Chapter 42: The Talent Destined to Save

Yuan Shu issued a venomous wager to Luan Yi. Luan Yi, however, remained calm and unruffled, replying coolly, “Why should I not dare? Let it be as Young Master Yuan says—if my playing and singing fail to please the gentlemen present, I shall accept whatever punishment is decreed. But… if the music I perform proves agreeable to your ears, what then?”

“Oh? And what does Young Master Luan propose?” Yuan Shu asked.

Luan Yi pondered a moment. “If that be so, permit me a bold request. Should my piece be judged acceptable, may I ask that the esteemed Minister Yuan himself inscribe a plaque for the new tavern I have opened in Luoyang?”

“Hah! Is that all? Nothing easier.” Yuan Shu turned to Yuan Kui. “Uncle, would you agree?”

“Even if Young Master Luan had not asked, I would gladly write a plaque for his establishment,” Yuan Kui replied, stroking his beard with a smile.

Yuan Shu erupted in laughter. “Excellent! Gentlemen, bear witness. Bring forth the qin!”

From the moment Luan Yi stepped forward, Diao Chan understood at once that his volunteering to perform was meant to protect her. She was deeply moved. As a scholar, a renowned young luminary of the Han, Luan Yi had set aside his status to play the role of entertainer at another’s banquet—a sacrifice not lightly made. Moreover, he accepted such a harsh wager: though his life was not at risk, in this age where reputation was everything, losing meant falling into obscurity. For a scholar, a sullied name was a suffering a thousandfold worse than death. At this thought, Diao Chan wept silently, hiding her face behind Wang Yun.

Elsewhere at the banquet, beside Cai Yong sat a man approaching fifty. Seeing Luan Yi accept so cruel a challenge, he could not help but worry for him. He glanced over and found Luan Yi’s mentor, Grand Academician Cai Yong, still cheerfully eating and drinking without a care. Enlightened, he asked, “Brother Cai, how is it you remain so composed? Are you certain your pupil will win this wager?”

Cai Yong smacked his lips, set down his chopsticks, and wiped the grease from his mouth with a silk napkin. He chuckled, “But of course!”

“Oh?” The middle-aged man was surprised. “Luan Yi is learned in the classics and poetry, but I hadn’t expected him to be so skilled in music as well.”

“Him?” Cai Yong laughed. “He knows nothing of music. He merely studied the qin for a few years in Yingchuan.”

“What?” The man was astonished. “Then why did you not stop him from accepting the wager? Do you wish to see him shamed publicly?”

“Rest assured!” Cai Yong waved his hand. “Though my pupil is still young, he is no fool. If he dared accept, he must have his reasons. No need to worry. Besides, though Luan Yi’s musical skill is mediocre, he often plays strange and novel songs. These pieces are not found in any score, yet are quite delightful. I enjoy them greatly, and I believe the guests tonight will too. So, in this wager, Luan Yi will surely win!”

Before the ancient qin, Luan Yi knelt and tested the instrument’s sound. It was a fine qin, its tone far superior to his own at home. He plucked the strings, searching for the mood. Just as he prepared to begin, he felt something was missing.

At the feast, with all eyes upon him, people waited for him to start, but saw him bow his head, lost in thought.

Yuan Shu grew impatient and complained, “Luan Yi, why do you not begin? Are you afraid to lose?”

Luan Yi shook his head. “How can music be played without wine? I ask Yuan Gong for a drink!”

Yuan Kui smiled and nodded, waving his sleeve. “Bring wine for Master Luan!”

A servant obeyed, presenting a tray and setting the wine before Luan Yi. Yet he said, “A cup is too little. Bring me the whole jar!”

Cao Cao, hearing this, rose from his seat and handed his own wine jar to Luan Yi.

Luan Yi glanced at the jar—it held about a pound of wine. In ancient times, the wine was weak; with his tolerance, a full jar would make him slightly tipsy at best. Satisfied, he broke the seal and drank heartily, deliberately hastening his drinking so that more of the wine spilled over, soaking him. To others, however, his actions seemed bold, even wild.

“Excellent wine! Ha ha ha…” Luan Yi tossed the jar aside and laughed heartily. Then, kneeling again beside the qin, he said, “Forgive me, gentlemen.”

His ten fingers danced across the strings like spirits, the music rising and floating through the hall. As Cai Yong had said, Luan Yi’s skill was merely above average, not exceptional. Yet the song he played was unknown to the world, its notes joined seamlessly, captivating all who heard.

After several phrases, lyrics followed.

Luan Yi sang:

“When will the bright moon appear? I raise my cup to ask the sky. I do not know, in heavenly palaces, what year it is tonight. I long to ride the wind and return, but fear the heights of jade towers, where the cold is unbearable. I dance with my shadow, how unlike the mortal world. Circling red chambers, leaning on carved windows, shining on sleepless ones. Should not bear resentment—why must the moon always be full at times of parting? People have joys and sorrows, meet and part; the moon waxes and wanes, rarely is all perfect. May we live long, and share the moon’s beauty, though far apart.”

The song, “When Will the Moon Be Clear and Bright,” repeated twice. Its haunting melody, paired with Luan Yi’s voice—aged and rough from his changing tones—created a unique charm. The entire hall was stunned; even Cai Yong, so confident in his pupil, was taken aback, dropping his chopsticks without noticing.

Then, thunderous applause erupted, shaking the grand hall.

Yuan Kui was exhilarated, rising with a broad smile, clapping and praising, “Excellent, excellent!” he repeated. “‘The cold is unbearable in high places,’ ‘People have joys and sorrows, the moon waxes and wanes, rarely is all perfect,’ ‘May we live long, and share the moon’s beauty, though far apart’—every word is a gem!” He, high in office, understood well the loneliness of lofty heights.

“This song will be passed down through the ages,” Grand General He Jin exclaimed excitedly. “Luan Yi’s talent is truly worthy of his reputation.”

Luan Yi humbly thanked them all, laughing inwardly: With lyrics by the great scholar Su Dongpo, how could it not be immortal? He glanced at Yuan Shu, who wore a look of regret—obviously disappointed at missing the chance to see Luan Yi embarrassed. Taking pleasure in others’ misfortune, how could one win hearts? No wonder, in the time of warlords, though Cao Cao was weaker than Yuan Shu, he called him “a mere skeleton in the tomb.”

He looked again at Diao Chan. Her face was streaked with tears, yet she smiled joyfully, her gaze filled with tenderness and affection.

Seeing Luan Yi look at her, she blushed and lowered her head, only to peek at him again moments later, repeating the gesture again and again.

Luan Yi responded to the congratulations, exchanging glances with Diao Chan, and love blossomed between them.

Just then, a man stepped forth, bowing to Yuan Kui at the head of the table. “Today is Yuan Gong’s birthday, and I ought not to steal the host’s thunder. Yet, having tasted fine food, drunk good wine, watched beautiful dances, and heard heavenly music, I am filled with joy, and cannot keep silent. Thus, I wish to use Yuan Gong’s illustrious hall to deliver this month’s Monthly Appraisal, and hope for your permission!”

Luan Yi started in surprise. There were many named Shao in the Han, but only one who published the Monthly Appraisal—Xu Shao, known as Xu Zi Jiang. He was acclaimed as the foremost critic and appraiser of the era, issuing judgement of notable figures on the first day of each month. Why he had delayed this month’s review until the fifteenth, Luan Yi could not guess.

Luan Yi personally regarded Xu Zi Jiang as possessing the abilities of a modern human resources specialist—able to analyze a man’s character from his deeds, and render surprisingly accurate assessments. His famous verdict on Cao Cao, “A capable minister in peace, a fierce hero in chaos,” was proof enough. With his reputation, anyone he praised would see their status rise immensely.

As Luan Yi mused, Yuan Kui spoke up. With Luan Yi’s dazzling performance just finished, and Xu Zi Jiang about to give his review, the experienced Yuan Kui guessed immediately whom he would appraise, and was delighted to go along. “To have Xu Zi Jiang’s Monthly Appraisal at my birthday banquet is truly icing on the cake. I am honored. Who will you review this month?”

Xu Shao smiled, hands behind his back. “This month, I shall break tradition—not reviewing one, but several!”

“Oh?” Yuan Kui was surprised and pleased. “Who could inspire you to do so? Pray tell.”

“You will soon know,” Xu Shao replied, pausing, then walking past Luan Yi to stand before Guo Jia. “Young Guo Jia, with divine schemes and endless stratagems, able to defeat foes from a thousand miles away, is a genius to save the world!”

“A genius for saving the world?” The hall was astounded. Though ‘capable in governance’ and ‘saving the world’ sound similar, the latter is far superior. As we often say: to cure is to treat illness, but to save is to rescue life. The difference is clear.

“Dian Fu, with a chest full of strategies, commanding troops as easily as moving his own limbs, is a talent to save the world; Xi Zhicai, with iron tongue and copper teeth, debating the nine provinces with unmatched eloquence, is a prodigy to save the world; Mao Jie, with a calm heart, unshaken by turmoil, is a talent to save the world; Xun Yu, broad-minded and benevolent, encompassing all things, is a talent to save the world; Xun You, with a mind steeped in law and unwavering justice, is a talent to save the world; Cheng Yu, learned and insightful, his mind like mountains and valleys, is a talent to save the world!”

Luan Yi was overjoyed. The Five Officials had become Eight, and what had been merely a local honor in Yingchuan was now, thanks to Xu Zi Jiang’s national review, elevated to national fame.

After appraising Luan Yi’s friends, Xu Zi Jiang approached Luan Yi. He circled him several times, as if pondering deeply, before declaring, “Luan Yi, able to calm the realm with his pen and secure the empire with his sword—he is a genius to save the world!”

“Ah…” All present gasped in shock at Xu Zi Jiang’s verdict: “Able to calm the realm with his pen, secure the empire with his sword.” In their memories, this was the highest praise Xu Zi Jiang had ever bestowed.