One after another, people sent poems, and Yuerong read them one by one.
The people present were divided into three, six, and nine grades, and the poems written were naturally uneven. Most of them were just random words, reciting things that made people laugh, but occasionally there were two excellent poems.
Whenever they encounter this kind of poem, Baifenglou will have a servant hold up a wooden sign and paste the poem on it for everyone to watch and comment on.
"Okay, it's up to you whether you can do it today or not." At this time, Wang Mu also put down the pen in his hand, blew on the wet ink, smiled and handed the pen and paper back to the boy's hand, and said to the boy. He handed over his hand and said, "Thank you!"
The boy smiled and nodded, then turned back to the high platform.
Yuerong took Wang Muye's poem and took a look at it, then she laughed and said, "This poem is pretty good."
Then he started chanting quietly.
"Rainy clouds cover the moon, and there are only a few stars in the empty valley."
"The spiritual tower is a small place, so I will show you your kindness for now."
This poem was mediocre. It was thoughtful but not excellent. Yuerong smiled slightly and looked at Wang Muye, "The slave family can see that the young master put his thought into it, but the slave family cannot keep this poem."
Wang Mu also blushed, scratched his head, stood up with a smile, and raised his hands, "No problem, no problem, it's Wang's great fortune to have a girl recite it. Today I'm showing off my shame."
Yuerong nodded, handed the poem in her hand to the boy, and then picked up another one and started reading it.
Wang Mu also sat back in his chair and glanced at Yi Huaqi and Wu Yuanshan, who were smiling and asked, "Why are you looking at me? Don't you write poetry?"
Wu Yuanshan smiled and shook his head, "As long as Brother Yi is here, I won't show off my shame."
Then he looked at Yi Huaqi.
Yi Huaqi's face turned red, he shook his head and smiled bitterly, "I have a few words in my mind, but I haven't come up with the next few words yet. I don't know how to do it for a while. Let me think about it."
Wu Yuanshan nodded and said with a smile, "It doesn't hurt that we have plenty of time. Brother Yi, don't be anxious."
Liu Hao from the other building sneered when he heard Wang Muye's poem. He had been robbed of the limelight by Wu Yuanshan just now, and he felt an evil fire in his heart that he didn't know where to spread, so he immediately said to himself.
"Hey, what a crappy poem, it's nonsense, you can show off this kind of thing."
The faces of Yi Huaqi and others suddenly changed, and they all looked at Liu Hao's table.
Wang Mu's face turned red from suppressing it. It would have been fine if Yue Rong said so, but when Liu Hao, a fellow student from another academy, said so, he couldn't help it.
"You're talking nonsense. If my poem doesn't work, why don't you make one and take it out for a look." Wang Mu also pointed at Liu Hao and said.
"I'm self-aware. I, Liu Hao, just don't have any ideas. But I know how to write the word "shame". I'm not like a certain person. Those things in my stomach are rolled into a ball and are only the size of a fingernail." Liu Hao said happily. He took a sip of tea, shook his head and sarcastically said.
"You..." Wang Mu also stood up immediately, his face turned red and speechless.
.
"Me? What's wrong with me? What I said is not the truth? I advise you to give up quickly. Look who is sitting next to me? This is Jiang Wenlai, the most talented young man in our Saigon Academy. He must be the top pick today. Mr. Jiang’s.”
Listening to Liu Hao's flattery, Jiang Wenlai smiled and nodded at Yi Huaqi and others, and opened the folding fan with a clatter, looking confident.
"Okay! Then I'll see what kind of good poems you two can make!" Wang Mu also snorted and sat back.
Half an hour later, fewer and fewer people submitted poems, and it often took a while before a new poem came up.
The old madam stood aside and became impatient for a long time. Although this matter is elegant and can give Baifeng Tower a good reputation, it does not make any money.
When the next poem was recited and no new poems were delivered, the old bustard quickly stepped forward, pointed to the dozen wooden signs standing on the side, and said, "Are there any more? If there is no old slave, let Yue Miss Rong can choose the one she likes best among these poems."
When the people in the venue heard this, they knew that this was the end of the matter for today. Those who were not selected naturally shouted with dissatisfaction, but those who were selected were all excited.
"Okay, in that case, that's it for today..."
"Wait!"
Before the Madam had finished speaking, Jiang Wenlai closed the folding fan in his hand and spoke slowly.
The old madam looked towards where the sound came from. When he saw that it was Jiang Wenlai, he was slightly startled and immediately smiled flatteringly, "It turns out to be the famous Mr. Jiang. Who else did I think he was? Could it be that Mr. Jiang also has poems?"
"That's natural." Jiang Wenlai smiled slightly, and then said, "Wen Wu is the first, and Wu Wu is the second. Jiang did not want to participate in this matter, but these poems on the stage are too unsightly. If If these poems are circulated today, it will inevitably damage the reputation of our Juechun City, so Jiang should reluctantly compose one."
As soon as Jiang Wenlai said these words, he immediately caused an uproar in the place. His words immediately attracted everyone in Baifeng Tower. Why are these poems so unsightly that they have ruined the reputation of Juechun City? It's obvious that these poems are trash and far inferior to him, and his tone is extremely arrogant.
"Hey! Boy, please be polite."
"It's so shameless. I thought I was thick-skinned enough, but your skin is almost as thick as the bricks of the city wall."
"You talkative guy, if you have the guts, try making a song."
The court was filled with shouts and curses, all pointing their fingers at Jiang Wenlai.
Jiang Wenlai smiled confidently in the face of the yelling and scolding, "Bring me a pen!"
After a while, a boy came over with a pen and ink and handed it to Jiang Wenlai.
Jiang Wenlai touched the pen and ink lightly, opened the folding fan in his hand with a loud bang, and wrote a few words on the paper smoothly. After taking a look, he threw the pen away casually and said, "Take it and let them see it. "
Jiang Wenlai had actually already thought of using the moon as the title
He just kept silent about his poems, and what he said just now was also intentional. What he wanted was to be pointed out by thousands of people, and then it became a blockbuster.
Of course, he was also watching the poems on the stand. If a poem better than his own came out, then he would be thinking about something else. In short, he was determined to get this opportunity to be alone with Yuerong.
Yuerong's expression remained unchanged, she took the poem that was handed to her, her eyes lit up after taking a look at it, and then she recited it softly.
The soul is as small as a hook, and the fan drives the Han group.
The fine shadows will be round, and you can see them in several places in the world.
As soon as this poem came on stage, there was an immediate silence, and those who had been shouting and scolding also suddenly stopped making a sound.
I have to say that Jiang Wenlai did a very good job with this poem, and it is considered an extremely good work.
There is no word "month" in the whole poem, but the figure of the moon is hidden in every sentence.
The soul is as small as a hook, and the fan drives the Han group.
The meaning of this poem is that the thin moon gradually becomes round like a hook. When the half circle is half missing, it looks like a woven feather fan.
And the next sentence.
"The fine shadow will be round, and you can see it in several places in the world."
It’s the finishing touch.
It means that no matter whether the moon is waning or full, it still hangs faintly in the sky, and how many people in the world will look up.
The first two sentences are a metaphor for the beautiful scenery of the moon, and the last two sentences change the subject and show desolation.
"Okay!" Liu Hao's eyes lit up, and when everyone was stunned, he was the first to jump out and applaud.
Only then did the people in the venue come back to their senses. The yelling just now disappeared. They were not ignorant people. When they heard it, they knew that this poem was a masterpiece and it was not impossible for it to be circulated for hundreds of years in the future.
They had to swallow back the words they had planned to laugh at Jiang Wenlai, but they didn't want to flatter him, so they kept silent.
Jiang Wenlai shook his folding fan, enjoying the feeling of this moment. He felt extremely happy. He glanced at Wu Yuanshan's table and smiled contemptuously, then looked back at Yue Rong on the high platform.
Yuerong nodded, handed the poem to the boy and said, "Hang it up."
"Yes!" The boy immediately took it, then called the servants who had been waiting for him, and posted the poem for everyone to see.
Wu Yuanshan's expression changed when he heard this poem. He also knew how extraordinary this poem was. Seeing Jiang Wenlai's provocative look, Wu Yuanshan raised his eyebrows, then smiled and looked back at Yi Huaqi, who was still frowning.
As soon as Jiang Wenlai's poem came out, the poems that the others were about to send also stopped to avoid making people laugh.
Seeing that there was no one in the room to send poems, Jiang Wenlai finally laughed loudly and said, "Hahaha, since there is no one here, why don't you quickly decide whose poem can be the first one today?"
Hearing this, the old bustard smiled quickly and said, "Well, I think as soon as Young Master Jiang's poem came out, everyone no longer wanted to write it anymore, so today the top one in our Baifeng Tower is..."
"Slow down!" At this moment, Wu Yuanshan waved his hand, smiled lightly, stopped the old madam, and looked at Yi Yi who was standing aside.
Hua Qi said, "This friend of mine also has poems to come up with."
The old madam's words were stagnant. He didn't expect that someone would take out the poem at this time. When he saw that it was Wu Yuanshan who was speaking, the old madam's eyes immediately lit up. After all, he was the rich man of Baifeng Tower today.
"Quickly, give that young master a pen and paper." The old bustard quickly urged the servants around him, not daring to delay at all.
Yi Huaqi looked at Wu Yuanshan with a smile, "Brother Wu, you are forcing me."
Wu Yuanshan shrugged pretending to be innocent.
"Hey..." Yi Huaqi sighed, then took the pen beside him and started writing.
He took a long time, as if he was writing some long poem. At the same time, he sometimes paused slightly while writing, and thought for a while before starting to write again.
Jiang Wenlai was still smiling. He was very confident in his poem and did not believe that anyone could come up with a poem better than his in such a short time.
"Hey, kid, what are you doing? Are you illiterate after writing for so long?" Liu Hao was also sarcastic at this time.
(Note: Po Yi is as small as a hook, fanning the Han Dynasty. The thin shadow will be round, and it can be seen in several places in the world. From the Tang Dynasty poet, Xue Tao, "Moon.")
(Yu Bodhi: This time I really put my mind into it and spent a whole day looking up this poem. I hope you all like it.)
(End of chapter)
