Cheng Cheng's eyebrows raised and he turned back suddenly.
But the crowd watching the excitement has already surged up, and it’s hard to tell who made the move.
In front of everyone in the pavilion, Brother Liu looked angry.
When Chen Ping saw this, he had no choice but to cup his hands and say: "Brother Liu, please forgive me. I just stumbled because my steps were unsteady. I didn't mean to interrupt my brother's poetry writing."
"Forget it, there's no point in writing poetry here," Cheng Cheng didn't expect that someone would do something shady, and his face was extremely disgusting, "Let's go to the Liushang Canal to watch Xuanli talk."
Everyone's eyes were on Chen Ping. When Liu Shusheng saw them leaving, he sneered: "Why, do you two think my poems are unacceptable?"
Since he couldn't catch the culprit, Cheng Cheng had no choice but to suppress his temper and said in a deep voice: "Brother Liu is overthinking. We just came to the literary conference and we just planned to walk around."
Chen Ping didn't want to stay here too long, so he turned around and left.
Before the two of them had even taken a step, they heard someone sarcastically saying: "I heard that the head of the case wrote a strange poem called "Mo Mei" during the county examination. How could he escape from the battle now if he has such a poem?"
"Our county chief is only eleven years old now. He comes from a farmer's background. He has never seen much writing since he was a child. I guess it's because the teacher taught him well."
Liu Shusheng also interjected and said quietly: "Ye Wenchang has great skills, so his disciples are naturally not simple people. Otherwise, why would he become Mr. Zhao's disciple again now?"
The implication is that the upper beam is not straight and the lower beam is crooked. I don’t know what means were used to get the county chief, and now he has tricked Zhao Wenhe into becoming his disciple.
Cheng Cheng was not familiar with Mr. Ye, but the matter involved Zhao Wenhe, and his face suddenly turned green.
However, before he could get angry, Chen Ping turned around calmly, with calm eyes, and said calmly: "I think what you guys said is inappropriate. As a student, you should not make unreasonable comments about your teachers. As for writing poetry?"
He paused, stepped forward, reached out and picked up the poem Liu Shusheng had just written from the table, and chuckled.
"I'm not very talented, but I feel that this poem... is indeed stingy in layout, pretending to be sad for the spring and autumn, and perfunctory, which is unpalatable to my ears!"
As soon as these words came out, several people in the pavilion were extremely excited.
"The boy is rampant!"
“I don’t know how high the sky is and how high it is!”
"How dare you speak such arrogant words!"
Liu Shusheng's companions made a great noise in criticizing and reprimanding him, and in an instant, people gathered inside and outside.
Even the people on the other side who were unrolling and painting, playing the piano and listening quietly, all looked over with doubts on their faces.
On the corridor, in the center of the rockery, a person stood up and looked into the distance.
"In ancient times, the literati were nothing more than playing music, chess, calligraphy and painting, poetry, wine and tea, but there were always people vying for beauty. I saw that my nephew was also there, Brother Cheng, would you like to go and have a look?"
"This kid is used to being wild in the capital. It's okay to let him suffer the consequences," the middle-aged man opposite laughed, "Sir, don't worry about him, we will drink from you."
Facing the siege, Chen Pingping did not change his expression and said calmly: "Although I am young and young, I am self-aware, but this poem is no more than the talent of others."
Liu Shusheng laughed angrily, "If you say so, you must have a good poem? Then please!"
Chen Ping came to Japan today to visit the cultural fair, but he didn’t expect someone to make an issue of Mr. Ye here. The gossip is really annoying.
If that's the case, then just show off your skills.
"I'll write it!"
When Cheng Cheng saw Chen Ping walking towards the stone table, he quickly put up his pen and said, "Chen Ping, read it."
Cheng Cheng has mastered the art of wild grass, wielding it like thunder with great momentum.
Chen Ping nodded. Since Cheng Cheng is ghostwriting, he will concentrate on pretending to be C.
"Since you are thinking about the "Dark Plum Blossoms" below, today I will compose a poem called "White Plum Blossoms"."
When everyone heard the words, they waited with bated breath.
Liu Shusheng snorted coldly, thinking that Chen Ping was just being mysterious.
Chen Ping cleared his throat, paused and said loudly: "Wearing this body in the ice and snow forest is not like peaches and plums mixed with fragrant dust!"
The scene was silent. Liu Shusheng was stunned and his eyes widened.
Cheng Cheng's hand holding the pen paused and he looked up at Chen Ping.
Wearing this body in the ice and snow forest is not like peach and plum mixed with fragrant dust...!
"Okay!"
"Wonderful!"
"What a saying: 'Peach plums are not mixed with fragrance dust'."
Waves of cheers suddenly erupted around the pavilion.
This is simply a penetrating description of Mei's unruliness, tenacity of character, and virtue of not collaborating with the world.
Isn't this exactly Chen Ping's most powerful rebuttal to the slander?
Cheng Cheng's breathing quickened, his back straightened a little, and then he waved his pen and grass flew wildly.
Seeing that the effect was achieved, Chen Ping took advantage of the victory and said the last two sentences: "Suddenly, the fragrance spread all night long, spreading like spring throughout the world."
As soon as the whole poem came out, the atmosphere at the scene became high again.
It's just four lines of poetry, twenty-eight words, but everyone feels so happy.
The way Cheng Cheng looked at Chen Ping also changed drastically.
The faces of Shusheng Liu and several of his companions turned pale, and they suddenly became anxious when they saw that their limelight was being robbed.
"These two poems are so similar, I wonder if you had prepared them a long time ago!"
"Dark Plum" and "White Plum", don't they mean that there was something wrong with the county exam that day?
Chen Ping laughed when he heard this, "In that case, it will be the Mid-Autumn Festival in a few days, so I will give you another song! Senior brother!"
"Here!"
Cheng Cheng's face turned red and he started writing again.
Chen Ping stared at Liu Shusheng and said a sentence without thinking: "There are no candles in the river tower and the dew is desolate. The wind blows and the lights are smiling brightly. Where did the sweet-scented osmanthus fall overnight? There is the sound of curtains in the moonlight!"
I don’t believe Tang Xianzu’s “Tianzhu Mid-Autumn Festival” can’t suppress you young people.
This poem sets off the desolation with laughter, amplifying the sound of the sweet-scented osmanthus falling from the branches and the idling of the curtain, and the strong sorrow and thoughts, following it like a shadow.
After hearing this, Liu Shusheng was completely speechless, his lips trembled a few times, and his body fell back, almost falling to the ground.
Cheng Cheng was surrounded by people, all staring at the poems on the table and marveling.
Chen Ping calmly raised his hands and said: "This senior, I accept the concession."
Everyone present knew clearly that this was no concession. It was clearly pressing Shusheng Liu’s face to the ground and rubbing it!
Someone was carefully savoring the two poems and couldn't help but curiously asked, "Such a talent is so rare. I wonder how Mr. Chen mastered his poetry skills? It really makes us ashamed."
Chen Ping explained modestly: "Senior, I'm serious. I don't dare to lie. It was Mr. Ye who taught me how to compose poems to express my feelings. These two poems... can be regarded as an accidental gift today."<
/p>
"What an unexpected gift!" Someone couldn't help but sigh: "In the past, I only knew that Mr. Ye was good at arithmetic, but I didn't expect him to be quite successful in poetry."
Everyone has mixed emotions.
In ancient times, the character and literary talent of literati were often treated separately.
The effect of the two poems was visible to the naked eye. Even if everyone was dissatisfied with Ye Wenchang's various rumors at the moment, they didn't mention it any more.
Outside the crowd, two middle-aged men in luxurious clothes stood silently for a long time.
They heard the noise and walked out of the rockery, and they all nodded secretly.
"I learned a lot from today's literary meeting. Brother Cheng, please forgive me. I'm afraid I have to leave first."
The other person came to his senses and said quickly: "Master Shaoyin, I will give you a ride."
"Stay, stay."
There were endless compliments in the pavilion, and Cheng Cheng's laughter almost overwhelmed everyone, "Junior brother, you are really good at hiding your clumsiness!"
Chen Ping touched his nose sheepishly.
......
At a quarter of the hour, Shaoyin's carriage stopped outside a solemn mansion, with the Lu Mansion plaque towering over it, creating an extraordinary atmosphere.
The boy in front of the door immediately came forward and asked with a surprised look on his face: "Sir, why are you here so late at night?"
"I'm here to see the prefect," Shao Yin waved his hand and walked directly in. He walked through the corridor and entered the study directly, "Master Lu, Master Lu!"
"What's the matter, are you so anxious?"
The lights in the study were brightly lit, and Lu Wei, the prefect of Qianzhou, raised his head and looked at the door of the study.
Shao Yin chuckled, walked in quickly, and took out two pieces of paper from his sleeves, "Don't blame me, sir. I'm here to invite you to read poems tonight."
"Oh, you are so interested." Lu Wei took the paper, read it and stood up suddenly, asking in surprise: "What a poem!!! Who wrote this?"
"You might as well take a guess," Shao Yin said, "This person is only eleven years old and is currently studying at Jiangxia Academy."
Lu Wei was stunned, his eyes fell on the "White Plum", he seemed to have thought of something, and asked tentatively.
"Eleven years old, eleven years old...is that the little criminal?"