WMSG Chapter 10
by VolareServants refilled everyone’s wine cups. The host, Gong Xuyin, took on the role of the first wine game master, standing up to grab a bamboo slip canister. TheTàizǐ, Crown Prince drew a slip and handed it to Gong Xuyin.
Ye Yueshen’s gaze was somewhat unfocused. Gong Shengyin noticed his restlessness and softly said to him, “If you don’t do well, it’s just a cup of wine. If you can’t drink it, I’ll drink it for you.”
Ye Yueshen wasn’t comforted. He wasn’t afraid of drinking, but of losing face, and wondered if this matter would be reported back to the Ye family.
“Holding Regret…” Gong Xuyin’s expression changed slightly. He tossed the bamboo slip out the window with a flick of his wrist. The Prince stared at the scene outside the window, looking somewhat dazed.
Gong Xuyin scolded the servant, “How dare you put such a broken slip in the canister?”
The Prince nonchalantly said, “Holding Regret in the Yellow Springs? It’s just a drinking game. Pick it back up.”
Ye Yueshen’s eyelashes trembled, and he subconsciously looked at Gong Shengyin beside him. Gong Shengyin was also looking at him, his eyes seeming to contain the warmth of spring water.
The Prince then randomly drew another bamboo slip from the second canister. Gong Shengyin took it and read, “Telling of Affection, also make ‘Peach Blossom Water’.”
“Simple clothes and hemp skirts weary the innocent, yet you still show me love.” The Prince took a sip of wine, placing his other hand on the table. He seemed somewhat drunk: “Weak brother relies on youth, eagerly selling himself. A slave’s life is cheap, bones scattered, life bleak. Red candles weep, not for a lover, never seeing the morning sun.”
The Third Prince loudly cheered, “Wonderful, wonderful!”
Ye Yueshen listlessly retracted his arms, making a slight clapping motion before casually lowering them again.
Gong Xuyin’s flattery was obviously more professional: “The word ‘weary’ is extremely clever! It both says that simple clothes and hemp skirts don’t diminish a woman’s beauty, but instead add to her purity, and it also speaks of a poor family, weighed down by burdens. A double meaning, truly wonderful!”
Ye Yueshen couldn’t help but glance at the Prince, wondering if he would show a hint of shame in this position of absolute praise.
Gong Xunwu wasn’t interested in anyone’s poetry, but Ye Yueshen seemed very interested, even glancing at the Prince. He noticed that when Ye Yueshen withdrew his gaze, his eyes shifted from side to side – a look of contemplation.
Only then did Gong Xunwu recall the poem the Prince had just recited. He only remembered fragments of it, and it didn’t seem particularly special. Fortunately, Ye Yueshen’s eyes hadn’t revealed any sign of being amazed by it either.
After the Third Prince drew a slip, his expression was a little strange. He hesitated before handing it over. Gong Xuyin chuckled after looking at it and announced, “Spring Light Leaking.”
The Third Prince drew another slip, this time not looking at it, handing it directly to Gong Xuyin.
“Magpie Bridge Fairy.” Gong Xuyin read it out, showing it to everyone. The Third Prince subconsciously glanced at the Prince.
Ye Yueshen also showed even greater interest in it than before, and Gong Shengyin followed his gaze.
“Magpie Bridge Fairy…” The Third Prince moved restlessly, a little uneasy. His voice was timid, as if afraid of being compared to the Prince: “Red flower honey, welcoming spring with green.”
The Prince, sensing his gaze, looked back. But the Third Prince suddenly withdrew his gaze, seemingly realizing his reaction was too strong, and took a frustrated breath, meeting his gaze again.
“Red flower honey, welcoming the green of the pines, mountain waterfalls melting and trickling. Warm sunlight sweeps through the forest, again revealing hazy feelings.
Spring morning unfolds, autumn clouds linger, hoping for a rendezvous on a moonlit night, better than the bright sun of the year, let alone trying to hold onto spring.”
After reciting his verse, the Third Prince used a handkerchief to wipe his forehead and chin.
The Prince nodded. Gong Xuyin praised, “Good verse! But Third Brother’s verse is pessimistic. Who would have thought that the carefree Third Prince would be so sentimental?”
“Don’t make fun of me.” The Third Prince glanced at him. “It’s just forcing sorrow for a new verse. My poem is done, and I’ve drunk my wine. Quickly let me off the hook. It’s Ninth Imperial Uncle’s turn.”
“It is indeed good.” The Prince teased, “I thought you were going to write an erotic verse.”
The Third Prince looked very hot, and simply repeated, “Let me off the hook.”
At first glance, it was brotherly harmony and joy, but Ye Yueshen was momentarily dazed, feeling that the phrase “let me off the hook” was like a fated entanglement.
Gong Xunwu reached out to draw a slip during their pause, his movements composed and noble. Ye Yueshen had originally thought he would decline, after all, he seemed emotionally detached, not the type to describe emotions.
Gong Xuyin respectfully accepted the slip: “Caged Crane Amongst Flowers.”
Ye Yueshen turned his head, looking past the window at his Second Brother. His shoulders were thin and light, his slender neck twisting, the muscles beneath his smooth, delicate skin rising and falling, making him appear fragile and easily broken.
Ye Lingshen was laughing and drinking, completely unaware that his younger brother was feeling helpless and uncomfortable in front of a table of imperial princes, barely able to conceal his evasive posture.
Gong Xuyin raised the slip again, saying, “Green of Wu Mountain.”
“Golden cage, jade cage, brocade feathers shimmering…” Gong Xunwu turned back, and two middle-aged men whom Ye Yueshen judged to be princes based on their aura walked in, their eyes fixed on Gong Xunwu.
Ye Yueshen stood up with everyone else to offer his greetings. The newcomers had gentle and approachable expressions, treating Gong Xunwu with a hint of careful courtesy. Gong Xunwu addressed them as elder brothers, leaving behind the words “Don’t wait for me” before leaving with them to talk.
The remaining juniors all breathed a sigh of relief, most noticeably Ye Yueshen, who poured himself a cup of tea and drank it down.
Gong Xuyin urged, “I don’t know if Ninth Imperial Uncle will return. Fifth Brother, go first.”
Gong Shengyin withdrew his gaze from Ye Yueshen’s face, drawing a slip from each of the two canisters at once and handing them over.
“Moon Falls, Flower Breaks.” Gong Xuyin then looked at the second slip: “Like a Dream.”
Most of today’s slips weren’t auspicious. At first glance, they seemed to be about romance, but upon closer examination, they were all about falling and breaking. What’s more, the Prince had first drawn “Holding Regret in the Yellow Springs,” but the “Peach Blossom Water” of the Cicípái, a fixed-rhythm poetic form slip concealed the ominous sign of death, filling it with a bit of love-sick decadence.
Ye Yueshen was too close to Gong Shengyin, and subconsciously looked at him. In fact, it was about to be his turn to draw a slip and compose a poem, but he didn’t seem anxious at all, having already given up struggling.
Gong Shengyin’s gaze shifted from the bamboo slip to Ye Yueshen, then slowly lowered his eyelashes: “Dreaming of meeting jade liquid and a bright moon, suddenly unwilling to part with the long night. Old night, dark stars, the next night is no longer tonight. Anxious, anxious, this meeting lingers in dreams, unwilling to leave.”
Obviously, the applause for him wasn’t very enthusiastic. Apart from the Prince nodding, and the host Gong Xuyin uttering a single “Good,” the Third Prince even muttered, “So repetitive…”
Ye Yueshen felt uncomfortable due to the sudden cold atmosphere. Out of sympathy, he earnestly said to Gong Shengyin, “Your poem is the best.”
Gong Shengyin, who had been indifferent and unfazed, had his eyes light up after being praised.
The slip canister had somehow ended up in Gong Xuyin’s hands, having moved from the servant. He leaned his shoulder slightly towards Ye Yueshen, in a very accommodating gesture, and offered the canister to Ye Yueshen: “Young Master Yue, please.”
His tone was formal and serious. Ye Yueshen’s behavior had always been proper, the composure he had cultivated from being forced to stand on his own too early: Anyway, no one would help him out, even if he was anxious.
He drew a slip and handed it to Gong Xuyin. “Thousand-Year-Old Crane Returns.” Gong Xuyin smiled: “This slip is the same as Ninth Imperial Uncle’s.” He showed the slip to everyone. It had “Longing” written on it.
Ye Yueshen remained calm under everyone’s gaze. His eyes and the tip of his nose were still a little red, and his cheeks had turned an alluring color from the alcohol. The skin all over his body exuded a soft, fragrant glow.
He was so beautiful that it was hard to look away, but he himself had clear eyes, and opened his mouth with a calm determination: “I can’t write poetry.”
He said it so matter-of-factly that no one reacted for a moment. After a while, Gong Shengyin was the first to chuckle, pinching his face with selfish affection: “You’re cheating.”
Ye Yueshen leaned back slightly to distance himself from him. Gong Shengyin’s hand remained raised, but it had already been left behind.
Seeing that he couldn’t handle the alcohol, Gong Xuyin had already instructed someone to change his wine. On the small table behind him were a pot of sweet rice wine and a pot of sweet and sour wine.
He poured himself a glass of wine, tilted his head back slightly, and slowly drank it: “I accept the penalty.”
“Cousin Yue.” The Prince looked at him with a smile that wasn’t quite a smile, “Just now, Third Brother wrote a poem and then humbly drank a cup. You didn’t say a single word and are still embarrassed to get away with a single cup?”
Gong Xuyin smoothed things over: “That’s not right, Young Master Yue. In my opinion, you should be punished with at least three cups.”
Ye Yueshen thought this wasn’t difficult. Being able to be punished with three cups to get around writing a poem was at least something to be happy about. When he was drinking just now, he wasn’t sure of his tolerance, and was afraid of angering these people and causing trouble. Only drinking three cups made him feel like he had gotten a bargain.
The servant had already poured him wine. The wine was sour and sweet upon entry, with a hint of spiciness. Today was Ye Yueshen’s first time drinking in his life, and he didn’t know his tolerance.
Being a prince was not as free as being a noble young master, but their high status naturally gave opportunistic courtiers ideas to let them enjoy themselves.
Generally, fining someone during drinking games was a lively moment, where people pushed and persuaded each other, laughing and teasing. A cup of wine could take half a day of joking and laughing before it even reached their lips, and if there was a beautiful server nearby, some physical contact would be inevitable.
But today’s occasion was relatively restrained, and the most beautiful person was the one being fined. The princes, who had originally been measured in their behavior, finally couldn’t hide their male nature any longer.
Gong Xuyin, being the closest, had long been unable to stand Ye Yueshen’s refined sips, and couldn’t resist reaching out to force him to drink.
Before he could touch Ye Yueshen’s wine glass, his wrist was grabbed. Gong Shengyin looked at him with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes: “Fourth Brother, Young Master Yue is timid, he even cries when he eats spicy food. Fourth Brother, please don’t tease him.”
Gong Xuyin’s expression froze for a moment, but today, Ye Yueshen was able to sit at this table because he wanted to reconcile with someone. And Gong Shengyin had already said this much, so he couldn’t show his displeasure.
He smiled and retracted his hand, his eyes filled with a bit of mockery and hostility as he looked back at Gong Shengyin.
Ye Yueshen had just finished drinking and put down his cup. Actually, by the third cup, his throat had lost its swallowing function. He held the wine in his mouth, unable to swallow it down.
He didn’t even realize that some wine had dripped from the corner of his mouth. Gong Shengyin took out a handkerchief to help him wipe it off. He relied entirely on his will to avoid passing out, sitting there quietly, battling intense fatigue.
Everyone could tell that he was drunk, but no one at the table had the kindness to suggest that he go rest.
The drawing and poem-making went on for another two rounds, and Ye Yueshen still accepted the penalty of three cups each time. By the end, he was dizzy and unable to make sense of anything.
Unable to hold on any longer, he lowered his head, instinctively sweeping away the cups and plates on the table, like a tired kitten, collapsing onto the table, burying his face in his arms and falling asleep.
He vaguely heard “Longing” being recited in his ear, as well as jests urging him to make a poem.
Ye Yueshen groaned, and mumbled a poem: “Mountains after mountains, waters after waters, heading towards the border, deep into the night, thousands of lanterns… Wind after wind, snow after snow, shattering homesickness, dreams unmade, the hometown has no such sound…”
He dreamt that he had returned to the world where he had lived for eighteen years. He was sitting in a familiar classroom, and the young language teacher was urging him to stand up and recite a poem.
He looked down at the silk and satin he was wearing, and touched the jade hairpin on his head, suddenly feeling very sad that he could never return.
The feeling of bidding farewell to the familiar world swept through his dream. It turned out that his carefree life had a few things to miss, and the world that wasn’t worth remembering had a version of himself that was worth cherishing.
He would always be proud of the days he fought alongside himself against loneliness.
When Gong Xunwu returned, he saw the scene of several princes leaving their seats and surrounding Ye Yueshen, and Ye Yueshen was being half-held in Gong Shengyin’s arms, unconscious.
“Impudent!” Gong Xunwu, seeing everyone looking at him in fear and stiffness, realized that he had lost his temper.
Gong Xuyin quickly explained, “Imperial Uncle, your nephews were listening to Cousin Yue recite poetry…”