Xian Yuan 1

Author: Guiyu
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-10-01
Features: Under the Yuefu Mountain, at dusk, the winter sunset truly resembled a frail old man. Although the western sky was still filled with red clouds, there was not the slightest warmth. The sound of pines was like the sea, and the north wind was like a knife. Several ancient pines, embracing each other, stood firmly amidst the cold light and biting wind, exuding a majestic aura. At the foot of the mountain, behind the clear stream and dense forest, a corner of a thatched cottage appeared. A handsome young man in his teens was sitting on a large stone beside the house, reading. He had sharp eyebrows and starry eyes, red lips, and white teeth. He was holding a book, reciting leisurely, "Rain pours, wind blows fiercely at the end of March; the door is shut, dusk falls, with no way to hold spring. Tears in my eyes, I ask the flowers, but they remain silent; scattered petals fly past the swing!" Ouyang Xiu is truly a genius of the generation—"
Just then, a woman's voice came from the house, "Wu Tian, it's time for dinner!" The bamboo door swung open, revealing a kind-hearted woman in her forties standing by the door, waving at the young man. The young man got up and walked over. Inside the house, he saw that the table was filled with simple dishes, yet they smelled fragrant and steamed hot. An elderly man, about fifty years old, dressed as a scholar with slightly gray hair, was sitting at the head of the table. He glanced at the young man and asked, "Tian'er, what book were you reading just now?" The young man replied, "Father, I was reading an anthology of Northern Song Dynasty poetry. These poems are truly wonderful!" The old man frowned and sternly scolded, "What? Reading such idle books again! If you don't strive for progress, how can you achieve success in the imperial examination?" The woman smiled and chimed in, "Don't just talk about the child. What about you? You're always buried in your collection of ancient artifacts, and you're still just a scholar!" The old man's stern expression softened instantly. Pulling at his beard, he smiled at the young man, "Your mother is really nagging." The woman insisted, "Who said I'm nagging?" The old man whispered with a smile, "I'm saying you nag in the best way. Otherwise, life in the mountains would be too dull."
The woman pushed the dishes toward her son, her brow slightly furrowed as she sighed, "Sigh, it's almost time for Laba again. We should go pay respects to Grandfather." Hearing this, the old man immediately turned his head, "No! Tian'er is grown now. This year, your mother and son should go. Just say that I, the old man, hurt my leg and can't walk properly." The woman frowned in disbelief, "How can we say that?" The old man put on a smiling face, "‘The Seven Scholars of the Su School, with friends all over the world,’ and we have many sons-in-law in the family, but only I, a common scholar, have no official status. How could I possibly go?" The woman said, "The Su family has been good to you. It's your own choice to be like this. How can you blame others?" The old man's expression darkened slightly as he argued, "Look, they all dress so finely, and even their glances toward us are filled with pity, as if I won't starve without entering the civil service. It's truly unbearable."
At this point, he glanced at the young man, "Tian'er, you must give me face. No matter what, you must become an imperial scholar when you grow up." The young man looked up at his father calmly and said, "Yes, Father. I have finished reading all the books at home. If possible, I would like to study at Yuefu Academy next year." The old man was slightly surprised, "I have over ten thousand books in my collection, covering classics, histories, and philosophies. You've already read them all? Last year, you only read a small part? How could you finish so quickly in just a year? Did you just gulp them down without truly understanding?" The young man said earnestly,