Chapter 106: A Lone White Cloud Above the Distant Yellow River

"Mojie has brought me many guests." Princess Yuzhen graciously accepted Wang Wei's salute. Seeing the others follow suit, she rose gracefully and smiled, saying, "I am deeply gratified that you have all come to this secluded retreat of mine. Since we are beyond the reach of worldly affairs, let us dispense with these mundane formalities."

Ye Chang stood straight, offering his thanks along with the rest, though he couldn't help but scoff inwardly. If she truly wished to dispense with formalities, she should have said so the moment they arrived. To wait until everyone had already finished bowing was nothing more than a hollow gesture.

"And young Eleven is here as well... Mojie, seeing him reminds me of you back in the day." Princess Yuzhen looked at Ye Chang with a trace of admiration.

However, when she brought up the past, Wang Wei felt a bit awkward. After all, for a man of his talent, gaining fame by serving others with his appearance was hardly something to boast about.

Ye Chang raised his hands in a salute, but before he could speak, Wang Jin laughed from the side, "I beg to differ, Reverend."

"Oh?"

"Back then, my brother’s talent and literary skill were the finest of the era. Though not yet known to the world, he was like a phoenix chick hidden away, waiting only for the day he could land on the paulownia tree to stun the world with a single cry..." Wang Jin spoke eloquently, his demeanor poised and his voice clear and refined, making his words sound immediately persuasive.

Princess Yuzhen, reminded of events from over twenty years ago, looked at Wang Wei with softened eyes.

"But Ye Eleven is different. He is already burdened with great fame, stirring the hearts of emperors and ministers above, and startling the hawkers and commoners below..."

Ye Chang raised an eyebrow. On the surface, Wang Jin seemed to be praising him, but why did he sense a sting of sarcasm beneath the words?

"My brother excels in arts and literature; his pipa playing is rare in this age. Ye Eleven excels in business; the profits from his football games are enough to rival a nation..." Wang Jin continued, though as he mentioned the wealth brought by the football games, he paused and swallowed hard. His gaze shifted, revealing his true colors.

Wang Jin, much like Yuan Zai, was obsessed with wealth. Seeing the massive profits from the football games, he assumed that Ye Chang, the mastermind behind it all, must be immensely rich.

"My brother is a master of prose, his every word cherished by nobles and scholars. Ye Eleven, while clever, lacks literary refinement. That is why he distorts history to create these 'novels' for the amusement of the marketplace. For the Reverend to compare my brother to Ye Eleven is a grave mistake."

At this point, Wang Jin’s hostility was laid bare. He had always believed that Ye Chang’s control over the Chang'an football league was only possible through the influence of Princess Yuzhen. If he could win over the Princess and take control of the league himself, he could reap even greater rewards. His pretext for bringing Wang Changling and Pei Di to the Princess’s villa was merely a cover for his true objective: the football games. Of course, as an official and a scholar, he would never manage it openly; he intended to pull the strings from the shadows, just as he believed Ye Chang was doing.

Ye Chang was unaware of these motives, but he was not the type to suffer an attack in silence. Even if it had been Wang Wei himself, Ye Chang would have slapped back without hesitation. What did being a "Poet Buddha" matter? In an age where the Poet Immortal and the Poet Sage stood tall, was a Poet Buddha truly so rare? Wang Wei, at least, was gentle and thick-skinned, perhaps even a bit weak—which was likely why he could never keep his brother in check.

"Eleven, do you have anything to say?" Princess Yuzhen asked.

"Why should I have anything to say?" Ye Chang asked curiously.

"Surely you wish to refute Xiaqing's words?"

It was clear that Princess Yuzhen wanted to see a heated debate between them.

"When I was young, I had a fiery temper and would often argue with others. The elders of my clan once advised me never to fight with people," Ye Chang said with a smile. "I replied, 'If others slander me, I must fight back.' Do you know, Reverend, how the elder answered me?"

Princess Yuzhen looked intrigued. "Please, tell me."

"The elder said, 'It is natural for a mad dog to bite. If a man is bitten by a mad dog, should he turn around and bite the dog back?'"

"Ye Eleven!"

Wang Jin was furious. Was he not being called a mad dog?

Wang Wei, standing nearby, sighed helplessly and raised his hands to both sides. "Let us not damage the harmony here... Xiaqing, you are the elder; how can you speak to Master Ye in such a way? And Master Ye, my brother only has a short temper..."

He tried to mediate, but neither side would budge.

Wang Jin, emboldened by his brother’s standing with the Princess, turned to her and said, "Reverend, take heed. What this man practices is nothing but the sophistry of Gongsun Long—that a white horse is not a horse. He is ignorant and unlearned. That 'Illustrated Romance of the Three Kingdoms' was concocted by him alone. Not only does he spout nonsense and twist history, but he spreads fallacies and confuses right from wrong!"

What a heavy accusation! Ye Chang touched his head, as if Wang Jin's words were piling imaginary hats upon him.

Wang Jin knew Ye Chang was articulate, so he didn't wait for a reply. He caught his breath and continued, "He is merely a man of cockfights and cricket matches. It is already a heaven-sent grace that he was allowed into your villa, yet he dares to utter such poisonous words in your presence, offending your ears. Just as he dared to invent punctuation marks in his Three Kingdoms story to disrupt the traditional structure of writing!"

Ye Chang took a breath. He hadn't expected that his popular *Illustrated Romance of the Three Kingdoms* would become a source of such resentment. He realized that a significant part of Wang Jin’s opposition stemmed from the punctuation marks he had introduced. While Wang Jin didn't mention the horizontal printing, the punctuation was a different matter—it implied a right to interpret the classics. Any sensitive scholar would recognize the gravity of that.

"You scoundrel, will you not withdraw?"

Having vented his grievances, Wang Jin flicked his sleeves and pointed at Ye Chang. The villa was filled with many scholars and literati attending the banquet. Perhaps swayed by Wang Jin’s words, a sense of collective indignation rose among them. As Wang Jin flicked his sleeves, they followed suit, shouting in unison, "You scoundrel, will you not withdraw?"

Ye Chang took a third breath. Just as he stepped forward to speak, a man beside him strode ahead, his voice firm and clear: "Wang Xiaqing, you are mistaken!"

It was Du Fu. Amidst the scorn of the crowd, he stood up and took his place beside Ye Chang! He had been silent since entering, appearing stoic and unassuming. Ye Chang had not expected the future Poet Sage to defend him; in such circumstances, even keeping his distance would have required courage. Yet, when Ye Chang was about to face the crowd alone, Du Fu stood with him.

Since Du Fu had spoken, Ye Chang held his tongue. Du Fu took a breath and continued, "I have not known Ye Eleven for long, but I know him to be a man of both virtue and talent, far beyond the common sort. In virtue, he follows the path of self-cultivation in poverty and aiding the world in success. Though he lived in seclusion in Wolong Valley, the people of Xiuwu and Wuzhi counties received countless blessings from him. Even strangers from afar have heard of his virtue and sought his counsel when faced with injustice..."

"As for talent, though Ye Eleven’s poems are few, his verses on Fengling Ferry and the Qinglong Temple Pagoda, along with his 'Inscription on My Humble Abode,' are already famous throughout the land. Before I entered, I heard someone in this very courtyard singing, 'The sunset is infinitely beautiful.' Is this the work of an unlearned man, as you claim, Xiaqing?"

After defending his talent and virtue, Du Fu shifted his tone. "Ye Eleven has a playful nature, and in his *Three Kingdoms* story, he may treat history as play, but he speaks of loyalty and righteousness within the common tongue. He promotes virtue and rejects vice—how can this be called 'spreading fallacies'? Could it be that loyalty, justice, and benevolence are themselves fallacies?"

Wang Jin let out a muffled grunt, looking at Du Fu with surprise. Du Fu’s fame had not yet spread, and he was not widely known, leaving Wang Jin baffled as to where Ye Chang had found such an ally. Not only was his rhetoric sharp, but his logic was impenetrable, turning the tide of the argument and forcing Wang Jin to defend his own absurd claims.

Ye Chang couldn't help but clap internally, thinking, "Splendid!" His view of Du Fu changed instantly; he was no longer just the distant, revered Poet Sage, but a true friend with a noble spirit.

However, Wang Jin was not one to retreat. His public provocation suggested a deeper agenda.

"Du Zimei, why do you avoid the issue of punctuation?" Wang Jin pressed. "A great deceiver must have a great disguise. Ye Eleven feigns loyalty and virtue, but he hides a treacherous heart. Today he twists history, tomorrow he will use his punctuation to subvert the true meaning of the classics!"

Ye Chang could only scratch his head. The people of the Tang Dynasty were far from foolish—they were incredibly shrewd. The elderly He Zhizhang had seen through his purpose, and now Wang Jin had as well! Many scholars likely saw his intent but were holding back, waiting for him to make a move so they could strike him down. Wang Jin, for his own reasons, had simply jumped the gun.

Ye Chang quickly deduced Wang Jin’s motives. The only missing piece was the ultimate goal of all this vitriol. As for the punctuation, Du Fu could not defend him; they had argued about it before, with Ye Chang’s excuses about readability failing to convince even him.

Ye Chang smiled and said, "Since you ask, Xiaqing, I will tell you the truth."

The room fell silent, all eyes fixed on Ye Chang. Even Princess Yuzhen felt as if the focus of the gathering had shifted to this young man before them.

"Once, I had a dream..."

At these words, everyone couldn't help but smile. It was well-known that Ye Chang attributed all his literary works to dreams. Many thought it a ruse, while others wondered if it were true.

"In that dream, I heard several men drinking in a tavern. One of them said this scene reminded him of a time he drank with friends at a tavern in Qiting..."

Wang Changling, who had been sitting, stood up abruptly!

Ye Chang bowed to him and continued, "He said he was drinking with Wang Gong Shaobo and Gao Gong Daofu. When the singers came to perform, the three of them stepped aside and made a wager on whose poem would be sung most often..."

This was a famous anecdote. Wang Zhifuan, Wang Changling, and Gao Shi had once visited a tavern and bet on whose poetry the courtesans would sing. Wang Zhifuan, seeing that his own poems were not chosen, pointed to the most beautiful singer and bet that if she didn't sing his poem, he would never discuss poetry with his friends again. If she did, they would have to become his students. Sure enough, the beauty sang Wang Zhifuan’s, "The Yellow River climbs high among the white clouds..."

As Ye Chang recounted the story, Wang Changling’s eyes welled with tears. The crowd looked on in amazement, wondering if the tale were true.

"It must be Jiling! It is Jiling!" Wang Changling murmured.

"How do we know this scoundrel isn't just spouting nonsense to bewitch us!" Wang Jin interjected.

Ye Chang ignored him, saying calmly, "I am but a man of common vision and do not know if the speaker was truly Wang Jiling. But he said that he had slightly revised the poem and wished to write it down for Master Shaobo to see."

Princess Yuzhen signaled for brush and paper. Ye Chang, having practiced diligently under masters like Zhang Xu and Yan Zhenqing, wrote with increasing confidence. He finished the line: "...The Yellow River climbs high among the white clouds, a lonely city stands amid the ten-thousand-foot mountains. Why must the Qiang flute complain of the willow? The spring wind never crosses the Jade Gate Pass..."

He set down the brush, and a hush fell over the room.

"Ye Eleven is indeed unlearned, as this proves!" Wang Jin said slowly. "Even the poem of Wang Jiling, he has butchered and forgotten!"

Du Fu signaled to Ye Chang, who seemed oblivious.

"Why, Master Xiaqing, you say I am wrong? Where exactly is the error?"

"Ha! You don't even know... look at it again!"

After writing "white clouds," Ye Chang had missed the character "jiān" (among/in)!

Wang Jin walked over, pointed at the paper, and laughed. In his eyes, Ye Chang should have been flushed with embarrassment.