My Empress is My Bad Girl

Bao Xing didn't say a word, and squirmed his chin.

Yuzhu looked down, but saw that the queen empress was struggling to write.

Swipe.

In a blink of an eye, she wrote two poems, and she didn't want to pause or revise them. After finishing writing, she threw them to Baoxing and said, "Give them to General Xu."

Yuzhu's jaw is about to fall.

This... is too fast.

Can I still read the poem written here?

Yuzhu didn’t dare to attack his master. After thinking about it for a long time, he cautiously said: "Manny, it’s hard for the emperor to ask you for poems. Should we consider it? It is said that the palace is going to hold a poem banquet with you this year. Don't be robbed of the limelight by Concubine Jing."

"Don't worry, they are all excellent poems." Yun Dai stood up nonchalantly, stretched her waist, "Go for breakfast. After eating, we choose the materials and make new clothes for the New Year."

Yuzhu followed up: "The talent of the empress is naturally the best, but it's a matter of careful consideration for writing poetry. Either the slave and maid want the poem back? Think about it."

"Yu Zhu, let me tell you this. If my poem does not win a prize, there is only one possibility. The referees are idiots who are ignorant, and they are not worthy to read these good poems that have been passed down through the ages."

Yuzhu was completely suppressed by his master's big talk.

Privately, she told Bao Xing: "Even if we can't win, our damsels are commendable for their self-confidence."

Xu Hu returned to the palace with Yundai's poem and sent it to the emperor.

Zhao Yuanjing couldn't wait to pick it up and look at it.

Ten days ago, after he first discovered Yun Dai's talent in poetry, he kept thinking about it and wanted her to write a few more poems. It can't be a matter of face, Yan'er is not there, and it is not easy for him to always go to Ganquan Temple.

Fortunately, there are still more than ten days to celebrate the New Year. The Queen Mother and a few old wives were bored, saying that they would hold a poem banquet for enjoying the snow. If someone had made a good poem, he would give it a reward.

The officials of the imperial court are also on holiday, and they are also idle, and many people come to join in the fun.

Zhao Yuanjing was not interested at first, but when she heard that Jin Yao and Guo Ning were also going to participate, she thought of Yundai's poems.

This is an excellent opportunity to ask poems in a fair manner.

No, it's time to get it.

Zhao Yuanjing first scanned the two poems from beginning to end, and was immediately attracted.

One is entitled Plum Blossom.

There were a few branches of plum in the corner, and Ling Han opened it alone. I know it is not snow, because there is a secret fragrance.

The other song is called Mo Mei.

The head tree in my home washes the inkstone, blossoming with light ink marks. Don't let people praise the color, just leave the fresh air to fill the universe.

One lonely, one majestic.

Talent and arrogance, between the lines, the expression is full.

Zhao Yuanjing couldn't help but want to praise a wonderful word.

He read it with love for a long time, and ordered someone to copy the poem, mount it, and take it out when the poem was held.

At this time, Jin Yao also came with a poem, and smiled: "The concubine body is in a state of lack of energy, and after thinking hard for several days, he can barely make two poems. It is shameful. I would like to ask the concubine to have a look. If so. No, I'll do it again."

Zhao Yuanjing raised his eyebrows and said, "Present it."

Jin Yao was a famous talented girl in Beijing when she was in her boudoir.

He wanted to see how Jin Yao's poem compares with Yun Dai's.

When I opened it up, it turned out to be a poem about snow.

The whirling clouds outside the building, the lonely snow on the wall.

The willows are light and vigorous, and the velvet dancing warbler.

Melting snow and smelling plum fragrant, running water and smelling music.

The wind is full of pity and whiteness, still leaving the heart of the king.

It's also a good poem.

But when I read it, I always feel dull and uninteresting.