Chapter 57 Writing Poems (1)

But Zhao Moqing was very persistent.

Shan Ming naturally refused to obey his master's words, so he agreed and left.

Zhao Qinghan had no intention of getting into a quarrel with Zhao Moqing over the denial issue. Since he wanted to take the painting back, let him take it. He had already persuaded him anyway.

Zhao Qinghan stood up and continued to look at Feng Qianxue's chrysanthemum picture to prevent his eyes from hurting when Yun Qingyin's picture was brought back later.

And with Shen Anqiu's reminder, Shanming finally succeeded in bringing Yun Qingyin's paintings back, avoiding being scolded by Zhao Moqing again.

Mr. Cong was walking at his place, but when he looked up, he saw the old lady who was supposed to be the judge on the women's side coming over, and he stood up.

"Master, why did I come here?"

The old lady said with a smile, "He heard that the Seventh Prince asked to see the little girl's painting. He was afraid that the person holding the painting might accidentally damage it, so he came over to have a look."

Mr. Cong wondered, how valuable is a painting?

When Zhao Qinghan heard what he said, he came over and said, "Don't worry, Master. After the students have seen the chrysanthemum picture, he will send it there himself."

The old lady wondered, "What chrysanthemum picture?"

Zhao Qinghan said, "It's the chrysanthemum picture of Miss Feng that Cai Shanming took just now."

After hearing this, the old lady waved her legs and said, "That's not what he said."

It happened that Shanming came over with someone carrying the table. The old lady didn't have time to shut up with Zhao Qinghan. He walked over and kept saying, be careful, be careful. His posture seemed to be begging for the table to be carried. If a person bumps into a bump, he will get scolded like crazy.

When the table finally landed safely, the old lady finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Their paintings were all on a piece of drawing paper, but Fo Shanming brought a table, which made the students look over curiously.

Shen Anqiu stood up.

Feng Jingyun endured the itching in his chest and stood up. Zhao Moqing had already walked over.

Mr. Cong walked over with his legs on his back, curious about what kind of painting the old lady treasured so much. The old lady stood to one side very proudly, "What do you think of that painting, Mr. Cong?"

Mr. Cong glanced casually at first, then his expression became serious. He slowly walked to the front of the table and looked at each picture in order.

After a long time, Mr. Cong sighed deeply, "This can be a masterpiece passed down from generation to generation."

Zhao Qinghan didn't take it seriously and wondered how he could get such a high evaluation from Master Cong. However, after he saw the sand painting, he was speechless.

…

Poetry begins.

Yun Qingyin was ranked third, Princess An Ning was ranked second, and Wei Yuniang was the first to compose a rhythmic poem outside the prescribed time, which rhymed with the same pattern, which was pretty good. As a starting point, all the judges gave positive comments. good.

Princess An Ning simply abstained.

Aunt Cui smiled, not surprised, "Then it's Miss Yun's turn to pick up Donglai."

The theme of Mingyue's poem is chrysanthemums, which is also worthy of the name of the Chrysanthemum Appreciation Banquet. Yun Qingyin thought for a moment, put a pen on the paper and wrote a poem about chrysanthemums.

In the poem, the chrysanthemum is praised for its virtue of not joining in the misery with other flowers. It has a strong momentum of killing the flowers after they bloom.

The palace maid who copied the poem wrote the poem to the east and handed it to Shanming who had been waiting for a long time.

The poem written by Yun Qingyin was also handed over to the judging panel.

The Queen Mother asked whether the chrysanthemum appreciation banquet was successfully held. The judges in each round of the competition were all people who had made great achievements in the field. In the second round of poetry, the first place was a well-known poet.

After reading Yun Qingyin's poems, he put Donglai in awe, and the first question he asked was, "Did I write it myself?"

"No." Originally, Yun Qingyin wanted to save trouble and write an article directly, but when she realized that everyone had written it by themselves, she gave up on that thought and simply conceived a song.

It is said that if you can learn 300 Tang poems, you can recite them even if you don't know how to compose them, so it is not difficult to learn them.

The old judge looked at her and said, "He heard that I have written poems before. Did I write the song "Spring Tour at Qiantang Lake" myself?"

Yun Qingyin was slightly surprised that she rejected that poem. She said frankly, "It was not written by him, but by one of his teachers."

"What nonsense!"

"That poem was clearly written by him when he visited the lake many years ago. How could it be written by my teacher? He has been telling lies at such a young age, so the origin of that poem might be suspicious for him."

Yun Qingyin was convinced that there was no Yan Dynasty in history, and that era was completely imaginary and completely parallel to the time she lived in before, so the people who wrote those poems would not have appeared there at all. As for Yun Qingyin,

Naturally, the teacher mentioned does not exist.

Thinking that before the banquet started, Lin Shuangshuang vowed to ruin her reputation, Yun Qingyin quickly figured out the plan.

"I said no to the poem I wrote, do I have any evidence?"

"Humph, just in case I don't admit it, he has already prepared it." The old judge took out an old book and turned to a page, "Let me see!"

Aunt Cui walked forward to check, "The paper is indeed old."

"A few years ago, when he heard that she was accepting an award for that poem, he thought she was young and didn't care about her. He didn't expect that she still didn't repent." The old judge was obviously heartbroken.

Aunt Cui was fair and said, "Miss Yun, do you have anything to say?"

Yun Qingyin looked at the book and asked again, "Am I sure that poem was written by me?"

The so-called poet snorted coldly, "Did I admit it? I have earned my reputation for so many years by copying one of his poems. Why haven't I seen any other poems written by me in so many years? I'm afraid I won't be able to write them."

Alright?"

Yun Qingyin said, "It seems that I insist that "Spring Journey to Qiantang Lake" is not my poem."

Lin Shuangshuang stood up from the banquet, "Yun Qingyin, the evidence is conclusive, but I refused to admit it and made up the so-called teacher. Do you think that mentioning a teacher who does not exist can remove the stigma? I'm afraid

I didn’t expect to meet the real owner of the poem. If there really is the teacher I mentioned, why have I never heard of the poems he wrote?”

As for Feng Qianxue, who was walking in the banquet, her anger finally dissipated a lot.

I was thinking about how Yun Qingyin turned around that time.

The judges invited by the Queen Mother were all highly respected figures in the poetry world. They would never risk their own reputations for slandering Yun Qingyin, so it seemed certain that Yun Qingyin would copy their poems.

That time, even if she invited various gods and goddesses, she might not be able to turn around.

It seems that God has lost sight of this. Please teach her a lesson.

Shen Nanyun, who was walking next to Feng Qianxue, said, "He knew that my sister had a bad temper before, but he didn't expect that she would do such a thing."

"Humph, even if what I said is not true, my teacher probably couldn't have copied his poems. Otherwise, as Miss Lin said, he has read a lot of poems, but why have he never heard of his poems?" Then An old judge said.
Chapter completed!