Edward Clark couldn’t find the right words to comment for a moment. As he racked his brains, he suddenly recalled the praise Ming dynasty scholar Dong Qichang once gave to Samuel Adams’s calligraphy, which he had read in a book. In a flash of inspiration, he shamelessly borrowed it. “This calligraphy is written entirely with the upright tip, the strength penetrates the paper, it is the Lanting of the scholar. At the end of every stroke, there are faint traces of gathered ink, like millet grains and pearls—truly a masterpiece of the highest order!”

“Excellent, what a comparison to millet grains and pearls!” Samuel Adams was greatly delighted, picked up a corner of the wine and poured it into his mouth, then leaned on the railing and sighed, “All my life, the person I admire most is Wang Xizhi of the Eastern Jin and his ‘Preface to the Orchid Pavilion Gathering.’ Unfortunately, I have never had the chance to see the original. As for cursive script, from ancient times to now, no one has surpassed Lord Wang. Whenever he wrote wild cursive, did he ever rely on wine for inspiration? In the Tang dynasty, there was the sage of cursive, Zhang Xu; after him, our Song dynasty has many great masters, but all of them must be drunk to write cursive. In comparison, they inevitably fall short.”

Edward Clark felt he had gained a lot from listening, but he couldn’t help thinking that if his master were here, he would probably be even more excited. As he was lost in thought, Professor Adams suddenly spoke up: “Today, I have had the pleasure of discussing calligraphy with Little Clark; it is truly a rare fate. I wonder if you could write something by hand for me to appreciate?”

Here it comes! This was exactly the moment Edward Clark had been waiting for. It was time to show his true ability; he certainly didn’t expect to impress Samuel Adams with just a few empty words, so he had already made his preparations. After a few modest remarks, he unrolled the xuan paper without hesitation. After a brief moment of thought, he began to write vigorously. Having just displayed his wild cursive, and recalling that Samuel Adams greatly admired regular script, he dared not show off in front of an expert, so he chose to write in standard regular script, copying Samuel Adams’s own “River City.” Although he had not experienced the pain of losing a wife, his writing was upright and proper, yet a sense of loneliness seeped through the lines, naturally reflecting his own feelings about his current situation.

At first, Samuel Adams only nodded slightly, but as he continued watching, he was greatly surprised. This “River City” was a poem he had written in memory of his late wife, and he was intimately familiar with it. However, he never expected that a young man not yet twenty could use calligraphy to express such sorrowful words. Although the brushwork was still somewhat lacking, the artistic conception had reached seven or eight tenths, enough to make him marvel.

“Little Clark, to have such accomplishment at such a young age is truly rare!” Samuel Adams, who seldom praised others, finally showed a look of genuine appreciation. “Judging by your appearance, you seem to be a scholar. Have you ever tried the imperial examinations?”

This was something that could easily be found out, so Edward Clark dared not lie or try to deceive. With a look of deep remorse, he reflected and blamed himself: “Thank you for your inquiry, scholar. To be honest, I am truly ashamed. I was unruly and disobedient as a child, and now, though over twenty, I have achieved nothing—only my calligraphy is presentable. As for the imperial examinations, I have thought about it, but unfortunately my foundation is weak and I lack guidance, so I have temporarily given up on that idea.”

Samuel Adams nodded thoughtfully. Coming from a distinguished family, he had seen many cases of people regretting their wasted youth. At this moment, he felt that Edward Clark’s words were sincere and his attitude quite composed. Although one could not judge a person’s learning solely by their calligraphy, he was truly moved to cherish talent, and after a moment’s thought, he had an idea.

“Skill is lost in play but refined through diligence. It is common for young people to waste time, but I see that you have talent. With some effort, you may yet stand out. Hmm, if you are truly determined, why not visit my residence from time to time? Many scholars and literati gather there, and I can offer you some guidance.”

Edward Clark was overjoyed. Although Samuel Adams’s official career was always fraught with difficulties, at this moment, it was undoubtedly a stroke of luck to be able to associate with such a person. Didn’t the Song histories record that many people considered it an honor to come from the Su school? Besides, spending some time at the scholar’s residence was certainly better than wandering the streets for news of the court and Zhao Ji’s whereabouts. Thinking this, he respectfully bowed and thanked him: “If Edward achieves anything in the future, I will never forget the scholar’s kindness!”

Samuel Adams was a straightforward man. After having food and wine at the inn, he immediately took Edward Clark back to his residence. The Su family had been officials for generations; as early as the reign of Emperor Renzong, Su Xun had purchased a wealthy merchant’s garden in the western suburb of Bianjing as a residence. After several renovations, this spacious mansion had become a frequent gathering place for the literati of the capital.

By coincidence, there was a literary gathering that very night. Samuel Adams introduced Edward Clark to several young talents in front of everyone, and then the group began composing poetry and matching couplets, with wonderful singing and dancing to enliven the occasion. Edward Clark never expected to be put on the spot, and after racking his brains, he managed to come up with a “famous poem,” but in the end, he had to make an excuse to leave in embarrassment. Fortunately, Samuel Adams knew his background and only asked him to transcribe everyone’s works, which earned him more praise for his calligraphy.

After all this, Edward Clark hurried home with the moon already high in the sky. Fortunately, there was no curfew in the Song dynasty, and he encountered no patrols on the way, so the journey was uneventful. However, just as he approached his own courtyard, he unexpectedly heard the voices of a man and a woman coming from inside, and he quickly crept up quietly.

Chapter Five: Between Husband and Wife