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Mo Wen spent the remaining time in the inn, astonished by the elaborate rules of Mo Bao Fang. At this moment, he was so intimidated by these regulations that he dared not step outside. The rules of Mo Bao Fang were indeed as the Official had said, inscribed on a stone tablet standing outside the courtyard. Now that he had some leisure to think about it, it was no wonder that the Official claimed he could not help him; the inscriptions on that tablet were certainly not something that could be explained in just a few sentences. To elaborate on these rules would take an entire day, as they were established by the Literati within the courtyard, covering various aspects such as the prohibition of carrying weapons into Mo Bao Fang. Moreover, Mo Wen had heard from people outside that these rules were continuously being added to, and indeed they were on the rise. Originally, there was only one tablet, but now three had been erected. These regulations were ostensibly meant to prevent outsiders from disturbing Mr. You Ran's cultivation and teachings, yet not a single one of them had been set down by Mr. You Ran himself.
With the Poetry Gathering approaching, there was no change within Mo Bao Fang, leading Mo Wen to doubt the authenticity of the invitation regarding the gathering. Out of curiosity, he inquired with an inn attendant and learned that various Poetry Gatherings occurred almost daily within Mo Bao Fang. However, the gathering mentioned in his invitation was organized by the General's residence, and each time it failed to produce satisfactory works. Since the General's residence took over hosting it, every event had focused on appreciating paintings and composing verses based on them. Over time, people found it uninteresting; they could neither decipher the meaning of the paintings nor wished to embarrass themselves.
"What kind of painting could it be that for so many years no one has been able to interpret its meaning?" Mo Wen was quite curious about what kind of artwork it was.
"It is merely an ordinary painting, depicting a woman sitting by a railing. Since you have received an invitation, you will know tomorrow when you go," replied the attendant. After all, it was a Poetry Gathering hosted by the esteemed Yin General's Residence, so he did not want to speak ill of the painting’s quality.
At dawn the next day, Mo Wen left the inn and headed towards the mountains. According to his inquiries from yesterday, it would take more than an hour to reach the venue for the Poetry Gathering, giving him a chance to enjoy the scenery of You Ran Mountain along the way.
"Indeed, this is a tranquil place!" The mountain air was filled with the sound of bubbling springs and cascading silver waterfalls. Paths meandered through the woods, and pavilions were built near springs, waterfalls, and streams; although they were made of wood with thatched roofs of wild grass—lacking in opulence—they blended beautifully with the mountain scenery and added a sense of leisure that made one feel incredibly comfortable. Inside these pavilions were Literati from Mo Bao Fang; some engaged in games of strategy while others brewed tea or gathered in small groups to appreciate and discuss each other’s works... Seeing this scene made Mo Wen unable to suppress his admiration.
"Haha! It seems you are truly moved by this scene; I admire your sentiment," came a hearty laugh from behind him. Turning around, Mo Wen saw a young scholar in a blue robe appearing on the path.
"Please forgive my outburst; I am new here and captivated by this scenery," Mo Wen replied somewhat awkwardly.
"To be moved is commendable; why concern yourself with eloquence? My surname is Yin; I appear to be a few years older than you. If you do not mind, you may call me Brother Yin," said the young man named Yin with a respectful bow. Although he performed gestures typical among Literati, there was an air of camaraderie about him.
" Brother Yin is too courteous; my surname is He, with the courtesy name Wen," Mo Wen returned the gesture. Literati often adopted a courtesy name to replace their given names; at this moment, he was using He Er Gou as his name—how could a cultured scholar tolerate such a "common" name?
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