[035] Visions are all over the sky! A masterpiece through the ages!
"Don't you see it, the water of the Yang River comes up from the sky and rushes to the sea never to return!"
The moment the pen was written and the sentence was completed, the golden light exploded on the paper, and the entire banquet room was illuminated in a flash.
Wow~
A huge torrent pierced the void, carrying unrivaled power and pouring down toward everyone.
“Poetry Vision!!!”
"This is a poetic vision!!!"
In the banquet hall of the Duke's Mansion, everyone stood up suddenly, their faces full of horror.
"What is poetic vision?" Several military officers were confused.
"The vision of poetry is a kind of vision of Confucianism and Taoism."
The Shaoqing of Dali Temple stared at the torrent in the sky outside the door, and explained in shock: "The vision of Confucianism and Taoism requires writing shocking poems and articles, or new Confucianism and Taoism ideas can be triggered..."
"It's just that since ancient times, poetry has been declining. Over thousands of years, there are only a handful of people who can inspire visions with poetry. The last one was five hundred years ago..."
The Minister of Rites looked away from the outside of the room, and looked at Su Ping again with a look of disbelief on his face.
At this time, everyone recovered from the shock of the vision and began to immerse themselves in the poem itself.
"The water of the Yang River comes up from the sky and rushes to the sea never to return..."
The cabinet bachelor, who had always kept a low profile, was full of excitement, and his voice was trembling: "What a Yang River water comes from the sky, what a big spirit, what a big mind!"
"This sentence alone is no weaker than the ancient style of writing!" The Minister of Industry and Industry applauded with his palms clasped.
"Su Ping's poetic talent should be the best in Zhongzhou!"
"..."
All kinds of words of praise were used without hesitation.
Only the Ninth Prince remained silent.
The Ninth Prince looked at Su Ping blankly, his whole body trembling slightly.
Emperor Yongtai had twelve sons.
Some like to listen to music, some like to play chess, some like to walk birds, some like to fight crickets...
He is the only one who has been obsessed with poetry since childhood.
Whenever I read those ancient poems, I often lament that today’s people are not as good as those in the past, and even resolve to revive poetry.
Only after he became an adult did he understand how difficult poetry is.
Take the song "Ode to the Yang River" from the Shangyuan Festival Poetry Club as an example. He had to polish it for half a year before finalizing it.
But now?
What did he see?
Su Ping, a mere country man, wrote down the sentence "The water of the Yang River comes from the sky" with just a cup of tea, which compared with his entire poem "Ode to the Yang River".
How could there be such a poetic talent in the world?
No, absolutely impossible.
This sentence was just Su Ping's epiphany by chance, and what follows will definitely be a big disappointment.
Thinking of this, the Ninth Prince reluctantly calmed down and stared at Su Ping.
The visions of the outside world gradually faded away.
Su Ping seemed not to notice the whole process at all. He took a sip of wine and started writing again.
"Don't you see, the bright mirror in the high hall has sad white hair, and it looks like blue silk in the morning and turns to snow in the evening."
Why……
As soon as the sentence was completed, a sigh came from somewhere and appeared directly in the ears of thousands of creatures in Yangjing.
This sigh combined with the artistic conception of the poem made everyone suddenly feel a sense of twilight.
"The bright mirror in the high hall has sad white hair, and it looks like blue silk in the morning and snow in the evening..."
The cabinet bachelor murmured and repeated, and for a moment he was actually crazy.
He recalled how energetic and passionate he was when he first started working as an official.
However, now, although he has become a first-class official, he no longer has half of the vigor he had back then.
Compromise after compromise, conspiracy after conspiracy, made him cautious and careful.
The lofty ambitions of the past are gone forever.
Looking back again, I suddenly realized.
I have become the 'suffering disease' I was determined to eradicate.
How sad and ridiculous is this?
Not only him, there are many, many people with similar ideas.
The Minister of Punishment recalled that when he was a local official, the plaque hanging on the yamen had the four characters "Qing Zheng Ming" written on it.
There was a slight smile on Ningdehou's lips, as if he had seen the scene of his childhood riding a wooden horse and pretending to be a battlefield with the neighbor's children.
In Wen Chengbo's eyes, there was a touch of delicate beauty...
At this moment, no matter the official rank or title.
Everyone thought of the youthful and best time in this life.
When they woke up from the aftertaste of that sigh, a feeling of reluctance and regret grew in their hearts.
Suddenly, a loud shout broke the heavy atmosphere.
"Here comes the wine!"
It turned out that after writing two lines of poetry, the wine bottle in Su Ping's hand had completely bottomed out and no more drops could be poured out.
"I have it here!"
The Ninth Prince woke up from a dream and hurried a few steps to Su Ping's side, offering the wine flask with both hands.
The dignified Ninth Prince, the favorite son of Emperor Yongtai and a strong contender for the throne, served Su Ping wine and acted as a servant.
Does he hate Su Ping?
Still annoying.
Even more annoying than before.
Because I just concluded that the first sentence was just Su Ping's coincidence, but in the blink of an eye, Su Ping's second sentence came out, not only was it correct, but it even pushed the poem to another artistic conception, triggering another strange phenomenon.
This made him feel aggrieved, unwilling and jealous.
However, as a good poet, he was even more afraid that he would not be able to complete this masterpiece that was comparable to ancient times.
Personal grudges are nothing, and serving wine is nothing.
As long as he can see the completion of this peerless poem with his own eyes.
It's all worth it!
"good!"
Su Ping took the flask and drank it all in one gulp, laughing loudly: "It's great!"
The pen comes down again.
And this time, he also recited it.
"If you are happy in life, you must have all the joy, and don't let the golden cup stand empty against the moon."
"I am born with talents that will be useful, and I will come back after all the money I have spent!"
Su Ping sang loudly, laughed and drank.
Although no vision appears in these two lines of poems, they wipe away the previous meaning of twilight and let people feel free and easy from the bottom of their hearts.
"If you are happy in life, you must have all the joy. Don't let the golden bottle stand empty against the moon?"
As everyone savored these words, their eyes became brighter and brighter, and they couldn't help but look at the wine glasses at hand.
People like the Marquis of Rongyang and the Marquis of Ningguo, who only had titles or were in idle positions, had planned to live out their old lives, but this poem inspired them to become more determined.
Life is only a short period of a hundred years, and life will bring you neither death nor death. If you are happy when you are happy, you should be happy and let the empty wine glass face the moon alone. What a regret it would be?
As for the last sentence...
"I am born with talents that will be useful. I will come back after all my gold is spent. I am born with talents that will be useful. I will come back after all my gold is spent."
Wen Daoyuan repeated this sentence again and again, and suddenly shouted: "Okay! If you are born, my talents will be useful, and I will come back after all the money I have spent! This poem will become an eternal work and leave a legacy for future generations!"
"Undoubtedly a masterpiece for the ages!"
The bachelor of the cabinet nodded affirmatively, full of admiration: "I am born with talents that will be useful, and I will come back after all the money I have spent... How confident and proud a person must be to say such words and write such poems?
"
Although everyone was shocked, they were not surprised. They were only envious and jealous.
To know.
As long as the works of the ages are collected, Confucianism and Taoism will include them. No matter the rise and fall of dynasties, as long as the human race is immortal, they will continue to be passed down.
Su Ping's name will be passed down from generation to generation by the descendants of the human race along with this poem.
Hundreds, thousands, or even ten thousand years.
Wen Daoyuan and Yin Dongqiu looked at each other and laughed happily.
Before Su Ping put pen to paper, no one present believed that he would write any good poems.
Even if it were written, it would definitely be an unsightly and crude work.
Except for the two of them.
A half-saint and a Wuhou.
The Half-Sage ground the ink for Su Ping, and Wu Hou laid out the paper for Su Ping.
And Su Ping did not disappoint them.
This poem deserves their trust.
"Old guy, don't you want to have a drink?"
Wen Doyuan toasted to Yin Dongqiu.
"Drink, of course! Hahaha!"
The two of them drank it all in one go, feeling extremely happy.
And just when they were about to put down their wine glasses, Su Ping wrote a new sentence.
"If you enjoy cooking sheep and slaughtering cattle, you will have to drink three hundred cups."
After writing this sentence, Su Ping turned around, raised the new wine flask in his hand to Wen Daoyuan and Yin Dongqiu, and said with a smile: "Master Wen, Mr. Dongqiu, when you are about to drink, don't stop drinking."
Wen Daoyuan and Yin Dongqiu were stunned for a moment, and then saw Su Ping continuing to write on the paper.
"Master Wen, Lord Dongqiu, I am about to drink wine, but don't stop drinking."
"Sing a song with you, please listen to me."
This is!
Wrote yourself into the poem?!
Although he admired Su Ping's talent, he was even more amazed by Su Ping's poetic talent.
But he never thought that he would be included in it!
That's not an ordinary poem, it's a masterpiece from the ages!
Have you been written into a masterpiece of eternity?!
In an instant, Wen Daoyuan only felt a strange numbness rising from his tailbone, instantly spreading to his limbs, and even the tips of his hair seemed to moan in comfort.
He is a Confucian and Taoist semi-sage, and his status is indeed noble, but he also only has a lifespan of a hundred years.
After thousands of years have passed, I am afraid that traces of him will only be found in thick history books.
But poetry through the ages is different!
The poems are catchy and easy to sing, which means that he will stay famous forever with Su Ping's poems!
"Okay, okay, okay!"
Wen Daoyuan said hello three times, suddenly abandoned the wine glass in his hand, replaced it with a wine flask, and drank from it.
Yin Dongqiu didn't quite understand why Wen Daoyuan was so excited. He only knew that it must be a good thing that he was written into the poem.
Of course, when it comes to drinking, how could he, a strong martial artist, be willing to be compared to Wen Daoyuan?
"drink!"
Yin Dongqiu also changed to a pot and drank it all in one breath.
At this time, the rest of the people in the hall also reacted, with complex expressions on their faces.
First there was intense envy.
Mr. Wen, Mr. Dongqiu, is about to drink wine, but don’t stop drinking.
Although this sentence has no deeper meaning, its significance is enough to make everyone present feel excited.
Fame and wealth.
Profit is easy to come by, but reputation is not easy to come by.
Benefit is in the present, fame is in the future.
In the first half of their lives, they spent their lives chasing profits. After becoming high and powerful, they only wanted fame.
But then they realized that after half a lifetime, they could not write a poem as quickly as others.
How embarrassing is this?
Then, they remembered the scene where Su Ping toasted, and they could not control the emotion of regret.
Think about it.
If I had a drink with Su Ping before...
Does the person who appears in the poem at this time become himself?