Start practicing from marrying a disfigured princess

Chapter 111 The Poetry Leader Ren Pingsheng

The voice fell.

Everyone looked at Ren Pingsheng with expectant eyes.

They are warriors and nobles. Although they did not take the imperial examination, they have been studying since childhood, so they naturally understand poetry and songs.

I understand in my heart.

If today's banquet can produce a masterpiece that can be passed down through the ages like the difficulty of traveling.

These people can be regarded as a piece of light.

As long as people in later generations think of the poems, they will remember that there were a group of martial arts disciples who gave up the easy life of the capital and invited Yingying to go south to fight with the monster clan.

It's exciting just thinking about it.

Upon hearing this, King Jin also looked at Ren Pingsheng with no expression on his face.

in his eyes.

That difficult journey may not have been made by Ren Pingsheng.

After all, Ren Pingsheng has already reached the crown, and he has never heard of him writing poetry in the past 20 years, and such a masterpiece suddenly appeared, it is hard to say that he did not buy it.

It is not uncommon for the powerful to buy poems from scholars and sign their own names.

It is not impossible for Zhenbei Wangfu to overshadow the sky in the northern region, buy excellent poems, and put gold on his face.

The second floor.

Xu Ruxian, the censor of Zuodu, raised his eyebrows when he heard the words, looked at Cheng Jijiu, and said with a smile, "Today, you and I may witness the birth of another masterpiece handed down from generation to generation."

What Cheng Jijiu thought in his heart was that Ren Pingsheng's words had ruined his students, and he was slightly dissatisfied with him, and said lightly: "There are many poems and poems in your life, and only one or two can be handed down, and there is a song that can travel. Difficult, it is not easy, how can you make a second song casually like you said."

Xu Ruxian raised his eyebrows: "Why don't you make a bet?"

"What are you gambling?"

"If he can make a masterpiece today, you can give me one or two of the best clouds and mists in your collection."

Jipin Yunwu is the name of the tea, which contains spiritual energy and can calm the mind. It is extremely precious, and the annual output is less than one or two.

Even the great Confucian scholar Cheng Jijiu only had two or three taels in hand, and he was reluctant to drink it at all on weekdays.

Cheng Jijiu said, "What if he can't do it?"

Xu Ruxian said seriously: "I'll treat you to three drinks, and you decide the place."

Hearing this, Cheng Jijiu was a little surprised.

You know, Xu Ruxian is a well-known iron rooster. He has been an official for 20 years and has never invited anyone to have a drink or a meal. The money saved, except for daily life, is all given to the poor.

It was unprecedented that he was willing to invite wine.

However, it can be seen from this that the bet he just made was not a joke, but a real plan to gamble.

"What I just said is a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation." Cheng Jijiu reminded.

"It's a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation."

At this moment, Cheng Jijiu really couldn't understand: "Why are you so sure that he can make a masterpiece?"

Xu Ruxian stroked his beard and showed a mysterious smile: "Intuition... If you have no idea, then don't gamble."

Hearing this, Cheng Jijiu looked thoughtful.

He still didn't believe that Ren Pingsheng could create two poems handed down from generation to generation in just half a year.

If you win, you can see the iron cock plucking its hair.

If you lose, it's nothing more than one or two of the best cloud and mist. If you drink more than one or two of the cloud and mist, you won't be able to break through to the second rank, so just give it to him.

Thinking of this.

Cheng Jijiu nodded: "Okay, as you said."

Xu Ruxian's eyes lit up, as if he was afraid that he would go back on his word, he said, "A word from a gentleman..."

Before he finished speaking, Cheng Jijiu continued, "It's hard to chase a four-horse."

The bet is reached.

Xu Ruxian stroked his beard and laughed, looking like he was sure of winning.

When Cheng Jijiu saw this scene, he immediately realized that something was wrong: "You can always tell me now, why are you so sure that the prince of Zhenbei can make a masterpiece today?"

Xu Ruxian said: "Do you remember the poem I told you last time?"

Cheng Jijiu thought for a while, and asked, "You're talking about... Suddenly looking back, that person is in a dimly lit place?"

"Exactly."

Xu Ruxian raised his eyebrows, and his slightly rough old face was full of smiles: "That poem was written by Ren Pingsheng, and dancing is his nickname."

"This……"

Cheng Jijiu was dumbfounded when he heard this.

Some time ago, in his spare time, he even talked about this poem with the students of Guozijian.

Whether it is himself or the students of Guozijian, the evaluation of this poem is extremely high, and they all agree that this poem will be passed down through the ages.

At that time, I still wondered why I had never heard of Qiwu before, but it turned out to be Ren Pingsheng's nickname.

"Ren Ping is proficient in poetry all his life, and he has lived at the border for a long time, guarding the country gate for my Great Zhou. Today, he bid farewell to the king and grandson who went south to fight. It fits his state of mind, and nine out of ten can make a good work."

On the side, Xu Ruxian seemed to have won the bet, with a smile on his face.

Cheng Jijiu also agreed with him in his heart.

After all, Ren Pingsheng was able to make the Difficult to Journey and Qingyu case in just two or three months, which shows that he is extremely talented in poetry.

Just relying on this poem, a word, it is not an exaggeration to call it a poem.

It is not difficult to make a good song.

But...a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation may not be able to be produced.

If he can really do it, it means that there will be another peerless talent in Dazhou.

In this way, what's the point of losing a bet?
With this in mind, Cheng Jijiu fell silent, quietly waiting for Ren Pingsheng to write a poem.

…………

first floor.

All eyes were on Ren Pingsheng.

Ren Pingsheng thought for a while and waved his hand:
"Paper and pen!"

"Okay! Go get a pen and paper!"

Seeing that he agreed, the crowd cheered enthusiastically.

Just for a moment.

The shopkeeper brought a pen and paper and placed it in front of Ren Pingsheng.

Ren Pingsheng dipped his pen in the ink and began to write.

Less than half a stick of incense.

pen to paper.

Poetry.

Lili on the grass, one year and one withered.

Wild fire, in spring.

Yuanfang invades the ancient road, and Qingcui connects to the deserted city.

Send Wang and Sun again, full of affection.

aside.

Chen Zhiming read it out loud.

finished.

The lobby fell silent.

Everyone is savoring this poem carefully.

Soon, someone analyzed it.

In the first four sentences, Shizi is using the inexhaustible wildfire as a metaphor for the soldiers of my great Zhou who fought bravely against the enemy.

The last four sentences use the scenery of the ancient road and deserted city in the south to express the feeling of parting with them, the princes and grandchildren.

It is indeed a good work among the farewell poems, but... I always feel that it is not meaningful.

Everyone thought so in their hearts, but they didn't say so, they just praised with a smile.

"Your Majesty is very talented!"

side table.

King Jin savored the poem carefully, and shook his head lightly: "This poem is indeed good, but it doesn't match the atmosphere of today's banquet. After all, it's almost meaningless."

The second floor.

The two great Confucians felt exactly the same about this poem as King Jin did.

This poem is singled out as a farewell poem. It can be said that no one has been able to compare with it in the past ten years, but it is not good enough for today's banquet.

This poem has the inexhaustible tenacity of Zhou people and the affection of parting with friends, but it does not have the heroic momentum of going south to fight and kill the enemy.

in short.

It is a masterpiece, but it is not a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation.

At least, Cheng Jijiu thought so.

He looked at Xu Ruxian, with a gentle smile on his face: "Brother Gangfeng, do you think this poem can be called a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation?"

Xu Ruxian fell silent when he heard the words.

In his eyes, if this poem spreads, it will definitely be passed on to future generations.

But... Compared with the difficulty of traveling, it is still a bit worse.

It's not impossible to insist that it is a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation, but it seems that he can't afford to lose.

For a moment, he didn't know how to answer.

After struggling for a long time, I sighed in my heart, and said leisurely: "This poem is a bit different from what I thought in my heart, so..."

I wanted to say that I lost this bet.

Before he could speak, he heard the voice of reading poetry again from downstairs.

"The beacon fire shines on the capital, and I feel uneasy in my heart.

Yazhang resigned from Fengque and rode around Dragon City.

The sky is dark and the flag paintings are withered, and the wind is mixed with the sound of drums.

It is better to be a centurion than a scholar. "

The voice fell.

Xu Ruxian and Cheng Jijiu were all stunned in place.

"Is he still writing poetry?"

Hear the content of the poem.

Xu Ruxian couldn't help cheering up, and actually repeated it unconsciously.

"The beacon fire shines on the capital, and I feel uneasy in my heart.

Yazhang resigned from Fengque and rode around Dragon City.

The sky is dark and the flag paintings are withered, and the wind is mixed with the sound of drums.

Better to be a centurion than a scholar... Good poem!
Vigorous and vigorous, impassioned, in just a few sentences, it describes my great Zhou Erlang's lofty aspirations to abandon comfort and defend the country from the army. It is really a rare masterpiece! "

aside.

Cheng Jijiu also showed admiration on his face: "Compared to the poem just now, this poem is more in line with the atmosphere of their banquet today. It is powerful and majestic. It reads with an indomitable momentum, which is very good."

at the same time.

first floor.

The disciples of Wu Xun who were slightly disappointed before heard this poem, and all of them cheered up.

"The beacon fire shines on the capital, and I feel uneasy in my heart.

Yazhang resigned from the Phoenix Tower, and the iron cavalry circled the Dragon City... Isn't this what we are waiting for? "

"This poem is better, it's so majestic, it makes people want to take a knife and go to the southern border to kill monsters!"

Everyone was discussing and their faces were rosy. It was unknown whether it was because they drank too much wine or were infected by the atmosphere. Their hearts were surging and their blood was surging.

Just now.

Chen Zhiming's voice sounded again. In order to suppress the noisy noise, he recited poetry at the top of his throat.

"Dark clouds overwhelm the city, wanting to destroy it, and the light of armor opens to the sun's golden scales.

The sound of horns fills the sky with autumn colors, stuffed with Yanzhi and condensed night purple.

The half-rolled red flag is approaching Yishui, and the frost is heavy and the sound of cold is not heard.

Report to the king on the gold platform, and support the jade dragon to die for the king. "

The voice fell.

The entire Zuihua Pavilion fell into silence.

A few seconds later, more heated discussions erupted.

The second floor.

Before the two great scholars had time to analyze the third poem, the familiar voice sounded again.

"The iron clothes are broken on the battlefield of hundreds of battles, and the south of the city has been encircled.

Shoot and kill the monster generals in the camp, and lead the remnant soldiers back with thousands of horses. "

The voice fell.

Zuihua Pavilion fell into silence again.

Even if you don't appreciate the content of this poem, just recite it once, you can feel the majestic momentum and soaring arrogance!

Just a stick of incense time.

The crown prince actually wrote four poems in a row, each of which was so heroic that it made one's blood boil.

Such a literary talent, how can he look like a martial artist?
Even the most talented scholar in the capital may not be able to compare with Shizi.

Do not!
It would be too much to bully those scholars who studied the sage's books with the prince.

After all, many scholars are not good at poetry.

It should be said that all the masters of poetry in Dazhou may not be able to compare with Shizi together.

The second floor.

The two great Confucian scholars were also overwhelmed by this succession of masterpieces.

Compared with Wu Xun downstairs.

They will soon be able to understand the deep meaning of the four poems, and they are very clear in their hearts that any of these four poems can be called the best frontier poems in recent years.

If it is recited by Confucian scholars, with the blessing of rhetoric and sword, it will be a powerful poem to kill the enemy!

The poems written by Prince Zhenbei are no longer just masterpieces, but they can actually improve the combat ability of Confucian scholars.

It's really...unbelievable that a martial artist can compose a majestic poem about killing an enemy!
Time passed minute by minute.

In the Drunken Flower Pavilion, no one made a sound.

All eyes were on Ren Pingsheng.

He... is still writing poetry!
On the second floor, although the two great Confucian scholars could not see the picture of Ren Pingsheng writing a poem, but when they heard the sound of writing the pen, they knew that Ren Pingsheng was not over yet. While they were shocked, they had already begun to look forward to it.

These four poems are already excellent works, what kind of poems can he make.

After a while.

Chen Zhiming's suppressed excitement and excitement sounded again.

"The luminous cup of wine and grapes, if you want to drink the pipa, please remind me immediately.

Lord Grim drunk lying on the battlefield, how many people have fought in ancient times. "

The voice fell.

Everyone seemed to be on the battlefield, their bodies trembling slightly from excitement and excitement.

at the same time.

Ren Pingsheng hadn't put down the pen in his hand, and swiped wantonly.

"Dawn fights with the golden drum, night sleeps with the jade saddle..."

"The forest is dark and the grass is frightened by the wind, the general draws his bow at night..."

"Ten miles a horse, five miles a whip..."

"When you draw a bow, you should be strong, and when you use an arrow, you should be long..."

"Climbing the mountain to watch the beacon fire during the day, drinking horses and crossing the river at dusk..."

"When the boy was fifteen or twenty, he won the horse monster on foot..."

"The geese fly low in the evening rain in the border town, and the asparagus is getting ready..."

"Young knight-errant from the capital, go to the garrison building at night to watch Taibai..."

"..."

"Looking at the sword with the light on while drunk, dreaming of returning to the company of blowing horns..."

"Lying in the middle of the night listening to the wind and rain, the Iron Horse and Glacier falling into a dream..."

The Drunken Flower Pavilion was extremely silent.

Apart from the sound of splattering pen and ink, there was only Chen Zhiming's slightly hoarse voice.

"To actually write dozens of excellent works in a row, and the content is to defend the frontier and kill the enemy. This kind of poetic talent... is really unseen and unheard of!"

The two great Confucian scholars could no longer restrain the shock and excitement in their hearts as they listened.

They looked at each other and left their seats in unison.

Can't wait to come behind Ren Pingsheng, use his ability to hide himself, and quietly watch him compose poems.

Time passed minute by minute.

I do not know how long it has been.

Ren Pingsheng finally put down his pen, let out a long breath, looked around, and said calmly, "I would like to bid farewell to you with poetry."

As soon as this word comes out.

The disciple of Xungui, who was about to go south, had a bright light in his eyes, and his body trembled slightly because of the excitement.

He opened his mouth to say something, but found that his throat was dry and he couldn't make a sound.

The reason for this is because they understand it in their hearts.

What happened today will not be long before it will be spread all over the world and will last forever.

And their names will also be recorded because of the son's actions today, and will be passed down to future generations.

The fame that countless people have spent their entire lives pursuing, they have obtained it so easily.

For a moment, I didn't know what to say.

Just now.

Chen Zhiming at the side finally came to his senses, stood upright, saluted respectfully, and said in a hoarse voice, "Thank you, my lord!"

Seeing this scene, the rest of the honorable disciples who were about to go south also reacted. They imitated the example, saluted respectfully, and said sincerely: "I'll wait... Thank you, my lord!"

Less than [-]% of those who attended the banquet today planned to go south.

Those [-]% of Wu Xun's disciples who planned to stay in the capital saw this scene with envious expressions on their faces.

I envy them that they can get the son's farewell poem, and I also envy them that they can go south to kill demons.

Ren Pingsheng's poems just now have fully inspired the blood in their bones.

It is no exaggeration to say that at this moment, there is nothing else in their minds, only the heroic and magnificent frontier fortress gates, and the majestic momentum of fighting the enemy bravely.

I don't know who shouted: "After today, I will invite the holy majesty to go south with the lords, and I will never return it until I break the green mountains!"

Qingluan is a mountain range in southern Xinjiang, which is rich in aura, so it is occupied by the four great monster clans.

Breaking through Qingluan is equivalent to defeating the Yaozu.

Followed by.

Someone yelled: "I want to go south to kill monsters too! As the prince said, ambition eats tiger and wolf meat hungry, and laughs and thirsts to drink jackal and fox blood!"

So ever.

Everyone responded one after another and asked Ying to go south.

The heroic momentum and magnificent atmosphere made the eyes of the princes shine, their blood surged up, and they shouted together: "Aspirations eat tiger and wolf meat hungry, laugh and talk thirsty and drink jackal and fox blood!"

aside.

When King Jin saw this scene, the corners of his eyes twitched.

Depressed to the extreme.

I wanted to use this banquet to buy people's hearts, but who would have thought that such a result would end up like this.

If today's events spread, Ren Pingsheng will surely become famous all over the world, but he, the majestic Three Worthy Kings, is just a foil and has no sense of existence from the beginning to the end.

Like a joke no one cares about.

Thinking of this.

His face became more and more gloomy, he picked up the wine glass and drank the dull wine.

the other side.

After everyone expressed their feelings, they began to exchange glasses and lined up to toast Ren Pingsheng.

With that look, it seemed that it was a great honor to have a glass of wine with him.

What they didn't notice was.

Not far behind Ren Pingsheng.

The only two great Confucian scholars in the capital, the powerhouses of the Transcendent Realm, were looking at Ren Pingsheng's back, talking through sound transmission.

"With such talent, he can be called the leader of poetry in the world."

Cheng Jijiu sighed.

aside.

Xu Ruxian looked thoughtful, and suddenly said after a while: "If he reads books, he can achieve great achievements just by relying on poetry, and it is not impossible to step into the extraordinary.

What's more, just because he only showed talent in poetry doesn't mean he's only good at poetry, maybe he also has talent in writing, even... Four Books and Five Classics may not be without opinions. "

The voice fell.

Cheng Jijiu's heart skipped a beat, and a gleam burst out of his eyes: "You are right, if he changes to Confucianism and Taoism, and studies hard, he may not be able to step into the extraordinary by virtue of poetry!"

Speaking of this, he made a decisive decision: "I will take him as a disciple and teach him the way of sages."

aside.

Xu Ruxian glanced at him, and said lightly: "Don't forget how the Holy Majesty targeted the King of Zhenbei 20 years ago, and how the King of Zhenbei slaughtered the officials in the northern border. Regardless of whether he is willing to change to Confucianism or Taoism, he will be Said that if you accept him as an apprentice, what will the officials who have blood feud with King Zhenbei think of you?"

Hearing this, Cheng Jijiu's face showed a tangled look. After a while, he sighed Youyou, and said helplessly: "Now it seems that the decision of the Holy Majesty...is indeed unfair."

For so many years.

It was the first time for Xu Ruxian to hear Cheng Jijiu's evaluation of the incident 20 years ago, and there was a touch of surprise in his eyes.

This guy actually blamed His Majesty for not being able to accept him as a disciple for his whole life.

It seems that he really believes that Ren Ping can step into the extraordinary if he worships him all his life.

It's a pity...Because of the estrangement 20 years ago, it was almost impossible for Ren Pingsheng, the son of Zhenbei Prince, to change to Confucianism and Taoism.

Thinking of this.

Xu Ruxian couldn't help but sighed in his heart and fell into silence.

After a while, he suddenly remembered something, looked at Cheng Jijiu, and raised his eyebrows: "Does the bet between you and me still count?"

Unable to accept Pingsheng as his disciple, Cheng Jijiu was in a bad mood, and his tone was low: "One or two of the best clouds and mists will be delivered tomorrow."

Hearing this, Xu Ruxian stroked his beard, smiled all over his face, and wanted to say something.

Before he could speak, he suddenly realized that Ren Pingsheng, who was not far away, turned his head to look in his direction, with some doubts in his eyes.

"Could it be...he noticed my existence?

How could it be possible for a small seventh-rank martial artist. "

Xu Ruxian was surprised, and turned to look at Cheng Jijiu beside him: "Did he notice us just now?"

Cheng Jijiu said, "Maybe it's just a coincidence."

It's true, for a seventh-rank martial artist, the Yuanshen is already weak, so how could it be possible to do this.

Thinking of this, Xu Ruxian withdrew his gaze and said, "Don't worry about accepting apprentices. Go back and drink. The feast of eight monsters at that table should not be wasted."

Hearing the words, Cheng Jijiu sighed in his heart, stopped thinking about it, and nodded slightly.

"it is good."

…………

"Strange, why does it always feel like someone is standing behind me? Is it just an illusion?"

Ren Pingsheng withdrew his gaze and frowned slightly.

Just now.

Someone came up to toast again.

Ren Pingsheng hesitated for a moment, stopped thinking about it, and raised his glass to return to the wine.

time flies.

An hour or two passed in the blink of an eye.

Including Ren Pingsheng, everyone was already drunk.

The banquet is over here.

With the support of several people.

Ren Pingsheng walked out of the Zuihua Pavilion.

"We, let's send the son back to the mansion." Chen Zhiming himself was almost confused, and he was still directing others.

Ren Pingsheng was supported by two people, looked confused, but his actual consciousness was still clear, he was about to refuse, when he heard a strange yet familiar voice not far away.

"Your Highness."

Just two words.

Let Ren Pingsheng's spirits be lifted, most of the wine sobered up in an instant.

"This is... the voice of that scar-faced Mu Mansion?!"

Ren Pingsheng was shocked, but there was no expression on his face, he still looked drunk and squinted.

Not far away, a guard with a knife in a black robe and a mask was bowing his hands to King Jin.

The body shape is exactly the same as the scar face in memory!
"He is from Prince Jin's Mansion."

Ren Pingsheng's eyes were fixed, and he remembered this matter in his heart.

at the same time.

A familiar voice came to my ears.

"My lord, my servant is here to pick you up."

Turn around and look.

It was Little Green Tea Jiang Chuyue who spoke.

(End of this chapter)