Zhang Xingyang walked forward slowly and almost immediately attracted everyone's attention. Especially after knowing Zhang Xingyang's Jieyuan identity, their attitudes towards Zhang Xingyang became even more different.
It seems that Zhang Xingyang is also well-known in Lin'an, and his behavior is very calm and peaceful. This demeanor has also become a halo, attracting others unconsciously.
Zhang Xingyang immediately walked to the desk and bowed his hands respectfully towards Magistrate Na Wen.
Wen Chengyong, who had been sitting and watching the talented people writing poems and essays, stood up at this moment and returned the same greeting with a little smile on his face.
"Zhang Jieyuan, your grace at the Luming Banquet that year is still vivid in my mind."
Wen Chengyong looked at the other party with a smile, and the way his eyes turned on Zhang Xingyang's body at this moment was a bit appreciative.
Zhang Xingyang was not surprised at all. At this moment, he held his hands upright and said in a deep voice.
"It's a complete surprise that Wansheng can leave some kind of impression on the adults, but today he is also doing his best in front of the adults."
Wen Chengyong smiled and said nothing. Zhang Xingyang had already taken an ink pen beside him, then spread out a piece of white paper and dipped in ink to write.
This movement seems to be done smoothly and smoothly. I guess I have already planned it and I am confident about it.
As Zhang Xingyang started writing, everyone else in the room also looked at the white paper on the table. Someone stepped forward and gently read out what Zhang Xingyang had written.
"Hey, it seems to be a poem?"
"It's somewhat similar, and the description seems to be of the grand scene in the city today."
"This angle is a bit strange. When I read it, I just feel that the beautiful scenery of Jiangnan is vivid on the page. Zhang Jieyuan is indeed very capable!"
Several talented people around him were carefully savoring what Zhang Xingyang had written. They all had a bit of surprise on their faces, and they were full of praise.
After all, it is very wonderful that such a recognized talented person can write such a beautiful chapter here at this moment. What's more, it feels like this is what Zhang Xingyang should write.
Even the people next to Song Mu were all looking over there at the moment. Dai Mingliang also had a stern look on his face, and his eyes kept wandering around Zhang Xingyang and Song Mu, as if he felt that Zhang Xingyang would be Song Mu's strong enemy.
Song Mu listened to what the other party had written and sighed slightly, agreeing with Zhang Xingyang's excellent work.
There are endless articles and poems in this world, and there are many people in this world, but talented people can still write wonderful poems.
Song Mu felt that he could be better than others this time.
The reason why I never stepped forward to write poems immediately was because I was afraid that it would be self-defeating in the end and the victory I had won in vain would be lost.
At this moment, Zhang Xingyang had already finished writing the poem. When he finished writing the "Lin'an Fu", he saw the rich talent spurting out from the paper, making everyone exclaim in the next moment.
His gushing talent can even be seen clearly by people outside the attic.
At this moment, Zhang Xingyang stood in the whirlpool of literary energy, like the most shining star in this scene, with a gentle smile on his face.
Wen Chengyong next to him was also slightly startled at this moment. He stepped forward and studied the other person's poems carefully.
After a while, Wen Chengyong also nodded and said softly.
"There are many talents. Well, Zhang Jieyuan is really talented in literature."
With such a final word, the atmosphere around him suddenly became heated, and they all started to praise him.
And then the golden gong was struck, and the clear sound spread all around, causing countless people to look up. The person who was reciting the poem also had a bit of surprise on his face at this moment, and said loudly:
.
"Zhang Xingyang, the leader of Jiangnan East Road, wrote a poem for the Wenhui..."
At that moment, the contents of the short poem were recited one by one, and the craftsman had already written the poem on the most conspicuous place on the hanging red cloth of the pavilion.
A poem with six talents, it has almost sealed the championship of this literary competition.
In previous literary conferences, Six Talents almost topped the entire literary conference, and this arrangement is no exaggeration.
Your Excellency, the people who heard the contents of the fu also cheered and applauded. Especially when the fu was read, although there were many gorgeous words, they could vaguely discern the scene of today's grand event, which greatly impressed them.
Shocking.
The people's continuous cheers came from downstairs, and many students in the pavilion also rushed towards Zhang Xingyang, and now they all held hands to congratulate him.
Lu Guanglin, who had just written the poem "Five Fights of Talents", looked a little frustrated at the moment. He wanted to pick up the pen to compete again, but after carefully savoring the poem written by the other party, he finally sighed and put down the pen in his hand.
.
"This is beyond the capabilities of students who have passed the provincial examination. It can already shock the national examination. I can't do it."
Lu Guanglin's face was filled with emotion. At this moment, Zhang Xingyang also bowed his hands to the surrounding people and the people watching downstairs. Then he sat back in his seat, still chatting and laughing, without any change in his expression, as if the movement just now was not caused by him.
.
The first place in this literary club was almost decided without any suspense at this moment, but this still did not prevent others from being jealous. Even the excitement downstairs suddenly aroused everyone's ambitions, and they all felt that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
If you can write good poems and beat Jieyuan, you will have a good reputation in the future.
Some people were eager to give it a try, while others were scratching their heads and ears. Under the influence of Zhang Xingyang, the people at Song Mu's table could no longer sit still. Everyone at the table was also very interested in poetry and wanted to rack their brains to write good poems.
However, Shu Fang, who was the first to come forward, returned now feeling somewhat proud.
He also wrote a poem about the three battles of talent. Although it is not as good as other people's articles about Jieyuan, it is of a certain standard and is enough to defend his talent in elevating people.
At this moment, he walked back and saw Song Mu still sitting there drinking tea, so he asked with a smile.
"Brother Song, what's wrong? You haven't thought about it yet?"
Shu Fang asked with a smile. Song Mu glanced at him and just nodded slightly.
Of course, Song Mu already had poems in mind, but now he still wanted to wait and see if there would be such a powerful talent, and then whether his poems could surpass the opponent's poems.
This excitement lasted for a long time, until it was almost midnight in the afternoon, when the sun was setting in the west, the excitement in the attic slowly dissipated, and all the students were sitting at separate tables, talking to each other.
But at this moment, it is even more lively under the Tai Pavilion. The city gate is closed later today, and the people still have a lot of time to visit the city, and lanterns have been hung on various stalls under the Tai Pavilion.
It looks colorful at the moment, and when night falls and the lanterns come on, it will surely be another spectacular scene.
A ray of sunset slanted into the Guanlantai Pavilion. At this moment, all the students inside were somewhat unmotivated. Magistrate Wen was still there, but he was sitting with a few wealthy businessmen, listening to music.
We were chatting about something, thinking it was just for fun.
From time to time, people would come to write on the desk, and occasionally they would write poems with talent, but it was difficult to attract the attention that the students had previously stirred.
Song Mu drank the last bit of tea and got up to do some activities. Shu Fang, who was sitting next to him, looked at Song Mu. Seeing that Song Mu was about to go out, he also asked with a smile.
"Brother Song, are you going to pay tribute again?"
Song Mu did not reply, but carefully arranged his clothes before shaking his head and saying.
"That's pretty much what I'm thinking, but this time I'm showing off my shame."
Shu Fang stood up immediately after hearing this, with a bit of astonishment on his face. Dai Mingliang, who heard this next to him, also cheered up again at this moment, with a bit of excitement on his face, and he also stood up.
.
Several people at the same table looked over, with some different looks in their eyes, but most of them thought that Song Mu was just going through the motions, and maybe he could indeed write such a good poem.
The talented people at other tables also noticed Song Mu, a tall young man, but they only paid a little attention to him, and then they all chatted about their own things.
Song Mu came to the desk, carefully cleaned some of the desk, then used warm water to grind the ink again, spread out the white paper, dipped the brush in ink, took a deep breath, and started writing.
"The southeast is beautiful, the three Wu cities are beautiful, and Qiantang has been prosperous since ancient times."
"Smoke willow painted bridges, wind curtains and green curtains, hundreds of thousands of homes..."