話說新年已過，又到元宵，六街三市，火樹銀花，好不熱鬧。子雲於十三日請了華公子、田春航、梅子玉、史南湘、高品、顏仲清、劉文澤、王恂、蕭次賢、金粟、屈勤先，並九香園諸人，作一大會。琴仙見了華公子，尚有些不安，華公子也不問起前事，以禮相待。此時琴仙已出了旦黨，入了士黨，但從前作旦時傲睨一切，此刻倒謙謙自守起來，因此上下諸人更加尊重他，絕沒有一個人笑他。琴仙對了那些名旦，還是從前一樣，並不生疏。是日觥籌交錯，晚間燈火交輝。華公子進城後，子雲又將那些燈試了一會，如見萬花齊放，炮竹之聲，聲聞數里，二更後方煮茗清談。
琴仙一身歷盡艱辛，此時才覺魔難盡釋。然回想蕭寺淒涼，孤燈殘月，真如夢覺。次賢又將琴仙從前的夢境，向吉甫細細的說了一遍。吉甫因笑向子雲、次賢道：「九香樓絕好一個花園，百花全有，如今單有一個花神牌位，且在隱僻處，與土地祠一樣，豈不褻瀆花神？我擬借他們九個作個九香花史，眾位以為何如？」
眾人均以為奇，同問道：「請道其詳。」次賢道：「我久有此意，我欲畫他們九個的小像。今你既有此意，妙不可言。我明日一一畫出，就請你潤色潤色，就刻石供養在這九香樓下，做個花神。但只有九個，湊不出十二個來。」眾人亦同說大妙。吉甫道：「我倒有一個主意，但不知可行不可行？」
子雲問道：「怎樣呢？」吉甫道：「花神若定要十二位，也可湊得上，只要把屈道翁做了夫蓉城主，再借重玉儂的前生所說那杜仙女，湊上玉儂，不是十二位了？」春航道：「妙，妙！此像要畫得像，不必說真姓真名，綴個別號，每人做一篇贊語，說得似真似幻的，要與人花兩合。」子玉道：「這個圖怎樣的好呢？還是單畫人，還是補景呢？」仲清道：「自然單畫人，一並的畫去，後就綴小傳一篇。刻石之後，可以拓出來，或裱冊頁，或裱手卷，皆可傳世。」文澤道：「做兩塊好，就鑲嵌在東西兩楹。」王恂道：「若畫杜仙女，就畫他在採蓮船上的樣子。」吉甫道：「玉儂夢見那面鏡子，必非無因。我畫條龍執著這面鏡子，就做頭幅，好不好？」大家說道：「好。」子玉道：「這雲龍人必猜有個寓意在裡頭呢。」子雲道：「這十一篇傳贊，各人分了罷。」次賢道：「好。這一番大著作倒要借吉甫以傳。」吉甫道：「豈敢，豈敢。」
次賢道：「不必過謙。道生先生故後，筆墨之道，自然要讓你，大家公論，何必推辭。我就做雲龍那一幅，作好了，你再給我改改。」子雲道：「自然是借重你們二位。那十篇如今是這樣，各人拈鬮，拈到誰是誰。華星北也叫他做一篇在內。」南湘道：「甚好。」於是寫起鬮來，將屈道翁與杜仙女、屈琴仙分做二鬮，其餘九人分作九鬮。說也奇怪，想必文字有靈，前生緣法，子雲拈了道翁，子玉拈了杜仙女、琴仙，金粟拈了寶珠，春航拈了蕙芳，仲清拈了琪官，文澤拈了春喜，南湘拈了蘭保，王恂拈了桂保，高品拈了玉林，次賢拈了漱久，單拈不著素蘭，只好送與華公子去作了。眾人分派已定，子玉說道：「做傳容易，畫畫難，還要刻石，更須時日，不知幾天可以告成？」吉甫道：「不消多日，碑是磨現成的，一面畫，一面就叫季十矮子找人刻，大約十幾天是必要的，嵌好這些碑，也要幾天。我們這一敘，總在九香園了，索性多歇幾天，我好加意畫畫，到二月初一日，在九香園聚會罷。」大家都說有理，於是各散。
子玉同了琴仙回家，正是內有韻妻，外有俊友，名成身立，清貴高華，好不有興。子雲寫了一札與華公子為素蘭作傳。這邊次賢妙腕靈思，畫了十天才成。畫成又請吉甫一一的改好，畫一個，刻一個，倒也甚快。子雲因受了感冒甚重，不敢用心，囑將道翁、琴仙、杜仙女畫在一幅，並求子玉作贊。到二十七日，連傳贊都也刻起，係是各人書丹。二十八日就搬往九香樓鑲嵌，一日完工。
三十日，琴仙先到九香園看碑，九旦同到樓下。琴仙道：「今日也應祭一祭花神，明日我們方可聚會。這個花神就是我們的像，若叫他們來祭，我們也當不起，就是我們十個人祭一祭罷。」蕙芳等皆以為是，便設了酒果，焚了好香，十人齊齊拜了。琴仙看東楹嵌的第一方畫，上雲下水，雲水中間，隱著一龍，露出一爪，托著一面鏡子，上題曰：《品花寶鑑》。刻著次賢的贊語是：
上不在天，下不在田。雲生九霄，水出重淵。神奇變化，氣象萬千。靈珠之圓，明鏡之懸。燭微照幽，隱奸顯賢。如月之臨，如水之鮮。亦曰其□□，而妍其妍。
第二方畫的人綸巾道服，左右侍仙子女各一，題曰：
總持九香花主、三閭道君及左右花史杜仙之像。下有贊語，是子玉手筆：
公氣為雲，公神為水；在天在地，靡盡靡止。司文曰郎，司花曰主。列宿之精，群芳之祖。左英瓊瑤，右青珊瑚。一氣二氣，同歸殊途。五色炫彩，九華流香。心花意蕊，文運之祥。
寶珠道：「這幾篇贊語實在做得好。若將我們實事敘在裡頭，雖然不致辱身，究竟也為賤行。」蕙芳道：「可不是！你看那些花譜花評，雖將那些人贊得色藝俱佳，究不免梨園習氣。我們這一關倒可以算跳出了。」素蘭等皆點首浩歎。
琴仙再看第三方，畫一個仙女，雲鬟霧縠，清豔絕倫，手拈一枝蕙花，琴仙已知是蕙芳。看題的是：錦文花史蘇仙。是春航一篇跋語：
錦文花史蘇仙，性靈彗警悟，色如瑤瑜。摶雪作膚，鏤月為骨。常散花而翦彩，亦擲米以成珠。狡獪神通，均出三昧。曾遊戲人間，使留恨於碧桃花者有焉。江臯仙影，時去時來；洛浦神光，乍離乍合。蕭史常垂於彩鳳，裴航終隔於藍橋。是宜結十重珠網，護金屋於群玉山頭；何幸啟九疊銀屏，窺素面於瑤臺月下。
琴仙道：「這個跋語跋得甚切，『狡獪神通均出三昧』二語尤妙。」蕙芳笑道：「憑他怎樣講，那裡還算得我們？」看第四方，一個仙女月佩霓裳，十分嬌豔，手捧明珠一顆，題曰：弄珠花史袁仙。有金粟贊曰：
仙露在霄，明珠出海；和神當春，秀氣成彩。不脛而走，不夜而光。瓊花瑤蕊，國色天香。珍珠飾車，雲錦縫裳。金枝翠羽，玉□明▉。華月光滿，蓬山路長。既美且都，亦風而雅。學士滿宮，首推大舍。
琴仙道：「瑤卿之▉豔韶華，卻一齊被靜宜畫出來，吉甫贊出來了。」寶珠道：「算花神罷了，我也配這樣？」看第五方，畫一個仙女，意致飄灑，素豔欲流，手拈蘭花一朵，題曰：素心花史陸仙。下有小傳，為華公子撰：
陸仙性敏悟，姿容絕世，才藝過人。常衣紫綃衣，行吟風露間。其竟體之清芬，與蘭香蕙馥相表裡也。工詞善書，流露人間，購之者千緡不獲焉。昔鍾嶸評詩，謂顏延之鏤金錯彩，不如謝康樂初日芙蓉。素面風流，是為絕豔，仙殆蓮花化身者歟？
琴仙笑道：「這幾句倒比香畹的小照還畫得像些。這『紫綃衣行吟風露間，』與『蓮花化身』之說，卻移不到他人的，真是你。」素蘭笑道：「我如何敢當？大抵既贊花神，自然就要竭力贊揚的了。」琴仙再看第六方仙女，纖纖弱質，□轅舞凌風，有掌上輕盈之態，頭上戴著金步搖，題曰：纖纖花史金仙。下是蕭次賢的七律一首：
蛾眉新月露纖纖，光彩天然不用添。
鴛錦裁成九華帳，鮫珠穿作十重簾。
隱身閬苑依瓊樹，返劫□□典玉籤。
只恐留仙留不住，曉風吹上綠雲尖。
琴仙道：「將瘦香的神情骨相全寫出來。」漱芳笑道：「我這個瘦字倒有些像，別樣真令我慚愧死了。」再看第七方畫的仙女，在兩棵玉樹之下，有玉樹凌風之致，題的是娟娟花史李仙，是高品的詩。琴仙道：「高卓然肯說好話嗎？」玉林道：「這一回倒沒有刻薄人。」蕙芳道：「這首詩，算卓然極要好的了。」琴仙看是：
花情月色想娟娟，玉樹臨風更裊然。
帳裡不知蘭麝貴，夢中羞作雨雲仙。
珊瑚枕上生紅暈，翡翠樓頭鎖綠煙。
謫往天臺守孤另，碧桃流水自年年。
琴仙道：「真說得好，將佩仙濃香秀韻一齊寫出來了。」玉林道：「這首詩究竟也不甚好，還有些刻薄，你看帳裡夢中等句，有什麼好呢？」蕙芳道：「這倒沒有什麼。不過寫的嬌豔尊貴處。」寶珠道：「卓然這等詩，就算他的好心了。若要他做莊重些，他也未嘗不願，但他那油嘴油舌說這慣一派。你們看他生平說過幾句正經話來？吉甫說他去年到京來有個笑話。卓然有個表叔，請他吃飯，還有好幾位客坐在那裡，表叔問他道：『你去年回家，見我家裡可好麼？』卓然道：『很好，前月表嬸又生了個表弟。』那表叔一聽唬呆了，想道：我三四年不回家，怎樣會生了兒子？當著人又不好問他，那些客雖也聽得不順耳，但或者他說別個表嬸，也就過去了。到客散後，表叔問他：『方才這句話是怎麼講？』你們想想卓然怎樣回答？他說：『我與表叔初次見面，自然要找句吉利話說，我隨口找著這句，其實沒有的事。』氣得他表叔要死，然也奈何他不得。他的長親，尚且要頑笑頑笑，何況他人？」眾人大笑道：「那吉甫的嘴也不能讓他。」又看第八方，畫一個仙女，玉貌錦衣，腰懸秋水，似公孫大娘模樣。題曰：俠隱花史王仙。琴仙知是蘭保，下看史南湘的七古：
我觀王仙舞神劍，手掣寒泉一匹線。鼕鼕羯鼓始三撾，溜亮風生已迎面。彩虹映水合成團，流電穿雲曲如線。破開點點綠沉槍，撥落紛紛大羽箭。錦衣玉貌何聘婷，白咽紅頰長眉青。
雲裾輕曳錦靴起，去如飛鳥來如霆。四方觀者圍成堵，不羨英雄羨媚嫵。綠雲堆鬢翠鬟新，九梁插花步搖古。妾借防身不愛名，嬌嬈我自惜輕生。請看世上黃衫客，多少恩仇報不成。
琴仙贊道：「這首七古，實在做得好，念去比《公孫大娘舞劍器行》還刻畫得入細。」王蘭保笑而不言。蕙芳道：「去年奚十一鬧來，幸虧著他，我就沒有法了。」素蘭道：「原來你也怕奚十一，難道他比潘三還利害麼？」蕙芳道：「潘三是個無用的人，那奚十一鬧起來，就與前日魏聘才使來的車夫一樣，你怕不怕？」蘭保道：「那天適或我不在家，你便怎樣？」蕙芳道：「我就躲開不出來了。」琴仙問奚十一怎樣，蘭保將他的樣子學了一回，琴仙也覺好笑。蕙芳道：「聽得奚十一出京去了，但我前日在剃頭鋪裡看見一個人，很像他那一天帶來的那個小子，就不是他，也必是他的兄弟，再沒有這麼像的了。」蘭保道：「或者奚十一沒有帶去，也論不定的。那個狗小子，也只配做剃頭的。」琴仙又看第九方，畫一株梅花，有一隻喜鵲，梅花下有一個仙女，題曰：報春花史林仙。看有劉文澤一首小賦：
梅花枝上鳥報春，梅花樹下倚玉人。杜蘭香嫁不可見，綠萼華來幸接真。翠袖翩躚，縞衣自妍。韻生骨裡，秀出天然。
卻珠鈿而愈美，洗脂粉而尤娟。纖纖兮雲間新月，淡淡兮花外晴煙。秋水盈浦，朝霞麗天。斯何修而若此，得非人而果仙。
蘭自秀兮菊自芳，思美人兮何日忘。蓬萊清淺不可到，我欲從之騎鳳凰。天風急吹袂，玉露冷沾裳。吮纖毫而抒寫，對玉貌而傍徨。
琴仙道：「好賦。正是松風竹雨，仙露明珠，將你那清腴娟秀，都一齊刻畫出來。」春喜道：「這是前舟在那裡認真做賦，忘了題目了。」琴仙道：「卻也是你的光景。」再看第十方，是一個桂樹下有個仙女，姿致風流，青眸善盼，題曰：
蟾宮花史王仙。知是桂保，有王恂五古一首：
青青月中掛，花開已及秋。皎皎蟾宮女，臨鏡常自愁。自從竊藥奔，與世無因由。廣寒二萬戶，珍珠十二樓。圓圓復缺缺，輪轉日一周。世人徒仰望，不見蛾眉修。蓬萊水清淺，或可操神舟。銀河望隔浦，七夕訴離憂。唯此一輪月，梯虹亦難求。安得張麗華，縞素來嬉遊。
琴仙道：「好詩，好詩！讀之令人口齒俱香。蕊香真像嫦娥。」桂保道：「不是我，這是蟾宮花史。」眾人說道：「這些詩詞贊語，他們倒是爭奇角勝，那裡記著本人？就是竹君的詩，與靜宜、庾香這兩個贊語，倒是切定題目說的。」琴仙道：「都切得很。你將這些詩更換了人，便不像了。」寶珠道：「只有靜芳那一首，再不能更換的。」琴仙再看第十一方，畫一個杏花，下有一個仙女，珠腰玉衱，十分嫵媚，題曰：及第花史。知是琪官，看顏仲清的序文：
及第花史秦仙，嬉戲人間，見之者有「紅杏枝頭春意鬧」之比。明眸善睞，笑靨常開；豔粉縈情，斷紅映肉；裊釵雀化，明鏡鸞飛。貯金屋以何嫌，映玉屏而同色。然而久心未許，烈性常存。當機織女，屢見投梭；出水神妃，未逢解佩。雲袿風動，生步步之金蓮；霧縠香飄，訝朝朝之瓊樹。誰不曰人間絕世，亦何愧仙處無雙。若論六宮粉黛，定讓龍頭；以雲一歲花司，是真鳳尾。
琴仙痛贊了一會。蕙芳道：「你看這些詩文，各有體裁，正是格律不混，體制判然，都是作手，難定優劣。」琴仙道：「雖是些小文章，但吉光片羽，彩散人間，終勝雀屏五色。有此一贊，也不孤負我們數年辛若了。」眾人都皆歡喜。
琴仙就在九香樓吃了飯，坐了閒談。寶珠忽然說道：「今日眾兄弟都在一處，我想我們這十個人，同在京師沉淪菊部，如今個個跳了出來，雖然其中受苦的受苦，安逸的安逸，但自此以後，只要各人安分守已，想必沒有風波出來。但我們這一班人，也算不得世間少有的。那一班名士將我們抬舉到這個地位，那倒是世間少有，你們心上感激不感激呢？」眾人道：「豈有不感之理。」寶珠道：「感激便思怎樣報答呢？」眾人皆不能對。寶珠道：「我想個報答的法子。他們既將我們刻了像，做了花神，我們何不也將他們刻了像，就在樓上供養起來？他們稱我們為花史，我們就稱他們為文星，仿司空《詩品》，各作四言贊語一首，刻在上面。你們想這個報答可好麼？」素蘭道：「這個是極妙，但我們的詩配不上他們。且請誰畫這些像呢？」蕙芳道：「就是瑤卿，你與小梅兩人分畫罷，也不必畫服飾，不衫不履的最妙。我們今晚先把贊語做起，明日與他們看看，然後再畫。我們就各人還各人的禮，一個贊也不甚費力。」
琴仙心上甚喜，就辭了回家，到晚上構思起來，子玉面前也未講起。這一晚各人的贊已做成。
明日，琴仙先到九香樓將贊與眾人看了，大家拿來評定一會，又各自斟酌一會，再公同推敲一會，盡善盡美了，寶珠便謄在一處。諸名士紛紛已到，華公子、金吉甫也都到了。大家果然要祭花神，寶珠等攔住了，然猶擺了香案，各名士奠酒焚香，就沒有下拜。然後在九香樓下擺了四席，序齒而坐。這一聚，正是人人意滿，個個心歡，毫無不足之處。而且羅列珍饈，橫陳肴錯，花香人氣，繚繞一堂。
酒至半酣，寶珠避席致辭說：「寶珠等十人同入迷津，今登覺岸。將來勉蓋前愆，勤修後果，得齒於人，皆諸貴人提拔之力。但感恩有心，報德無力，唯有日▉清香一炷，以祝諸貴人福壽綿長，榮華白首。昨日我等十人公同商議，亦欲在九香樓上，供設諸貴人文星祿位，也照樣刻石，朝夕頂禮皈依，且各綴數語於後，當虔心誦佛。不識諸貴人不以賤地為鄙，俗筆為褻，使我等得遂所願否？」眾名士大喜，個個情願，倒翻謙讓了幾句。寶珠又道：「度香先生提唱風雅，只得另立一品，在各位文星之上，曰：群仙領袖。未知諸貴人以為然否？」眾人皆說：「是極。」子雲說：「這個何敢？」寶珠就將詩稿恭恭敬敬的取出來，卻已謄在一處，端正的楷書。除群仙領袖徐文星之次，皆以年齒定的先後，第二是仙中逸品蕭文星，第三是仙中趣品高文星，第四是仙中狂品史文星，第五是仙中高品顏文星，第六是仙中和品劉文星，第七是仙中樂品王文星，第八是仙中華品田文星，第九是仙中豪品華文星，第十是仙中上品金文星，第十一是仙中正品梅文星。眾名士謙讓道：「這些個品格過於謬贊了。」遂看第一首，是他們十人公撰的，題曰：《群仙領袖》：
群仙領袖，能兼眾為。不脫不黏，不即不離。得大自在，具廣設施。亦無我欲，亦無我私。素月流天，照靡有遺。青空無雲，霄露自降。大鐘中虛，寸挺可撞。
第二首是金漱芳題的《仙中逸品》：
惟逸故淡，惟逸故閒。鶴鳴在林，雲臥於山。秋花娟妍，清風往還。望彼竹林，客有笑顏。濯足清澗，抱琴禪關。江臯有梅，籬落有菊。小窗分茶，松花自熟。
第三首是玉林題的《仙中趣品》：
亂頭粗服，不亞妍妝。嬉笑怒罵，皆成文章。東方詼諧，淳於隱藏。顛倒四座，縱橫滿堂。言不為虐，行不失方。悠哉悠哉，聊復爾爾。彌勒一笑，皆大歡喜。
第四首是王蘭保題的《仙中狂品》：
呼龍耕煙，磨刀割雲。狂飈四起，落花紛紛。手捉明月，腹曬斜曛。悠悠青天，落落人群。醉死醉生，我不與聞。碧海騎鯨，瑤京散髮。冠裳自嘉，奈此仙骨。
第五首是秦琪官題的《仙中高品》：
孤鶴沖煙，歸鴻遠飛。渺渺天際，雲間翠微。獨立千仞，好風吹衣。秋庭仰望，月明星稀。古松自挺，碧蘿難依。太華入雲，蓬萊隔水。誰登其峰，徒興仰止。
第六首是林春喜題的《仙中和品》：
五味調劑，五聲和平。暖氣入律，春風自行。旭日靄靄，晴光爭明。雲輝錦集，月滿川盈。《霓裳》一曲，《簫韶》九成。不矜不莊，或休或暇。惠而好我，是曰柳下。
第七首是王桂保題的《仙中樂品》：
粹然中和，其樂陶陶。軫畦悉泯，坦白是交。醉月秋夕，擁花春朝。洞房香暖，金殿聲高。心香吐萼，意蕊含苞。曰富曰康，如賓如友。妻子好合，父母眉壽。
第八首是蘇蕙芳題的《仙中華品》：
錦衣晝行，玉貌簪花。璧月宵滿，明珠吐華。旭旭朝陽，燦燦流霞。金盤承露，粉壁籠紗。莊嚴妙相，天女笄珈。玉佩自鳴，貂褕為飾。雲近蓬萊，望之五色。
第九首是陸素蘭題的《仙中豪品》：
佩刀列戟，鑄券剖符。以我如意，碎彼珊瑚。紫絲步障，紅錦貂褕。浩歌落落，噀玉噴珠。太白自賞，擊缺唾壺。朔風橫空，雪花如掌。吹角輪臺，久無嗣響。
第十首是袁寶珠題的《仙中上品》：
無上上品，首推此君。靜者多妙，飄然不群。具大智慧，博學多聞。溫良沖淡，《九丘》《三墳》。磊磊落落，抱璞含芬。高談雄辯，說劍論文。不合時宜，瀟灑凌雲。
第十一首是屈琴仙題的《仙中正品》：
朱為正色，雅為正聲。射以觀德，惟身是程。哀樂至性，而無過情。珠光月彩，內蘊晶瑩。虞弦夏舞，景運休明。醴泉非水，瑞芝非草。景星慶雲，僉曰恒少。
眾名士看完，喜動顏色，痛贊不已，說道：「可謂木桃之投，而得瓊瑤之報矣。」是日暢飲歡呼而散。
素蘭與春喜各畫幾日，摹上了石，將贊語書丹，共有二十餘日完竣。擇於三月三日，供設九香樓上，為長生祿位。琴仙過來與寶珠商量，必須作一篇祝文，方表誠意，寶珠等深以為然。於是十人公同斟酌，湊在一篇文，改削了幾遍，倒也不見聯綴痕跡。寶珠道：「明日公祝，須請齊了諸名士來。再，我們跳出梨園，從前一切的所有之物，都用不著了，孽根須淨，色界盡除，將那所存的釵鈿首飾，當著眾名士，一齊熔化，舞袖歌裙，則一火而焚之，豈不爽快？」眾人道：「正合我等之意。只有琴仙沒有這些東西了，大家檢出來聚在一處，明日焚化。」到了初三，九香樓上香花簇擁，蔬果紛陳，花排姐妹之班，雁次弟兄之序。寶珠虔誠恭敬，鋪設了一會，諸名士齊到。上得樓來，已見紅燭雙輝，香煙雲繞。十花史請他們坐了，便齊齊的拜起來，諸名士如何肯受？連忙扶起。寶珠道：「昨日玉儂說的，要做篇祝文，我等胡亂湊了一篇，還求改正改正。」
便將祝文拿出來。高品道：「好的，我就讀起來。」高品高聲朗讀，諸名士傾耳而聽。聽得高品讀道：
維年月日，九香樓弟子花史袁寶珠等，謹□百和之香，釀百花之酒，獻於諸文星之座而祝曰：維彼文星，川岳之靈，左奎右璧，緯史經綸。故在天為列宿，在世為傳人。其光明也如火，其和煦也如春。其根於性也，為綱常倫紀；其見於詞也，為變化奇神。言必由中，情多自妙。天籟一聲，空號萬竊。緒觸而紛，絲縈而繞。對鏡自看，顧影獨笑。索實於虛，辨惡於好。春風秋月，不知其他。明眸皓齒，當如之何？粉白黛綠，鐵馬金戈。清歌宛轉，妙舞婆娑。倏若馳駟，委若逝波。傷古今之一轍，恒日月之消磨。鑒彼造化，作為文章。群分以物，類聚以方。酬□太白，顛倒雌黃。和於琴瑟，亮比笙簧。纏綿騷雅，姿肆韓莊。不怪不亂，取豔取香。寓意嚴正，措詞明光。朱霞麗天而絢彩，金刀映日而生芒。泉瀉澗而注急，花凌風而舞狂。秋零一庭，殘香數星。鬼則夜哭，神則晝驚。鑄鼎象物，盡相窮形。魔女旁立，龍姑前迎。金枝翠羽，電掣雷鳴。拂箋霍小玉，捧研董雙成。神娥授筆，使之為文。祝曰：筆之色兮有五，筆之花兮半含吐，砰石訇聲聲擊天鼓，青鸞鳴兮紫鳳舞，小言詹詹兮足千古。
祝文讀完，眾花史齊齊下拜了，便將那些舞衫歌扇、翠羽金鈿，在園中太湖石畔燒化起來。諸名士看那火光五色，吐金閃綠。將到燒完時，忽然一陣香風，將那灰燼吹上半空，飄飄點點，映著一輪紅日，像無數的花朵與蝴蝶飛舞，金迷紙醉，香氣撲鼻，越旋越高，到了半天，成了萬點金光，一閃不見。
園中萬花如笑，顫巍巍的像要說話一般。正是：
親逢天女散花時，手授生花筆一枝。
碧海愁多填未滿，蓬山路遠到無期。
風塵面目輪蹄跡，徐庾文章溫李詩。
我自有情君莫問，此中得失寸心知。
Here is the paragraph-by-paragraph English translation:
The story goes that after the New Year passed, it was now the Lantern Festival. The six streets and three markets were filled with fireworks and lanterns, and it was very lively. On the thirteenth, Ziyun invited Master Hua, Tian Chunhang, Mei Ziyu, Shi Nanxiang, Gao Pin, Yan Zhongqing, Liu Wenze, Wang Xun, Xiao Cixian, Jin Su, Qu Qinxian, and the members of Jiuxiang Garden for a grand gathering. When Qin Xian saw Master Hua, he still felt a bit uneasy, but Master Hua did not mention the past and treated him with proper courtesy. At this time, Qin Xian had already left the troupe of actors and joined the scholarly group. However, unlike the arrogance he displayed when he was an actor, he now behaved humbly, which made everyone respect him even more. No one laughed at him. Qin Xian was still on good terms with the famous actors he used to associate with, and there was no awkwardness. That day, drinks flowed freely, and in the evening, the lanterns glowed brilliantly. After Master Hua entered the city, Ziyun spent some time testing the lanterns, which appeared as if a myriad of flowers were blooming. The sound of firecrackers could be heard from miles away, and only after the second watch (late night) did they brew tea and engage in casual conversation.
Qin Xian had endured countless hardships in his life, but at this moment, he finally felt as though all his troubles had been resolved. Yet, when he thought back to the desolation of the Xiao Temple, the lonely lamp, and the fading moon, it all seemed like a dream. Cixian then recounted Qin Xian’s past dream in detail to Jifu. Jifu laughed and said to Ziyun and Cixian, “Jiuxiang Garden is a beautiful place, with all kinds of flowers. Yet, there is only one Flower Deity tablet, placed in a hidden corner like a shrine to the local land deity. Isn’t that disrespectful to the Flower Deity? I propose making the nine of them into the ‘Nine Fragrant Flower Historians.’ What do you all think?”
Everyone thought it was a curious idea and asked for more details. Cixian said, “I’ve had this idea for a long time. I want to paint small portraits of the nine of them. Now that you’ve mentioned this, it’s a wonderful plan. Tomorrow, I’ll start painting each one, and you can add some finishing touches. Then, we can have it engraved on stone and offered at Jiuxiang Garden as a Flower Deity statue. But there are only nine of them, so we can’t make a full set of twelve.” Everyone agreed that it was a brilliant idea. Jifu said, “I actually have a suggestion, but I’m not sure if it’s feasible.”
Ziyun asked, “What is it?” Jifu replied, “If we must have twelve Flower Deities, we can complete the set by making Master Qu the ruler of Chengdu and incorporating the immortal maiden Du mentioned by Yunong in her previous life. Wouldn’t that make twelve in total?” Chunhang exclaimed, “Brilliant, brilliant! The portraits must resemble them, but there’s no need to use their real names. We can give each one a pseudonym, and each person should write a eulogy, something that blurs the line between truth and illusion, to unite the person with the flower.” Ziyu asked, “What should this portrait look like? Should it focus solely on the person, or should we add background scenery?” Zhongqing replied, “Of course, it should focus solely on the person. Paint them all together, and later, we can add a short biography for each one. After engraving it on stone, we can make rubbings of it, which could be bound into booklets or scrolls and passed down through generations.” Wenze added, “Let’s make two stone slabs and inlay them on the east and west walls.” Wang Xun said, “If we’re going to paint the immortal maiden Du, let’s depict her as she was in the lotus boat.” Jifu said, “When Yunong dreamed of that mirror, it must have had a reason. I’ll paint a dragon holding that mirror and make it the first piece. How does that sound?” Everyone agreed, “Excellent.” Ziyu said, “People will surely guess there’s some hidden meaning in that dragon and cloud.” Ziyun remarked, “Let’s each take one of these eleven biographies and eulogies.” Cixian agreed, “Alright. This great work must rely on Jifu to be passed down.” Jifu humbly replied, “How could I dare?”
Cixian said, “Don’t be so modest. After Mr. Daosheng passed, the art of brush and ink must naturally pass to you. Everyone agrees, so why decline? I’ll take care of the dragon and cloud piece, and after I finish it, you can revise it for me.” Ziyun added, “We’ll definitely rely on both of you. As for the ten pieces, here’s the plan: we’ll draw lots to assign each person. Let’s also ask Huaxing Bei to contribute one.” Nanxiang agreed, “That sounds great.” So, they wrote down the lots, dividing Master Qu, the immortal maiden Du, and Qin Xian into three lots, while the remaining nine were divided into nine. Strangely enough, as if there were some literary magic or karmic connection from past lives, Ziyun drew Master Qu, Ziyu drew the immortal maiden Du and Qin Xian, Jin Su drew Baozhu, Chunhang drew Huifang, Zhongqing drew Qiguan, Wenze drew Chunxi, Nanxiang drew Lanbao, Wang Xun drew Guibao, Gao Pin drew Yulin, and Cixian drew Sujiu. Only Su Lan remained unassigned, so they gave it to Master Hua to handle. After everyone had been assigned, Ziyu said, “Writing the biographies is easy, but painting the portraits is difficult. We also have to engrave the stones, which will take some time. How many days will it take to finish everything?” Jifu replied, “It won’t take long. The stone slabs are already polished and ready. As I paint, we can ask Ji Shiaizi to find someone to start engraving. It should take about ten days. Once the slabs are embedded in the walls, it will take a few more days. Since we’re all here in Jiuxiang Garden, why not stay for a few more days so I can focus on the painting? Let’s gather here again on the first day of the second lunar month.” Everyone agreed, and they dispersed.
Ziyu and Qin Xian returned home together, feeling content with a virtuous wife inside the house and talented friends outside. With fame achieved and status secure, they felt both noble and refined, and their spirits were high. Ziyun wrote a letter to Master Hua, requesting him to write the biography for Su Lan. Meanwhile, Cixian, with his talented brush and creative mind, took ten days to finish the paintings. After completing them, he asked Jifu to make revisions one by one. For each painting completed, an engraving was made, and the process went quite quickly. Ziyun, who had caught a severe cold and could not focus, requested that the portraits of Master Qu, Qin Xian, and the immortal maiden Du be drawn on one piece, and he asked Ziyu to write the eulogies. By the twenty-seventh day, even the eulogies had been engraved, with each person contributing their own calligraphy. On the twenty-eighth, they moved the slabs to Jiuxiang Garden and embedded them in the walls, finishing everything in one day.
Let me know if you need any further clarifications!
Here is the paragraph-by-paragraph English translation:
On the thirtieth day, Qin Xian was the first to arrive at Jiuxiang Garden to look at the stone tablets, followed by the nine others who also came to the building. Qin Xian said, “Today, we should offer a sacrifice to the Flower Deity, so that tomorrow we can hold our gathering. These portraits of us represent the Flower Deity. If we ask others to offer the sacrifice, it would not be appropriate, so let the ten of us make the offering instead.” Huifang and the others agreed. They prepared wine and fruit, burned fine incense, and the ten of them worshiped together. Qin Xian looked at the first painting embedded on the eastern wall. Above, there were clouds; below, water. Between the clouds and water, a dragon was faintly visible, showing one claw holding a mirror. The inscription above read: “The Precious Mirror of Appreciating Flowers.” The eulogy inscribed by Cixian was:
“Above, not in heaven; below, not on earth. Clouds rise to the nine skies, water springs from deep abysses. Mysterious transformations, countless phenomena. The roundness of the magic pearl, the clarity of the suspended mirror. It illuminates the obscure and reveals the virtuous and the vile. Like the moon descending, like fresh water flowing. It is said to have no flaws, yet its beauty is incomparable.”
The second painting depicted a man wearing a scholar’s cap and a Daoist robe, with a male and a female celestial attendant on either side. The inscription read: “The Master of the Nine Fragrant Flowers, Daoist Lord of the Three Realms, and the Flower Historians Du Xian.” Below was an eulogy written by Ziyu:
“His aura is cloud, his spirit is water; whether in heaven or on earth, it is boundless and unceasing. He governs literature as a minister, he governs flowers as a master. He is the essence of the stars, the ancestor of all flowers. To the left, bright jade; to the right, blue coral. One breath becomes two, the paths converge in divergence. Five colors shimmer, nine flowers emit fragrance. Heart blossoms, mind petals—these are the auspicious signs of literary fortune.”
Baozhu said, “These eulogies are truly well done. But if we were to describe our real lives in them, while it may not be dishonorable, it still reflects our humble occupations.” Huifang agreed, “Exactly! Look at those flower catalogs and reviews; even though they praise people’s beauty and talent, they still carry the habits of the opera world. With this, we can say that we’ve transcended those limitations.” Sulan and the others nodded in agreement with a sigh.
Qin Xian then looked at the third painting, which depicted a celestial maiden with cloud-like hair and misty clothing, her beauty incomparable. She held a branch of Huifang flowers, and Qin Xian immediately knew it was Huifang. The inscription read: “The Flower Historian of Brocade Letters, Su Xian.” Chunhang had written the following eulogy:
“The Flower Historian of Brocade Letters, Su Xian, has a nature sharp and alert, her beauty like flawless jade. Her skin is like snow, her bones carved from the moon. She scatters flowers and cuts out colors, she tosses rice and it becomes pearls. Her wit and magic powers, all from the depths of mastery. She once played in the human world, leaving regrets among the peach blossoms. Her celestial figure at Jiangkou, sometimes visible, sometimes not; her divine radiance at Luopu, now departing, now returning. Xiao Shi always lingers with the colorful phoenix, but Pei Hang is forever separated by the Blue Bridge. Thus, she is meant to weave a tenfold pearl net to guard the golden house atop the mountain of jade; how fortunate to glimpse the nine-fold silver screen and behold her true face beneath the moonlit jade terrace.”
Qin Xian remarked, “This eulogy is quite accurate, especially the lines ‘wit and magic powers, all from the depths of mastery,’ which are particularly marvelous.” Huifang laughed and said, “No matter how they describe it, do we really count for much?”
They looked at the fourth painting, which depicted a celestial maiden adorned with a moon pendant and wearing colorful robes, her beauty radiant. She held a bright pearl in her hand. The inscription read: “The Flower Historian of Playing with Pearls, Yuan Xian.” Jin Su’s eulogy followed:
“The celestial dew is in the sky, the bright pearl emerges from the sea; in harmony with the spring spirit, elegance transforms into brilliance. Without legs it travels, without night it shines. The jade flower, the fragrant bloom, national beauty, heavenly fragrance. A pearl-adorned chariot, robes sewn with cloud brocade. Golden branches and emerald feathers, jade … shining clear. Bright moonlight fills the sky, the path to Mount Peng is long. Both elegant and refined, she is lofty yet graceful. Among the scholars of the palace, she stands at the forefront.”
Qin Xian said, “Yaoying’s stunning beauty has been fully captured by Jingyi’s painting and brought out by Jifu’s eulogy.” Baozhu added, “To be considered a Flower Deity, do I really deserve such praise?” They looked at the fifth painting, which depicted a celestial maiden with a graceful and ethereal presence, her pure beauty almost flowing outward. She held an orchid flower in her hand. The inscription read: “The Flower Historian of Pure Heart, Lu Xian.” Below was a short biography written by Master Hua:
“Lu Xian has a quick wit and peerless beauty, her talents surpassing those of others. She often wears purple gauze and strolls among the wind and dew. Her entire being exudes a pure fragrance, which harmonizes with the scents of orchids and Huifang flowers. She is skilled in poetry and calligraphy, her works circulating among people, though a thousand pieces of gold could not buy them. Once, Zhong Rong commented on poetry, saying that Yan Yanzhi’s intricate use of gold and color could not match the lotus bloom at dawn by Xie Kangle. Her face and elegance, they are unmatched, and she may well be the incarnation of a lotus flower.”
Let me know if you need further clarifications or another translation.
Here is the paragraph-by-paragraph English translation:
Qin Xian laughed and said, “These few lines capture your likeness even better than Xiangwan’s little portrait. The lines ‘wearing purple gauze and reciting poems in the wind and dew’ and ‘the incarnation of a lotus flower’ could not apply to anyone else. It’s truly you.” Sulan smiled and replied, “How could I possibly deserve such praise? Generally, when praising a Flower Deity, it’s only natural that the praise is as high as possible.” Qin Xian then looked at the sixth painting of a celestial maiden, delicate and fragile, with a graceful movement as if dancing in the wind, appearing light and agile as if floating in the palm of one’s hand. She wore a gold hairpin with dangling ornaments. The inscription read: “The Graceful Flower Historian, Jin Xian.” Below was a seven-character regulated verse by Xiao Cixian:
“Her delicate beauty is like the new moon rising, her natural radiance needs no embellishment.
From mandarin ducks’ brocade, nine-layered canopies are sewn, pearls of the mermaid string together the tenfold curtain.
Hiding in the paradise of jade trees, returning from calamity with a token of jade’s secret.
But I fear that immortals cannot stay, as the morning wind blows towards the green cloud’s tip.”
Qin Xian remarked, “This captures Shouxiang’s delicate spirit and appearance perfectly.” Shoufang laughed and said, “That ‘slim’ description fits me somewhat, but the rest makes me feel rather ashamed.” Then they looked at the seventh painting of a celestial maiden, standing beneath two jade trees, with the trees bending gracefully in the wind. The inscription read: “The Gentle Flower Historian, Li Xian,” and the poem was by Gao Pin. Qin Xian commented, “Would Gao Zoran ever say something nice?” Yulin responded, “This time he didn’t criticize anyone.” Huifang said, “This poem is actually quite excellent.” Qin Xian read it:
“The flower’s sentiment, the moon’s glow evoke her gentleness, jade trees swaying in the breeze add to her grace.
In the chamber, she knows not the worth of the orchid’s musk, in her dream, she shyly becomes the immortal of rain and clouds.
On coral pillows, a red flush rises, from the jade tower, green mist locks in place.
Banished to guard the solitary heaven of Tiantai, the peach blossoms flow down year after year.”
Qin Xian remarked, “This is truly well-written; it captures Peixian’s delicate fragrance and graceful charm.” Yulin said, “This poem is not entirely without critique; there’s still some sharpness in it. Look at the lines about the chamber and the dream—what’s so good about them?” Huifang responded, “There’s nothing wrong with that. It just highlights her delicate beauty and noble character.” Baozhu added, “Zoran’s poems are as good-hearted as he gets. If you asked him to be more solemn, he wouldn’t refuse, but his slick tongue always leans towards this style. When has he ever spoken seriously in his life? Jifu mentioned a funny story from last year when Zoran visited the capital. Zoran has an uncle who invited him to dinner, along with several guests. The uncle asked him, ‘How was my household when you returned home last year?’ Zoran replied, ‘It was great! Last month, Aunt gave birth to a cousin.’ The uncle was shocked, thinking, ‘I haven’t been home for three or four years—how could I have a son?’ In front of the guests, he couldn’t ask more questions, and while the guests found it odd, they assumed Zoran was talking about a different aunt. After the guests left, the uncle asked Zoran, ‘What was that you said earlier?’ Can you imagine Zoran’s reply? He said, ‘Since it was our first meeting, I thought I should say something lucky, so I just made it up. There was no truth to it.’ His uncle was furious but couldn’t do anything about it. Even with close relatives, Zoran makes jokes, so what can you expect from him with others?” Everyone burst out laughing, saying, “Jifu’s sharp tongue can’t compete with his.”
They then looked at the eighth painting, which depicted a celestial maiden with jade-like features, wearing embroidered garments, a sword at her waist, resembling the style of Gongsun Da-niang. The inscription read: “The Heroic Hidden Flower Historian, Wang Xian.” Qin Xian knew this referred to Lanbao, and below was a seven-character ancient-style poem by Shi Nanxiang:
“I watch Wang Xian dance with the divine sword, in her hand, the cold spring pulls a single thread.
The drums begin to beat thrice, the wind’s brightness rushes to greet her.
A rainbow reflects on the water, forming a circle, lightning flashes through the clouds, as sharp as thread.
She breaks apart the sinking green spear, flicks away the falling giant feathers of arrows.
Her embroidered garments and jade-like features are graceful, white throat, red cheeks, long blue eyebrows.
Her cloud skirt lightly lifts with embroidered boots rising, leaving like a bird, returning like thunder.
The spectators from all directions crowd around, not admiring heroes but her enchanting grace.
Her green-cloud-piled hair and fresh jade ornaments, nine beams adorned with flowers and ancient hairpins.
She borrows the sword for protection, not for fame, cherishing her delicate life.
Look at the yellow-robed men of the world, how many vendettas remain unresolved.”
Qin Xian praised, “This ancient-style poem is truly well done; when recited, it captures the essence even better than ‘The Sword Dance of Gongsun Da-niang.’” Wang Lanbao smiled without speaking. Huifang remarked, “Last year when Xi Eleven caused trouble, if it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t have known what to do.” Sulan asked, “So you’re afraid of Xi Eleven? Is he more troublesome than Pan San?” Huifang replied, “Pan San is useless, but when Xi Eleven causes trouble, he’s like that coachman Wei Pintai sent the other day—don’t you fear him?” Lanbao asked, “What would you have done if I hadn’t been home that day?” Huifang responded, “I would have just hidden and not come out.” Qin Xian asked what Xi Eleven had done, and Lanbao imitated his behavior, which made Qin Xian laugh. Huifang said, “I heard Xi Eleven left the capital, but the other day I saw someone at the barbershop who looked exactly like that boy he brought with him. If it wasn’t him, then it must have been his brother—there’s no other way someone could look that similar.” Lanbao replied, “Maybe Xi Eleven didn’t take him away after all. That rascal is only fit to work as a barber.”
Qin Xian then looked at the ninth painting, which depicted a plum tree with a magpie perched on its branches. Under the tree stood a celestial maiden. The inscription read: “The Spring Herald Flower Historian, Lin Xian.” Below was a short ode by Liu Wenze:
“On the branches of the plum tree, the bird heralds spring, beneath the tree, a jade-like figure leans.
Du Lanxiang’s marriage was not to be seen, but the green calyx of flowers connects us to the truth.
Her green sleeves flutter, her plain garments are elegant.
Her charm is innate, her beauty flows from within.
Without jewelry, she is even more beautiful, without makeup, she is even more delicate.
Slender as a new moon in the clouds, faint as clear smoke outside the flowers.
The autumn waters fill the riverbanks, the morning glow adorns the sky.
What virtue led to such a result? Could she be human, or truly a celestial being?
The orchid blooms on its own, the chrysanthemum flourishes with its fragrance.
When will I forget my yearning for such a beauty?
The path to Penglai is shallow and unreachable, yet I wish to ride the phoenix to follow her.
The heavenly wind blows my sleeves swiftly, the jade dew chills my robes.
I write with delicate strokes, hesitating as I face her jade-like appearance.”
Let me know if you need further clarification or assistance.
Here is the paragraph-by-paragraph English translation:
Qin Xian said, “What a fine ode! It truly captures the pine wind and bamboo rain, the immortal dew and bright pearl, and perfectly portrays your grace and elegance.” Chunxi said, “This is the same as when a boatman becomes so absorbed in composing an ode that he forgets the subject.” Qin Xian responded, “It also reflects your very demeanor.” Next, they looked at the tenth painting, which depicted a celestial maiden under a cassia tree, exuding elegance and charm, with blue eyes and a gentle gaze. The inscription read: “The Flower Historian of the Moon Palace, Wang Xian.” Knowing this referred to Guibao, they read the five-character ancient-style poem by Wang Xun:
“Green leaves sway beneath the hanging moon,
The flowers bloom as autumn approaches.
The bright maiden of the Moon Palace,
Looks in the mirror and often sighs.
Ever since she stole the elixir and fled,
She has had no connection to the mortal world.
In the cold palace, twenty thousand households,
Twelve floors adorned with pearls.
Round and full, then waning and incomplete,
It rotates once every day.
Mortals gaze up in vain,
Unable to see her crescent brows.
The clear waters of Penglai seem shallow,
Perhaps one could steer a divine boat.
The Milky Way divides the shores,
On the seventh night, they speak of their parting sorrows.
Yet this single moon,
Even the rainbow bridge cannot reach.
How could Zhang Lihua,
In simple attire, come to frolic?”
Qin Xian praised, “What a beautiful poem! Reading it is like tasting fragrance in your mouth. Ruixiang really resembles Chang’e.” Guibao replied, “That’s not me; it’s the Flower Historian of the Moon Palace.” Everyone said, “These poems and eulogies seem to compete with each other in excellence, but none of them truly describe the person. Only Zhu Jun’s poem, along with Jingyi’s and Yuxiang’s eulogies, match the subject exactly.” Qin Xian added, “All of them are fitting. If you were to replace these poems with other names, they wouldn’t suit.” Baozhu said, “Only Jingfang’s poem is absolutely irreplaceable.”
Qin Xian then looked at the eleventh painting, which depicted a celestial maiden beneath an apricot blossom, with a jeweled belt and jade buttons, radiating charm and beauty. The inscription read: “The Flower Historian of Success.” Knowing this was Qiguan, they read the preface by Yan Zhongqing:
“The Flower Historian of Success, Qin Xian,
Playfully strolls in the mortal world,
Those who see her think of the phrase
‘The boughs of the red apricot are bursting with the energy of spring.’
Her bright eyes are full of spirit,
Her smile always blossoming.
Her beauty entangles the heart,
As the fading red contrasts her fair skin.
Her hairpin transforms into a sparrow,
The bright mirror reflects the flying phoenix.
Storing her in a golden house—what harm is there?
She matches the jade screen in all her splendor.
Yet her heart has long remained unyielding,
Her fierce spirit ever persistent.
Like the Weaver Maid tossing her shuttle,
Or the Water Goddess, who has yet to remove her belt.
Her cloudlike robes flutter in the wind,
With each step, her golden lotuses bloom.
The fragrance of her misty silks lingers,
Morning after morning, by the jade trees.
Who wouldn’t say she is unmatched in the world?
What shame is there in being a unique immortal?
In comparison to the beauties of the six palaces,
She would undoubtedly surpass them all.
As a one-year administrator of flowers,
She is truly like the phoenix’s tail.”
Qin Xian praised it for a while. Huifang remarked, “Look at these poems and writings; each one follows its own style and form, with distinct structure and rhyme. They are all masterpieces, making it hard to judge which is better.” Qin Xian said, “Though they may be short pieces, they are like fragments of precious light scattered among people. In the end, they surpass the multi-colored screen of the parrot. Having such eulogies is a fitting reward for our years of effort.” Everyone was pleased.
Qin Xian stayed at Jiuxiang Garden for a meal and spent some time chatting idly. Suddenly, Baozhu said, “Since all our brothers are gathered here today, I’ve been thinking. The ten of us were all once struggling in the chrysanthemum troupe here in the capital. Now, each of us has escaped that life. Though some of us suffered more than others, and some lived more comfortably, from now on, as long as we live peacefully and abide by our own principles, I believe there will be no more trouble. But we ourselves are not so extraordinary. It is the famous scholars who have raised us to this position, and that is truly rare in this world. Do you feel grateful in your hearts?” Everyone responded, “How could we not feel gratitude?”
Baozhu continued, “If we feel grateful, how do we repay them?” No one could respond. Baozhu said, “I have an idea for how to repay them. Since they’ve already had our portraits made and honored us as Flower Deities, why don’t we also have their portraits made and enshrine them upstairs? They call us Flower Historians, so we’ll call them Literary Stars. We can imitate Sikong’s Poetry Critique and each compose a four-character eulogy for them to be engraved alongside the portraits. What do you think of this way of repaying them?”
Sulan said, “That’s a brilliant idea! But our poetry may not match theirs. Who would paint these portraits?” Huifang suggested, “Yaoying, you and Xiaomei can divide the task of painting. There’s no need to depict clothing—just leave them in informal dress, and that would be best. Tonight, let’s start writing the eulogies, and tomorrow we can show them the work. After that, we can paint the portraits. Each of us will handle our own eulogy, and it won’t take too much effort.”
Let me know if you need further clarification or assistance!
Here is the paragraph-by-paragraph English translation:
Qin Xian was very happy in his heart and said goodbye to return home. That night, he started thinking of ideas, but he didn’t mention anything to Ziyu. By the end of the evening, everyone had completed their eulogies.
The next day, Qin Xian was the first to arrive at Jiuxiang Pavilion and showed the eulogies to everyone. They all reviewed and evaluated them, each considering their own and others’ work. After some group discussion and refinement, the eulogies were perfected, and Baozhu copied them all neatly into one place. The scholars and famous figures began to arrive one by one, including Master Hua and Jin Jifu. As expected, they wanted to offer a sacrifice to the Flower Deity, but Baozhu and the others politely stopped them. However, they still set up an incense table, and each scholar offered wine and incense, though without bowing. Then, they arranged four banquet tables beneath Jiuxiang Pavilion, seating everyone according to seniority. This gathering was truly one where everyone was fully content, each person’s heart filled with joy, and nothing was lacking. Moreover, the tables were laden with exquisite delicacies, and the atmosphere was filled with the fragrance of flowers and the warmth of the people, swirling around the hall.
Halfway through the feast, Baozhu stood up and addressed the group, saying, “The ten of us entered the whirlpool of confusion together, and today we have reached the shore of enlightenment. Going forward, we will strive to correct our past mistakes and diligently cultivate our future. Whatever respect we receive from people is due entirely to the help of you esteemed gentlemen. Though we are deeply grateful, we have no means to repay such kindness. All we can offer is the daily incense of sincerity to pray for your long life, prosperity, and enduring honor. Yesterday, the ten of us discussed something together. We also wish to enshrine your literary stars at Jiuxiang Pavilion, just as you enshrined us as Flower Deities. We would have your portraits engraved on stone, so that we may offer our reverence and devotion morning and evening. We have also composed a few humble words to accompany the engravings and will sincerely recite them in our prayers. We hope you will not look down upon our humble status or mock our rustic writing. May we have your consent to fulfill this wish?” The scholars were delighted and each humbly accepted, though they expressed their modesty in a few words. Baozhu continued, “Since Master Duoxiang advocates elegance and grace, we have created a new category above the Literary Stars, called ‘Leader of the Immortals.’ What do you think?” Everyone said, “That is perfect.” Ziyun said, “How could I dare accept such an honor?” Baozhu then respectfully took out the poem drafts, which had already been neatly copied in regular script. After the title of “Leader of the Immortals, Xu Wenxing,” the order of the Literary Stars was arranged according to age: second was “The Uncommon Immortal, Xiao Wenxing,” third was “The Playful Immortal, Gao Wenxing,” fourth was “The Mad Immortal, Shi Wenxing,” fifth was “The Noble Immortal, Yan Wenxing,” sixth was “The Harmonious Immortal, Liu Wenxing,” seventh was “The Joyful Immortal, Wang Wenxing,” eighth was “The Elegant Immortal, Tian Wenxing,” ninth was “The Heroic Immortal, Hua Wenxing,” tenth was “The Refined Immortal, Jin Wenxing,” and eleventh was “The True Immortal, Mei Wenxing.” The scholars humbly protested, saying, “These titles are far too flattering.” Then they read the first poem, which the ten of them had composed together, titled “Leader of the Immortals”:
“Leader of the Immortals, capable of embracing all.
Neither detached nor clinging, neither near nor far.
Completely at ease, with boundless compassion.
Neither desiring self, nor holding onto ego.
The pure moon flows across the sky, illuminating all with nothing left out.
The blue sky without clouds, celestial dew descends naturally.
A great bell, hollow within, resounds with the lightest touch.”
The second poem, written by Jin Shoufang, was titled “The Uncommon Immortal”:
“Uncommon and thus serene, uncommon and thus at ease.
The crane cries from the forest, the clouds rest upon the mountain.
Autumn flowers bloom in beauty, the clear wind comes and goes.
Looking toward the bamboo grove, the guest smiles in delight.
Washing his feet in the clear stream, embracing the zither in meditation.
On the riverbank, there are plum trees, by the fence, there are chrysanthemums.
Through a small window, he brews tea, the pine flowers naturally steep.”
The third poem, written by Yulin, was titled “The Playful Immortal”:
“Disheveled hair and coarse clothing, yet no less beautiful than fine adornment.
Laughter, scolding, all become words of art.
Playfulness from the East, hidden deep like Chunyu.
Turning the hall upside down, filling the room with delight.
Words are never cruel, behavior never loses decorum.
So carefree, so carefree, laughing and chatting easily.
With one smile from Maitreya, everyone is filled with joy.”
The fourth poem, written by Wang Lanbao, was titled “The Mad Immortal”:
“Calling dragons to plow the clouds, sharpening swords to cut through them.
Fierce winds rise from all directions, scattering flowers in their wake.
Grasping the bright moon in his hand, basking in the setting sun with his belly.
Vast and boundless is the blue sky, distant and sparse are the crowds.
Drunk to death, drunk to life, I care not for the world.
Riding whales in the blue sea, letting my hair down in the jade capital.
My crown and robes suit me just fine, for I possess the bones of an immortal.”
Let me know if you need any further clarifications or assistance!
Here is the paragraph-by-paragraph English translation:
The fifth poem, composed by Qin Qiguan, was titled “The Noble Immortal”:
“A solitary crane soars through the mist,
A wild goose flies far away.
In the vastness of the sky,
Clouds float amidst the green peaks.
Standing alone on a towering cliff,
A gentle breeze blows through his robes.
In the autumn garden, I gaze up,
The moon shines brightly, the stars are few.
The ancient pine stands tall,
Yet the green vines struggle to cling.
Mount Hua reaches the clouds,
Penglai lies beyond the waters.
Who will climb its peak?
Only a longing gaze remains.”
The sixth poem, written by Lin Chunxi, was titled “The Harmonious Immortal”:
“Five flavors blend,
Five tones harmonize.
Warmth enters the melodies,
As the spring breeze moves on its own.
The rising sun gently glows,
Its rays compete for brightness.
Clouds shimmer like brocade,
The full moon overflows the river.
A tune of ‘Rainbow Garments,’
The music of ‘Xiao Shao’ in nine stages.
Neither arrogant nor solemn,
Sometimes resting, sometimes at ease.
Kind and beloved,
As the willows by the riverside.”
The seventh poem, by Wang Guibao, was titled “The Joyous Immortal”:
“In purity and harmony,
Joy flourishes.
All boundaries dissolve,
Honesty is our bond.
Drinking under the autumn moon,
Embracing flowers on a spring morning.
The fragrant warmth of the inner chamber,
The high sounds of the golden hall.
Inwardly, the fragrance of thoughts blooms,
Outwardly, intentions bud.
Rich in wealth and health,
Like family and friends.
Wife and children in harmony,
Parents long-lived and happy.”
The eighth poem, composed by Su Huifang, was titled “The Elegant Immortal”:
“In brocade robes walking by day,
With a jade-like face adorned with flowers.
The full moon shines brightly at night,
While the luminous pearl radiates its light.
The rising sun glows brilliantly,
The colorful clouds spread across the sky.
A golden dish holds the dew,
A powdered wall veiled in silk.
With solemn and wondrous appearance,
A celestial woman wearing a jade crown.
Her jade pendants ring softly,
Adorned in furs of sable.
The clouds near Penglai,
In five colors they shine.”
The ninth poem, by Lu Sulan, was titled “The Heroic Immortal”:
“Wielding a sword and bearing halberds,
Casting seals and breaking tokens.
With my wishful staff,
I shatter their coral treasures.
A purple silk screen,
A red fur robe.
Singing loud songs,
Spouting jade and pearls.
Admiring the star of Taibai,
Striking the broken pot.
The north wind blows through the sky,
Snowflakes fall like palm leaves.
The horn sounds on the Wheel Tower,
Its echoes long gone.”
The tenth poem, written by Yuan Baozhu, was titled “The Superior Immortal”:
“Of all the superior, none surpass this one.
Silent and profound,
He moves freely, unmatched by others.
Possessing great wisdom,
Learned and well-read.
Gentle and humble,
With knowledge of the Nine Mounds and Three Graves.
Open and honest,
He holds jade with a fragrance within.
He speaks boldly,
Discussing swords and literature.
Unconventional,
Elegant and carefree, soaring above the clouds.”
The eleventh poem, by Qu Qin Xian, was titled “The Righteous Immortal”:
“Red is the proper color,
Elegance is the proper sound.
Shooting arrows reveals virtue,
The body is the measure.
In joy and sorrow, true feelings are shown,
But never beyond reason.
The light of pearls and the glow of the moon,
Inwardly, they shine with clarity.
Yu’s zither and Xia’s dance,
Bring peace and prosperity.
Sweet springs are not mere water,
Auspicious mushrooms are not mere plants.
Bright stars and celebratory clouds,
All proclaim this rare occurrence.”
After reading through the poems, the scholars were visibly delighted, praising the work enthusiastically. They said, “It can truly be said that by offering a peach, one receives precious jade in return.” That day, they drank and celebrated heartily before parting ways.
Sulan and Chunxi spent a few more days painting, then engraved the poems onto stone, with the inscriptions taking a total of over twenty days to complete. They chose the third day of the third month to enshrine the tablets at Jiuxiang Pavilion as symbols of longevity and honor. Qin Xian came to consult with Baozhu, suggesting that they should compose a ceremonial blessing to express their sincerity. Baozhu and the others agreed wholeheartedly. The ten of them worked together, carefully composing a blessing, revising it several times until the transitions were seamless. Baozhu said, “Tomorrow, when we offer the blessing, we must invite all the scholars. Also, since we have now left the world of the opera, we no longer need any of the items from our past lives. We should cleanse ourselves of all remnants of that world. Let’s gather all the hairpins, jewelry, and accessories we still have and, in front of the scholars, melt them down together. As for our costumes and dancing skirts, let’s burn them in a single fire. Wouldn’t that feel refreshing?” Everyone agreed, saying, “That’s exactly what we want to do. Qin Xian has nothing left from that world, so we will gather all our items and burn them tomorrow.”
On the third day, Jiuxiang Pavilion was filled with flowers and surrounded by offerings of fruits and vegetables. The Flower Historians arranged themselves like sisters in a row, while the brothers took their places like a flock of geese. Baozhu, full of sincerity and reverence, spent time carefully preparing the site. All the scholars arrived together, and as they ascended the pavilion, they saw red candles glowing and incense smoke swirling around. The ten Flower Historians invited the scholars to sit, and then they all bowed in unison. The scholars quickly stood up, refusing to accept the bow, and helped them rise. Baozhu said, “Yesterday, Yunnong mentioned that we should write a blessing. We put something together hastily and would appreciate your corrections.”
Let me know if you need further clarifications!
Here is the paragraph-by-paragraph English translation:
They then took out the blessing text. Gao Pin said, “Excellent, I shall read it aloud.” Gao Pin read in a loud voice, and the scholars all listened attentively. They heard Gao Pin read:
“On this day, we, the disciples of Jiuxiang Pavilion, the Flower Historians Yuan Baozhu and others, respectfully offer incense blended from a hundred fragrances and wine brewed from a hundred flowers, in dedication to the seats of the Literary Stars, and we offer this blessing:
‘The esteemed Literary Stars are the spirits of rivers and mountains, with the left hand guiding the stars of Kui and the right supporting the Bi constellation, weaving together the texts of history and managing the affairs of literature. Thus, in heaven, they form a constellation, and on earth, they become transmitters of knowledge. Their brilliance is like fire, and their warmth is like spring. Their roots lie in virtue, serving as the foundation of morals and ethics; their expression through words is the embodiment of transformation and the spirit of the extraordinary. Their words are sincere, and their emotions are profound. The sound of nature is a single note, but its echoes are countless. Thoughts emerge in abundance, threads intertwine and wind around. When they gaze into the mirror, they laugh at their own reflection. They seek truth from emptiness, discerning good from evil. The spring wind and autumn moon pass by unnoticed. Their bright eyes and gleaming teeth—how could they be compared? Pale faces and green eyebrows, iron steeds and golden spears. Their pure songs are melodious, their exquisite dances mesmerizing. Swift like galloping horses, flowing like waves. Lamenting the unchanging pattern of history, while the sun and moon continue to fade. Reflecting on the forces of nature, they create literary works. They divide the world by objects and gather things by their kind. They toast with wine, as in the days of Li Taibai, flipping words from male to female. They harmonize with the zither and resonate with the reed pipes. They are deeply entwined with elegance and grace, free in the style of Han and Zhuang. Neither strange nor chaotic, they seek beauty and fragrance. Their meanings are righteous, their words radiant. Red clouds embellish the sky with vibrant colors, and the golden blade reflects the sun with brilliance. The stream rushes rapidly through the gorge, flowers dance wildly in the wind. Autumn leaves scatter across the courtyard, only a few scattered stars remain. At night, ghosts weep, and by day, gods tremble in fear. They forge cauldrons to shape creatures, imitating their forms in every detail. Demonic women stand by, and dragon ladies greet them ahead. Golden branches and emerald feathers flash like lightning and thunder. They sweep their brushes like Huo Xiaoyu, and hold their inkstones like Dong Shuangcheng. The celestial maiden bestows the brush, making them capable of writing. The blessing says: The brush has five colors, and its flowers are half-bloomed. The sound of striking stone echoes like the beating of heavenly drums, the blue phoenix sings while the purple phoenix dances, and these small words will endure for eternity.’”
When the blessing was finished, the ten Flower Historians bowed together. Then, they took the dance costumes, fans, jade ornaments, and gold hairpins, and began to burn them by the Taihu rocks in the garden. The scholars watched as the flames emitted five colors, with golden sparks and green flashes. As the items were almost completely burned, a fragrant wind suddenly blew the ashes into the air. The ashes swirled, floating in the sky, illuminated by the red sun, resembling countless flowers and butterflies dancing, mesmerizing in their brilliance and fragrance. The ashes spun higher and higher, turning into countless points of golden light, and in an instant, they disappeared.
In the garden, all the flowers seemed to smile, trembling as if they wanted to speak. It was truly:
“One encounters the moment when celestial maidens scatter flowers,
And they hand a brush that brings life to words.
The blue sea is full of sorrows, yet not completely filled,
The road to Mount Penglai is long and far away.
Faces marked by dust and wheels,
Words of Xu and Yu, the poetry of Wen and Li.
I have my own feelings, but do not ask me,
The gains and losses of this, only my heart knows.”
Let me know if you need any further clarification!