Chapter 549: An De Guang Mansion Ten Thousand Rooms
His eyes passed over the faces of the scribes from Zhao and Qin.
Then he leaned down and asked, "Xiao Annian, which one do you think is better?"
Chen Anyian was in a dilemma and turned his attention to the "dream" list published by Zhou Guozhang.
"Uncle Zhongyong, why don't you choose Zhou Guo's gold list?"
Li Changan smiled and said, "Zhou's is the simplest, just leave it to the end and solve it easily."
These words did not lower the voice at all, but instead deliberately spread the voice.
Upon hearing this, all the scribes in Yong'an Square chuckled.
Uncle Zhongyong has already won the third ranking, and everyone has absolute confidence that as long as Uncle Zhongyong takes action, he will definitely be able to capture him.
On the high platform, the Zhou scribe's complexion instantly turned livid.
The dangerous look in Ji Wen's eyes became more intense, "Li Chang'an, no matter how strong your poetry is, it's just poetry..."
The threat in the words was not concealed.
The top three rankings he occupied have now been taken down by Li Changan.
Among the three remaining gold lists, he is the top one on two of them.
Coupled with the contempt in Li Changan's words, Ji Wen became even more angry.
Li Changan didn't care about Ji Wen's threat, "But as far as I know, the strength of poetry nowadays is closely related to the fate of the country."
"Isn't it because of poetry that the Zhou Kingdom occupies its current active position?"
"Or are you saying that you want to take action against me?"
As soon as he finished speaking, many scribes near Li Changan quickly approached and separated Li Changan from the high platform, fearing that the scribes from the five countries would jump over the wall in a hurry.
Ji Wen's facial muscles twitched, and finally he sneered, "If you really wanted to take action, I would have suppressed you with just one hand."
"The power of the Zhou Kingdom cannot be denied just by your words."
"The Six Kingdoms Poetry Society is just the beginning. Do you really think you can suppress the fate of the Jin Kingdom by yourself?"
"It's just a mantis trying to block a car."
Li Changan thanked the Jin scribes who were waiting at his side, and then looked at Ji Wen with a faint look of pity on his face.
"Forget it, the sparrow knows the ambition of the swan."
"The next poem will be given to you."
With that said, he walked up to the "wind" list.
The literary energy gathered into a strong wind, blowing whistlingly.
With people all over the capital eagerly awaiting it, Li Changan's first poem on the "wind" list swept the gold list scroll with a strong wind.
"The Song of Thatched Cottage Broken by the Autumn Wind."
"The high autumn wind howls in August and rolls up the three-layer thatch on my house. The thatch flies across the river and scatters on the outskirts of the river. The taller ones hang on their branches and grow to the forest tips, while the lower ones float around the sunken pond."
There is no imaginary energy flowing through the long river, and there is no ethereal and transcendent object.
Many scribes couldn't help but frowned when they looked at the few poems in front of them.
This paragraph is written as if it were a real scene.
A skinny old man in thin, shabby clothes was standing outside the house, leaning on a cane.
He looked longingly at the roaring autumn wind, rolling up the thatch on his house layer by layer, blowing it across the river, and scattering it everywhere in the suburbs of the river.
Just reading this paragraph, the old man in the poem is anxious and resentful about the strong wind that destroyed the house, which makes people feel the same involuntarily.
"Rolling", "flying", "crossing", "spreading", "hanging" and "floating", one after another, the dynamics form a vivid picture, which can be described as exquisite.
It's just that the style is completely different from the previous three poems.
And it contains a strong sense of decadence.
He is no longer as wild and heroic as before, swallowing mountains and rivers with anger.
The whole capital seemed to become depressed and anxious following these lines of poetry.
"A group of children in the south village bullied me into being old and weak, but I could not stand facing thieves. I openly carried the grass into the bamboo, my lips were burnt and my mouth was dry and I couldn't breathe. When I came back, I leaned on my stick and sighed."
At this time, the second paragraph of the poem appears.
The atmosphere in the capital became even more gloomy.
The thatch just written "Sajiang Jiao" in the previous section cannot be recovered. In addition, there is also thatch that fell on flat ground and can be recovered.
However, he was carried away by the "Nancun group of children".
This old man is too miserable.
If the old man is not "old and feeble" but is strong and vigorous in his youth, he will naturally not be bullied like this.
"I can bear to be a thief in front of him", but the group of children could not bear to be thieves in front of him.
A feeling of lamentation, sorrow and indignation was beyond words.
The strong wind on the gold list became more and more raging, causing the sky above the capital to roar, making people's hearts tremble.
This situation of poverty makes many people sigh.
No wonder the old man "returned to his staff and sighed to himself."
Some scribes suddenly woke up.
Isn't such a difficult situation similar to that of the Jin Dynasty?
Uncle Zhongyong used this to explain the poverty of Jin State!
Soon, the third verse swept into the gold list with a strong wind,
"The wind has fixed the dark clouds, and the autumn desert is turning dark. The quilt has been as cold as iron for many years, and the baby is tired of lying on it. There is no drying place, and the rain is like hemp on the feet. I have lost my sleep and seldom slept, so why did I get wet all night long?
thorough!"
When the poem appeared, the sky in the capital also darkened, as if it was really going to rain heavily along with the poem.
The house leaked and it rained all night.
The already difficult situation became even more miserable.
The first two sentences were written in thick ink, creating a gloomy and melancholy atmosphere, which made many people feel nervous.
Especially the last two sentences, "The quilt has been as cold as iron for many years, and the delicate child is lying in bed and is cracked." It makes a few people feel the same.
The linen quilt had been covered for many years and was cold and hard like iron. The child was not sleeping well and the quilt was torn.
People who have never experienced real poverty cannot understand it.
The house is broken and leaking, and the quilt is like iron. The old man's difficult situation makes people unable to help but sigh.
Many people have only one thought in their minds.
Can this old man survive until the clouds clear and the moon shines?
It can't continue to be this difficult, right?
I hope the rain stops and the sky clears up.
And those scribes who seemed to understand the poem clenched their fists and wanted to roar.
Dajin will definitely get better!
It will never be like this forever!
At this time, Li Changan's pen and ink fell heavily, and the idea of the poem was instantly elevated infinitely.
The luck on the "Wind" list suddenly exploded.
"There are tens of thousands of mansions in Anhui, which can shelter all the poor people in the world with joy! It is as peaceful as a mountain without being affected by wind or rain. Woohoo! When I suddenly see this house in front of my eyes, it will be enough for my house to be broken down and freeze to death!"
Suddenly, lightning flashed and thunder roared over the capital, and strong winds howled.
But the people below did not feel the wind and rain.
It seems that there really is a "Guangsha" that protects the capital.
The luck on the "Wind" list turned into a dragon, rushing into the dark clouds with boundless wind and rain, roaring crazily.
It seemed as if this dark cloud was to be completely torn into pieces.
Thunderbolts fell down one after another, hitting the dragon heavily.
The dragon was originally transformed by luck, but it seemed to have become a real existence, with scales constantly breaking and flesh and blood splattering.
These broken scales and flesh fell into the capital, turning into pieces of culture and nourishing the people.
It seems as if he is feeding the common people with his own flesh and blood.
A kind of sadness that I had never felt before filled my heart.
At the same time, in the hearts of some scribes, there was a kind of unrestrained passion and fiery hope that burst out from pain and hardship.
Their eyes were like torches, and there seemed to be flames of hope burning all over their bodies.
This flame is hope and even more ideal!
"With tens of thousands of mansions, it will shelter all the poor people in the world and make them happy!"
This Guangsha belongs to Uncle Zhongyong, as well as them!