When Miss Miaomiao said the following sentence, Xia Hua suddenly raised the corner of her mouth.

She is here to kill Li Chenan!

It's not here to find a husband!

But now Miss Miaomiao said that this poem was written by Li Chenan, which made her a little unbelievable, so she became a little curious:

"From the meaning of this word... I heard that Li Chenan was just eighteen years old, so why did he feel like he was eighty?"

"The words are born from the heart, how could he have such a sad experience?"

Miss Miaomiao turned off the fire and poured tea, shook her head:

"Young Master Li, the genius, may have seen an old man somewhere, and he wrote this poem in love with the scene."

"As for the real reason, it's a pity that Mr. Li did not come to Pingjiang City, but went to Shuzhou. Otherwise... the little woman would also like to ask him in person and ask him for a poem in person."

Xia Hua didn't ask this question again, and she had to ask Li Chenan if she wanted to ask.

She picked up the teacup and asked another question as if nothing had happened: "He... Since he is known as a poet, last Mid-Autumn Festival, his other fifteen poems... Can Miss Miaomiao write them out for me?"

"Of course this is... the lady doesn't even know his poems that have been passed down from the world?"

"Ah, I just went down the mountain."

"Oh, then Miaomiao will write it down for the lady to see... Don't fall in love with him!"

Xia Hua drank a sip of tea and was so scared that she choked by this sentence. She coughed violently and it took a moment to calm down slowly.

"What I like is not that weak scholar!"

Miss Miaomiao waved and called a maid to polish ink for her.

She looked at Xia Hua and smiled slightly, and said meaningfully: "Young Master Li is not a weak scholar."

"He... should be very hard!"

If he was not strong, how could the officialdom of Jiangnan Road be so upset by his family?

When Xia Hua heard this, her face turned slightly red.

After a moment, the maid polished the ink from the inkstone.

Miaomiao took a piece of paper and spread it in front of her very carefully.

She brewed five breaths before she picked up the pen and put it on the paper in a very sacred and solemn manner.

Little mouth lightly:

"The poem "Jiangchengzi" just now is the first poem written by Mr. Li at the Mid-Autumn Festival Poetry Club."

"This second poem is called "Xijiang Yue, a great dream in the world."

"A great dream in the world,

How many autumn cooler will happen in life.

The wind and leaves are already roaring at the corridor.

Look at the eyebrows and temples.

The wine is low and the guests are often worried.

The moon is bright and the clouds are hindered.

Who can share the lonely light with Mid-Autumn Festival?

Look north with a sad cup!"

Miss Miaomiao put the paper aside, took another one and spread it in front of her, and then wrote down:

"This third poem is called "Zhegui Ling, Mid-Autumn Festival."

"Who will polish a flying mirror?

Shine through the universe and reflect the mountains and rivers!

The jade dew is cold,

Wash the autumn sky and the silver man without waves,

More light than the long night,

The shadow of osmanthus is swaying without any hindrance."

“I sing,

To ask Chang'e,

Good night is depressed,

...What if you don't get drunk?"

"This fourth song..."

"The fifth song..."

"The Fifteenth song..."

When Miss Miaomiao was chanting these words while writing them, Xia Hua, who was sitting opposite her, was shocked!

She couldn't believe that it was Li Chenan who produced these amazing poems in just one stick of incense at the Mid-Autumn Festival Poetry Conference!

What kind of literary attainments are this?

How deep is this literary foundation?

No wonder the emperor of Ningguo gave him the name of a poet on the spot!

His talent... No matter which country's great scholar is, at least in poetry, he is not his opponent!

Although Xia Hua is practicing martial arts in Tianyin Pavilion, she is also studying.

Although her teacher is not the eldest scholar of Yunshuxian Yun, she is also the chief of the Bailu Academy in Dongxucheng and Mr. Qiu Chenqiu, one of the five great scholars of Wu.

Tianyin Pavilion also practices swords and pianos.

To practice the piano, you need extremely high literary talent.

If you don’t understand the meaning of the words, the piano you play will only have physical and no spirit.

It is tangible or can hurt people.

But only with gods can you go beyond the level and kill people!

The Tianyin Pavilion’s Tianmo piano sound is a masterpiece of martial arts. There are very few people who can practice it. In addition to internal strength, they also need extremely high literary attainments to make the piano sound resonate with the heaven and earth!

Of course she understood the meaning contained in the poems Li Chen'an.

Because I understand, I am shocked!

She knew how difficult it was to make such a poem!

If these poems are played with the unique method of the Heavenly Demon Piano... they may be able to kill people invisibly!

Miss Miaomiao has stopped writing at this moment.

But she still held the pen.

An indescribable feeling appeared on her face.

It seemed that she was still immersed in those poems, and it seemed that the scenes she had never seen in her mind that Li Chen'an had splashed ink.

It took a moment before she woke up.

She put down her pen and bowed slightly: "I've lost my composure."

"Whenever I copy these poems of him, I always have some new experiences and feelings. I always feel that he seems to be right in front of me, and I always fantasize that I am right next to him."

Miss Miaomiao turned her head and looked out the window.

The red silk that spread outside the window on the lake has disappeared.

There is microwave.

There is a breeze.

There is a bamboo curtain shaking gently.

A big red lantern has been lit.

"If I can accompany him, Hongxiu Tianxiang study at night... This is roughly what every girl in love with spring wishes!"

Xia Hua looked at Miaomiao silently and suddenly asked, "Didn't you say sixteen songs? Why are there only fifteen songs?"

"His last song was not read in the literary world, and very few people know it and has not been spread yet."

"oh……"

Summer flowers are a little regretful.

"It's a pity that the Shang family passed away. Even if he could write a good poem, no one could write a song that matched it."

Miaomiao withdrew her gaze, "Not that, the knowledge of the Shang family's music compilation was taught to a girl named Liang Manman."
To be continued...