Chapter 23: The Head of the Literature Department

After pondering for a moment, she asked Xu Ze uncertainly, “The meaning of your line, when translated, is: ‘Do you know, the crabapple in the garden ought to be lush with green leaves and sparse with red blossoms?’”

“Yes,” Xu Ze nodded in reply.

Xu Qing immediately continued her analysis: this line can be interpreted both as the author’s retort to the maid, and as the author’s own musings. “Am I understanding it correctly?”

Xu Ze nodded in surprise. As expected of a professor: she instantly grasped the multiple layers of meaning in that line.

Having received Xu Ze’s affirmation, Xu Qing couldn’t help but sigh inwardly once again: “Perfect! Absolutely perfect!”

With just a few simple characters, this line expresses what neither poetry nor painting can convey, capturing the complex mood and tone of a woman mourning spring’s passing. Added to the end of this Dream Song, it truly is a stroke of genius.

Looking at it this way, Xu Ze’s line stands shoulder to shoulder with the original—there’s no exaggeration at all!

If the last line of this poem were missing, then surely it would have to be Xu Ze’s “Do you know, do you know, the green should be lush and the red sparse!”

Xu Qing gazed at Xu Ze’s handsome, refined features, and couldn’t help but wonder: “Could he really be a literary star descended to earth?”

Xu Ze’s creativity in the use of language had already reached the level of a true master.

And the key is, he’s still so young.

Xu Qing took out her phone, snapped a photo of the line, and signaled Xu Ze to return to his seat.

She quickly tidied up the items on the podium, then announced loudly, “The rest of the period will be self-study. I need to discuss Xu Ze’s line with Director Luo.”

A murmur swept through the classroom.

Except for a few members of the literature club, the rest were astonished.

Judging from Ms. Xu’s reaction, they could tell she thought Xu Ze’s line was excellent.

But was it enough to make her skip class altogether? Could Xu Ze’s supplementary line truly rival the original, as he claimed? Was the Dream Song really missing its last line?

At this moment, everyone was looking at Xu Ze as if he were a phenomenon.

The most shocked of all was the boy with slicked-back hair. He simply couldn’t understand why such a simple line was so highly regarded by Ms. Xu.

He stared hard at the blackboard where Xu Ze had written his line, scrutinizing it over and over, and still thought: Is that all?

Inwardly, he was certain: “Ms. Xu must have misjudged. Director Luo, as head of the literature department, is experienced and knowledgeable—he’ll surely set her straight.”

Many students took out their phones and photographed the blackboard, saving Xu Ze’s line.

The girl sitting next to Xu Ze, after taking her photo, opened the school’s forum and started a new thread.

“Shocking! Xu Ze supplements Li Qingzhao’s Dream Song—‘Last Night the Rain Was Sparse, the Wind Fierce,’ Stuns the Literature Department Director!”

She uploaded the photo of the blackboard, then stealthily snapped a profile shot of Xu Ze and posted it underneath.

As soon as the thread was posted, the comments began pouring in.

“Xu Ze? Is that the Xu Ze who sang ‘East Wind Breaks’ at our school?”

“Did Xu Ze really write this?”

“Wow, this combination of words is brilliant!”

“This line seems simple, yet somehow extraordinary!”

“Same feeling +1”

“The tone fits Li Qingzhao’s style perfectly.”

“Any literature majors want to weigh in?”

“Literature department reporting: when this line was revealed, the teacher immediately stopped teaching and went off to find our director!”

“Is that for real?”

“For real, for real—was right there! Xu Ze claimed his line rivals the original!”

“Xu Ze’s amazing, daring to make such a claim!”

“I think his line truly matches Li Qingzhao’s original.”

“+1”

“+1”

At this point, a crowd of seniors and juniors rushed into the thread.

“Just passing by, front row for the handsome guy!”

“Wow, Xu Ze’s profile looks even more handsome!”

“Handsome pic saved +1”

“Doesn’t anyone else think the sunlight by the window makes Xu Ze’s profile look almost radiant?”

“No joke, it really does!”

“You don’t understand—Xu Ze is like someone who belongs in the heavens, come down among us!”

“Immortal Xu bless us!”

The thread quickly went off-topic...

Director Luo, head of the Department of Chinese Language and Literature at Qingbei University, was, like Li Lianfeng, a vice president of the Classical Poetry Association.

However, his relationship with Li Lianfeng was not particularly cordial. Not long ago, Li Lianfeng posted on social media, claiming that Li Qingzhao’s Dream Song was not an incomplete work.

When Director Luo found out, he was so furious that he stormed over to Li Lianfeng’s house that very night and had a heated argument.

Director Luo felt that, as a vice president of the Classical Poetry Association, Li Lianfeng should not casually post opinions online.

Whether Dream Song was incomplete or not had never been agreed upon within the association.

Most members, including Director Luo, actually believed Dream Song was indeed missing its final line.

Li Lianfeng’s sudden public comment would lead the public to assume it was the official view of the association.

Unable to contain his anger, Director Luo went to complain to the president, hoping he would ask Li Lianfeng to delete the post.

But the president said everyone was free to express their opinions, as long as they didn’t claim it was the association’s stance.

Hearing this, Director Luo could only give up, albeit reluctantly.

“Director Luo! Director Luo!” Xu Qing rushed into the office, startling Director Luo, who was sipping his tea.

“Young people, don’t be so excitable,” Director Luo glanced at Xu Qing, took a sip of tea, and said leisurely, “What’s the matter?”

He half-closed his eyes and gently shook his head, seeming to savor the lingering taste of the tea.

“Director Luo, Xu Ze! Xu Ze!” Xu Qing was visibly anxious.

“Xu Ze?” Director Luo set down his teacup, worried. “Is it the Xu Ze who sang ‘East Wind Breaks’? What’s happened?”

He cared deeply about their department’s Xu Ze.

After last night’s broadcast, he had boasted to several old friends that the creator of ‘East Wind Breaks’ was a student in their department.

Such a treasure must not come to harm.

Xu Qing took a deep breath and said, “Xu Ze has supplemented the missing final line of Li Qingzhao’s Dream Song—‘Last Night the Rain Was Sparse, the Wind Fierce’!”

“Oh, is that so?” Director Luo relaxed; he’d thought Xu Ze was in trouble. He said calmly, “A student with some talent, trying to fill in the Dream Song—nothing unusual. Why are you so alarmed, Ms. Xu?”

Xu Qing didn’t want to explain. She simply took out her phone and showed Director Luo the photo she’d just taken.

Director Luo leaned over leisurely.

“Hm?”

He sat up straight, took the phone, put on his reading glasses, and studied it carefully.

After a moment, he sprang from his chair, his hands trembling uncontrollably, and exclaimed in disbelief, “Is this really Xu Ze’s work?”

“Yes, he just wrote it on the blackboard,” Xu Qing nodded.

“Quick, send me the photo on my phone!” Director Luo urged, then hurried toward the door. At the threshold, he turned back and instructed Xu Qing urgently, “Return to the classroom and protect Xu Ze’s line on the blackboard—don’t let anyone erase it. I’ll notify everyone: that classroom won’t be used for teaching for the time being!”

With that, he rushed out.

“Oh, alright.”

Xu Qing watched Director Luo’s retreating figure and couldn’t help but remark inwardly: Who was it just now telling me not to get excited? Now he’s more worked up than I am.