Joy of Life
A family inclined to kindness and charity would grace the descendants. Thanks to one small act of kindness, by providence she comes across a grateful friend; Fortunate that her mother, has done an unperceived good deed…. Men should rescue the distressed and aid the poor… Who would have guessed that kindness in this world ultimately would be the road that one must choose, that proverbial fork in the road? Clouds of rain float on eastern winds as new vines start to blossom. Though drums of war roar too loudly and their brilliance has been lost, a green grass carpet greets the sun by the break of morning. Let us wait for the yellow leaves, a few gourds are harvested.
Luminaries of the Ages
Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Hearing the final line, those gathered were puzzled. The poem had appeared in spring in the capital, and had spread throughout the land. Apart from the mention of the river that had made the readers uncomfortable, numerous poets had always assumed that nothing about this poem could be nitpicked. But the last four lines were the best part, and they were unsure why Zhuang Mohan felt otherwise.
"The reason the first four lines are the best," said Zhang Mohan coldly, "is not because the last four lines are not good, but because... the last four lines were not written by Master Fan!"
With these words, there was a great hubbub in the hall, which quickly turned to a deathly silence. No one said a word.
Fan Xian pretended to be stunned, but he understood many things. As things quietened down, he leant on a table, drunk, looking at Zhuang Mohan with a smile on his face.