Martial Arts Master Travelled to Ancient Time and Farms

   In front of Zhaixing Building, the autumn wind moved lightly.

  The sunset smears the sky, dragging the whole world into a flame-like warmth.

  The voices in front of the building gradually fell silent, and Luo You's poem was written.

   Young Master Lu raised his eyebrows and smiled, he was about to take the rice paper and recite the verses on it himself.

   At this time, the person standing behind Luo You suddenly said, "Hey, wait!"

   What are you waiting for?

Everyone looked at this man, and the man threw his hands at the four dough **** and laughed: "Everyone, Luo Jinglun's poems should be the finale. If he recites his poems in front of people early, we ordinary people What can people do?"

   As soon as the words fell, there were a series of echoes.

   "That's right, that's right. If Luo Jinglun really has poetry ahead, who of us ordinary people would have the courage to show ugliness again?"

   "It's very, very good, who doesn't want to enter the Xingxing Building? Young Master Lu, Young Master Luo, you can't help but give us a chance..."

This sentence,   , seems to be "suppressing" Luo You, but in fact it is clearly holding Luo You to the altar of God. As the so-called flower sedan chair lifts people, isn't the reputation of the literati propagandized by this time and again comparison?

   Although Luo You has a city, he is still young, and being praised so much, he turned around and bowed his hands to the people behind him, showing helplessness, shaking his head and saying with a smile, "You guys!"

   There is a vague conceit in his demeanor, and it is obvious that he is very confident in his own poetry.

  Cheng Ling watched in the crowd, and saw that Mr. Lu took Luo You's poem aside and placed it on a tray specially held by the attendant.

   Young Master Lu's Taoist robes are like clouds, and his gestures show the elegance of the children of aristocratic families. Under the eyes of the public, he moves gracefully and freely.

  Cheng Ling didn't know if it was her own delusion, she always felt that Young Master Lu's eyes seemed to be swept to a certain position in the crowd, and he paused for a while as if he had a deep meaning.

   At this time, each scholar took the initiative to walk to the long table in front of the Zhaixing Building, picked up the pen and dipped in the ink, and began to write their own poems.

Some people write poems very quickly, as if their thoughts are springing up, and they just swipe their pen; some people write and recite words at the same time, as if they are thinking and deliberate; complain.

   In short, in front of Zhaixinglou, there are various expressions, each with his own appearance.

  Cheng Ling silently stood at the back of the line, thinking about what poem he should write.

   In this era when all kinds of inferior grades are only high in reading, if there is an opportunity to reveal the name of the text, it is undoubtedly equivalent to modeling a golden body for oneself and putting on a protective talisman.

  Cheng Ling came to Yongzhou City for some time, and observed the arrangement for a long time. Until now, at this moment, it was really a good time to open up the situation.

   While revealing the name of the text, if you can enter the Star Picking Tower again, it will obviously be excellent.

   After a while, several scholars in front of Cheng Ling finished writing their poems. When it was Cheng Ling's turn, there was no one behind her, but on both sides of the long table, there were still a few people nervously writing poems.

   These are the ones that are very slow. Now most of them have finished writing. They were not in a hurry before, but now they are starting to be in a hurry.

  Cheng Ling is not in a hurry. During the time she was queuing just now, she had already thought about the poem she was going to write.

   This poem is not actually created by her on the spot, but when she was a teacher in her previous life, she was inspired by a sudden inspiration and spent half a day writing it.

  Cheng Ling can write poems himself, so he is reluctant to copy the classic masterpieces of his previous life.

   As for the use of poems that he has written before, that’s not a big deal—after all, Yongzhi’s poems are a common subject matter. How many of the scholars present have never written them?

   There are very few people in this world who can really quickly write poetry on the spot. If they use their own old poems, as long as they are not plagiarized, as long as they have not been published before, they are considered to be in compliance with the rules.

   When Cheng Ling finished writing the poem, the people next to her finally took the time to put the pen away.

   All the poems were taken away, and Mr. Lu came out and personally asked if there were anyone else who wanted to come up and write poems again.

  The crowd was silent for a while, and after a while, the good people responded: "Master Lu, read poetry! We can't wait, we want to hear the masterpieces of all the talented people!"

   A burst of roars made the whole atmosphere warm again.

   Young Master Lu fluttered his Taoist robe, with a smile on his face and a loud voice.

  He took out a poem from the tray next to him, and he read it right away.

   "I am as ambitious as a green pine now, and the white snow bullies the cold and the unknown..."

   This poem was taken by Mr. Lu at will. After reading it, he read the signature after the poem again, and then boasted: "It's not bad, I have ambition."

The person who wrote the poem was a scholar from the south of the city. He had some assets in his family, and the name of the text was usually not obvious, but this time he was praised by Mr. Lu. At that time, the man was recognized by the good people around him, and then there was a sound of praise. up.

   This is the advantage of writing poems in public before Zhaixinglou.

  Unfortunately, only Mr. Lu boasted a few words, but none of the gentlemen from the Wuyin Academy standing in the back said anything.

   They didn't say anything. In the end, the author of this poem was praised a few words, but it was obviously not enough to enter the Star Picking Tower.

   The scholar sighed regretfully, and then retreated to the side.

  Lu Gongzi continued to recite the poems. He randomly shuffled the order of the poems on the tray, and then recited them randomly.

   The next few poems were considered average, and even some relatively vulgar limericks appeared. Halfway through the reading, Mr. Lu frowned.

The crowd booed, and Mr. Lu finally finished reading the limerick with a frown, but did not say the name of the poet, only said: "This brother, the rhythm of poetry still needs to be refined, remember, this is the way to go. There are no shortcuts."

   Then he put the poem aside.

Among the onlookers, some people couldn't help but comment: "Lu Gongzi is really good-looking, he has finished reading such poems, and he saves people's face, and doesn't say their names. I don't know who wrote this poem. Are you ashamed?"

  Cheng Ling listened silently, observing everything in his heart.

   At this moment, Young Master Lu picked up another poem, and he let out a light hum.

   "There are few neighbors in the secluded alleys, and the mao eaves like to live side by side. Steamed pears are often shared in the stove, and scallions are also poured in the same canal. It is passed down to search for medicine, and to read books at night. Although in the city, it is still like fishing with firewood."

   After reading the poem, Mr. Wu suddenly said, "Good poem!"

   Not only Mr. Wu said a good poem, but after Mr. Wu blurted out a praise, several other gentlemen next to him nodded and said "good poem".