"hehe."
He Ping'an sneered, Liu Ding stood up for Dai Xueyi, not necessarily for Dai Xueyi.
On the contrary, it may be because he was in Jingzhao Mansion and was completely naked in an argument in the lobby, and now he is avenging his shame.
But at this moment, Liu Ding turned his eyes and looked at He Ping'an and said: "And he is just a vulgar martial artist, but he came to an elegant place like the Poetry Club. Did he go to the wrong place?"
As soon as this was said, the whole audience burst into laughter.
He Pingan's expression remained unchanged. This small scene was nothing compared to the scenes he had experienced, and it was even less likely to make him panic.
"Who said martial artists can't come to poetry gatherings?"
Lu Wei was about to explain, but He Ping'an spoke first, then looked at Liu Ding and said: "If nothing else, just the poem you just made, don't compare it with me, it's not even as good as my disciple Wan Yi."
"Arrogant!"
Liu Ding's expression suddenly changed. Although he had evil intentions, he had been immersed in the art of poetry for a long time and claimed that he was much better than ordinary people. How could he allow He Ping'an to be judged casually by a martial artist?
"Please comment, layman, to see how peaceful I am, and who is the superior and inferior of the poems I have written!"
He bowed deeply to the layman Zizhu upstairs, his voice a little hysterical.
Most of the people present today are talented people and beauties from Xuanyang, or children of aristocratic families. If he loses face here, the news will spread throughout Xuanyang tomorrow.
Zizhu layman looked at Lu Wei. He had brought these two people, so he must ask Lu Wei for his opinion.
He Pingan's lips moved slightly, and the sound transmission fell into Lu Wei's mind.
"I agreed on behalf of Brother He, but he said that Master Liu is not worthy of competing with him. If you want to compete with him, you must first pass his disciple."
Lu Wei took a step forward and told everyone present what He Ping'an had told him.
"Who is his disciple?"
Master Zizhu asked.
"It's this guy next to me, Brother Lu Yong!"
Lu Wei pointed at Lu Yong beside him and said, feeling a little uneasy in his heart. He Ping'an had tied himself to Lu Yong. If they lost, both of their reputations would be ruined.
They must not know that good things don’t go out, but bad things spread thousands of miles.
The mouths of these Confucian scholars are simply sharper than knives and spread faster than a trumpet.
In his heart, he felt that He Pingan pushed Lu Yong out temporarily because he knew that he could not compose poetry, so he could only hand it over to Lu Yong, who was a Confucian scholar after all.
But Lu Yong is just a ninth-grade Confucian scholar.
He suddenly regretted inviting He Pingan to attend the poetry gathering. If it hadn't been for his invitation, He Pingan would not have been in a dilemma.
"I agree!"
Liu Ding, however, agreed directly without thinking.
A mere ninth-grade Confucian scholar, I took care of him first, and then He Ping'an.
"Brother Liu, don't agree."
At this time, Dai Xue Yi, who finally swallowed a pill and reduced the swelling on his face a lot, rushed over from the crowd: "This Lu Yong, he writes excellent poems."
Unexpectedly, Liu Ding's face turned dark as soon as he said this.
If you didn't tell me sooner or later, and you didn't tell me until after I had just agreed, wouldn't this be disrespectful to me?
Besides, if Lu Yong is good at poetry, am I, Liu Ding, bound to lose to him?
Thinking of this, Liu Ding glared at Dai Xueyi fiercely and suppressed what he was planning to say.
He actually wanted to say that if there was a competition, Lu Yong could not be allowed to write lyrics, only poems.
Because Lu Yong is good at composing lyrics, but his level of writing poetry is average.
Although Lu Yong is well-known among courtesans, he is not famous among literati, so Liu Ding does not know how good Lu Yong is as a lyricist...
At this time, all the pressure was on Lu Yong.
Countless eyes on the field immediately turned to Lu Yong. Lu Yong, who had been staying out of the incident, suddenly became the center of the storm.
But at this time, Lu Yong did not panic at all, because he was looking at He Pingan with tears in his eyes: "Master, you finally accepted me as your disciple."
During his interactions with He Pingan, Lu Yong was deeply impressed by He Pingan's profound knowledge. Although this Master He did not have much literary talent, every word he said had profound meaning, and every suggestion made Lu Yong think about it for a long time.
He offered to take He Pingan as his teacher many times, but He Pingan kept saying that the time had not come yet.
Today, he finally offered to accept him as his disciple. How could Lu Yong not be inexplicably excited?
"Behave!"
He Ping'an gave Lu Yong an encouraging look and pulled him back from his thoughts.
"The theme of this poetry meeting is thinking!"
He Ping'an reminded him, because when Lu Yong came here, he had never thought about participating in the poetry meeting.
When Lu Yong heard this, he was silent for a long time, feeling sad and thinking of Liu Ruoxiang who didn't know where he was.
Gu Xi
After pondering for a moment, he slowly walked towards the small building, holding on to the railing on the first floor, and chanted loudly:
"Standing in a dangerous building, the wind blows softly."
Zizhu layman nodded slightly. At this time, Lu Yong was holding the railing, but under the gaze of everyone, he really felt like he was in a dangerous building.
It is February, and the spring breeze is blowing, which is also appropriate for the sentence.
But it's just a sentence, but it can't be said how good it is.
At this time, Lu Yong climbed up to the second floor of the small building. Under the signal of the layman Zizhu, no one stopped him. He stood on the second floor platform and looked far away, as if he was looking at the burial place of Liu Ruoxiang.
"Looking at the extreme sadness of spring, the sky is gloomy. The color of grass and smoke are still shining in the sky. Who would be speechless?"
"good!"
Zizhu layman nodded slightly. After hearing this sentence, he realized that what Lu Yong was doing was lyrics, not poetry.
Judging from this paragraph alone, it is comparable to Liu Ding's poems, or even slightly better.
Moreover, the lyrics written by Lu Yong were vaguely consistent with his mood of missing his deceased wife, and were closer to his heart.
Suddenly, Lu Yong turned around and stepped onto the steps of the third floor again.
"You can't go up here!"
Two students of Zizhu layman standing at the corner of the stairs on the third floor were about to stop him, but layman Zizhu said softly: "Allow him to come up."
Hearing this, the two students had no choice but to stand aside and let Lu Yong step onto the third floor.
There is a small stone table on the third floor platform, where the woman in yellow skirt and Wang Yifang are sitting and chatting.
Lu Yong walked to the stone table and suddenly reached out to pick up the wine jug on the table. Without pouring wine into the cup, he directly raised the jug and poured a large sip of wine from the spout of the jug.
The posture is frivolous, but the face is sad.
Seeing him behaving like this, Wang Yifang smiled and said nothing. The woman in the yellow dress frowned slightly, but didn't say much.
Seeing what Lu Yong did, Zizhu layman appreciated it more and more, remembering the days when he was young and acted arrogantly. It was also at that time that he met his wife.
Lu Yong drank the wine in his mouth, then raised his head and said:
"I'm going to get drunk on the madness. I'll sing to the wine, and the music will be tasteless."
After chanting this sentence, Lu Yong gently threw the wine bottle in his hand back on the stone table and stumbled downstairs.
His body was stooped and his steps were hobbling, and he no longer looked as frivolous as before.
The woman in the yellow skirt looked at Lu Yong's back walking downstairs, and for some reason, she couldn't help but feel a little distressed.
Seeing Lu Yong walking downstairs, Zizhu layman, who was already immersed in the meaning of the words, shouted at his back: "What else?"
“The word is not finished yet!”
When Lu Yong heard this, he lowered his head and smiled sadly, and said softly:
"The belt is getting wider and wider, but I don't regret it anymore. I feel haggard because of Yi."
Immediately, the Zizhu layman upstairs stood blankly on the spot without saying a word.
The entire Purple Bamboo Garden suddenly became quiet.
Although Lu Yong's voice was small, most of the people present were well-educated, even those at the ninth level of Confucianism and Taoism, and they also had sharp ears and eyesight, so his voice reached everyone's ears without a word.
For a moment, everyone present trembled and had goosebumps all over their bodies.
Everyone has someone they miss in their heart.
The people who come to this poetry gathering are all young and unmarried people, and there are very few married people.
Although Lu Yong misses Liu Ruoxiang in this poem, in the hearts of everyone, it can refer to his beloved.
Everyone's expressions are different, some have dull faces, some have sad faces, some cover their faces and cry, and some are in ecstasy...
"The belt is getting wider and wider, but I don't regret it anymore. It makes people haggard because of Yi."
"good!"
"good!"
"good!"
Zizhu layman was immersed in the meaning of the words for a long time, and his heart was shaken. It was only then that he said "hello" three times in a row and reluctantly escaped from the artistic conception.
But he didn't know that when he said "hello" three times, he was already in tears.
This poem is so close to his state of mind at this time. The reason why he took "Thinking" as the title is precisely because he misses his deceased wife. Lu Yong's words directly hit his heart and made him unable to be himself for a long time.
Especially the first few sentences of the poem are all foreshadowing, but they are already extremely extraordinary, but it is not until the last sentence that the final statement is made:
"It makes people haggard because of Yixiao!"
——It turned out to be for her!
What kind of talent does it take to write such words?
