"As for the good places in Jiangnan, Suzhou is definitely the best."
"It's so common, so common! Children on the street can sing it."
"The gardens south of the Yangtze River are the best in the world, and talented people and beauties compete to visit them. On the first day of the first lunar month, there is a great poetry festival, and I won the golden fan and peonies."
"Your poem is not even worth the price of the plate of fruits on the table. You still want to take away the golden fan and peonies?"
"The dark night clouds circle around the teeth, the stars in the cold river fall on the sand where the egrets sleep, and the passers-by look at Suliutai in despair. I have been with... I have been with..."
"You once swept away flowers with the King of Wu, right? You don't even know how to memorize them, but you dare to come to the poetry meeting? This poem "Remembering Gusu" is a poem by Mr. Jiang from the previous dynasty. Don't think that few people know about it. I can't And where’s his original form!”
"Plagiarists are the most shameful, fork them out!"
…
"Hahaha... I didn't leave my seat because I wanted to see your true talents, but it's really disappointing. I have to wear a mask, otherwise I don't know how many people would be blushing if I showed my true face!"
The person laughing was the man in green robe that we met at the door just now. He stood up and walked out of his seat, strode up to the high hall, and said with contempt to everyone:
"Listen carefully, this is called poetry——
Lingbo is crossing Hengtang Road, who will cross the road of poetry and wine?
Green clouds slowly cover the Heavenly Palace, and white snow greets the spring breeze. "
"What a poem, what a poem..."
"Rhyme, antithesis, artistic conception, all three. I have indeed been to Hengtang Road, and the description is vivid... Does this celebrity's voice sound familiar?"
"Oh, if you look at the jade pendant hanging on his waist, you will know that it is Mr. Ouyang Gong, the great talent of Hanshan Academy."
"It turns out he is a famous scholar in Suzhou. No wonder he can write this poem. I don't think we should compete. He must be the king of poetry tonight."
The whole hall was full of guests and they were full of praise.
Ouyang Gong raised his head proudly and asked loudly: "How is it? Is there anyone who has poems to challenge me?"
Jiang Yuntian was anxious and took Song Che and Liao Heng in his arms, "Aren't you two the best at composing poetry? Come up with a quatrain quickly, which is better than this guy."
Liao Heng frowned, "Regardless of his character, this poem is indeed good. I was thinking..."
"Damn, you're still a Jinshi!"
"Hey, Jinshi writes articles, not poems. His poem must have been carefully considered in the early years. It's really not easy to surpass him in improvisation."
Liao Heng turned his attention to Song Che, who looked confident, "I know you have good poems, don't hide them, take them out quickly."
Song Che smiled faintly, and wrote the poem with the pen and ink on the table, calmly and calmly: "Don't worry, there are so many people in the poetry club, there must be someone who can challenge me. I have good poems, but I have to make an appearance at the finale."
As soon as he finished speaking, the man in white sitting next to him stood up, walked slowly up the hall, and softly chanted:
“The wings of a mandarin duck, a phoenix, and a willow pond are filled with thousands of fish;
The green pines and green bamboos are true family guests, and the bright moon and clear breeze are old friends. "
"What a poem, what a poem..."
"Mandarin ducks, phoenixes, willows, pond fish, green pines, green bamboos, bright moon, breeze, all echo each other. Reading this poem makes people think about it and yearn for love!"
"I guess this young man came to this poetry club to find a lover, right? Hahaha!"
The male guests were full of praise, and many female guests secretly ran out of the screen to have a look at the poet.
"What a gentle and talented young man, but I don't know what he looks like behind the mask?"
"If you have such a great talent, why should you care about your appearance?"
The man in white remained calm. He only glanced at Ouyang Gong and said softly: "Mr. Ouyang, I accept the concession."
Ouyang Gong was about to write a poem to retort, but as soon as it came to his lips, he felt it was inappropriate. He snorted helplessly and walked back to his seat to sit down.
"Brother Jiang, it's your turn."
Song Che elbowed Jiang Yuntian, and at the same time handed him a poem, and whispered in his ear: "The poem above can make you the king of poetry, and the following two sentences can make you the king of poetry." , such and such, such and such..."
After Jiang Yuntian listened, he looked at the poem, confused, and asked Song Che: "Why don't you go? How do I look like the King of Poetry? More like the King of Beheading!"
"Hey, you have to have confidence in yourself, listen to me, listen to me, you can't make mistakes, you can't make mistakes, go quickly, go quickly."
"Oh, it's okay if you let me go on the field to kill the enemy. How can I know this kind of poetry -"
"My God, mother-in-law, mother-in-law, go quickly!"
Song Che pushed Jiang Yuntian out of the seat with force.
Just when everyone thought that the golden fan must be the man in white, suddenly a guy wearing a tiger mask and a tiger's head suddenly jumped out.
"Isn't this the big guy who was yelling at the door earlier? How did he get out?"
"I'm afraid I'm just suffocated and can't find the toilet, right?"
"Hahaha……"
laugh at.
Jiang Yuntian turned around and blamed Song Che, then turned to look around at the guests and shouted: "Shut up!"
The mighty and domineering force made all the Confucian scholars in the hall sit upright, blushing and not daring to say another word.
When he looked at the man in white again, he chuckled and lost his majesty again, "Uh...I...actually I'm not..."
The man in white said softly: "Don't pay attention to them. If you have a poem, just recite it."
With Jiang Yuntian's tall and burly eagle figure, the man in white was as petite as a sparrow.
Now that he has reached this position, Jiang Yuntian is not ambiguous. He clears his throat and tries to be more elegant, listening to him whisper:
"The moon is setting, crows are crying, the sky is full of frost, Jiang Feng is fishing and the fire is facing melancholy.
At Hanshan Temple outside Gusu City, the bell rang for the passenger ship at midnight. "
As soon as this poem came out, there was total silence.
The great poet Zhang Ji is not as famous as Li Du, but he is equally talented. This poem "Mooring at Maple Bridge at Night" has clear and distant poems and rich emotional color. It is no exaggeration to call it a first-class contemporary poem.
The man in white's eyes twitched and he asked softly: "What is the name of this poem?"
Jiang Yuntian said: "Night mooring at Fengqiao."
"Night mooring at Maple Bridge, night mooring at Maple Bridge...the moon is setting, the crows are crying, the sky is full of frost, the river maple fishing fire is facing melancholy...outside the city of Suzhou, Hanshan Temple, the midnight bell is ringing...to the passenger ship."
The man in white repeated and hummed, as if he was immersed in poetry, and his eyes under the mask showed true feelings, "Good poem, good poem..."
He praised, still not satisfied, walked back to his seat and sat down.
"So, is there anyone else who wants to attack?" the doctor asked loudly.
The guests looked at me and I looked at you, shaking their heads. Once this famous poem comes out, who can compete with it?
"He must have plagiarized! Look at his appearance. He has no elegance at all. How could he write such a good poem with quatrains?" Ouyang Gong stood up and retorted.
The followers on the side responded one after another, with jealousy in their eyes.
Song Che sneered and said: "Everyone here is a person who has read a lot of poetry. You should know all the famous poems by famous writers, right? If this poem really appeared, how could you not know about it with its popularity? Don't dare to accuse me. Brother, this poem has never been done before, but it has never been so real before!”
Liao Heng pointed at Ouyang Gong angrily: "You are a rotten scholar who is jealous of talents and talents, and judges people by their appearance. What you are comparing today is poetry, not people. Whether they are princes, generals, ministers, or beggars in the market, as long as they are talented, they can come to the meeting. This The threshold of Huilanzhai is only half a foot high, so who can stop it?!"
good!
