"Since you say I'm a waste, how dare you make a bet with me?"

"Yo, what kind of bet do you want to make?"

Liu Mo's face darkened, "I'll bet with you today, if I said just now, I, Liu Mo, will definitely become the leader of the poetry club today."

"You are the trash who can't even pass the exam for a scholar? The leader!"

Feng Xueqian was the first to laugh. The yamen runners joined in, followed by the surrounding tourists and other uncalculable tourists. This sudden roar spread like a hurricane until the entire poetry meeting began to shake.

"I'll ask if you dare!" Liu Mo shouted sternly.

"Okay, what are you betting on?" Feng Xueqian raised his voice.

Liu Mo sneered, "Those who lose will receive 4,000 taels of silver, and kneel down in public and kowtow to admit their mistakes." Liu Mo said, "Young Master Feng, do you dare not?"

"Four thousand taels of silver? Kowtow to admit your mistake? Young master, I have silver, not that bad." Feng Xueqian smiled, "If you lose, I don't want silver. I want you to break your arms and never be able to write again!"

As soon as these words came out, everyone was shocked.

The yamen runner who maintained order did not want the matter to make a big deal and said, "Young Master Feng, this place is a poetry club, there is no need to break your hands, right?"

Feng Xueqian ignored it and asked viciously: "Hmph, do you dare to do it if you dare?"

Liu Mo grinned, "I'm afraid you won't do it, come on!"

Lin Shiqi pulled Liu Mo's neck of clothes and signaled him not to be impulsive.

"Not hindrance!" Liu Mo comforted Lin Shiqi.

I have recited many poems by Li Bai on the earth. Just wait and kneel down and kowtow!

Liu Mo cleared his throat and then held Lin Shiqi's shoulder.

"Shiqi, today I will write a poem for you."

Lin Shiqi was stunned when she heard this.

Want to write poems for me?

Liu Mo closed his eyes and pretended to be contemplative.

"Read it, why don't you read it quickly." Feng Xueqian smiled, "I want to see what kind of shit poems you can make."

Liu Mo ignored it and deliberately delayed time.

This action made Lin Shiqi a little nervous.

"Read quickly, read quickly!" The onlookers also began to cheer.

At this moment, Liu Mo suddenly opened his eyes and said affectionately to Lin Shiqi:

[The clouds think of clothes and flowers think of appearance, and the spring breeze blows through the threshold and the dew is thick.

If it weren't for the group of jade hills, they would meet under the moon on the Yao platform.]

As soon as this poem was released, everyone was silent.

Everyone here is a person with profound literary skills. But when he heard this, he could already notice the ethereal, grand and distant artistic conception of the poem.

You know, this is a poem of praise written by the great poet Li Bai to Yang Guifei.

Write (peony) and Lin Shiqi (of course, this implies his wife) together. Flowers are people, and people are flowers, and they melt the flowers all over the human face.

Such a super-human flower appearance can only be seen in the fairyland of heaven. It is either the Piaopiao Fairy seen on the Qunyu Mountain or the goddess shining under the moonlight in front of the Yaotai Hall.

Yushan, Yaotai, moonlight, and plain words that reflect the flowers and faces, naturally remind people of people like white jade, and like a warm white peony flower.

In such an atmosphere, a scholar subconsciously picked up paper and pen and wrote down the poems silently.

I forgot halfway through and couldn't help but ask, "Young Master Liu, can you say it again?"

"Of course."

Liu Mo cleared his throat and read the poem he wrote for Lin Shiqi again.

Lin Shiqi gently bit her lower lip and listened quietly. She was already moved to tears. Her eyes were moist, but they were tears of happiness.

"In my opinion, this is the best poem tonight."

"A few words are the refreshing atmosphere of the Immortal Palace, good poems, and good poems."

The literati and poets praised him, which made Feng Xueqian's eyes red from anger.

Liu Mo looked at him squintly and said, "Young Master Feng, how about it?"

"You..." Feng Xueqian blushed, "You made this poem?"

"What about that?"

"No, no, it was you who plagiarized." Feng Xueqian's eyes lit up, "Yes, yes, yes, it must have been you who plagiarized! You are a waste and a scholar who can't pass the exam, how can you make such a masterpiece?

Come on, arrest this person quickly.”

Poetry Clubs are deeply abominable to plagiarism. Once they find out that such behavior is happening, they will be in prison.

This poem was indeed not written by Liu Mo, but no one knew Li Bai, the great poet of Earth, and he was not panicked at all.

Liu Mo snorted, "So, Mr. Feng, who am I plagiarizing, and when was this poem written?"

Feng Xueqian was speechless and couldn't speak for a long time.

However, at this moment, an old man stroked his beard and said, "Young Master Liu, although your poem is a work of the upper class, you cannot be regarded as the leader."

Liu Mo looked back and saw that the man's beautiful temples had turned gray after the weathering of time. He was wearing a long robe, exuding a full aroma of books.

The scholars around bowed and bowed, Qin Guangyan: the chief of Jiangyuan Academy, the largest academy in Linyang City, and was also a judge of this poetry meeting.

"Hello, Mr. Qin." Liu Mo immediately bowed, "I would like to ask for advice."

"I dare not give advice, but I just commented on it as a judge." Qin Guangyan said: "Tonight is Mid-Autumn Festival, and the poems written in the poetry club should also be based on Mid-Autumn Festival and the moon viewing. Although Mr. Liu's poems are good, they deviate from the Mid-Autumn Festival topic."

At this time, someone shouted: "Yes, yes, it's off topic!"

Liu Mo knew that Mr. Qin was not intentionally making things difficult for him, and it was not an exaggeration to say it was a reminder.

He bowed again and then said, "Then I will make another song."

Hearing this, everyone focused their attention on Liu Mo.

Liu Mo closed his eyes and pondered.

The whole poetry meeting suddenly became silent.

After a long time, Liu Mo said:

[When will the bright moon come? Ask the blue sky with wine.

I don’t know what year it will be today in the palace in the sky.

I wanted to ride the wind, but I was afraid that the jade building and jade buildings would be colder at high places.

...

People have joys and sorrows, and the moon has phases and waxing, and this is difficult to complete in ancient times.

I hope that people will live long and share the beauty of the moon with thousands of miles away.]

At this time, Liu Mo was reciting Su Dongpo's [Shuitu Songtou, When will the bright moon come to him] seriously according to the rhythm. Although he was not happy, he was in line with the artistic conception of the words and sentences.

Such a poem of the great aura of everyone was revealed, and Qin Guangyan suddenly grew up. There were very few people in the Daxia Dynasty who could achieve such a level of poetry.

"...I hope people will live long and share the beauty of the moon with thousands of miles away." Qin Guangyan murmured and repeated the last sentence, looking at everyone, nodding his head slightly. After a while, he sighed.

"Good words..."

At this time, some people at the Garden Poetry Club looked at each other a few times, and some murmured and repeated the words, which was extremely quiet.

"The capital of the leader, the capital of the leader!" Qin Guangyan immediately said loudly.

As he said that, he quickly instructed his students: "Hurry, copy it down quickly, I will use it to circulate it, hurry!"

"Ha..." Liu Mo was secretly happy, "Young Master Feng, how about it?"
Chapter completed!