ExclusiveSima Xiangru and Zhuo Wenjun --- #simaxiangru #zhuowenjun #fengqiuhuang #baitouyin #chinesehistory #maritalduty

Have you ever heard the mournful cry of a phoenix? It is not because of the raging fire, but because in the vast sea of humanity, it cannot find that resonating female phoenix. Over 2,000 years ago in the ancient city of Linkian, a Tuna Fengkia Huang plucked the strings of fate. Sima Hongru and Hua Wenjing. One was a destitute but proud scholar. The other was a stunningly beautiful daughter of a wealthy family. Their encounter was a shocking defiance of traditional etiquette, was the solidarity of tending a wine shop together in times of adversity, and was the soul's redemption through the song of white hares that echoed through the ages. This was not merely a romantic affair between a gifted scholar and a beautiful lady. It was more like a mirror, reflecting the gratitude and righteousness between a husband and wife. The rise and fall of karmic affinity, and the profound weight in traditional culture that a wife who shared one's hardships should never be abandoned. Hello everyone. Welcome to the exclusive Ganjing World Channel Meiling's cultural talk. I am Meiling. Today, let us travel back together to the Western Han Dynasty 2,000 years ago, to appreciate that unforgettable love and the elegance of a generation's talented woman. The afternoon sun is unexpectedly warm. In the misty and mountainous land of Shu, such a winter day is quite rare. A faint scent of medicine lingers. A hazy white mist rises over the stove. The man has not yet woken from his afternoon nap. A small dog dozes by the white-haired woman's feet. It is so quiet. The woman gazes at the man on the bed. This old man suffering from wasting thirst disease. His hands and feet are thin and emaciated. His complexion is dull. She caresses that frail body with her eyes. A lifetime. It has been a whole lifetime. Who is this man? The old woman, Hua Wenjin, props her chin, leans over to look, and asks herself, there was never such a face in her memory. He is balding. Folds of loose skin stack on his neck like a camel's. He no longer looks like the talented scholar of the past, Sima Hongru, but rather like Sima Hongru's father or grandfather. The young Sima was not exactly a handsome man. But his skin was firm. His glances were full of charm. He could play a guqin with such intricate emotion, like a heart full of unspoken feelings. He was also skilled with the sword, and the sound of his guqin always carried the clear and vigorous grace of a sword's dance. It was as if that guqin was not a man-made instrument. Every string was like a cold spring cascading from his fingertips. Green waterfalls clinking, chiming, an endless flow of high mountains and flowing water, belly mist and ravine clouds. She still remembers that distant long night. Newly widowed, his guqin music drifted over, like a lotus bud gently blooming in the midnight. In an instant, a pond of fragrant petals had brilliantly ignited like thousands of flames. She chose that music, risked everything to follow that music. Fleeing from the home of her father, Shuo Wangson, from then on, she gave up a life with crowds of servants, and a life of spending money like dirt. She did not feel suddenly impoverished. In her ecstasy, she felt suddenly rich. Being together with Sima Changqing was like intertwining with a rich and elegant Han rhapsody. Every sentence and every pause stunningly beautiful and hard to follow. Ah, she will always remember. It was that extraordinary and uninhibited man, who used the most elegant sentences to record the people of a great Han Golden Age. If Changqing was destined to be the one who recorded the Han Dynasty, she intended to be the one who netted this man's entire life with her memories. Yet this man is now old and sickly. Is this person really that person? Has someone secretly swapped him? Shuo Wangson carefully lifts the medicine pot, straining the herbal decoction into a white porcelain bowl. It is still too hot, she will wait a moment before waking him to drink it. The world knows the beautiful tale of the Midnight Elopement from Ling Qiong, but little do they know that this shocking romance had already planted its karma high up in the Nine Heavens. Legend has it that in the immortal realm, there was a sentient crimson phoenix, who fell deeply in love with a parasol tree fairy grass that absorbed the spiritual essence by the Jade Pool. One day, the fairy grass suffered a calamity of withering to the bone. The phoenix burned with anxiety and actually spat out the warm blood from his heart to nourish the fairy grass. This act violated the rules of the immortal realm. The heavenly emperor sighed and said, since you two have the desire to be husband and wife, go take a journey through the mortal realm. If you can survive the trials of love without breaking your bond of gratitude and righteousness, only then may you return to the immortal realm. Thus, the crimson phoenix transformed into the utterly destitute Sima. Han grew in the land of Shu, while the parasol fairy grass was reincarnated as Hua Wenjun, daughter of a mega-rich family in Ling Qiong. That was a predestined bond from a past life sealed deep within their souls. Washed by the river of forgetfulness yet remaining scorching hot, so, the deeply secluded Hua Wenjun, hearing only a single melody, desperately fled into the night. That was not a momentary impulse. It was the soul's instantaneous recognition. During the reign of Emperor Jing of Han, Sima Hangru's talents went unrecognized, and he lodged in Ling Qiong, at the banquet of the mega-rich Hua Wansun. Shangru, having long heard that Hua's daughter Wenjun was well-versed in music, tuned his strings, and plucked out the timeless piece, Fengqia Huang of Phoenix Seeks His Mate. Phoenix, oh Phoenix, return to your homeland. Roaming the four seas seeking his mate. The Guqin music was clear, bright, and lingering, carrying a desperate, reckless affection. Behind the folding screen, Hua Wenjun's heartstrings were heavily strung. That night, a light rain fell on Ling Qiong, and Hua Wenjun made the bravest decision of her life, to elope in the dead of night. However, reality was cruel. When Hua Wansun learned of his daughter's elopement, he angrily cut off all financial support. Facing the predicament of absolute destitution, this young lady, who grew up in luxury, did not complain. She took off her silk skirts, changed into coarse linen clothes, and said to Hangru, let's go back to Ling Qiong and open a tavern. Thus, a peculiar scene appeared on the streets of Ling Qiong. Sima Hangru wore an apron and washed wine vessels with the servants. While the noble and beautiful Hua Wenjun, calmly tended the bar and sold wine. This is Wenjun tending the bar, and Hangru washing the vessels. These days were the starting point of their marital gratitude and righteousness. Gratitude came first, righteousness followed. Wenjun did not disdain his poverty, lowering her precious self to the marketplace. This is gratitude. Hangru performed menial labor without complaint, carefully protecting his wife amidst the noise of the market. This is righteousness. A turning point in their fate arrived after Emperor Wu of Han ascended the throne. Sima Hangru, because of his rhapsody on Servacius and rhapsody on the imperial park, was highly valued by the imperial court. He rapidly rose to power, his fame shaking the government and the public. However, the prosperity of Chengding intoxicated the eyes of this talented scholar. He gradually forgot his wife far away in the land of Shu, and even entertained the thought of taking a concubine and abandoning his first wife. One day, a letter from home was delivered to Hua Wenjun. On the rice paper, there were no sweet words of love, only 13 stark, large characters. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand. The numbers went from one to ten thousand, lacking only the character for hundred million yi. No, yi meant no affection. At that moment, it felt like being struck by lightning. Wenjun remembered the wind and rain of the midnight elopement from Linquan, remembered the hardships of tending the bar and selling wine. It turned out that worldly wealth really could turn stone into gold, and it could also corrupt a pure heart beyond recognition. The phoenix lost himself in the dazzling world. Forgetting that fairy grass by the jade pool who had bled dry for him. However, Hua Wenjun had the noble and proud spirit of the parasol fairy grass in her bones. She did not cry and make a scene like an ordinary resentful wife. Instead, she spread out the rice paper, took up her brush, and wrote the historically renowned Song of White Hairs. Bright and pure like the snow on the mountain. Bright and pure like the moon among the clouds. Hearing that my lord has a divided heart. I have therefore come to break things off. Wishing to win a person of one heart. Never to be separated even when our hair turns white. Hearing that my lord has a divided heart. I have therefore come to break things off. What immense dignity this was. If you have had a change of heart, then we shall go our separate ways. Never to see each other again. She even attached a poem of numbers after the letter. Weaving those numbers from one to ten thousand forwards and backwards. Denouncing her husband's fickleness. After one parting, the two lands are suspended in longing. My lord, oh my lord. I can only wish that in the next life you are the woman and I am the man. This letter and the Song of White Hairs were like evening drums and morning bells. Striking fiercely against Sima Hongru's heart. Reading the verses written with blood and tears. Hongru felt as if struck by a deity. The scenes of Wenjin warming wine for him in the past. And sharing joys and sorrows surfaced one by one. Friends made in poverty and lowly status must not be forgotten. A wife who shared one's hardships must never be cast out. In traditional Chinese culture, husband and wife are a covenant of morality and justice. If a man abandons the wife who shared his adversity when he becomes rich, that is intolerable by heavenly laws. Hongru shed tears of shame. His memories from his past life and his conscience. Awakened at this moment, he immediately readied a high carriage drawn by four horses. And personally rushed back to Shu. Taking Hua Wenjin back to Chang'an. From then on, he held the hand of this one person. And never mentioned taking a concubine again. He used tolerance and awakening to consummate the destiny of this couple. Closing this heavy, long scroll of history, my heart could not calm down for a long time. Modern people are always chasing novelty in fast food-like relationships. Once the passion fades, they easily give up. Look at Sima Hongru and Hua Wenjin. Their affinity was the breathtaking amazement of Fengkia Huan. But their perseverance was the self-reflection of the Song of White Hairs. The person you meet in this life might just be the fairy grass that bled its heart out for you in a previous life. Or the phoenix that guarded you for a thousand years. Every couple who can enter into marriage and eat a bowl of hot noodle soup together has cultivated their bond for a hundred years. When we are utterly destitute, do not take our partner's devotion for granted. When we one day achieve success and meteoric rise, we must never forget the wife who once shared our hardships, tending the bar and selling wine. True love is when, faced with temptation and confusion, you suddenly remember the gratitude from when you first held hands and are willing to rein in the horses of desire for the other person. Turn around and go home. Cherish the one in front of you. Do not wait until the kin strings break to understand the calamity of the phoenix. All right. That's all for today's story. I hope you have gained some insights and some harvest. Thank you for watching. I am Nielin. See you in the next episode.