Long Aotian knelt down to me [Quick Transmigration]

If you want to look at it, the two poems just now are already ironclad evidence, plus Hong Zimu's swearing "made on the spot", with these two things as evidence, no matter what, it can beat people to death.

But Fang Xia took a look at Shan Changhei's calm and immobile face beside him, and the latter obviously didn't intend to make trouble now.

Fang Xia:?

Is this going to continue to collect "evidence"?Still don't want to disturb the poetry meeting, and plan to deal with it after the end?

Fang Xia thought about it, but temporarily suppressed it and didn't make a sound.

So the poetry will continue like this.

The second round, the third round, the fourth round...

As the rounds went on, Fang Xia gradually couldn't even agree with the words on the scene with the 100% repetition rate content.

On the other side, the head of the mountain had no intention of speaking again.

However, among those present, he had the most respected status and the oldest age. He made it clear that he didn't want to speak up, and no one forced him to ask for anything.

But Fang Xia was not so lucky. Although he was specially invited to sit next to the head of the mountain, he was the one with the lowest qualifications and the youngest among all the judges. In this era where seniority is very important , Even if you take Joe, it's not his turn to take it.It seemed that he was too out of place, so Fang Xia could only forcibly extract a few sentences from the teacher's words in the previous comments, fill in some synonyms, and just reluctantly mix up his own comments.

To be honest, Fang Xia never thought that the situation would go so smoothly.

Although Fang Xia did find the theme of the poem specifically from Yang Shouche's old works, but at the time he was thinking that "I can hit one or two poems", but he didn't expect that the other party would cooperate so well, from beginning to end, it was seamless... ...It's almost like memorizing the reference answer.Even if I occasionally improvised a few sentences in the Master's comment, it matched the content sent by [Yang Mingliu] the day before.

This made Fang Xia not know what to say.

——His embarrassing problem is almost committed.

In particular, Hong Zimu didn't know what to think, and every time he met Fang Xia's eyes, he would say a few words about what inspired him to make this poem, to show that he did it on the spot.

Fang Xia: Not at all.

He couldn't bear to continue watching.

Fang Xia's mood was so complicated that the poetry meeting ended.

The four who advanced to the final round did not continue to be eliminated, but were directly negotiated by the master to give the ranking.It's just that before the final result came out, the head of the mountain, who had been silent all this time, finally made a move.

He raised his hand and stopped the teacher who was about to announce the ranking just now. The latter thought that the head of the mountain was going to announce the result himself, so he naturally handed over the paper in his hand—the result of their discussion just now— .

Over there, on the poetry writing stage, although the final ranking has not yet been announced, the four people who remained in the field have already made a conclusion in their hearts, and several other people on the stage cupped their hands to congratulate Hong Zimu who is in the middle.

Hong Zimu had already made up his mind about this "leader". Although he still spoke modestly, he did not give in.

The low-pitched congratulations soon stopped. Regardless of the contestants on the stage or the students watching below, everyone held their breath and looked at the judges' bench to the side to wait for the final result.

After so many years of self-cultivation, the head of the mountain is still as motionless as a mountain under the gaze of so many people, and he can't see the black face just now.He coughed and caught everyone's attention in an instant, but when he opened his mouth, he didn't directly announce the ranking as he wished, but said: "The old man got a copy a while ago, and the poems on it are all good. It’s just that for some reason, the person who wrote the poems erased his name. He must be a hermit who doesn’t care about fame and wealth... But those poems are all rare and good poems, so the old man copied them down. Good to share with you.”

"No signature" was Yang Shouche's suggestion.

If Fang Xia meant it, he would naturally take this opportunity to completely rectify Yang Shouche's name, no matter the poems or articles that Hong Zimu produced, they should be "returned to their original owners".

But Yang Shouche shook his head and denied it.

"His... Hong Zimu's articles are indeed in line with the students' ideas, and they may be written by me in the future, but the students do not have such accomplishments after all. If those articles are just pressed on me, the students may not be able to do so at night." Difficult to sleep at night."

Seemingly seeing Fang Xia's disapproval, Yang Shouche turned around to persuade him, "Master, don't worry. Articles and poems are dead, but people are alive. People can't take away things like learning. Since the future me can write If I publish such an article, how do I know I can’t write other articles?”

When the boy said this, he had to keep his back straight, his eyes bright and clear.

Fang Xia suddenly realized that it was Yang Shouche's pride: the young man didn't feel that he would lose to others, and he didn't bother to take other people's achievements as his own, even if that "other" was himself in the future.

Fang Xia finally has the real feeling that this is actually a "proud sky".

His arrogance was no less than anyone else's, but compared to Wei Chen and Shang Qin, Yang Shouche's arrogance was more restrained and less visible in front of others.

In the end, Fang Xia did as Yang Shouche wanted, and did not sign any of the poems he wrote for the head of the mountain.

At the poetry meeting at this moment, while talking, the head of the mountain handed out the thin volumes in his hand that had been left untouched since the beginning of the poetry meeting.

The dozens of thin volumes on the table are very eye-catching. Someone asked about it as early as the beginning of the poetry meeting, but the head of the mountain just said "it's not the time yet" and dismissed the topic. Although everyone here is curious, they can only hold back temporarily after hearing those words.

Now hearing what the head of the mountain said, the people next to him continued the booklet and smiled: "You old guy, if you have such a good thing, don't take it out early, just to whet people's appetite."

The person who spoke was the old master who interrupted when the head of the mountain asked Hong Zimu "whether this poem was written by me". Obviously, the relationship between the two is not as simple as a superior and a subordinate, but more like friends for many years-the fact is indeed different from this. Not far away.

The old master opened the booklets while handing them to the person on the other side.But when he saw the line of words at the beginning of the title, his smiling face suddenly froze.He hurriedly flipped through the pages, and the pages were turned with a rattling sound. This was no longer an ordinary reading action, and the old man had no intention of appreciating any masterpieces at this time. The more he read, the more gloomy his face became. As soon as the booklet was placed on the table fiercely, it was ready to attack.

Fortunately, the mountain chief next to him knew his old friend well, and stopped him before the other party got angry.

And at this moment, the masters in the back also got the brochures. After flipping through them roughly, some of them were shocked, and some of them couldn't believe it... But they were always concerned about the presence of the head of the mountain, and no one crossed over. He took the first step to attack, but for a moment all eyes also focused on Hong Zimu.

Hong Zimu was not in a very happy mood when the old mountain chief said that he wanted Lao Shizi to "appreciate excellent works". He was still waiting for the other party to announce his ranking and enjoy a wave of classmates' pursuit, so he didn't care about any hermits or poems.Coupled with the baptism of various modern talent shows, Hong Zimu is very familiar with this set of operations-isn't this just an advertisement before the ranking is announced?

He couldn't help but secretly scolded the mountain chief in his heart as "cunning and cunning".

And I couldn't help but maliciously speculate: The so-called "hermit expert" shouldn't be referring to himself?

Hong Zimu was thinking about this, but he noticed that the master's eyes all fell on him.

There is still a distance between the judges' seat and the competition venue. Hong Zimu couldn't exactly see the expressions on each teacher's face, but he could still feel the unpleasant atmosphere.

He couldn't help but his heart skipped a beat, feeling that something had happened beyond his control.

Although he had this feeling, Hong Zimu subconsciously straightened his body, trying to hide his guilty conscience with his body posture.

He also soon heard the old mountain chief ask the question for the second time, "Are you really writing these poems yourself?"

Hong Zimu's heart tightened all of a sudden, but there was a previous false alarm, so he was able to stand it now, and asked calmly, "What does the head of the mountain mean?"

The old master sitting next to the head of the mountain is obviously impatient. Although he was temporarily restrained before, he still couldn't help but intervene now. The thin booklet that fell on the table in front of him was just on the last page. , read the last two lines of the poem again, and asked in a deep tone, "Since you said you did it yourself, what do you mean by these two lines?!"

Hong Zimu was taken aback for a moment, and his tense mood suddenly relaxed.

If this was Yang Mingliu's poem, he would really feel a little bit inwardly, but the sentence the old master said just now is clearly the work of a later generation. There is nothing to be afraid of.

He couldn't help but glanced at the head of the mountain again, deeply feeling that this bad old man was deceiving him.

But in the end he straightened his sleeves, and calmly answered the old master's question.

Since this is a famous sentence that Hong Zimu can still memorize until now, it was also analyzed when he learned it back then.Although his memory of the latter is not as strong as the poems, he still has a vague impression, but he couldn't help but pause when he recited it aloud.Hong Zimu vaguely recalled that this line of the poem seemed to tell the author that he was depressed and hopeless - based on his past life experience, obviously nothing was suitable for this emotion.

However, after all these years of pretending, it is difficult to say how talented he is, but Hong Zimu has long honed his on-the-spot flexibility.

Because some images in the poems are inherently vague, and some people deliberately reversed them. Since the "master" of his poem explained this, of course no one expressed any objection, but the old master who made the sound couldn't hold back his sneer.

The head of the mountain raised his hand again to stop the old friend's movement, and asked slowly: "I also have a question here, I wonder if you can answer it?"

Hong Zimu really doesn't have a good impression of this nagging old mountain leader at the moment, but since the other party's identity is here, he can only hold back any dissatisfaction at the moment, thinking to himself: I will do it later If you become an official, you must tell this old man to leave.

No matter how much he thought in his heart, Hong Zimu, who was only a student at the moment, could only speak with a humble attitude: "Shan Zhang, please tell me."

"'There must be a solid heart for advocacy, and then you can temper all kinds of craftsman'[1], what is the explanation for this?"

Suddenly switching from poetry to policy theory, Hong Zimu was really stunned for a while, but his mind hadn't turned around yet.It turned out that the person beside him reacted even faster. Seeing that Hong Zimu didn't seem to be slowing down, he hurriedly reminded him in a low voice, "...On the Emperor's Government."

Hong Zimu hurriedly came back to his senses, suddenly realized: "It was originally a sentence in "Emperor's Government"."

Hearing what he said, the person who originally reminded him froze for a moment, and frowned slightly.

"Emperor's Government" was clearly written by Brother Hong, so why did the tone of the article sound like it was written by an outsider?