Chapter 107: As If Encountering the Soul of an Old Friend

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But Wang Jin was disappointed. Ye Chang showed no trace of embarrassment; instead, he revealed a smile full of meaning.

He glanced at the paper, then at Wang Jin, before addressing Wang Changling: “That man said he slightly revised the old poem into alternating long and short lines, but unfortunately, those around him are not skilled in melodies, so no one could compose music to accompany and sing it.”

Having said that, Ye Chang put down his brush and began marking punctuation. Moments later, the once continuous lines of the poem were interspersed with commas and stops.

“Far upstream the Yellow River, a patch of white clouds, a solitary city amidst towering mountains. Why must the Qiang flute complain? The willow and spring breeze do not cross the Jade Gate Pass…”

Someone began to chant the lines aloud, and the entire assembly fell silent.

All eyes turned to Wang Jin, for with the addition of punctuation, the previously incomplete poem had become a newly popular song lyric.

By this time in the flourishing Tang Dynasty, poetry had matured. On the foundation of sung poetry, song lyrics with fixed metrics and tunes had emerged for widespread singing.

Although these lyrics had yet to gain full literary respect and were sometimes scorned by orthodox scholars and poets, they were hardly new or unfamiliar. Ye Chang’s presentation of this was not met with resistance, but it dealt Wang Jin a heavy blow. Before Wang Jin could strategize a response, Wang Changling was already weeping, sobbing aloud.

“It is Ji Ling! It is indeed Ji Ling! None but Ji Ling could have written this!” he whispered.

Wang Changling had come with the brothers Wang Wei and Wang Jin, and in principle aligned with Wang Jin’s position. Yet, upon reading the lyrics and thinking of the late Wang Zhihuan, how could he help but break down in tears? This was a second heavy slap to Wang Jin.

“I was inspired by this matter and realized punctuation still has its use. The writing is splendid; if seen by those unfamiliar with punctuation, it might easily be mistaken for illiteracy,” Ye Chang deliberately repeated the phrase “illiterate and unskilled” that Wang Jin had used, then smiled: “Wang Xiaoqing, a renowned literary figure throughout the realm, would you agree?”

This was Ye Chang’s direct counterattack, a third heavy slap to Wang Jin.

Suddenly, Wang Jin understood the feeling Yuan Zai once had at the Buddhist pagoda in Qinglong Temple.

The problem when competing with Ye Chang was that you never knew what card he would play next.

This was the wisdom gained from Ye Chang’s experience spanning a thousand years of history.

“I have often heard tales of Ye the Eleventh’s dreamlike immortality. I once thought the rumors were false, but today, I find them true indeed! Brother Xiaoqing, you need not try any further!” Pei Di interjected to diffuse the tension.

Wang Wei paced anxiously, but being timid and lacking adaptability, he was no match for Pei Di, whose frank and lively nature allowed him to offer Wang Jin a graceful exit.

Although Wang Jin was still reluctant, unlike the reckless Yuan Zai, he glanced at Ye Chang’s half-smiling expression and knew he would have to swallow these three heavy slaps today.

Pei Di’s gracious move only let him retreat without losing face entirely. Once this incident spread, Wang Jin’s reputation would still suffer.

Pei Di smiled again: “Ye the Eleventh may not know that just the other day, Mo Jie, Brother Xiaoqing, Elder Shaobo, and I visited Qinglong Temple. There, we saw the Eleventh’s remarkable work and talked about his dreamlike immortality. My poor insight led me to deny it; I even promised Brother Xiaoqing that if I met the Eleventh, I would tease him. It was my idea; if the Eleventh is angry, he should punish me with a drink!” Hearing this, Ye Chang’s favor toward Pei Di grew immensely. Someone willing to sacrifice themselves for a friend always earns goodwill.

“Since Pei Qizhi said that, he shall be fined a drink. Am I such a limitless fellow?” Ye Chang feigned anger.

Those nearby who had witnessed Ye Chang’s repeated slaps on Wang Jin’s face thought him truly boundless, but with the atmosphere finally eased, no one sought to stir trouble.

After all, Princess Yuzhen sat nearby; if the quarrel angered her, no one would fare well.

“You are a marvelous man, Eleventh,” Princess Yuzhen laughed. “Pei Qizhi is also marvelous. Good, I shall have the palace musicians compose a melody and sing those alternating lines.”

With expert performers from the imperial pear garden and music master Wang Wei present, the composition was soon completed. When the singer finished, the lingering melody filled the air. Reminded of the late Wang Zhihuan, the guests felt a bittersweet melancholy.

“The tune is finished, but it lacks a name. Since the priestess is the host, please, priestess, grant this piece a title,” Ye Chang rose and bowed toward Princess Yuzhen.

Everyone inwardly scorned Ye Chang’s flattery. This tune, born of today’s incident, was sure to be remembered for generations. Whoever named it would have their name live on as well. Ye Chang’s suggestion was a subtle way to offer Princess Yuzhen a lasting literary legacy—an elegant gesture she naturally accepted. They envied her but also felt a twinge of regret, caught up in today’s events and the melody, failing to react sooner.

Princess Yuzhen pondered briefly: “Wang Ji Ling’s original lines were a poem from Liangzhou. I will change one word, replacing ‘Liangzhou poem’ with ‘Liangzhou immortal.’ Since Ye the Eleventh met an immortal in a dream and found Ji Ling’s lines, it seems fitting.”

Everyone applauded her boldness. Ye Chang had expected her to name it after her title—something like “Yuzhenzi”—but this showed her literary connections went beyond her rank.

“A toast!” someone said.

“A toast!”

Ye Chang raised his cup and drank with the others. With so many present, he kept the serious matters unsaid.

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Wang Changling repeatedly toasted him, likely reminiscing about old friends.

Without Wang Jin causing trouble, the atmosphere grew livelier, the courtyard seeming to bubble with excitement. Ye Chang did not join the revelry; strangers wary of his sharp tongue kept their distance, so his conversations were mostly with Du Fu and Wang Changling.

After a while, Ye Chang noticed Princess Yuzhen quietly leave, followed by Wang Wei’s departure.

Later, a servant came to summon Wang Jin.

Ye Chang smiled bitterly. Although he brought thousands of strings of cash to Princess Yuzhen each year, he could never compare to her old lover Wang Wei in her heart. So even though Ye Chang was the invited guest and Wang Wei the uninvited one, the princess still chose to meet Wang Wei first without hesitation.

What unsettled Ye Chang more was Wang Jin’s earlier hostility.

Though he had already taught Wang Jin a lesson, now that Wang Jin and Wang Wei were alone with Princess Yuzhen, it was easy to imagine Wang Jin spreading slanders.

As the host left, the festive mood gradually waned, leaving everyone somewhat awkward. Only after a long while did Princess Yuzhen reappear with a fresh makeup, summoning the pear garden performers for song and dance before the banquet ended.

But the Wang brothers never returned.

They surely had not left; if they had, Pei Di and Wang Changling would not have remained, and Princess Yuzhen would have settled them first.

Ye Chang pondered how Wang Jin might trouble him next when someone tugged his sleeve. Turning, he saw a servant beckoning him.

Understanding, Ye Chang followed the servant to a side chamber, where Princess Yuzhen reclined on a couch, two maidservants dressed as Taoist nuns massaging her back and feet. Despite her meticulous care, the faint weariness in her brow was unmistakable. Though well preserved, she was over fifty. The day’s festivities pleased her but left her tired.

Seeing Ye Chang, she did not sit fully upright but raised an eyebrow, and the weariness vanished, replaced by the poise of a mature woman.

She was a woman expertly wielding her charm and presence—like an ageless star from another lifetime’s cinema. Ye Chang silently admired her; she was a leading actress-level figure, and he grew wary.

Princess Yuzhen had never shown such allure before; he was not Wang Wei, nor was he interested in a woman past fifty!

“Eleventh, I hear you brought a band of barbarians with you this time?” she asked, narrowing her eyes with a smile after inviting him to sit.

“Indeed.”

“I heard the leader of these barbarians is a beautiful young lady?”

“She is young, but I wouldn’t say beautiful.”

“I heard that because of this beautiful lady, you had a dispute with the Jingzhao Prefecture, even orchestrated the resolution of a murder case outside Chunming Gate?” Though she claimed to be a recluse, Princess Yuzhen remained a woman of the world. Seeing Ye Chang’s youthful elegance, she couldn’t help but feel jealousy toward the young woman he focused on.

“From your perspective, who is more beautiful, me or that barbarian girl?”

This question sparked an idea in Ye Chang’s mind. He looked up at Princess Yuzhen and said, “In the far west, there is a kingdom whose ruler has a princess named Snow White because of her fair skin...”

Thus, the Tang version of Snow White was born.

This story had long been adapted and included in the “New Anecdotes,” although the book had sold poorly and thus remained little known.

Princess Yuzhen listened intently. After hearing the tale, she sighed deeply.

With Ye Chang’s adaptation and the Fang family’s polishing, the Tang version of Snow White better fit the era’s sensibilities, though the ultimate triumph of good over evil remained unchanged. Having experienced complex palace intrigues herself, Princess Yuzhen related deeply to Snow White’s plight, and her sigh reflected this.

“Therefore, I believe beauty and ugliness lie in the heart, not appearance. The priestess aids the sage ruler and guides the scholars—how could she compare to a barbarian girl?”

“You speak frankly. I am old and should not compete with that young lady in looks,” Princess Yuzhen rolled her eyes, seeing through Ye Chang’s true intent.

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Ye Chang felt awkward but resolutely denied it: “The beauties of our Great Tang are learned and refined, versed in music and poetry. How could they lose to an uncultured barbarian girl? Priestess, I—”

Princess Yuzhen waved her hand, and the screen behind her was drawn aside, revealing the young barbarian girl, Wei Niang, who looked at him with a complicated expression.

Ye Chang froze, realizing he had been tricked.

Wei Niang had come to Princess Yuzhen’s residence naturally, but was kept waiting outside, unaware she had been secretly summoned in.

Had Ye Chang truly been involved with Wei Niang, praising Princess Yuzhen’s beauty while disparaging Wei Niang as uncultured would surely provoke jealousy. This princess was truly formidable. Ye Chang thought to himself, then continued after recovering from his surprise, “I do not agree with the priestess’s words.”

“A hypocrite, a smooth talker,” Princess Yuzhen snorted, glancing at Wei Niang, who showed a wild, lively spirit and looked somewhat discontented. “If I were her age, I’m sure she wouldn’t surpass me!”

Ye Chang paid little attention to Princess Yuzhen’s sulking, instead focusing on the words she relayed from Wang Jin. It seemed the Wang brothers had not spared him when meeting with Princess Yuzhen.

But Ye Chang did not care. Princess Yuzhen was no fool. Without the earlier banquet conflict, these slanders might have had some effect. But with that confrontation, their impact was greatly diminished.

Otherwise, Princess Yuzhen would not have shared them with him.

“Take her away. I have some words to speak with the Eleventh,” Princess Yuzhen ordered.

A maid came to escort Wei Niang away. Wei Niang hesitated, perhaps intending to plead with the princess, but seeing Ye Chang signal her, she recalled the court proceedings at Jingzhao Prefecture. Then, unlike before when she ignored such signals to her own detriment, she bowed her head and left the side chamber as Ye Chang indicated.

“Eleventh, why did you bring this barbarian girl to see me?”

“To present a gift to the priestess,” Ye Chang smiled. “Have you noticed the fabric of her clothes?”

“White cotton cloth… Are you planning to trade white cotton fabric from the Six Zhaos into the Central Plains?”

“No, no, it’s about cultivating cotton plants, which are woven into white cotton fabric,” Ye Chang explained.

“Barbarians’ plants, but can they be grown in the Central Plains?” Princess Yuzhen’s sharp mind widened her eyes. “You know how to cultivate?”

“I do not cultivate, but the barbarians do,” Ye Chang said. “Though their climate differs from ours, cotton grows like grapes and can be planted here. In some places in the Central Plains and Jiangnan where mulberry and hemp harvests are poor, switching to cotton might clothe the world!”

“Heh heh…”

Princess Yuzhen smiled without comment.

Ye Chang suppressed his eagerness, knowing he was rushing. He composed himself and said sincerely, “Though the priestess is not of the mortal world, you remain of royal blood. All the people of the realm belong to you. If this crop benefits the people and spreads widely, it would be your merit.”

“And what do you propose?”

“The priestess has estates. Begin by selecting one or two to trial the planting. If successful, expand to counties and prefectures. If that succeeds, push it across the province—step by step until it reaches the whole realm.”

At this, Ye Chang held his breath, watching Princess Yuzhen to see if she would agree.

“A murder case there was, but no dispute with Jingzhao Prefecture, and certainly not because of a barbarian girl,” she said.

Ye Chang wondered why Princess Yuzhen, upon seeing him, avoided discussing the main matter and instead lingered on trivialities. Despite having lived two lives, he still did not fully understand women’s hearts. No woman is without jealousy; even over matters unrelated to herself, some are prone to anger without cause.