Chapter 122: A False Alarm

At that moment, Gou Ye’s mind was racing, unsure how to respond. Since the emperor already knew him so well, fabricating some story about learning poetry from a master or finding verses somewhere would surely be seen through. It was better to boldly tell the truth.

So Gou Ye deliberately raised his voice and declared, “Your Majesty, I humbly report that this poem is my own creation. Though I was never formally taught from childhood, I learned much from the books the village chief provided me. I have always had a special fondness for poetry and literature, which perhaps explains why I was able to compose this poem.”

The emperor narrowed his eyes, his expression grave as he regarded Gou Ye, speaking softly, “I’ll give you one more chance. Tell the truth.”

Could it be that I’ve said something wrong? Or does the emperor even know how many books the village chief gave me? The more Gou Ye thought, the more fearful he became. But if he went back on his word now, wouldn’t that be a betrayal? He might as well see it through.

Without hesitation, Gou Ye knelt down with a thud, prostrating himself fully, and said loudly, “Your Majesty, every word I have spoken is true. If there is a single lie, I submit myself to your punishment.”

Nearly five minutes passed without a sound from the emperor. Though it was only five minutes, to Gou Ye it felt like five hours. Lying there on the ground, his back soaked with sweat, he finally heard the emperor’s calm voice, “Very well, then I shall test you. Tell me if you are truthful or not. The Mid-Autumn Festival is approaching. Compose another poem on this theme before me.”

Mid-Autumn? Gou Ye exhaled quietly, relief flooding him. Fortunately, the emperor chose Mid-Autumn as the theme. Had it been the palace, the imperial study, or even about the emperor himself, he wouldn’t have been able to come up with anything.

He then asked, “Your Majesty, may I stand to recite? Lying here, my mind cannot keep up.”

The emperor smiled faintly. “Very well, I allow you to stand and recite. You have half an hour.”

“No need, Your Majesty.” Gou Ye responded, then began loudly reciting:

“When will the bright moon appear? With a cup of wine in hand, I ask the blue sky. I do not know what year it is tonight in the celestial palaces above. I wish to ride the wind and return there, yet fear the crystal towers and jade chambers are too cold at such heights. Rising to dance with my clear shadow, how unlike the mortal world! Turning past the vermilion pavilions, lowering the carved windows, the moonlight shines upon sleeplessness. There should be no resentment; why is the moon always full at parting times? People have sorrows and joys, partings and reunions; the moon waxes and wanes, this has been hard to perfect since ancient times. May we all live long and share the beauty of the moon, even a thousand miles apart.”
— Su Shi, “Prelude to Water Melody: When Will the Moon be Clear and Bright?”

As Gou Ye finished, the emperor applauded repeatedly, while Gou Ye wiped the sweat from his brow, grateful that this poem was not composed in this era, or else he might have struggled to produce suitable lines about Mid-Autumn.

In the emperor’s eyes, Gou Ye was indeed an extraordinary talent. Regardless of all else, the ability to compose poetry so skillfully won the emperor’s deep admiration. This poem, a famous classic, was brilliant line after line. Turning to the eunuch Bai Gonggong, the emperor said, “Bai Gonggong.”

“At your service!” Bai Gonggong bowed.

“Quickly fetch brush and ink. Copy the poem Gou Ye just recited. I want to show this to my princes during the Mid-Autumn Festival, so they may learn what true literary talent is. Also, when you escort Gou Ye out of the palace, visit Yueyang Tower and copy another poem he wrote. I want to show that to the princes as well.”

Hearing this, Bai Gonggong bowed again. “I will bring paper and pen at once and ensure a copy of the Yueyang Tower poem is presented to Your Majesty.”

Seeing the emperor’s suddenly pleasant demeanor, Gou Ye felt much more at ease. The emperor then said to him, “Very good. Today I believe you. I hope you will compose many more fine works in the future. Any poems you write may be presented in the palace. I grant you this token. With it, you may enter the palace at any time to see Bai Gonggong. He will present your works to me.”

Bai Gonggong took a token from the emperor and handed it to Gou Ye. Gou Ye held it with both hands and said loudly, “Thank you for Your Majesty’s grace. Gou Ye will continue to strive and compose more fine works for Your Majesty’s reading.”

The emperor nodded approvingly and asked, “I hear you will also take the imperial examination next year?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Good. Prepare well. With your talent, I believe you will have no problems. When the time comes, I will personally await you in the Hall of Supreme Harmony to confer your rank.”

Upon hearing this, Gou Ye wisely knelt again, repeatedly thanking the emperor. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Bai Gonggong finished copying the poem and was ordered to escort Gou Ye out.

Stepping outside, gazing at the blue sky and white clouds, Gou Ye suddenly felt an immense sense of freedom. To live well and behold such beauty was truly a blessing. Only now did he realize that meeting the emperor in reality was nothing like the ease portrayed in dramas. When the emperor had pressed him, his heart had leapt into his throat, as if the next moment he would be seized and executed. He touched his neck, thankful to still be alive.

Seeing this, Bai Gonggong chuckled. “Let’s go, Master Gou.”

As they left the palace, Gou Ye finally felt truly relaxed. Bai Gonggong said, “Master Gou, I was really sweating for you just now. You were tough—when the emperor pressed you so hard, you didn’t yield. You think the emperor didn’t know? Let me tell you, His Majesty’s mind is as clear as a mirror. He knows perfectly well if the poems are yours. But you are fortunate—the emperor respects those with a strong will. You didn’t break, and even managed to recite another poem under pressure. Though we don’t know where your poems come from, at least you recited them well, and that made the emperor very pleased. Had you shown any sign of weakness, you might not be walking out of the palace intact right now.”

Hearing this, Gou Ye felt a genuine chill run down his spine. Indeed, the imperial authority was unfathomable. Though the emperor knew the truth, he chose not to expose it—thankfully, his temperament was not like Zhu Yuanzhang’s.

Gou Ye then said, “Thank you, Bai Gonggong, for your frank counsel. Gou Ye bows deeply to you.”

With that, he bowed profoundly to the eunuch.