Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Scholarly Spirit

Li Yi cleared his throat. "First, regarding the matter of the fans: not long ago, when I discovered my true heritage, I wanted to present my grandfather with a gift. After much consideration, I found that making a fan would be the simplest and easiest, so I crafted seven. One I gave to Grandfather, one to Uncle, one to His Majesty, and I kept one for myself. Of the remaining three, two have already found their owners, so now I have only one left! My uncles need not be anxious—soon fans will be available for sale in the market. It is only early spring; there is plenty of time! Second, as for the poetry, I studied under a master on Mount Mao and learned some verses from a young age, so I have a little talent for it. However, I am still young, and to compose these lines, I had to rack my brain! Third, regarding calligraphy, I truly have nothing more to say. From childhood, I have loved calligraphy and devoted the most effort to it; thus, I can write in such a hand. As for the names of the scripts: the upright and dignified style is called 'Regular Script'; the flowing and graceful style is 'Running Script.' Both are forms of standard script, adapted from the works of the Sage of Calligraphy, Wang Xizhi—one more formal, one more casual. That is all I have to say. Is there anything else my uncles would like to ask?"

The crowd exchanged glances, all wearing expressions of deep admiration.

"A genius who appears but once in a century! Truly deserving of the title 'Jade Qilin'!"

"Indeed! Could an ordinary person accomplish such things?"

"Ah! The new generation replaces the old!"

Basking in a sea of praise, Li Yi felt as if every pore of his body was opening up in delight. Just then, he heard a gentle voice drift over.

"Haha! The reputation of the Jade Qilin, Li Wenyong, is well-deserved. My eyes have been opened. Brother Yi, I am Li Yuanchang. I, too, greatly love calligraphy—would you be willing to share your insights with me sometime?"

Li Yi glanced at the speaker—a young man of about twenty, dressed in luxurious attire, strikingly handsome with a hint of otherworldliness. His tone seemed mild, yet an undercurrent of arrogance was unmistakable. For reasons unknown, Li Yi sensed a faint hostility from this Prince Han, Li Yuanchang; though subtle, Li Yi, trained in martial arts, could still perceive it.

Li Yi kept his expression unchanged and calmly replied, "So it is Your Highness, Prince Han. It is my honor that my humble work pleases you. As for exchanging insights, I do not dare claim such skill; it is merely a matter of learning together."

Li Yuanchang smiled faintly. "Good! Then, another day, I shall host a banquet at my residence. Do not fail to attend, Brother Yi, or I will be thoroughly embarrassed!"

"Your Highness jests. At your word, I shall come at once."

"Excellent! I look forward to welcoming you, Brother Yi." With a smile, Li Yuanchang fell silent.

...

After Li Yuanchang stopped speaking, Li Yi began to ponder the prince. He was certain he had never met Li Yuanchang before, nor had any dealings with him. So why the animosity?

"Could it be...?" Just as a possible explanation occurred to Li Yi, the voice he disliked most rang out.

"Yi, my boy, Old Cheng here wants to buy your remaining fan. Name your price!"

"Cheng, you old scoundrel! How can such an object be measured in gold or silver? You... you insult the literati!"

"Literati? Is that worth money? I don't care, I just want the fan!"

"Dear nephew, don't listen to that old rogue. Give me the fan, and you may take anything from my household—anything at all!"

"Dear nephew..."

...

A new round of bickering erupted; curses flew, and spittle filled the air. Li Yi could only inwardly mock them—these men were supposed to be national leaders? Their manners were worse than the hooligans of the new century! Even those ruffians know to wear a suit and tie—no matter what’s beneath, at least the surface looks proper! Just look at these men, quarreling like fishwives on the street.

"Enough!" At Li Yi’s shout, the hall fell instantly silent, as if everyone had been waiting for his word. Li Yi suddenly realized—they were doing this on purpose! "Uncles, I think all this arguing is no solution. Here’s what I propose: I will hand the fan over to His Majesty, and let him decide its fate. I will have no complaints!"

With that, Li Yi took the fan from his breast and handed it to Li Er, without caring whether the emperor wanted it or not.

Li Er took the fan, finding it hot to the touch—this was no fan, but a stick of dynamite!

"Since that’s the case, I’ll keep the fan here with me. When the time is right, I’ll decide its owner."

Seeing their chance was gone, everyone abandoned their schemes and instantly regained their dignified and serious demeanor. The transformation was so rapid, Li Yi could barely keep up!

But Cheng Yaojin was not so easily satisfied. His eyes rolling, he had a new idea. "Dear nephew, might I have a look at your fan?"

Li Yi warily stepped back. "I came in a hurry today and didn’t bring it."

"Really?"

Seeing the sly look in Cheng Yaojin’s eyes, Li Yi’s hair stood on end. He looked pleadingly at Li Er for help, but the emperor merely cleared his throat and looked away. Li Yi was utterly desperate. With trembling hands, he took out his most cherished fan, squeezed his eyes shut, and ruthlessly pushed it toward Cheng Yaojin.

Cheng Yaojin seized the fan and snapped it open with a flourish, making Li Yi’s heart leap with fear. The paper of the Tang Dynasty was not as sturdy as that of later ages, and with Cheng Yaojin’s strength, Li Yi worried the fan would not survive such rough handling.

As Cheng Yaojin unfolded the fan, everyone crowded around. Upon it, in elegant running script, were two lines:

A chest filled with letters, humble as a valley;
A belly full of poetry, a spirit that shines!

"To have a heart filled with knowledge and humility, and a mind enriched with poetry—such words strike deep into the soul of every scholar!"

"Indeed! Li Wenyong is truly a prodigy!"

"The Li family has its own qilin!"

The crowd buzzed with admiration. Cheng Yaojin, however, was bewildered. He was a rough man and could barely understand the verses; he only wanted the fan to look cultured. What 'a chest filled with letters'—wouldn’t that soak your shirt? And who puts books in their belly—wouldn’t that be uncomfortable? A bunch of lunatics!

As the others continued to appraise and praise the fan, Cheng Yaojin grew impatient. With a flick, he turned the fan over, revealing four bold characters in standard running script:

The Spirit of the Scholar!

"What splendid words! These four characters are the essence of scholarship!"

"Beautiful—both the calligraphy and the words themselves!"

"Indeed! A priceless treasure!"

The scholars looked at each other and saw greed reflected in each other's eyes.

Cheng Yaojin was basking in the praise for 'his' fan, but suddenly, it was snatched from his hands. Startled, he looked up to see Li Yi had reclaimed it once more.