On the edge of the Fenjiang River, the weather is a bit cool. A stone bridge spans the green water, and there are occasional birds hanging out by the river.

Several horizontal boats were tied to the shore, and the fishermen spread out the nets and began to clean the fishing rods.

Young people were walking back and forth on the road nearby, working men were passing here carrying heavy loads on their way home, and occasionally two or three couples of men and women would stop and quarrel over trivial matters by the riverside.

In the pavilions next to the water, some wrinkled old men with snowy hair and frosty hair are sitting quietly on chairs. They don't make a sound, they just smile and observe everyone passing by.

All the worries in your heart are happiness in their eyes.

Aging is not necessarily a bad thing. Feeling the passage of time calmly and calmly is actually a very sentimental and elegant thing.

And the only thing that can leave the growth rings full of charm on the plain skin with no fluctuations, and can nourish such a peaceful state of mind in the fresh body with constant blood flow, is time.

Watching the scenery along the river in the afternoon, Situ Xi helped Zhongli straighten the plain yarn on the back of his curtain hat with his hands. The two of them came to the south of the city to attend the Taoyuan Poetry Recital.

Speaking of the peach garden, perhaps influenced by the saying "the peach blossoms begin to bloom in the mountain temple", Situ Xi stereotypedly thought that the peach garden was on the mountain, but he did not expect that the Mi Palace actually built a specially built peach garden on the edge of the Fenjiang River in the city.

The garden for admiring flowers is really luxurious.

The poetry meeting started at Youshi, and there was still some time before now. The two of them happened to go out for a walk to eat.

As he walked, Situ Xi discovered that there were some scholars wearing Confucian robes gathered underneath a three-story attic in front of him. Judging from their age, most of them should be students.

Getting a little closer, the two of them were able to hear clearly what the scholars were discussing.

"If you want to write about the spring breeze, it is best not to use the spring breeze in the poem, but to use flying flowers and swaying willows, so that readers will not feel that they have fallen into a cliché."

"Brother Ning is a great talent, his poetry is indeed so, I admire him!"

It turned out that they were discussing their experience in writing poetry. The poetry meeting had not even started yet, but the literary atmosphere had already begun to spread along the riverside.

Surrounded by the crowd was a Confucian scholar in white robes. He seemed to be quite prestigious among these students. Another person in the crowd asked him a question.

"Brother Ning, in your opinion, whose poem will be at the top of this list tonight?"

"It's hard to say, but judging from previous years, the winner should be the young master Fang Difang of Duke Lu's mansion and the young master Xu Yilin of Xu Shangshu family."

The white-robed Confucian scholar known as Brother Ning obviously enjoyed the feeling of being sought after by others. He closed his eyes and shook his head while slowly analyzing the situation for everyone. He seemed to know a lot about things related to this poetry meeting.

"Fenghua list?" Situ Xi tilted his head and asked Zhongli Min.

"There are many poetry societies in Xuan'an, led by Prince Mi's 'Peach Blossom Poetry Society' and Duke Lu's 'Qingfeng Collection'. The nobles would often organize gatherings of their respective poetry societies within these three days, during which they would invite

Respected elders in the city will serve as judges, and the best works in their respective poetry gatherings will be sent to these poetry masters every day, and the winners can be posted on this glorious list for everyone to appreciate."

Is it so formal? Situ Xi thought that this Taoyuan Poetry Club was just for everyone to sit together and chat and drink. Unexpectedly, this could almost be regarded as a large-scale literary competition.

Instead of joining in the fun, Situ Xi took Zhong Lizhen's wrist and walked towards a pavilion beside him.

"My lord, do you think what the scholar just said was right?"

Just after he sat down, Zhong Limin helped Situ Xi roll up his sleeves to prevent them from falling on the seat and getting dusty, and asked him with a smile what he thought of the conversation between the scholars just now.

"Are you talking about the method of writing poetry he mentioned? Words are something that only belongs to you at the beginning of creation. I think a good poet will not deliberately write to arouse people's resonance."

"When writing about spring breeze, there can't be spring breeze in the poem. What's the truth? Just like if I want to write about white snow, I think it must have 'snow'. As long as I see this word, the colorfulness of winter will come to my heart. Not all

The winter in people's minds is like 'birds disappear from thousands of mountains and all traces of people disappear'."

Everyone has their own understanding of words and emotions. For example, compared to beautiful poems, some people prefer to wake up in a warm room and be surprised by a friend saying: Look, it’s snowing outside.

.

Isn’t this the core of poetry that touches strong emotions that touch people’s hearts?

"It's such a saying that 'birds fly across thousands of mountains and every trace of human beings disappears across thousands of paths.' This little friend, I wonder if you can come over and talk about it?"

A steady and clear voice sounded from the right side. Situ Xi looked around and saw that the voice came from an old man in another pavilion below. In front of him was a dining table and a middle-aged man beside him.

Stand.

The old man was waving to Situ Xi.

Although the middle-aged man was wearing regular clothes, he had a silver fish bag around his waist, and there were two guards guarding the pavilion outside. Everything showed that the old man had an extraordinary status.

Looking at Zhong Lizhen and seeing her shaking her head, Situ Xi knew that this person was not an acquaintance of hers.

The elder invited him, so naturally he still wanted to go. Situ Xi stood up and saluted, put down his sleeves, straightened his clothes, walked slowly down the steps, and walked into the pavilion with Zhong Lixin.

"I've met the old gentleman." The couple bowed together.

"No need to be polite, little friend, please sit down. I just heard what my little friend said, which was quite insightful. I also heard two wonderful poems from my little friend. I couldn't help but want to ask my little friend for a complete poem." The old man packed up.

He cleared the table, invited Situ Xi to sit across from him, and then explained his intention to invite him over.

"Old sir, you're welcome. This poem was not written by this boy, but the old man wants to know. I don't dare to hide my secrets." Situ Xi was not polite, and sat down on the chair generously. When he saw the old man pouring a cup of hot water for himself,

After tea, he thanked him and recited the entire poem "Jiang Xue":

"Birds have disappeared from thousands of mountains, and people have disappeared from thousands of paths. A man with a coir raincoat hat is alone in a boat, fishing alone in the snow in the cold river."

After hearing the entire five-character quatrain, the old man murmured in a low voice and repeated it several times. He turned his head and looked towards the river with a sad look on his face.

"A lone man in a boat with a coir raincoat fishing alone in the snow on a cold river. What a timely poem."

The Fenjiang River is obviously clear and flowing water, but the old man said that "fishing alone in the cold river snow" is just the right time. It seems that he is feeling a little sad at the moment.

"My friend, who wrote this poem?"

"It's Mr. Liu Zongyuan Liu." Situ Xi told the truth.

"Liu Zongyuan?" The old man turned to look at the middle-aged official standing beside him.

"Back to Duke Ming, there shouldn't be such a prominent figure in the court. This poem is excellent. If it was written by someone before, it must not be an unknown person..." The middle-aged man looked at Situ Xi when he spoke, questioning whether he told the truth.

.

"That's fine, it's just that the mood of this poem is similar to that of this frustrated old man." Ignoring it, the old man was quite self-deprecating.


Chapter completed!