There were very few poems praising mothers, and since the time was only one hour, many people looked embarrassed.
Many people know that this poetry meeting was used by Li Tai to show his filial piety. They can only support it and certainly cannot overshadow Li Tai's limelight.
But the poems they write must at least be readable, otherwise it will not only be embarrassing, but also make others suspicious.
Compared with the others who were scratching their heads, Cheng Chumo and the others seemed very calm and calm.
Although others were unhappy, they had no excuse to have an attack.
Li Tai saw Cheng Chumo and the others looking a little confused.
Could it be that they came prepared?
For some reason, Li Tai had a bad feeling in his heart.
Li Tai suppressed the feeling in his heart and pretended to think.
Although he came up with the question and everyone knew that he had prepared in advance, he still had to do what he was supposed to do.
As time slowly passed, many people started writing.
"Everyone, I'm not welcome." Cheng Chumo chuckled and started writing.
Except for Qin Huaidao, no one else would want to miss such an opportunity to shine.
Cheng Chutao promised a lot of benefits before grabbing this opportunity.
…
"Your Highness, the time has come." the maid reminded.
Li Tai nodded and said loudly: "Everyone, when the time is up, who is willing to be the first to share his poems?"
Cheng Chumo was very confident in Lin Xuan's poems. Hong Kong was about to stand up, but Qin Huaidao held him down.
A few people may think Lin Xuan's poem is good, but they don't know what is so good about it.
But Qin Huaidao was different. He knew that this was a good poem that could be passed down through the ages.
It's not that he looked down upon the others present, he didn't think anyone present could write a poem better than Lin Xuan's.
If Cheng Chumo was the first to read out the poem, how could anyone else have the nerve to read out their own poems?
In this way, the poetry meeting was disrupted by Cheng Chumo and the others. Not only did they offend everyone present, but they also offended Li Tai to death.
Cheng Chumo looked at Qin Huaidao in confusion.
Qin Huaidao shook his head and said nothing.
"Your Highness, everyone, you have made a fool of yourself." One person stood up, bowed to everyone, and walked to the center of the hall.
"The stars are sparse in the sky, and the moon is half-circled in the sky." After a pause, he continued to read: "When I was a child, I often remembered my mother and repaid my benefactors with kindness and filial piety."
"Good, what a kind and filial person who repays his benefactor, Brother Zhao is a great talent."
"Yes, this poem is a rare masterpiece."
After the man named Zhao finished reading, there was a burst of appreciation.
In fact, this poem can only be described as average, and it is not possible to say how good it is.
It's just that the people participating in the poetry meeting are not very old, and given the time limit, it is not bad to be able to write such a poem.
"It's embarrassing." The man surnamed Zhao bowed his hands and returned to his seat.
Someone took the lead, and then the atmosphere became more lively. Everyone rushed to the stage and read out their own poems, which caused a burst of applause.
If these people can be invited by Li Tai, they still have some talent.
As time passed, except for Cheng Chumo and a few others, only Wang Tao and Li Tai's poems were left unread.
Wang Tao stood up, looked at Cheng Chumo and others mockingly, and came to the field.
“It is difficult to repay the kindness of parents, but the love of children is never lonely.
Thinking in the heart of loving relatives, filial piety is the first thing in the world." Wang Tao said slowly.
"Okay, Brother Wang, this poem will definitely be passed down through the ages."
"A world where filial piety is the first thing. Brother Wang's talent is admirable. We feel ashamed."
Wang Tao smiled and said: "You are so complimentary."
Wang Tao smiled proudly, looked at Cheng Chumo and the others, and said, "Guys, it's your turn. We are all waiting to appreciate your masterpieces."
"Haha, yes, we are all waiting to read your masterpiece."
"Hurry up and show us your masterpieces to appreciate."
Wang Tao's words were echoed by many people.
They originally looked down upon Cheng Chumo and the others.
Last year, Lin Xuan's song "Plum Blossom" made them the laughing stock. This year, Lin Xuan didn't come, so they naturally had to ridicule Cheng Chumo and the others to regain their face.
Cheng Chumo stood up and said with a smile: "Since you want to read it, let you see it."
"Haha, can't he hear that we are laughing at him?"
"It's really funny that someone who doesn't even understand rhyme has the nerve to talk about writing poetry."
As soon as Cheng Chumo finished speaking, there was a burst of ridicule.
They seemed to be discussing with the people around them, but they did not lower their voices at all. Cheng Chumo heard clearly.
Cheng Chumo sneered, you will stop laughing after a while.
Although he doesn't understand poetry, he is not stupid, and he can still distinguish between good and bad poetry.
In his opinion, the poems written by those people were far worse than the one written by Lin Xuan.
"Mother hands line, wandering clothing."
"Departure thick seam, meaning fear of delay in return."
"Whoever speaks of the heart of an inch of grass will be rewarded with three rays of spring."
quiet!
Cheng Chu finished reading the poem silently, and the scene fell silent.
Many people had smiles on their faces, but now they were stunned.
They thought that they had just laughed at Cheng Chumo, and now they realized that the clown was actually them.
They wanted to find fault with the poem, but after thinking about the poem they had written, they finally did not speak out.
If they evaluate this poem as useless, then what does the poem they wrote count?
Wang Tao came to his senses and exclaimed: "Impossible, you definitely didn't write this poem."
He didn't believe that Cheng Chumo could write such a good poem.
Cheng Chumo didn't even understand rhyme, how could he possibly write such a poem that could be passed down through the ages.
Although the poems he wrote before were praised by others for being passed down through the ages, he knew that it was just others praising him.
The poems he wrote may be good, but they are still far from being passed down through the ages.
"Haha, the poems you write are yours. If others write better than you, they are not your own. Wang Tao, you must be too small." Cheng Chumo laughed.
"you…"
Wang Tao noticed the questioning glances around him, his face flushed and he said, "You said you wrote this poem, but do you know the meaning of this poem?"
Wang Tao really wanted to say, your mother died when you were young, how could you have such a secret before leaving?
But he knew that mocking Cheng Chumo was just a conflict between juniors and nothing serious.
But it would be different if he talked about Cheng Chumo's mother.
"Why don't I know the meaning of the poem I wrote? His Royal Highness the King of Wei said that he wanted to write a poem in praise of my mother. I suddenly thought of my mother making clothes for me before I left for Gaochang. I burst into tears of gratitude and felt this way.
I wrote this poem." Cheng Chumo said pretending to be melancholy.
Fortunately, Lin Xuan told him what to say in advance, otherwise he would really not know what to say in this situation.
Weeping with gratitude, speaking out of emotion?
Wang Tao almost vomited blood.
From the beginning to the end, you were chatting and laughing with Yuchi Baolin and the others. It wasn't until the time was almost up that you started writing the poem. Is this also called crying with gratitude?
However, he clearly knew that this poem should have been ghostwritten by someone else, but he could not find any evidence.
Others did not believe that Cheng Chumo could write such a good poem, but the emotions Cheng Chumo described were consistent with the emotions expressed in the poem. They really didn't know how to refute.
Everyone looked at Li Tai with a hint of expectation in their eyes.
The poems written by all of them are not as good as Cheng Chumo's poems. Whether they can regain their place depends on Li Tai's poems.
It's okay to lose to Lin Xuan last year. After all, Lin Xuan has a great reputation, so it's not a shame.
But if people like Cheng Chumo don't even understand rhyme, how can they have the nerve to participate in poetry gatherings in the future?