Popular Readings of Classical Chinese Literature Masterpieces -- Warning the World Through Stories

Author: Feng Menglong (Ming) / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-04-01
Features: Bo Ya is a charming scholar, and the beauty of the land perfectly suits his heart. Sailing with a single sail, he rides over thousands of layers of green waves, admiring the endless distant mountains in layers and the clear distant waters. In no time, he arrived at the Hanyang River mouth. It was the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival, the 15th day of the eighth lunar month. By chance, the wind was fierce, the waves surged, and the rain poured like a torrent, making the boats unable to advance. They anchored at the foot of the mountain. After a short while, the wind calmed, the waves subsided, the rain stopped, and the clouds scattered, revealing a bright moon. The moon after the rain was even more brilliant. Bo Ya, sitting alone in the cabin, felt bored. He ordered the boy to light the incense burner, "Let me play the qin to vent my emotions." The boy lit the incense and placed the qin case on the table. Bo Ya opened the case, took out the qin, adjusted the strings, and played a piece. Before the piece was finished, there was a sound of "screech" from his fingers, and a string broke. Bo Ya was greatly startled. He called the boy to ask the boat captain, "Where is this place where we are anchored?" The boat captain replied, "We stopped here by chance due to the wind and rain. Although there are some grass and trees, there are no houses." Bo Ya was surprised. He thought, "It's a desolate mountain. If it were a city or village, there might be wise and studious people who secretly listened to my qin, which is why the sound of the qin suddenly changed and a string broke. Who would listen to the qin in this desolate mountain? Oh, I know. It must be an assassin sent by an enemy, or perhaps thieves waiting for the deeper night to board the boat and rob me of my belongings." He ordered the attendants, "Search the cliff thoroughly. If they are not hidden in the shade of the willows, they must be in the reeds." The attendants took orders and gathered everyone, just about to climb the cliff with a ladder. Suddenly, someone answered from the shore, "Lord in the boat, please do not suspect me. I am not a rogue or thief. I am a woodcutter. I came back late from gathering firewood and encountered a sudden storm. My rain gear could not protect me, so I hid by the rock. I heard your refined playing and stayed to listen." Bo Ya laughed and said, "A woodcutter in the mountains dares to call himself a qin listener! I don't know if this is true or not, but I won't make a fuss about it. Attendants, let him go." The man did not leave and shouted loudly from the cliff, "Lord, your words are mistaken! Have you not heard that 'even in a small town of ten households, there must be loyal and trustworthy people,' and 'if there is a gentleman within the door, a gentleman will come to the door.' If you think there are no qin listeners in the wilderness, then at this quiet and deep night, there should not be a qin player at the foot of the desolate cliff." Bo Ya, seeing that his words were refined, wondered if he might truly be a qin listener. He stopped the attendants from making a fuss and walked closer to the cabin door, smiling and asking, "The gentleman on the cliff, if you are a qin listener, you have stood there for a while. Do you know what piece I just played?" The man replied, "If I didn't know, I wouldn't have come to listen to the qin. The piece you played just now is 'Confucius lamenting Yan Hui,' composed into the sound of the qin. The lyrics are: 'Alas, Yan Hui's life was too short, making people think of his hair turning white with sorrow.' P2