long river of history. Coming to this stage today, besides wanting to prove myself, my biggest hope is to hear the teachers’ wonderful commentary in person!"
The young man was a slick talker, but his speech, instead of sounding glib, made him seem sunny and sincere.
"Cao Yongji, welcome to the stage of the Chinese Poetry Conference!"
The host, Miss Dong, smiled and bantered with him as usual. "Do you recite poetry to your clients when you’re selling houses?"
Cao Yongji was clearly prepared.
"I do! If the house is a bit run-down, I’ll advise them, ’This may be a humble dwelling, but my virtue lends it fragrance.’"
"So the quality of the house is secondary? As long as you have good character, it’s a good house?"
"Well, we can’t be *that* idealistic..."
The audience roared with laughter, but Ni Bingyan found the man looking more and more familiar.
’His eyebrows are groomed, he’s wearing stage makeup, and he’s sharply dressed... he looks like an elite salesman. But isn’t that the young guy who gave me a video tour of the house in the middle of the night?’
’It really is a small world!’
"What if the house is quite nice? What do you say then?"
Cao Yongji gave an honest smile. "Last summer, I sold a villa. As we entered the yard, the front wall was covered in bougainvillea, and the back wall was covered in roses. A small bird flew up from the grape arbor with a flutter, and a tall cherry blossom tree stood in the corner. I just said, ’In early summer the plants and trees grow lush, surrounding the house with foliage. The birds are glad to have a perch, and I too have grown to love my home. Ma’am, what do you think? Is this house the one or not?’ The client said, ’It is!’ And bam! She signed the contract on the spot!"
Miss Dong couldn’t help but laugh. "It seems that studying poetry well can be a great help to one’s career!"
"Indeed, indeed!"
Ni Bingyan was dying to roast him!
’You complained about that place from the moment we walked in until the deal was closed! You didn’t have an ounce of the shrewdness a salesman is supposed to have. If I hadn’t absolutely loved that house, there’s no way in hell I would’ve bought it!’