Quickly wear! Bind to the scumbag transformation system

"Meeting beautiful women with poems has been an elegant hobby since ancient times. Today, my Cuiwei Pavilion will also be elegant. I would like to invite all talented people to write a poem for my daughter Cuihong. Whoever writes the best poem will win."

As soon as these words came out, some people in the audience were dissatisfied:

"Mother Hua, please don't lie to us. If you say you'll choose whoever you like, then it will be a pre-determined decision. Why should we bother to participate in the competition?"

"Could it be that Miss Cuihong has already found someone she likes, and that we are being too hasty here?"

These words made Cuihong turn her face away in shame, and even her swan-like white neck was stained with rouge, which made the people in the audience stare at her in amazement and even made a fuss.

Mother Hua pinched Yuan Tong's waist with both hands, and scolded with a smile:

"My Lord, you guys only know Hu Qin. My Cuiwei Pavilion has been in the capital for 30 years. When have we ever done something so shameless?"

"Today's poetry gathering has specially invited Mr. Zhao from the Beijing Poetry and Painting Museum and Mr. Dong from Lushan College to be the judges. Now you have nothing to say, right?"

When everyone heard this, they looked back and saw two scholars in their fifties sitting in a private room halfway up the hall.

They were the two men known as talented men in the capital.

The people of Dai Viet are open-minded. Unlike brothels in other places, brothels are not only places for drinking and having fun, but most of the time they also become places for literati to express themselves elegantly, compose poetry and paint.

Especially when there are festivals or events, this place will become lively and lively, with poetry readings and art exhibitions held here, attracting some of the art-loving people in Beijing to come and appreciate the culture together.

"Hey, then you should have said so earlier, Mother Hua. Since these two adults are the judges, the competition must be fair. Let's get started!"

Mother Hua raised her lotus finger and pointed at the man:

"You are so impatient. You were the one who said it was unfair just now, and now you are the one who asked me to start quickly. I don't want you to win the first prize today, otherwise my girl will suffer."

The joke immediately heated up the atmosphere, causing the audience in the building to burst into laughter. The man who had just spoken was so embarrassed that his face turned red and he sat down.

Yan Kuan took a sip of wine from the jug and watched with great joy from the table behind him.

I thought to myself: This Hua Mama is quite tactful and knows how to talk, no wonder she can run Cuiwei Pavilion so well.

Glancing outside the building, I saw people craning their necks to watch the excitement lined up to the end of the street.

At this time, the gong sounded on the stage: "The poetry competition officially begins. Participants are welcome to participate. There is no limit to the rhythm."

The person who called out just now couldn't wait any longer and raised his hand and said, "I'll do it, I'll do it"

He seemed to feel that this was indecent, so he quickly stood up, brushed off his cloth robe, and bowed respectfully to Cuihong:

"I, Wen Changqing, have written two lines of poetry for you, please appreciate them."

"She wears light makeup and thin clothes, and looks like a fairy."

Cui Jue sneered after hearing this: "You are just trying to flatter someone."

Yan Kuan had excellent hearing, and upon hearing this, he said to Cui Jue across the table with amusement:

"I'm afraid this person doesn't even have the ability to flatter others."

The voice was so loud that the people in the audience burst into laughter when they heard it.

Cui Jue glared at Yan Kuan angrily, slammed the table and stood up and said, "I'll do it."

So he said to Cuihong: "You are as bright as a mirror and as shiny as jade fingers. Even though your hair is not as white as clouds, you are still pitiful."

"Well, Lord Cui wrote a great poem!" The people next to Cui Jue cheered loudly.

Zhao Dong and the other director on the stage also nodded: "Master Cui is not only powerful in martial arts, but also as talented in literature as the students in the capital."

"Yes, what a talent," complimented someone nearby.

Upon seeing this, Cui Jue looked at Yan Kuan proudly before sitting down.

Chen Kuang was so angry that his cheeks bulged. He drank a sip of wine in silence: "Look how proud he is. It's amazing that he can write poetry."

Seeing that his brother was really angry, Yan Kuan patted him on the shoulder and lowered his head:

He is just a wire strainer - he is really good at making up stories, why are you angry with him?"

As he said this, he clinked glasses with him using the wine jug.

When Chen Kuang heard this, he almost spit out the wine in his mouth and laughed out loud: "Yan, Brother Yan, you are really amazing!"

Cui Jue had a feeling that the two were saying bad things about him, and just as he was about to speak, Chong Desheng stood up:

"I have written a good sentence, please judge for yourself"

"A glance at the crowd shows the beauty of the world, which is like dust"

"Great! This really praises Miss Cuihong's smile to the sky."

"As expected of the first talented scholar in the capital, his writing is brilliant."

Even Mr. Zhao and Mr. Dong on the stage said hello with a smile.

Cui Jue looked indignant. The warriors nearby saw this and wanted to please him, so they shouted loudly:

"I think Mr. Cui is still more skilled."

“Yes, I think so too.”

The two judges on the Cuijue stand did not give in, trying to shift the blame to someone else, and looked at Yan Kuan provocatively:

"Zhuangyuan Yan, didn't you say you dare? Now come on!"

All the men and women in the building looked at the new number one scholar. Yan Kuan was a handsome man with an outstanding heroic spirit. Everyone wanted to see if his knowledge was as impressive as his martial arts. Otherwise, he would just be a warrior with no literary talent.

Yan Kuan's goal today has been achieved. He doesn't want to really film a girl's virginity. As a civilized man who has been influenced by modern culture, he cannot do such a thing.

Anyway, today's goal has been achieved, so I just wanted to say something to deal with it.

But when he glanced at the stage, he saw the girl Cuihong, who had helped him out of righteousness when she first came to Beijing, looking at him helplessly, with a bitter smile that could not be concealed with a trace of sadness.

Yan Kuan was stunned.

"Hey, if you don't dare, just say it directly. We will just laugh at you. It's really ridiculous that the current martial arts champion has no knowledge of literature."

Cui Jue and others burst into laughter.

Chen Kuang's face turned red with anger. He stood up and was about to argue with them, but was held back by Yan Kuan.

"Why are you in such a hurry? Do you think I'm as casual as you are and would use a vulgar poem to fool Miss Cuihong?"

As soon as these words came out, everyone became curious: "Don't keep us in suspense, Yan Zhuangyuan, just tell us now."

Yan Kuan lowered his head and carefully searched for some ancient poems that he had almost forgotten, and suddenly his eyes lit up.

He looked up and said calmly: "I have searched for her among the crowd for hundreds of times. Suddenly I turned around and saw her standing by the dimming lights."

As soon as this poem came out, Zhao Fangcheng and Dong Pan on the stage stood up in surprise, with admiration in their eyes:

"Good, good, what a good poem"

"The artistic conception is so appropriate. There is no direct praise, but it is full of praise. It is better than the previous one."

Dong Pan was a pedantic scholar who liked talented people the most. He immediately wanted to invite Yan Kuan to the academy for further discussion.

Yan Kuan doesn't like these pretentious things, they are difficult to pronounce.

He quickly declined: "I still have to work on a case with the Prime Minister, let's do it another day."

Dong Pan nodded regretfully.

Mother Hua stood up with a smile on her face:

"If there is no objection, the first place winner of today's poetry competition will be our champion. Sir Yan, please come this way."