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Chapter 51 Ye Feng's Talent

Everyone was praising Gu Chunuan. The more Ye Huang listened, the more uncomfortable he became. He hurriedly asked people to read the poems and books written by other talented people.

The servants showed the poems of Chang Zhen and Chang Ping. One of them wrote the first poem and the other nine poems. Although the poems they wrote were good, they were still far inferior to those of Gu Chunuan.

King Ze was even worse, having only written five poems. His poems were not good, and his calligraphy was even worse. His handwriting was sloppy and perfunctory. It seemed that these poems were written by him when he was extremely anxious.

Gu Chunuan teased, "Prince Ze, you have such little skill, but you dare to surrender Prince Ze's palace and a separate courtyard to me. Tsk, tsk, tsk, you are so generous. Even if I don't accept it, I will obey you."

King Ze had a myocardial infarction and a mouthful of blood kept rising in his throat, but he suppressed it firmly.

His level goes beyond that.

He was stung by bees and had wounds all over his body. It was really itchy and painful.

and...

He was shocked by Gu Chunuan, so the more anxious he became, the less inspired he became.

But there was no way he could say these words.

"The top spot isn't yours yet, so why are you proud of it?"

"Even if the top spot is not mine, it is definitely not yours. If I guessed correctly, you will definitely be at the bottom in the poetry and calligraphy competition."

"Forty-two poems composed by maple leaves."

As soon as Ye Feng's poem was hung up, the whole audience gasped.

Every one of the rows of poems is top-notch, and the calligraphy is even more so.

Even Gu Chunuan was shocked.

Ye Feng's calligraphy is unbridled, bold, unrestrained and free, and is not inferior to hers at all.

Moreover, his poetry and calligraphy are dignified and solemn, without any pretense, and one look at them reveals his magnanimity.

They say words are like people, and Ye Feng's words are so upright, I'm afraid his people can't be any worse.

"The broken lamp upstairs is accompanied by the dawn frost, and the person who sleeps alone rises from the acacia bed. How many lovesickness can one night stand? The ends of the earth are not long."

A good sentence is like a one-night stand, and the ends of the earth are not long.

Ye Feng's talent and learning are by no means inferior to hers, I'm afraid they are even better.

If she hadn't relied on ancient poems, I'm afraid she wouldn't be Ye Feng's opponent at all.

Looking at Ye Feng, he just pouted slightly, straightened his back, and stood silently waiting for Eunuch Ma to announce the result. Facing the praises from everyone, there was no trace of pride on his face, as if he was not the one they were praising at all.

Not anxious or dry, not shocked by honor or disgrace, but rather good-tempered.

"I didn't expect that a poor official could be so talented. It's incredible."

"No, I have always thought that King Ze and Gu Chuyun's talents are amazing. Today, after reading the poems of Miss Gu San and Ye Feng, I know what it means that there is a world outside the world, and there are people outside the world."

"Who is Ye Feng? Why have I never heard of his reputation before?"

"A poor official has no reputation before he achieves fame."

"Tell me, who can win this poetry and calligraphy competition, Ye Feng or Miss Gu San?"

"It's hard to say. The poetry and calligraphy written by the two of them are unparalleled in the world, but I feel that Miss Gu San's poetry seems to be even better."

The Emperor of the Night thought that Gu Chunuan would win, and felt chilled in his heart. When he saw Ye Feng's talent, he immediately became interested, "Let's see how many poems Miss Gu San has written?"

The Emperor of the Night hoped that there would be less than forty-two poems, but Eunuch Ma's words extinguished his last hope.

"Miss Gu San composed forty-three poems."

The Emperor of the Night felt like he was fainting.

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