Missing the chance to catch a glimpse of Scholar Su left Emily quite frustrated. However, she quickly pulled herself together, spent five hundred coins at the cloth shop to buy several bolts of fabric, and immediately began working day and night. Edward Clark watched his wife’s eyes grow bloodshot from exhaustion and couldn’t help but feel sorry for her, but once Emily’s stubborn temper flared up, no one could stop her, so he could only let her be.

Meanwhile, Matthew Scott, who came to visit, also learned that his son-in-law had received an official invitation from Su Shi. Overjoyed, he wanted to spread the news everywhere, and it took Edward Clark quite some time to persuade him to keep quiet. Although he admired the character of Su Shi’s followers, he was even more aware that these officials, representing the old party, would sooner or later be banished from court. As a commoner, if too many people took notice of him, he would surely bring disaster upon himself in the future.

Chapter 11: A House Full of Guests

On the ninth day of the third month, the scene in front of the Su residence was bustling with activity. All kinds of carriages and sedan chairs came and went in an endless stream. Although everyone entering and leaving wore simple robes, each person was spirited and carried themselves with extraordinary poise. There were both young talents and middle-aged men in their forties and fifties. The servants were kept busy, guiding guests inside according to their names, though a few insisted on barging in on their own, and no one dared stop them.

Edward Clark, however, had arrived early and was waiting in the flower hall of the Su residence. Knowing he was not an important figure, he had come quietly at dawn, which gave the Su family steward, Adams Bridge, who knew him well, quite a shock.

Watching the lively comings and goings outside, he couldn’t help but sigh from the heart: how much longer could these seemingly peaceful days last?

As he was lost in thought, someone tapped him on the shoulder. Turning around, he saw a middle-aged man dressed all in white, looking at him with a rather eccentric expression, stroking his beard and smiling—a gaze that sent chills down his spine. Instinctively, he took a step back and asked warily, “May I ask who you are?”

“So you’re the Edward Clark that old Su mentioned?” the man asked boisterously, staring at Edward Clark as if examining a rare animal. He pressed further, “Old Su actually said your calligraphy is good? Hmph, his own writing looks like paintings—when did he become qualified to judge others’ calligraphy?”

Edward Clark was both amused and exasperated, about to retort, when someone tugged at his sleeve. “Come on, there’s still time. Write something for me right now—I want to see what kind of skill the person old Su praised really has!”

In these times, people might be forced to compose poetry on the spot, but he’d never heard of anyone being forced to write calligraphy. Edward Clark wanted to refuse, but seeing that all the Su family servants had made themselves scarce, he realized this seemingly crazy middle-aged man was not to be trifled with. He had no choice but to spread out the rice paper as instructed. Yet, as he picked up the brush, he hesitated, his mind blank, unable to think of what to write.

“Oh, what’s there to think about? Old Su said you wrote his ‘River City Song’ well—just copy it again, what’s with all the fuss? Don’t be so wishy-washy!”

Edward Clark was nearly knocked out by this grumbling. In his annoyance, a sudden flash of inspiration struck him—he instantly realized who this madman was. Among the great calligraphers of the Song dynasty, aside from the famously eccentric Thomas Miller, he hadn’t heard of anyone else with such a peculiar temperament. With this in mind, he confidently dipped his brush in thick ink and began to write swiftly and boldly.

“Hmm, ‘mi’, ‘mi’, ‘mi’, ... Strange kid, why are you writing so many ‘mi’ characters! Huh, but these characters are actually quite interesting...” At first, Thomas Miller didn’t think much of it, but as he watched, he was taken aback. “You sly little rascal! Others make a ‘Hundred Longevity’ scroll, and you come up with a ‘Hundred Mi Banquet’—are you deliberately trying to mess with me?”

“You really are sharp-tongued, Thomas!” At this moment, Su Shi’s voice came from outside the door. When he saw the sheet filled with ‘mi’ characters that Edward Clark had written, he couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Good, good! Even you, old fellow, have been outdone for once. Someone, mount this ‘Hundred Mi Banquet’ and hang it in the main hall as the centerpiece painting!”

“Old Su, I came all the way from Xiangyang to see you, and you embarrass me like this!” Thomas Miller shouted furiously, reaching out to snatch the rice paper.

Watching these two calligraphy masters—so highly esteemed by modern people—blustering and glaring at each other, Edward Clark could only smile wryly. The calligraphy was done, but now it seemed the ownership had changed hands. Other than watching from the sidelines, he was now just an irrelevant bystander.

Fortunately, at that moment, the steward Adams Bridge came to report that all the guests had arrived, finally putting an end to the quarrel. However, since Su Shi himself was holding the calligraphy, when they took their seats, Thomas Miller still looked furious, occasionally casting a chilling glance at Edward Clark.

Because there were twice as many guests as usual, Su Shi had to introduce Edward Clark to everyone once again, and then displayed the “Hundred Mi Banquet” for all to see, which immediately drew a burst of laughter. Thomas Miller’s eccentricities were well known in literary circles, but usually, people only fell victim to his tricks—no one had ever thought to fight back like this. For a while, several guests who had suffered at his hands all voiced their admiration, and the scene became extremely lively.