Rise From the Humble

  Chapter 415 Nonsense

Huang Jin, who came to pass the note, was not at all surprised by Yuan Wei's quick success. This Yuan Wei has always been quick-witted. In the past, the emperor sometimes passed out a piece of imperial imperial poems in the middle of the night, and Yuan Wei always completed it with his pen. And even the Holy One likes it.

  At this time, seeing Yuan Wei doing it in one go, Huang Jin showed a satisfied look on his face, and then walked over to watch Yuan Wei's masterpiece.

  The characters are like dragons and snakes, vigorous and powerful, completed in one go, and the calligraphy is very exquisite. Literary talent is also good, and poetry is also a top-notch work, which can be called excellent, but it is good, it can be called a master in calligraphy, and it can be acclaimed in literary talent, but there is not much impulse in appetite, which is a pity.

   "Master Yuan has a heart." Huang Jin nodded to Yuan Wei calmly.

  Received Huang Jin's appreciation, the arrogance on Yuan Wei's face became even more intense, and his chin was raised more than forty degrees.

  After Yuan Wei finished writing, other people began to write gradually. The next one to finish writing was Li Chunfang. Like Yuan Wei, Li Chunfang also often wrote poems for Emperor Jiajing, and his poetry writing skills have increased even more these days in the Imperial Academy:

  Fresh bamboo shoots in the suburbs of Beijing take advantage of shad, rotten boiled in early March.

   Only water shield and perch are worthy of eating, and gods are also eating fish.

Compared with Yuan Wei's poems, Huang Jin's expression was a little more colorful after reading Li Chunfang's poems, but he still felt a little regretful in his heart. Although the poems are a little tasteful and make people feel a little bit excited about the fish, they are still a little sad. That's all, it still can't make people appetite, what a pity.

   "Master Li has a heart." Huang Jin nodded, unable to see his emotions.

  After Li Chunfang finished writing the poem, others also wrote a poem one after another. Zhang Juzheng and Zhang Siwei also wrote a poem each.

  Zhang Juzheng's poems are definitely the best works:

  The dragon king knows the beauty of fish, and the mountain **** knows the fragrance of bamboo shoots.

  Gan brewed white jade cup, the half-bodied taste is especially long.

  Zhang Siwei did not disappoint his literary talents, and followed Zhang Juzheng to write an excellent work.

   All the Hanlin present here have basically written a masterpiece, and the only one who has not yet written is Zhu Pingan. Zhu Ping'an was born as the No. 1 Scholar, but he hadn't written a pen at this time, and everyone couldn't help turning their eyes to him.

  Could it be that Zhuangyuan Lang was dumbfounded when he received the proposition from the Holy Majesty for the first time?

Huang Jin also set his sights on Zhu Ping'an at the moment. If he had high hopes for someone this time, it would be Zhu Ping'an. It was Zhu Ping's poem on the wine table last night that made the emperor eat two more. A big bowl of rice.

In fact, when he saw Emperor Jiajing’s note, Zhu Pingan’s first reaction was the food-style poems created by those foodies he saw in modern times. His joke last night was the food-style poems he saw on the Internet. One of the poems, it is said that when I read these poems in modern times, I have a big appetite. Eating instant noodles even saves the old godmother than watching China on the tip of my tongue.

   But the only problem is, I don’t know if it’s acceptable in this day and age, and it’s for the most powerful people in the world.

   "Why hasn't the number one scholar written yet?" Huang Jin asked.

   "Dare to ask Huang Gong, what are the restrictions on poetry?" Zhu Pingan did not answer, but asked Huang Jin a question.

   "No one else, just an appetizer." Huang Jin shook his head, and then added meaningfully: "Don't worry too much, just write whatever you want."

There is something in the words, but I like it. Zhu Pingan nodded slightly and had an idea. If he writes according to the routine, his literary talent is not as good as that of Yuan Wei, Li Chunfang, and Zhang Juzheng. The thing is that there is not much appetite.

Think about it, Emperor Jiajing’s appetite was poor and he couldn’t eat. Let Emperor Jiajing laugh twice, it seems not bad.

   face?

  Ahem, how much is that thing worth, and wearing it is quite tiring.

  After thinking clearly, Zhu Ping'an raised the corners of his lips, picked up the brush with a joking feeling, and dipped the inkstone into the inkstone.

  For a while, everyone focused their eyes on Zhu Pingan's pen tip that was dripping with ink.

  You are good at holding the pen and writing steadily, but what do you mean by standing still on the paper? ! After watching Zhu Pingan pick up the pen, dip the ink, and put the pen down, everyone was waiting to read the poem written by Zhu Pingan, but at this critical moment, they saw that Zhu Pingan put the pen down on the paper and there was no text, and he did not move at all. It seems to be turned off.

  What, are you nervous and confused?

   Embarrassment is an embarrassing task, and Yuan Wei looked at Zhu Ping'an with more disdain.

   "Ahem, I have bothered Mr. Huang, and I would like to ask, what kind of food does the imperial dining room want to serve to His Majesty today, for fear of disrupting His Majesty's eating arrangements."

  Zhu Ping'an's voice sounded about half a second after writing.

  When Zhang Juzheng heard the words, he couldn't help but look at Zhu Ping'an more, he was very thoughtful, why didn't Zhu Ping'an think about this point himself!

   Everyone else seemed to feel the same way.

   "Your Majesty fasted and ate vegetarian food for a long time a few days ago, and the Imperial Dining Room wanted to make more meat for the Holy One to nourish his energy and blood."

  Huang Jin looked at Zhu Ping'an with admiration. He was very satisfied with Zhu Ping'an's carefulness. He could put himself in the place of the Holy One and consider it instead of simply holding the mentality of completing the task. Such a courtier is the one that His Majesty admires.

   Oh, eat more meat.

  Zhu Ping'an nodded, and then the writing brush in his hand began to dance in dragons and phoenixes, without adding any points, and it was done in one go:

  No bamboo makes people vulgar, and no meat makes people thin.

  Not bad and not thin, braised pork with bamboo shoots.

  At the beginning, everyone was shocked by Zhu Ping'an's superb calligraphy. Zhu Ping's calligraphy can be said to be the best in the Imperial Academy, but when Zhu Ping'an finished writing the poem, everyone was stunned. Uh, is this a doggerel? But it is a bit more elegant than doggerel. Zhu Ping'an's doggerel adapted Su Shi's poem: I would rather eat without meat than live without bamboo. No meat makes people thin, no bamboo makes people vulgar. I took two sentences from Su Shi's poem, but perfected them into a poem.

   Regardless of the literary talent, seeing this poem does make people have a strong urge to try this good and not thin bamboo shoot braised pork, very strong.

  However, if it is a thesis, Zhu Ping'an's poem can't be compared with Yuan Wei and Li Chunfang. Is this also called poetry? ! After thinking for so long, Yuan Wei and several people looked at Zhu Ping'an with disdain to write such a poem.

"Actually, I like food more. Sometimes when I read ancient poems, I can't help but think of food, and then I try to make some interesting sentences. It's almost like this." Zhu Pingan said with a embarrassed smile Laughed, and then took up a pen and wrote it for everyone to see:

  The old man left the Yellow Crane Tower and went all the way to buy fish heads!

  Junwen has no return date, braised chicken with braised eggplant and oil.

   Once the sea was too difficult for water, fish-flavored pork shreds were served with chicken legs.

  It is difficult to say goodbye when you meet each other. Don’t put salt in steamed crabs.

  After Zhu Pingan finished writing these sentences, there was an uproar all around, accompanied by low-pitched words such as nonsense, what, and so on. If Zhu Ping'an's poem could still be called a poem at the beginning, the later one can't be described as a poem at all, and it is flattering to call it a doggerel.

  Junwen has no return date, braised chicken with braised eggplant and oil. What are these.

  (end of this chapter)