Many people were shocked: This guy has such a powerful mouth!
Yan Xiuxiu, Bai Feifei, the woman in purple's eyes lit up!
Lord Magistrate, Commander Xue Pan frowned at the same time and glanced behind him with a cold light from the corners of his eyes!
Whoosh!
Yang Wanli, who was standing behind him, turned pale and cold sweat poured down his forehead.
In a poetry gathering, whoever can dominate the audience with his writing is the greatest!
Anyone who dares to talk about status and status will be scolded to death by scholars all over the world if word spreads about it.
What he said just now was too hasty, involving Xue Pan, Zhang Han, and Yan's identity, and he also wanted to borrow a knife to kill someone, which was a taboo in the Poetry Society!
The atmosphere was in a stalemate, and suddenly loud shouts broke out.
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"Mr. Haitian is here!"
"Mr. Kubei is here!"
"Mr. Luan Qing is here!"
"Mr. Tong Gu is here!"
Three old men with white beards and hair, wearing ancient clothes and long sleeves, and Wang Haitian with slightly white temples arrived at Dinglong Terrace.
"There's no need to come down to pick us up. Our old guys' hands and feet are still fine!"
Wang Haitian laughed and scolded, and together with the three old men, they stepped onto the high platform!
The commander, magistrate, fellow magistrates, and officials turned around quickly, and even Wang Yuan and Bai Feifei stood up.
Great cause is a world for scholars!
Those who can be called sir in the Dinglong Poetry Society are all great Confucians who are famous all over the world.
Each of these great Confucian scholars was famous all over the world and had disciples who were serving as officials at court or abroad.
Who doesn't respect these old gentlemen? Don't look at them as ignorant and ignorant. Someone will do it for them.
The honorable Xue Pan is at the front, the prefect, Tongzhi are behind, Yang Wanli and others are in the middle, and Wang Yuan and Bai Feifei are hanging at the end!
"I've met Mr. Haitian, Mr. Jiubian, Mr. Luan Qing, and Mr. Tong Gu!"
"Meet sir!"
"I've met my master!"
Xue Pan and Zhang Han saluted with clasped fists, and many others also clasped their fists in salute!
And as Yan Fuzhu knelt down, most of the disciples also knelt down together!
Wang Yuan, who only held his fists, was stunned: What is going on?
"You don't understand!"
Bai Feifei covered her small mouth with one hand and whispered: "In recent years, wars have occurred frequently in Chengzhou, and bandits have been infested along the way. There are fewer and fewer candidates to come to the Dinglongtai Poetry Festival.
Seeing that it could no longer be done, the officials invited influential scholars to take charge of the matter.
No, it's Mr. Haitian's turn.
When these great scholars come, how can their disciples and grandchildren not come to support them?
Those who kneel down and salute are descendants of our children and grandchildren!"
Wang Haitian waved his hand: "Go on stage, drink, and compose poetry!"
The three old gentlemen joked: "Hey, Xiao Wang, I agreed to be the host of this poetry club because of my feelings, not to select talents, but to drink wine in the name of composing poetry!"
"Hahaha!"
The whole audience burst into laughter!
Everyone went up to the high platform one after another and took their seats!
The Dinglongtai Poetry Festival, which has lasted for more than two hundred years, has officially begun again!