For her, Su Qiao's image represented a large number of pedantic scholars, such as the few who were now gathered on the deck of the passenger ship, trying to appear cultured.
"The wind breaks through the dawn."
"The moon casts a clear frost."
"Wonderful! Haha..." Then came another round of applause and cheers.
Ban Lan glanced out the window. It was broad daylight; where was the moon? That's ridiculous!
She held the bamboo chopsticks in her hand and kept poking at the white rice in the bowl, but she had no appetite at all.
Outside the boat, a few scholars wearing Confucian caps gathered, reciting poems and composing couplets. After a few flattering remarks, a few cheers rose again, making Ban Lan dizzy and disoriented.
Taking a boat south back to Yumu Valley was definitely not a good choice. Ban Lan threw down her chopsticks, deciding she had no appetite left. She leaned back lazily in her chair, her bored gaze circling the cabin.
The passenger ship was large, and several tables were set up in the cabin for guests to drink tea and have meals. Apart from Ban Lan, three or four tourists were sitting sparsely at the other tables.
The noise outside the window started again.
A gust of autumn wind swept away the fallen petals.
"His clothes were soaked with fragrant sweat."
"Hahaha... Brother Ziji, why does your second line have such a strong 'rouge' flavor?"
"Nonsense! Brother Ziji, how could an ordinary person compose such a couplet with the flavor of rouge?"
Ban Lan felt a chill run down her spine upon hearing this.
Ban Lan's academic knowledge wasn't particularly outstanding, but she had many fellow students who were exceptionally talented in literature. While she might not be able to distinguish between good and bad examples, she could certainly understand the meaning behind couplets.
"A flock of geese flew by in the sky."
The first line of the couplet was uttered, but before anyone could respond, a crisp shout suddenly rang out from inside the boat—
"Half a roast goose is crawling on the ground!"
Everyone was stunned, and before they could react, half a roast goose, its skin crispy and its meat tender, flew out and landed sprawling on the deck. Then, a boy dressed in coarse cloth clothes jumped out.
The boy had fair skin, delicate features, and a slender build.
The scholars looked at the roast goose on the ground, then at the young man, wondering if he had thrown it there.
Ban Lan, dressed in men's clothing, stood with his hands on his hips at the bow of the boat, tilted his head, and said, "How's your second line, sir?"
"vulgar!"
"mediocre!"
"Completely lacking in literary talent!"
Ban Lan gritted his teeth, "Then what makes a good couplet?"
A tall, thin young man immediately said, "Your second line has absolutely no artistic conception..."
Before the word "no" could be uttered, everyone's vision blurred as they saw the half-eaten roast goose on the ground somehow being stuffed into the young man's mouth.
Anyone with eyes could see that Ban Lan knew martial arts, and several people immediately fell silent. The remaining few, oblivious to the danger, continued to point and gesture, but Ban Lan used his lightness skill to deliver a resounding slap to each of them in the blink of an eye.
Seeing this, the young man reluctantly spat out the roast goose and didn't dare to look at Ban Lan.
Ban Lan chuckled inwardly. She had been feeling down all along, and now that a mischievous thought had suddenly popped into her head, she was determined not to let it go easily.
"Alright, I'll give you the first line of a couplet, and you can give me the second line. Let me see your literary talent. If you can't come up with a matching line, you can eat that roast goose." Ban Lan pointed to the roast goose, which was already smeared black and dirty.
Everyone's stomachs churned, and they quickly looked away from the roast goose. Secretly, however, they were secretly delighted: this callow youth, spouting vulgarities, probably couldn't read many characters, let alone compose couplets.
Ban Lan snorted coldly, turned around, faced the river, and said, "Listen carefully, the first line is—"
Everyone immediately focused their attention.
"To hell with the silence—"
The river flowed on, leaving no trace as the boats passed. Only Ban Lan's clear shout lingered on the river's surface, never fading away.
Everyone remained in the same position as before, listening intently with their ears perked up, each one as still as a wax figure.
Ban Lan slowly turned around.
For some reason, after scolding Cen Ji, she suddenly felt great and burst into laughter for no apparent reason.
Her smile left the scholars even more bewildered.
A scholar in a gray robe was the first to react, thinking that Ban Lan was proud of his difficult first line of the couplet, so he quickly clapped his hands and exclaimed, "An absolute masterpiece for all time! An absolute masterpiece for all time!"
Ban Lan's scalp twitched involuntarily. Without thinking, she spread her fingers and slapped the gray-robed man's face: "I hate sycophants the most!"
Then, she swaggered up to the tall, thin young man and poked him.
"Are you mute?" Ban Lan feigned impatience.
The young man's face resembled a wax stick baked by the scorching sun; the expression he had put together gradually melted away, his eyebrows and the corners of his eyes slowly drooped, and finally even the corners of his mouth drooped down.
"Young master, are you sure this is the first line of a couplet?"
"Stop spouting nonsense!" Ban Lan suddenly felt as if he had returned to the past, back to the days before he was ten years old when he was cursing with a group of beggars. Although he would occasionally have blood streaming down his face from his nose, the pain was only physical, not emotional.
A slight smile played on her lips.
Yes, this is my true face. If you don't like it, then get lost.
Ban Lan reached out and patted the young man's shoulder slowly, drawing out her words in a low voice: "If you can't match it—"
The tune was so long that the young man's legs went weak, and even his eyelids trembled.
"—Then forget it." After saying that, Ban Lan stuck out her tongue and smiled mischievously, her smile as bright as a summer flower.
Everyone's jaws dropped in astonishment: "Huh?!"
Having teased them enough, Ban Lan stretched, turned around, put his hands behind his back, and swaggered into the cabin, leaving all the scholars to fend for themselves.
As soon as Ban Lan stepped into the cabin, she felt four strange gazes directed at her.
She turned her head and saw two men sitting at the table in the corner staring straight at her.
Ban Lan has a habit: if anyone stares at her intently, she will glare back.
Ban Lan stopped and stood motionless at the doorway, glaring back at the two people in the corner.
The two men in the corner were a burly, strong man with a slightly dark complexion, around forty years old, and a well-dressed man with a fair complexion and a light beard, nearing thirty.
Ban Lan thought to herself, "The pale-faced man is more pleasing to the eye."
She slightly raised her face, her expression abrupt, her eyes defiant, and looked directly at the pale-faced man.
After a moment, the pale-faced man spoke:
"Girl, you're blocking our view."
Ban Lan blushed and turned around to see a painting of a lady hanging next to the cupboard behind her.
Ban Lan shifted her feet awkwardly. "Ahem...you guys, keep watching."
She left hurriedly with her head down.
Wait, that pale-faced man called her... "Miss"?
Ban Lan unconsciously looked down at her men's attire and touched her hair, which was piled up without any flaws.
"Do you know me?" she turned and questioned.
The pale-faced man exchanged a glance with his friend and laughed, "These days, people in the martial arts world who haven't heard of Miss Ban's name probably don't have as many peanuts as I have on my plate."
Ban Lan glanced at the few peanuts left on his face and asked, "Why?"
"Why? When Miss Ban smashed wine jars and kicked chairs at Miss Wen's wedding banquet, it really opened my eyes." The pale-faced man said, half teasing and half disdainfully, "I think this men's clothing suits you quite well. Why don't you dress like this when you go out in the future to avoid being recognized and becoming a laughingstock."
Ban Lan replied, "Twenty years from now, who will remember who I, Ban Lan, am? Let them laugh if they want."
The pale-faced man was stunned; he never expected Ban Lan to be so indifferent.
Ban Lan returned to her desk, and as soon as she sat down, she leaned half her body on the desk and buried her head in her arms.
I'm so tired. So incredibly tired...
If you're too exhausted to even think about your own affairs, who cares what the world says?
Moreover, when a person lives, is it for themselves or for the world?
Ban Lan shifted her head, found a more comfortable position, and fell into a deep sleep...
Wei Li
one,
Fang Huo is a swordsman.
Moreover, Fang Huo was the best swordsman among Wei Li's six disciples.
Because among Wei Li's disciples, he was the only one who wielded a sword.
Fang Huo was also a sword fanatic.
He was so obsessed with swords that he was keen on collecting all kinds of famous swords and sword manuals, which he did tirelessly and spent all his money on.
He bought a black iron blunt sword from a friend the day before yesterday. It is said to be an incomplete sword that a sword-making master in the martial arts world did not finish making before his death a hundred years ago.
Fang Huo was obsessed with this sword. After finally persuading his friend to sell it to him, he would wake up laughing in his dreams for several days in a row.
So this is the fourth time he's woken up laughing.
He sat up in bed, thought it over and over, and decided that he would sleep with his Xuan Tie sword in his arms, as that would make him feel more at ease.