Chapter 2: Father and Son

  After being tossed about like this, by the time I got out of bed and washed up, it was already high noon.

  Xiao Huan helped Gao Qiang tie his headscarf and asked, "Sir, will you have breakfast first or go pay your respects to the old master and then have breakfast with him?"

  Old man? That's Gao Qiu, alas. In Water Margin, this guy is a super big villain. In Peking Opera, he's always portrayed as a treacherous and corrupt official, it's not an exaggeration to say that he's the target of public criticism. But now, he's become his own cheap old dad, it's really frustrating no matter how you think about it.

  He thought deeply, but then he changed his mind and thought again. Now that he had inexplicably traveled to ancient times, if he hadn't become someone's adopted son, it would be a problem just eating meals, let alone talking about loyalty or treachery? Alright, first go see this big shot.

  As I stepped out, a gust of refreshing wind blew by, invigorating my spirits. It was already mid-spring, and the willow trees in the courtyard were beginning to sprout new buds. The tender green branches swayed gently in the breeze, exuding the essence of spring.

  Gao raised his head, gazing up at the azure sky, and let out a soft sigh: Is this really the sky of Northern Song? It looks so pure, like a fine piece of blue jade, clear to the point where it seems to be able to absorb people's hearts. I wonder if on that snowy night twenty years later, when the Jurchen iron cavalry trampled the city walls and rampaged through the million residents of Bianjing, burning, killing, looting, this sky would cry? Ha! What a mess of thoughts - even if the sky could cry, having witnessed the suffering of the common people over these twenty years, it's likely that its tears would have dried up long ago.

  "Master, Master!" The soft call from Xiao Huan's voice brought Gao Jian back to reality from his daydream. He smiled slightly and waved his hand, then headed towards the study where Gao Zhan usually stayed, following the memories left by his predecessor. Xiao Huan returned to her room.

  As soon as he arrived at the door of the study, he bumped into two burly men, wearing brocade robes, who smiled and greeted him: "The official is up early today, looks like you're in good spirits, did you sleep well last night?"

  Gao Qiang searched his mind for a moment and found that these two men were actually brothers, one named Dang Shiyin and the other named Dang Shiying, both of whom were trusted followers of Gao's father. They had already risen to the position of Tongzhi officials and usually treated him with great courtesy, smiling and laughing together. He cupped his hands in greeting and said: "Ah, you two are here early to pay respects to my father?"

  Before the two could respond, a loud laughter came from the study: "Qiang Er has arrived so early, come in quickly and let your father take a look."

  Gao Jianying responded with a "yes" and nodded at Er Dang before stepping into the study.

  The study is quite large, with tall bookshelves on all four walls that reach right up to the ceiling. At a glance, it seems like there are tens of thousands of books. Several floor-to-ceiling windows let in a gentle breeze, and a faint fragrance wafts through the room - it's unclear whether it's the scent of books or incense.

  Gao Jian hadn't had time to take a closer look when a tall, middle-aged man turned around from in front of the desk and chuckled: "Jian'er, it's rare for you to get up early today, but you're so spirited. I suppose you slept well last night and didn't have that strange dream?"

  "Ah, yes, I didn't have a nightmare last night." Of course not, your son has already run away! Gao Qiang said, stepping forward to pay his respects to Gao Jue, who hastily helped him up and ordered the book boy to serve breakfast.

  Gao Qiang stood beside the desk, inadvertently glanced at the calligraphy written by Gao Kui, and was shocked: Gao Kui's handwriting was actually very good! Although Gao Qiang didn't understand much about calligraphy, such as structure, ink density, and brushwork, he couldn't help but admire the more than 100 characters in front of him, which were written with bold strokes, rich ink, and a strong sense of connection.

  It's really amazing, as the saying goes: "As above, so below!" Just because the emperor liked calligraphy, Huizong's thin gold body calligraphy and flower-and-bird paintings are famous for thousands of years. As a result, scholars and officials in the court competed to learn from each other, not only were there four great masters Su, Huang, Mi, and Cai, but even this sycophant was good at writing. It's really embarrassing for me as a college student!

  Gao Zhan saw his son staring at his calligraphy and smiled while stroking his beard: "Qiang, what do you think of these few lines your father has written?"

  "Ah, good, really good!" But what's so good about it, he couldn't say a word! In his anxiety, Gao Gang hastily shifted the topic to the content: "A great 'Before worrying for the world, I worry'!" It was an excerpt from Fan Zhongyan's classic essay "The Memories of Yueyang Tower".

  He put down the wolf hair brush in his hand on the white jade pen wash, walked a few steps with his hands behind his back, and gazed at the sky outside the window, saying: "To worry before the world worries! With Wen Zhenggong's broad mind, I really admire him from afar, thinking about it day and night, often moved by my heart. In those years when I followed Wang Houwang to recover Qingtang and Huozhong, passing through various states of Shuoyan, an old soldier pointed out to me the merits of Wen Zhenggong in each place, and told stories of Wen Zhenggong's soothing of the Western Frontier, making the Xiamen people hear his name and lose their courage. Recalling the elegance of my predecessors, it really makes one's imagination run wild, with a heroic spirit rising in one's heart."

  Gao Qiu stood behind him, unable to utter a single word. If he hadn't heard it with his own ears, anyone who told him that the treacherous and corrupt official Gao Qiu would admire Fan Zhongyan so much would be beaten to death for lying. The gap between these two men was like heaven and earth, how could they ever be on the same level?

  Gao Zhan turned around and said, "Your father has always loved Wen Zhenggong's calligraphy, but unfortunately he was busy with military affairs all his life and had no time to write poetry or essays. There are not many of his writings that have been passed down, but the legacy remains to this day. The Xia people have not dared to invade our borders for decades, and the millions of soldiers and civilians in Xizhou owe their peace to Wen Zhenggong's kindness. Strong son, you

  Look at this verse again.

  Oh, you want me to practice calligraphy again? No way, it's not a pleasant experience. Gao Jiang thought to himself and quickly changed the subject: "Father, I've also memorized this poem by Su Shi, let me try to recite it."

  "In the distance, a loud voice recites: 'Azure clouds in the sky, yellow leaves on the ground. Autumn colors stretch across the waves, and cold mist rises from the surface. The mountains reflect the slanting sun, meeting the water at the horizon. Fragrant grasses are heartless, even more so beyond the slanting sun."

  A gloomy village, a wandering soul. Night after night, only good dreams let people sleep. The bright moon is high in the tower, alone and leaning on the railing. Wine enters my sorrowful intestines, transformed into tears of longing.

  This poem is a famous phrase that has been passed down for centuries, especially since it was written by Fan Zhongyan, a renowned minister. It's even more precious because of its origin. I only read it in high school, but to this day, it still feels like new, and I can recite it from memory without missing a single word.

  Gao Zhan listened with a nodding head and a smile on his face, delightedly saying: "My son, you've always been tired of reading poetry and books, how did you remember this verse?"

  "Ah, yes, that's right. I knew my father admired Wen Zhenggong, so I paid attention to it and picked up a few poems. Fortunately, not many of Wen Zhenggong's writings have been passed down, so I only remembered this one poem, but forgot the others." Gao Qiang almost choked, his face turning red with anger. He didn't expect that the former official would be so ignorant and uneducated, yet reciting a single poem by Su Shi would be considered a remarkable feat.

  To prevent Gao Zhan from reciting more poems, he hastily said: "With Father's literary talent, I should also learn some poetry to avoid disgracing Father's reputation."

  I thought that with a high hat lightly sent, Gao Yun would be overjoyed and praised, but unexpectedly came a cold laugh: "Hmph, literary talent? What's the use of even the best literary talent?"

  He turned around and took a few steps, saying: "In the past, when I was a young historian in Su Xun's mansion, Scholar Su was surprised by his extraordinary talent, a literary giant of his generation. The mansion was filled with poetry and music, it was truly a gathering of scholars, where every conversation was meaningful and every visit was worthwhile. There were even great heroes from the west, holding copper clappers, wearing hemp sandals and knives, singing about the great river flowing east. That's what I call literary talent! Unfortunately, the party struggle never ended, and when Zhang Dun became prime minister, he expelled Yuan You's faction and even suggested digging up the graves of Sima Guang and Wen Yanbo to flog their corpses. Although this proposal was stopped due to public outcry, Scholar Su couldn't avoid leaving the capital in dismay. His lifelong ambitions were all washed away by the river, it was truly a great river flowing east, with all its waves gone. What a tragic figure!" Although his tone was not overly excited, the anger and depression in his words were unmistakable.

  Gao Zong once again petrified: Gao Zong, this Gao Zong who was the target of a thousand pointing fingers, had actually been Su Shi's guest. That "clear wind comes, water waves do not rise" Su Shi, that "mountain high moon small, water falls stone out" Su Shi, that "people have joys and sorrows partings, moon has cloudy clear full deficiencies" Su Shi, that "brocade hat sable cloak, thousand riders roll flat ridge" Su Shi! At this moment, he felt more clearly than ever that the era he was in was the most brilliant cultural period of Northern Song in Chinese history.

  "When Su Xue left, he entrusted me to Wang Jin, the king's son-in-law. Later, I got to know King Duan, who is now the emperor. Ha! My father's rise to power wasn't due to his literary talent or military strategy, but because he spent two years playing cuju with King Duan. People in the streets scold me as a sycophant who usurped high office, what can I do? Even someone like Su Xue, with his literary talent, or Di Qing, with his martial prowess, what good end did they meet? It's better to be content with being this sycophant! Gao Cu's words, except for his son, probably no one else in the world knew. Behind the back of a man pointed at by thousands, was a heart that had seen through worldly affairs and wandered through officialdom."

  "Father……" The waves of emotions rose and fell like the tides. Gao Jiong had been rolling around in the official circles for many years, and he was naturally very clear about the key points and dangers involved. To assume a flattering attitude towards the emperor and control the military was indeed the best way to protect himself. However, if the imperial court had become so corrupt, could the great disaster that would occur twenty years later be resisted? He had really been led astray by others!

  After hastily eating his breakfast, Gao Zhan went to the White Tiger Hall to attend a meeting. Gao Qiang walked out of the inner courtyard and was met with a group of people who surrounded him, flattering him excessively, with one short, dark-skinned man being particularly nauseating in his speech.

  At first glance, they were a group of idle rascals in the mansion, following behind the official's back and relying on his power to bully others. The one with the purple face was indeed Fu An, Da Huan's older brother. By rights, this man who sold his wife and sister should be utterly shameless, and ought to be kicked flying with one foot. However, since he had already been "served" by Xiao Huan, this cheap uncle-in-law couldn't be treated too disrespectfully.

  The official scowled and said, "This official is in a bad mood today, don't bother me."

  All the idle men were stunned, but it wasn't the first time that the official had lost his temper. After all, it's a small-minded person's way of dealing with things. Although they shared similar tastes, turning against each other was nothing out of the ordinary. Fu An, who had some connection to the matter, hastily smiled and said: "Since the official is feeling annoyed, I have a good place to go that can help you clear your mind."

  "Oh? Tell me about it." Gao Jiang replied lazily.

  "Your Honor, today is the first day of the third month, and there are countless good men and women at Dasangguo Temple burning incense and fulfilling their vows. Moreover, many people have set up stalls to sell their wares and perform acrobatics and sing songs. Why don't you go out and have some fun?"

  "Hmm, that's a good suggestion." Gao Jiang was somewhat moved. It was rare to have the opportunity to come to the Song Dynasty, although there was a great disaster twenty years later. After all, it was a rare good opportunity to see the prosperity of the largest city in the world at that time, so he nodded and agreed.

  A group of idle men saw the official about to go out, and they all cheered and jumped for joy. They somehow found a few bird cages and carried them in their hands. Fu An even brought out a fan for Gao Qiang to hold. The group swarmed out of the door together, heading towards the Temple of the Great General.