Chapter Fourteen: Father's Work and Son's Inheritance (Part 2)
The scholar who was presiding over tonight's poetry meeting in the hall, whose surname was Hong Dan Yisong, saw that this uninvited guest in ragged clothes did not scare him away in shame. Instead, he sat down calmly and frowned gradually.
Tonight is an elegant party. Whether we know each other or not, talented people and talented women are naturally welcome to come. But this young man in rags who came out of who knows which village is sitting here, which is simply a disgrace to the scenery, especially if you are here.
Just eating and drinking?
Hong Song was born in the Jinxi Hong family, a well-known family in the county. He had always been easy to socialize with, and he gathered a group of comrades to form a poetry club. In Chun'an County, even if he had never seen any talented people, he would have heard about them.
.But I have never heard of such a famous person, nor have I heard of any celebrities passing through recently.
Pretending to be a master in front of him is tantamount to humiliating oneself. Could it be that an unsophisticated young man has barged in by mistake? Thinking of this, Hong Song couldn't help but laugh and said: "Although there are no great scholars talking and laughing here, there are still people who come and go."
There must be no white men. You are dressed in rags, how can you wear your clothes in an elegant hall?"
Fang Yingwu only looked at the bead curtain, and he was very curious about the appearance of socialites in this era, but he casually replied: "But in the ordinary alleys where merchant girls live, who is not allowed to enter the house? How dare I ask what is elegance? You call it elegance."
Confucianism, could it be that the saints have taught me something, so judging people by their appearance is considered elegant?"
Hong Song was speechless for a moment, but he could tell that the other party's conversation was definitely not that of an ordinary villager. It looked like he had read a book. Someone next to him said: "Brother Hong, why bother talking so much? Just give him a test and you will know."
Retreat from difficulty."
After hearing this, Hong Song had an idea. He looked at Fang Yingwu's body and continued to say in a mocking tone: "This friend is very smart. We don't know the depth and we don't know how to entertain him. Now I have a question. I can wear four ragged green robes."
The words are used as poems, not limited to rhymes, and I invite my friends to show off their talents."
There was a low roar of laughter in the room, and someone commented: "Brother Hong's question is quite damaging. It's a bit embarrassing, but it would be nice to ask people to leave."
"Yes, the title is too narrow. Don't say that this kind of poetry is difficult to write. Even if I can barely form a sentence, I'm afraid I won't look good."
Fang Yingwu turned a deaf ear to the laughter. He turned a few times in his mind, but he still chanted indifferently and feebly: "The ragged green robe, the poplar breeze blows, and the dream follows me to look at Yingzhou. I sigh who repairs it, and I have spent three autumns. I have struggled for thousands of years.
He has a hundred threads, and he is used to pulling the curtain hook. Sometimes, when a guest comes, he will knock his clogs off, and when he wants to leave, he still stays..."
Everyone was surprised that, regardless of whether the poem was good or bad, he actually composed it impromptu, and it was not something as short as a quatrain or a small order. It was really surprising. You know, Cao Zijian was so talented.
There are seven steps to a beautiful poem, but only five words and four sentences are written.
Then someone figured out the way out and explained to the people around him: "This person must know that his clothes are shabby, so he usually prepares poems and takes them out just at this time. Just like me preparing for exams."
The people next to him nodded in agreement: "Look at his calm appearance, he must be well prepared, so it's not surprising."
Someone else deliberately said loudly: "It's just a pile of words, just barely coherent, it doesn't mean much!"
Fang Yingwu remained calm, and raised his voice a bit, bringing out a few sonorous sounds as he continued to sing: "What do you want? Such a robe, as it has always been, is also gentle. I want Fan Dan to have hundreds of knots, but also
More romantic. I recall the old days when Wang Meng was fierce, his linen clothes were short, and the world was like a pile. He embraced the bright moon, his mind was clear and his bones were cold, and he was a thick quilt for a while."
Fan Dan was a famous scholar in the Eastern Han Dynasty, and he was famous for his poverty-stricken and chaste behavior; Wang Meng was a Xianxiang in the former Qin Dynasty, and he wore linen shorts before the emperor when he was not yet prosperous.
Hearing Fan Dan's sentence of "Baijie, more romantic, Wang Meng, Mai Yi, the world is in full swing", everyone in the room felt that they were bold, unrestrained, unrestrained and extraordinary, and filled their hearts. Moreover, from the cold expression in front of them,
When young people say it, it has a special charm.
After reciting the entire poem, Fan Dan, Wang Meng and other ancient celebrities finished the poem. Fang Yingwu seemed to be worried that others in the room would not be able to hear the tune, so he kindly reminded him, "The poem card is called "Recalling the Flute on the Phoenix Stage."
But at this time, there were seventeen people in the hall, and no one responded. They were very quiet for a moment, probably because of the huge contrast. At this time, when others looked at Fang Yingwu, they seemed to suddenly realize that his appearance and demeanor were out of the ordinary, and he did not seem to be a misunderstanding.
A mountain villager who found his way to the Peach Blossom Land.
Hong Song shook his head with a wry smile. This poem may not but contain the meaning of mocking himself for choosing people based on their clothes. He was still puzzled. From what rock did this young man jump out? He took away everything as soon as he showed up.
own limelight.
No matter whether this person has written the poem right now or has prepared it in advance, since he can take it out, it is not easy to chase him away. After all, tonight is a poetry meeting, how can we exclude talented people?
The truth behind Hōkō is that he is narrow-minded.
Thinking of this, Hong Song turned around, stopped looking at Fang Yingwu, and coughed heavily, "It's getting late, please ask Miss Baimei to come out!"
Everyone then shifted their attention, no longer paying attention to Fang Yingwu, and turned their heads one after another. The beaded curtain on the other side of the room shook, and Fang Yingwu also looked curiously at this place, and a delicate beauty like the wind blowing in the willows flashed out from the back of the hall.
.
I saw that she was in her late twenties, with trimmed hair and a thin layer of makeup. She was elegant and pleasant. If she hadn't been in an ordinary place, one would have thought her to be a boudoir in a deep house.
I saw her lowering her eyebrows and smiling slightly, shyly and timidly. She blushed slightly and said in a soft voice, "Good luck, gentlemen."
Fang Yingwu's thirst for knowledge was satisfied. It turns out that scholars all like this kind of ladylike tone. Is this an ancient version of role-playing?
Hong Song, the person in charge, pulled out a peach blossom from his sleeve like a magic trick, "Bai Letian's poem goes like this: April in the world is full of beauty, and the peach blossoms in the mountain temple are beginning to bloom. I went to the mountains yesterday and picked peach blossom branches..."
Halfway through his words, Hong Song suddenly placed a peach blossom on Miss Baimei's temple, and smiled at everyone: "Now I will use peach blossom as the title. There is no limit to the poems. You can show your talents!"
As if she couldn't bear Mr. Hong's teasing, Miss Baimei turned her head away in shame and covered her face with her sleeves, not daring to face the crowd.
The wise man immediately realized that this topic was difficult to write. The peach blossom is a symbol of beauty and frivolity in poetry, but this peach blossom is inserted on the temple of the beauty in front of him, so he cannot write like that.
Everyone was racking their brains for planning, and the atmosphere in the hall suddenly became quiet. Suddenly, several clear reading sounds came from the corner, interrupting the silence.
"The warm and greasy texture is pitiful, and the powder is mixed into the powder at a young age. The new warm and translucent red jade, the evening breeze blows the wine and brings out the spring..." Isn't this the young man who just acted as an uninvited guest? Who is it?
?
Fang Yingwu continued to recite as if there was no one around: "Looking at the wall has an attitude like a smile, but the person on the other side is speechless, so it's annoying. Don't be ordinary and frivolous, the Yang sisters are the predecessors."
It is a very good song with seven rhymes. It seems to be about flowers and people. There are people among flowers and flowers among people. It is also very relevant. It can't be better placed in the current atmosphere.
Everyone was speechless, but there was a silence in the hall. If they were acquaintances, everyone could laugh a few times, cheer a few times, and flatter a few times, but who knows this person? The key is that no one is sure to write a better story than this.
The difference in poetry is too big.
The so-called poetry gathering is only lively when everyone has their own merits and comments on each other. Once there is a person or work that outdoes the others, it will be a quiet event, which is not necessarily a good thing for the party itself. For example, this situation...
As the president of the poetry club, Hong Song felt very embarrassed. He gathered seventeen comrades to gather here just to praise each other and create the reputation of the poetry club. After the meeting, he would publish an elegant collection.
But now it was a disaster, and this person suddenly appeared and disrupted his plans.
Hong Song was still a somewhat tolerant person. He smiled bitterly, stopped presiding, walked up to Fang Yingwu, and asked, "We are destined to meet each other. Who are our friends?"
Fang Yingwu let out a long sigh, "Your Excellency, you finally remembered to ask for my name, but I'm so excited tonight!"
After saying that, Fang Yingwu pushed the table away, stood up and walked towards the door, half singing and half chanting: "The wild cranes are wandering in the clouds for half a year, sleeping in the middle of the moon while enjoying the mountains and streams. Who can talk about words in the country? He is only ashamed of the lack of wine money in his waist!"
"
After hearing the four sentences, a picture of "an expert hermit playing in the mountains and forests" automatically appeared in everyone's mind.
This mysterious young man seems to have appeared out of thin air. He is a disdainful and aloof man who dares to say, "Who can talk about words in China?"
Listening to his four lines of ballads, it must be that he is a mountain man who lives in seclusion in the county. There is nothing else in Chun'an County. It is a county with many mountains and rivers. It is known as the county with thousands of mountains and hundreds of rivers. Is there really a great talent living in seclusion here?
He was full of talents but did not show them in the world at that time. He lingered in the mountains, forests and springs to admire his solitary beauty. He took advantage of his excitement to walk on the moon and walked in the world of mortals. He left a few poems when he was excited, but when his excitement was exhausted, he drifted away again.
It's a quiet and exquisite place, I can't wait to see it. It's worth it to meet such a master tonight!
Hong Song quickly shouted: "May I ask your Excellency, your surname, and where you are from?"
With his back turned to the crowd, Fang Yingwu waved his sleeves in a smart way and replied: "I am a commoner, wandering in the mountains and forests, reading a few books in my free time. It is difficult for me to enter the elegant hall, so I will say goodbye!"
The deeds of the master were so extraordinary that everyone was in a daze for a while.
Walking to the platform outside the lobby door, facing outward, Fang Yingwu looked bright. He gritted his teeth and suppressed his smile. He must not laugh in a bad way at this time, otherwise he would be in trouble.
He saw that others didn't understand him at all, and since not understanding him would lead to a sense of mystery, he should take the initiative to strengthen this sense of mystery, and the more mysterious the better.
That's why he had an idea and created an image of a lonely and refined hermit. Because scholars all have a hermit complex in their hearts, otherwise how could the Shanren style suddenly become popular in the middle and late Ming Dynasty.
It is conceivable that after tonight, I will definitely become famous. Many people will go around to find out who I am and where I live. Word of mouth will only add fuel to the flames and make my fame even more intense!
Then Fang Yingwu thought that the plan might as well change. Since he wanted to maintain a sense of mystery, he couldn't go to the county school to ask for his father's grain tomorrow. After meeting the county magistrate, he should go home quickly and never stay in the county. Lost
Mystery is boring.
The ambitious Fang Yingwu had made up his mind and was about to step down the stairs. Suddenly he heard a woman's voice in the hall shouting: "The slave family knows, you are Fang Yingwu from Huaxi, and your father is Fang Qingzhi!"
This sentence was like thunder, shocking Fang Yingwu. What? Someone actually recognized him, so what sense of mystery is there?
He quickly turned around, only to find that today's heroine, Miss Bai Mei, had already stood not far behind him at some unknown time. Miss Bai's previous shy posture was wiped away, and there was a hint of ferocity on her pink face.
The eyes that should have been agile shot out several sword-like rays of light, piercing straight towards him.
What's going on? Fang Yingwu was helpless for a moment because he didn't understand what happened.
Bai Mei stared at Fang Yingwu, gritted her teeth and said: "Three years ago, the slave family was entrusted with a man named Fang Qingzhi for life. But he told the slave family how a house of prostitutes could enter the gate of a saint.
Don’t bring up the matter of tarnishing the family! This is a lifelong shame and humiliation. I want to thank your father very much!"
She became cruel and said to everyone: "Everyone here, who can suppress this son, I am willing to entrust you with my body to express my gratitude! Not only will I not take any cents of the ransom, but there will be no problem in paying the dowry!"
The carefully constructed painting was punctured, and Fang Yingwu swallowed speechlessly. God is not as good as man, and he was tricked by his father again when he was not careful. He bumped into a petty woman who had been severely hurt by his father, and she was still a famous woman. From now on,
The pressure of being retaliated against is great.
The saying during the day that a father's karma should be carried on by his son is a true prophecy! This karma is also the karma of karma, and the karma of karma must also be borne by him as the son!
Facing this fantastic turn, everyone couldn't help but be immersed in the emptiness of the mountain man Gaoshi's illusion being broken, and were speechless for a moment.
Only tonight's host, Hong Song, couldn't help but twitch his face a few times. He felt that it was too bizarre, and he smiled bitterly and said: "It turns out that your little brother is a descendant of Fang Qing. He pretends to be a god and makes a fool of himself. This...
