Transfer Fubao four and a half years old

Is she not good at drawing? She has already mastered the art of drawing, but she just doesn't care about being chosen or noticed by others.

Chuchu's painting actually won third place, and Jiao Zhongjue successfully attracted the hatred of the noble ladies for her.

Even though my mother, sister and I were walking quite far away, we could still clearly feel the murderous gazes coming towards us.

Compared to the three older brothers who were confident, calm, and could write poems freely, the Seventeenth Prince was much inferior. No wonder he, as a prince, was ranked after Prince Jue. He thought it was natural and would not refute it.

Seeing the Seventeenth Prince going back and forth and walking around all the drawing boards twice, the ladies all deducted points from his impression of him in their minds. They naturally felt that he deserved the title of the capital's playboy, and naturally equated him with being unlearned.

Concubine Dowager De couldn't bear to watch it anymore. It was such a shame for the royal family to have such a descendant. She led most of the ladies back to sit in the flower corridor.

He even whispered a few unpleasant words: "This Seventeenth Prince is the most unreliable. Does he not know how to appreciate paintings or write poems? He wants people to run around him in circles, and he even wants to play tricks on us elders."

These words did not at all defend the royal status of the Seventeenth Prince, but no one dared to say anything. After all, if it were one of their own young masters, they would definitely feel ashamed, so they all laughed and followed suit.

In the end, the Seventeenth Prince had no choice. His brothers had set an example for him, and he couldn't let Young Master Jiang wait so long. He had to write the poem anyway, otherwise it would be a joke.

Turning back, he saw Jiang Hua still following, but she was lagging behind the group of noble ladies, and she didn't know how to come up and give him some advice.

So he stared at her, and wouldn't let go of her eyes: "Jiang Hua, which one did you draw? Tell me quickly."

Jiang Hua was startled and didn't know what he was going to do. In fact, she had been following him only because she was the head of the family and was afraid of being looked down upon by her sister Jiang Lin, so she gave him face.

I had just been dragged by the Seventeenth Prince for a walk, and I had concealed the fact from him where my painting was, and I thought I had escaped it.

Now, are they being targeted again? They are haunting us.

He quickly pointed to the left tremblingly: "Come over there, the third one."

Unexpectedly, the Seventeenth Prince ran over quickly, and called the servant holding the tray, brush and inkstone to follow him quickly. He picked up the brush and wrote a few words, then threw the brush in front of the servant and said, "This palace's masterpiece is finished."

Then, not feeling ashamed, he joined the group of young masters again.

When he reached Master Jiang, he urged him, "Master, hurry up. After you finish writing your poem, come over and have a drink. You haven't finished the drink you lost just now."

Jiang Hua had no interest in whether he won the award or not, but he wrote so fast that he definitely couldn't write any good poems.

I ran over and took a closer look at the two lines of poetry and was furious. What the hell is going on here?

"Flowers are in full bloom on the branches, and people standing under the flowers are hard to match;

If you want to know who is the most beautiful here, everyone lowers their eyebrows under the peach blossoms. "

The flower is beautiful enough, but it is used to set off itself. It would be fine if there were no poems praising it, but a few doggerel lines even humiliated it. No, it's not humiliating it, it's clearly meant to rub it into the mud.

What it means is that she is not even as good as the worst and most dilapidated peach or plum blossom.

But Jiang Hua was angry, but she couldn't do anything about it. Who told him that he was so important? She could only run over and complain angrily to Chu Chu and Qiao Qiao. She looked really cute when she was angry, but her words showed that she hated the Seventeenth Prince to the core.

After hearing this, Chuchu, Juanjuan and Qiaoqiao became a little interested. It seemed that the words were not as bad as Jiang Hua said.

When I savored it carefully, I found it quite good. It broke through the constraints of ordinary poems and revealed the true nature naturally. It did not necessarily mean to disparage anyone, but was just to highlight the beautiful scenery.

Fortunately, no one had high expectations for the Seventeenth Prince's poem, and those who saw it just laughed. They did not think that the painting was bad, but that Jiang Hua had become the one being pranked.

Chuchu and Juanjuan read the poem carefully, and then looked at Yanghua's not-so-serious handwriting. Juanjuan even comforted Jiang Hua: "This seventeenth prince is not as bad as the rumors say."

Chuchu also agreed: "I also think poetry and calligraphy are pretty good."

But Jiang Hua didn't quite agree with it. She already had a bad impression of this person in her heart.

Young Master Jiang was very serious. Although when it was his turn to write the poem, there were obviously fewer people watching. After seeing how unreliable the Seventeenth Prince was, the others probably didn't have much expectation, but he came prepared.

As expected, few people who came to the flower viewing party were there for fun. He walked straight to the painting he liked without any hesitation. Finally, he heard Juanjuan whisper beside him, "That was painted by Feng Jiaojiao. I just looked at it carefully. Each stroke is very smooth. She has some basic skills. She just painted it in a conventional way to win a prize. It doesn't match her personality at all, and it makes her look inferior.

People who don’t look at it carefully will definitely think that the painting is not good, but... if Mr. Jiang is willing to write a poem, he must have thought it through carefully and has some vision. "

As for what the words were, Chuchu was not interested. Juanjuan simply felt that Mr. Jiang had good taste and that the poem he wrote must be good. Therefore, she accompanied her sister and mother back to their original seats, poured them two cups of tea, and then pulled Qiaoqiao out to take a look. She was simply more interested in the poem.

The dust has settled on who will win the five awards. Some are happy while others are worried. Shen Meiniang, who didn't make any money, was so angry that she pulled someone over to yell, "Why? The Shunguo Mansion only won two awards. It's OK for the Jiang Xiangguo Mansion, because they put in money and effort, and Jiang Lin's painting is really good, so it's only right to give Jiang Hua an extra award.

But what about the Shunguo Mansion? Can Yan Chuchu's painting be called a painting? It was such a sunny day, and the peach blossoms were in full bloom, but she insisted on showing off her skills by painting snowflakes and petals all over the ground. It was obviously just to attract attention."

Seeing her shouting so loudly, it seemed a bit cheap to be in such an occasion. The lady, who already felt it was a bit unfair, did not dare to agree with her no matter how indignant she was.

Only one noble lady who was very tall and pretty said, "We came here today to see the person, not the painting. Doesn't Shen Meiniang know this? Why are you making a fuss?"

After saying that, he glared at Xu Meiniang with a look of contempt, walked a few steps, turned around and said with disdain: "You can't compete with others, and you are still a nobody."

"You, what are you talking about? You have the ability, but others still didn't choose you, right?"