Douluo: Why do you need to fight one-on-one when you can fight in groups?

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After the song ended, the mediocre man stood up and bowed. The eyes of the woman holding the piano were also brilliant, but soon dimmed, feeling a little disappointed.

"Qiu Shui, how do you feel about this young master?" the old mother asked with a smile, but her eyes were cold.

The woman holding the piano trembled, lowered her head, as if she was shy, and said in a very soft and trembling voice: "My family, I like you very much. I would like to spend a good night with this young master."

The young man next to the mediocre man smiled proudly, stood up, and walked down the path to the second floor.

And the mediocre man and the woman holding the piano also walked up to the second floor, in full view of everyone.

Next, women came forward one by one.Every talent is on display.

Until the last one, with empty hands and a plain face, the most beautiful and outstanding girl among the women stepped forward.

The atmosphere at the scene became more lively.

This person is the number one in Qinglian Tower and has been famous for a long time.

The old mother said: "I believe that everyone here is already familiar with our Qinglian people. Next, we will stick to the old rules. Bang bang!"

The old mother clapped her hands.

The servants and maids brought nine tables. On each table were placed a pair of snow-white scrolls with extraordinary texture and the Four Treasures of the Study.

Then the slaves withdrew.

The old mother continued: "Dear gentlemen, the test for everyone Qinglian is poetry. Next, our Qinglian people from Qinglian Tower will come up with the topic. Young gentlemen, please write poems. If anyone can write it, please come forward and write it in this scroll. Above, there are only nine places in total, so you gentlemen must work hard.”

Then he looked at Qinglian: "Qinglian, please come up with some questions."

"Okay." Everyone in Qinglian nodded lightly, opened their red lips lightly, and said a few words casually: "Let's chant bamboo."

"The question has been asked, it's bamboo. Then it's up to you gentlemen." The old mother smiled.

Bamboo!

Mu Zige's smile was a bit weird, this question appeared frequently.

While everyone was thinking hard about how to write a poem that would win the heart of a beautiful woman, Mu Zige was leisurely and contented, drinking wine and eating side dishes, as if he didn't care at all.

Then, a man hurriedly walked onto the stage and wrote his own poem on the scroll, but it was just a limerick, the kind that a urchin on the road could write.

Unsurprisingly, he failed.

But this man didn't care, he just came to occupy a spot.

Because he really has no confidence in his talents. If there is a competition of strength, he might show off his skills.

As time passed by, the number of places was reduced one by one, and everyone was sweating more and more on their foreheads, making them very impatient.

But the more impatient I am, the less ideas I have in my head, and my thoughts become chaotic.

"I come."

A handsome young man wiped the sweat from his forehead, smiled, stood up from his seat, and walked forward.

The old mother smiled and said, "Then Mr. Zhao will write this eighth poem."

Mr. Zhao bowed, took up his pen to write a poem, and read a word for each word in the title. When the poem was finished, he finished reading it.

The warm atmosphere was recalled here.

"This poem is very good. It is much better than the previous ones. It describes the characteristics of bamboo very well. It is worthy of being the Little Poet King of Tiandou." This is a bit learned.

"This poem is good, really good, extremely good." This is uneducated.

"Young Master is amazing, Young Master is super awesome, super super awesome." This is flattering.

But Mu Zige also applauded. The most outstanding thing about this poem is the gorgeous rhetoric.

He can't do it and won't do it.

However, because the soul master is respected in the mainland, poetry has not developed well and cannot compare with previous generations and ancient dynasties.

Muzige can also stand on the shoulders of giants and be cool for a while.

Mr. Zhao heard the compliments in his ears and looked at the woman with a proud expression, but he didn't see anything in her eyes, her face remained expressionless.

Suddenly my heart went cold and I knew I had no hope.

Sure enough, the woman said softly: "Compared with the previous ones, this poem is good, but it is not a good poem. Sorry."

The meaning is obvious.

The old mother smiled without any surprise and reached down politely: "Master, please."

Mr. Zhao's face was livid. He looked at the woman and slapped the case directly. His martial soul was released, and the three soul rings were quite conspicuous: "You know shit about poetry. Why don't such magnificent poems catch your eye? Is it because of fame and reputation?"

Mr. Zhao is very confident about this poem of his. Even he, who is known as the Little Poet King, only has one or two poems of the same level as this one.

After this bamboo chant, it may become one of his famous works.

In the end, he was not noticed. How could Mr. Zhao not be angry, especially since the beautiful woman in front of him claimed to be very good at poetry, but she had never had any poetry circulated.

The woman was not humble and said nothing, she just said: "Please!"

Mr. Zhao's expression changed. Finally, he thought of the background of Qinglian House, and turned around reluctantly, only to see an ordinary-looking young man walking up, wearing simple clothes.

It's Mu Zige.

Mu Zige said: "I am in Zhangshan, so I will show off my ugliness in the ninth poem."

The old mother smiled: "Sir, please."

But Mr. Zhao, who had just been angry, saw Mu Zige, looked at her carefully, and said harshly: "That guy from there, get down quickly. Even the little Poet King of Heaven Dou failed to marry Miss Qinglian." Eyes, how can you compare to me?"

Mu Zige smiled, ignored Mr. Zhao, and picked up a pen to write a poem on the last scroll.

When Mu Zige finished writing, the woman looked at it with a shocked face and brilliant eyes. She looked at the poem written by Mu Zige on the scroll without blinking.

"Stay firm on the green hills and not let go, the roots are originally in the broken rocks. Thousands of blows are still strong, let the east, west, north, south wind wind."

It is the poem "Bamboo and Stone" by Zheng Xie, a poet from the previous Qing Dynasty.

Mr. Zhao just took one look, turned pale, remained silent, and wanted to turn around and leave.

But Mu Zige walked up to the scroll he had written. Mr. Zhao couldn't help but pause in his steps. The woman Qing Lian also looked away from "Bamboo and Stone" and looked at Mu Zige, the brilliance in her eyes was visible.

Mu Zige picked up the pen again.

This poem by Mr. Zhao occupies most of the center of the scroll on the eighth table, while Mu Zige wrote another poem in a smaller position on the side, still about bamboos, and it was written by Su Shi.

"It is better to eat without meat than to live without bamboo. Without meat, one will be thin, and without bamboo, one will be vulgar. People can still be fat if they are thin, but they cannot be cured if they are vulgar. Others laugh at this saying, as if they are too high-minded and stupid. If you still think about this, Chew big, there are Yangzhou cranes in the world."

Anyone with a discerning eye can see that there are many poems in this poem that strengthen Zhao Gongzi, just like the gap between a titled Douluo in the soul master realm and a soul warrior.

The poems that are clearly attributed to Zhang Shan but are actually attributed to Su Shi are naturally the "titled Douluo", and the poems of Mr. Zhao are the "soul warrior".

However, Zhang Shan's poem only occupies a smaller position in the book, while Zhao Gongzi's large poem about bamboos occupies the majority, which can be said to be a slap in the face.

The most important thing is that the meaning of this poem is irony. It is ironic that there are people present, but the one who is slapped in the face the most painfully is Mr. Zhao.

When everyone looked around, they saw that Mr. Zhao's expression was even uglier.

Mu Zige smiled and looked at the scrolls on the other tables, still feeling a little regretful.

After so many years, even though he liked bamboo chanting poems very much in his previous life, there are very few bamboo chanting poems that he can remember. Otherwise, he would have to write one in every scroll.

The woman's expression finally stopped being cold, and she looked at Mu Zige excitedly: "Master, can you give me these two sets of calligraphy treasures as a gift?"

The old mother's expression changed.

This woman is not an ordinary housekeeper. If she really wants to bring Mu Zige into the room, I'm afraid the adults will be angry.

"Okay. Just two poems." Mu Zige smiled and nodded.

The woman nodded excitedly and carefully put away the two volumes. But when she put away the second one, she looked at the poem written by Mr. Zhao and felt that it was just a piece of dog shit among the flowers. It was very disgusting.

I decided in my heart to cut out the part of the poem later.

Later, under the shocked eyes of the old mother, the woman invited Mu Zige to the private room on the third floor for free, saying that she would treat the two pairs of calligraphy treasures as a return gift.

The old mother watched helplessly as Mu Zige followed the woman upstairs. She was very flustered, but she couldn't refute, so she could only worry.