Start practicing from marrying the disfigured princess

The words fell.

Everyone looked at Ren Pingsheng with expectant eyes.

They were warriors and nobles. Although they did not take part in the imperial examinations, they had studied since childhood and naturally understood poetry and songs.

I understand in my heart.

If today's banquet can produce a masterpiece as good as Traveling Difficulty, it will be passed down through the ages.

These people can be regarded as benefiting from it.

As long as future generations think of poetry, they will remember that a group of martial arts disciples gave up their comfortable life in the capital and went south to fight against the demon clan.

Just thinking about it is exciting.

When King Jin heard this, he also looked at Ren Pingsheng, with no expression on his face.

In his eyes.

The poem "Traveling Difficulties" may not have been written by Ren Shengsheng.

After all, Ren was already in his prime, and he had never been heard of composing poetry in the previous twenty years. Suddenly such a masterpiece appeared. It was hard to say that he had not bought it.

It is not uncommon for powerful people to purchase poems from scholars and sign them with their own names.

It may not be impossible for the Prince of Zhenbei to cover the sky in the north and buy excellent poems to put gold on his face.

Second floor.

Xu Ruxian, the censor of Zuodu, raised his eyebrows when he heard this, looked at Cheng Jijiu, and said with a smile: "I can't say today that you and I will witness the birth of another masterpiece that will be handed down from generation to generation."

What Cheng Jijiu was thinking about was that Ren Pingsheng's words had ruined his students, and he was a little dissatisfied with him. He said lightly: "Of many poems, only one or two can be passed down and can be used to travel." It’s difficult, it’s not easy, how can you just make a second song casually like you said.”

Xu Ruxian raised his eyebrows: "How about making a bet?"

"What to bet on?"

"If he can make a masterpiece today, give me one or two of the top-quality clouds you have collected."

The best Yunwu is the name of the tea. It contains spiritual energy and can calm the mind. It is extremely precious and the annual output is less than one tael.

Even Great Confucian Cheng only had a few taels of sacrificial wine on hand, and he couldn't bear to drink it on weekdays.

Cheng Jijiu said, "What if he can't do it?"

Xu Ruxian said seriously: "I'll treat you to three drinks, and you can decide the location."

Hearing this, Cheng Jijiu was a little surprised.

You know, Xu Ruxian is a well-known iron rooster. In the twenty years he has been an official, he has never treated anyone to a drink or a meal. All the money he saved, in addition to daily life, was given to poor people.

He was willing to buy a drink, which was unprecedented.

However, it can be seen that the bet he just made was not a joke, but a serious plan to make a bet.

"What I just talked about was a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation." Cheng Jijiu reminded him.

"It's a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation."

At this time, Cheng Jijiu really couldn't understand: "Why are you so sure that he can create masterpieces that will be handed down from generation to generation?"

Xu Ruxian stroked his beard and showed a mysterious smile: "Intuition... If you don't know what to do, then don't bet."

Hearing this, Cheng Jijiu looked thoughtful.

He still didn't believe that Ren Pingsheng could create two poems that would be handed down from generation to generation in just half a year.

If you win, you can see the iron rooster plucking its feathers.

If he loses, he will get nothing more than one tael of top-grade cloud and mist. If he drinks one more tael of cloud and mist, he will not be able to break through to the second grade, so he will give it to him.

This is the thought.

Cheng Jijiu nodded: "Okay, I'll do as you say."

Xu Ruxian's eyes lit up, as if he was afraid that he would regret it, so he said: "A gentleman's words..."

Before he finished speaking, Cheng Jijiu continued: "It's hard to chase a horse."

The bet is fulfilled.

Xu Ruxian stroked his beard and smiled, looking like he was sure of victory.

When Cheng Jijiu saw this scene, he immediately realized something was wrong: "You can always tell me now, why are you so sure that Prince Zhenbei will be able to create a masterpiece today?"

Xu Ruxian said: "Do you remember the poem I told you last time?"

Cheng Jijiu thought for a while and asked: "What you are talking about is...looking back suddenly, that person is in the dim light?"

"Exactly."

Xu Ruxian raised his eyebrows, and his slightly rough old face was full of smiles: "That poem was written by Ren Pingsheng, and dancing is his nickname."

"this……"

Cheng Jijiu was stunned when he heard this.

Some time ago, in his spare time, he talked about this poem with students from the Imperial College.

Both himself and the students of the Imperial College spoke highly of this poem, and unanimously believed that this poem will be passed down through the ages.

At that time, I was still wondering why I had never heard of Qiwu before, but it turned out to be Ren Pingsheng’s nickname.

"Ren has been proficient in poetry all his life, and has lived in the border for a long time, guarding the country for our great Zhou Dynasty. Today's farewell to the kings and grandsons who went south to fight is in line with his state of mind, and he will most likely produce a masterpiece."

On the side, Xu Ruxian seemed to have won the bet, with a smile on his face.

Cheng Jijiu also agreed with his statement.

After all, Ren Pingsheng was able to write Difficulties in Traveling and The Sapphire Case in just two or three months, which shows that his poetic talent is extremely high.

Just by relying on this poem and one word, it is not an exaggeration to call it poetry.

It is not difficult to write a good song.

But...it may not be possible to create a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation.

If he could really do it, it would mean that there would be another peerless talent in the Zhou Dynasty.

In this case, losing a bet, what does it mean?

After thinking this, Cheng Jijiu fell silent, quietly waiting for Ren Pingsheng to write a poem.

…………

First floor.

Everyone's eyes were all focused on Ren Pingsheng.

Ren Pingsheng thought for a moment and waved his hand:

"Paper and pen!"

"Okay! Go get pen and paper!"

Seeing that he agreed, everyone cheered enthusiastically.

It took only a moment.

The shopkeeper brought paper and pen and placed them in front of Ren Pingsheng.

Ren Pingsheng picked up the pen and dipped it in ink and began to write.

It took less than half an incense stick of time.

He put pen to paper.

The poem was finished.

The grass on the plain withered and flourished every year.

Wildfires cannot burn it all, spring breeze blows it back to life.

The distant fragrance invades the ancient road, and the clear green connects to the deserted city.

I send the prince away again, and the grass is full of farewell feelings.

On the side.

Chen Zhiming read it out loud.

After reading it.

The hall became quiet.

Everyone was savoring this poem carefully.

Soon, someone analyzed it.

In the first four sentences, the prince used the inexhaustible wildfire to metaphorically represent the soldiers of our Great Zhou who fought bravely against the enemy.

In the last four sentences, the scenery of the deserted city on the ancient road in the south was used to express the reluctant farewell to these princes.

It is indeed a good work among farewell poems, but... I always feel that it is a little lacking.

Everyone thought so in their hearts, but they didn't say it out loud, just smiled and praised.

"Your Highness has great literary talent!"

Next table.

The King of Jin savored the poem carefully and shook his head gently: "This poem is indeed good, but it doesn't match the atmosphere of today's banquet. It's a little lacking in meaning after all."

Second floor.

The two great scholars felt the same way about this poem as the King of Jin.

This poem alone, as a farewell poem, can be said to be unmatched in the past ten years, but it is a little worse when placed at today's banquet.

This poem has the tenacity of the Zhou people that can't be burned by wildfires, and the reluctant farewell to friends, but it doesn't have the heroic momentum of going south to fight and kill enemies.

In short.

It is a good work, but not a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation.

At least, Cheng Jijiu thinks so.

He looked at Xu Ruxian with a gentle smile on his face: "Brother Gangfeng, do you think this poem can be called a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation?"

Xu Ruxian fell silent after hearing this.

In his eyes, if this poem spreads, it will surely be passed down to future generations.

But... compared with The Hard Road, it is still a little worse.

If you insist on saying it is a masterpiece, it is not impossible, but it seems that he cannot afford to lose.

For a moment, he didn't know how to answer.

After struggling for a long time, he sighed in his heart and said leisurely: "This poem is a little different from what I think in my heart, so..."

I wanted to say that I lost this bet.

Before I could say it, I heard the voice of reciting poetry again downstairs.

"The beacon fire illuminates the capital, and my heart is not fair.

Ya Zhang left Fengque, and the iron cavalry circled Longcheng.

The sky is dark and the flags and paintings are withered, and the wind is full of drums.

I would rather be a centurion than a scholar."

As the voice fell.

Xu Ruxian and Cheng Jijiu were both stunned.

"He is still writing poetry?"

Hearing the content of the poem.

Xu Ruxian couldn't help but cheer up, and he repeated it unconsciously.

"The beacon fire illuminates the capital, and my heart is not at peace.

Ya Zhang leaves Fengque, and the iron cavalry circles Longcheng.

The sky is dark, the flags and paintings fade, and the wind is full of drums.

I would rather be a centurion than a scholar... What a good poem!

It is vigorous and passionate. In just a few sentences, it describes the ambition and passion of the sons of our Great Zhou who abandon their comfort and join the army to defend the country. It is indeed a rare masterpiece!"

On the side.

Cheng Jijiu also showed an admiring look on his face: "Compared with the previous poem, this poem is more in line with the atmosphere of their banquet today. The writing is powerful and magnificent. It reads with an unstoppable momentum. It is very good."

At the same time.

On the first floor.

The originally slightly disappointed military meritorious sons and daughters were all excited after hearing this poem.

"The beacon fire illuminates the capital, and my heart is not fair.

Ya Zhang leaves Fengque, and the iron cavalry circles Longcheng... Isn't this what we are talking about?"

"This poem is still good, it is magnificent, and makes people want to pick up a knife and go to the southern border to kill monsters immediately!"

Everyone was talking about it, their faces were ruddy, and they didn't know whether it was because they drank too much wine or because of the atmosphere, their hearts were surging and their blood was boiling.

At this moment.

Chen Zhiming's voice sounded again, and in order to suppress the noisy noise, he recited the poem in a hoarse voice.

"Black clouds press down on the city, and the city is about to be destroyed, and the armor shines towards the sun and the golden scales open.

The horn sounds in the autumn sky, and the Yanzhi on the frontier is condensed into purple at night.

The half-rolled red flag is facing Yishui, and the frost is heavy and the drums are cold.

Report your intention on the Golden Terrace, and support Yulong to die for you."

The voice fell.

The whole Zuihua Pavilion fell into silence.

A few seconds later, there was an even more heated discussion.

Second floor.

Before the two great scholars had time to analyze the third poem, they heard the familiar voice again.

"The iron armor was shattered after a hundred battles on the battlefield, and the south of the city has been surrounded by several layers of siege.

Shooting and killing the demon general in the camp, leading the remaining thousands of soldiers back alone."

The voice fell.

The Zuihua Pavilion fell into silence again.

Even if you don't appreciate the content of this poem, just reading it once can make you feel the majestic momentum and heroic spirit!

In just a short time of an incense stick.

The prince actually wrote four poems in a row, each of which is so heroic that it makes people's blood boil.

With such literary talent, how can he be a warrior?

Even the most talented scholars in the capital may not be able to compare with the prince.

No!

Comparing those scholars who study the books of sages with the prince is too bullying.

After all, many scholars are not good at poetry.

It should be said that all the poets of the Great Zhou Dynasty, combined, may not be able to compare with the prince.

Second floor.

The two great scholars were also stunned by the continuous masterpieces.

Compared to the military exploits downstairs.

They soon understood the profound meaning of the four poems, and knew very well that any of the four poems could be regarded as the best frontier poems in recent years.

If recited by a Confucian scholar, with the blessing of verbal battles, it would be a powerful poem to kill the enemy!

These poems by the Prince of Zhenbei are not just masterpieces, but can actually improve the practical combat ability of Confucian scholars.

It is really incredible that a warrior can write a magnificent poem to kill the enemy!

Time passed by minute by minute.

No one made a sound in Zuihua Pavilion.

Everyone's eyes were on Ren Pingsheng.

He... was still writing poems!

On the second floor, although the two great Confucian scholars could not see the scene of Ren Pingsheng writing poems, they heard the sound of the pen falling, and they knew that Ren Pingsheng had not finished yet. They were shocked and began to look forward to it.

These four poems are already masterpieces, what kind of poems can he write.

After a while.

Chen Zhiming's voice, suppressing his excitement and excitement, sounded again.

"The wine is fine and the cup is glowing. The pipa is urging me to drink.

Don't laugh at me for sleeping drunk on the battlefield. How many people have ever returned from the battles since ancient times?"

The words fell.

Everyone seemed to be on the battlefield, their bodies trembling slightly because of excitement and excitement.

At the same time.

Ren Pingsheng had not put down his pen yet, and wrote freely.

"Fighting at dawn with golden drums, sleeping at night with jade saddles..."

"The forest is dark and the grass is startled by the wind, the general draws the bow at night..."

"Every ten miles a horse runs, every five miles a whip..."

"Draw a strong bow, use a long arrow..."

"Climb the mountain to watch the beacon fire in the daytime, drink the horse by the Jiaohe River at dusk..."

"When I was fifteen or twenty, I walked to capture the horse demon cavalry..."

"The geese fly low in the border town in the evening rain, and the asparagus is about to grow..."

"The young knight-errant in the capital, go to the guard tower to watch Taibai at night..."

"..."

"Drunk and look at the sword, dreaming of blowing the horn in the camp..."

"Lying down at night listening to the wind and rain, the iron horse and the icy river come into my dream..."

The Zuihua Pavilion was extremely quiet.

In addition to the sound of writing, there was only Chen Zhiming's slightly hoarse voice.

"He has written dozens of excellent works in a row, and the content is all about guarding the border and killing the enemy. This kind of poetry talent... I have never seen or heard of it before!"

The two great scholars listened and could no longer restrain their inner shock and excitement.

They looked at each other and left their seats at the same time.

They couldn't wait to come behind Ren Pingsheng, use their abilities to hide themselves, and quietly watch him write poems.

Time passed by minute by minute.

I don't know how long it took.

Ren Pingsheng finally put down his pen, exhaled a long breath, looked around, and said calmly: "I would like to give you poems to bid farewell."

As soon as these words came out.

The noble sons who were about to go south had a light in their eyes, and their bodies trembled slightly because of excitement.

They opened their mouths to say something, but found that their throats were dry and they couldn't make any sound.

The reason for this is that they know in their hearts.

It won't take long for today's events to spread all over the world and be passed down through the ages.

And their names will also be recorded and passed down for future generations because of the prince's actions today.

They have obtained the fame that countless people have spent their entire lives pursuing so easily.

For a moment, I didn't know what to say.

At this moment.

Chen Zhiming on the side finally reacted, stood upright, bowed respectfully, and said in a hoarse voice: "Thank you, prince!"

The other noble sons who were about to go south saw this scene, and they also reacted, followed suit, bowed respectfully, and said sincerely: "We... thank you, prince!"

Among the people attending the banquet today, less than 30% planned to go south.

The 70% of military sons who planned to stay in the capital were full of envy when they saw this scene.

Envy that they could get the prince's parting poem, and also envy that they could go south to kill monsters.

Ren Pingsheng's poems just now have completely aroused the blood in their bones.

It is no exaggeration to say that at this moment, they had nothing else in their minds, only the magnificent frontier city gates and the majestic momentum of fighting bravely.

I don’t know who shouted: "After today, I will ask the emperor to go south with you, and I will not return until I break Qingluan!"

Qingluan is a mountain range in southern Xinjiang, with rich spiritual energy, so it is occupied by the four major demon tribes.

Breaking through Qingluan is equivalent to defeating the demon tribe.

Then.

Someone shouted: "I also want to go south to kill demons! As the prince said, the ambition is to eat tiger and wolf meat when hungry, and to drink jackal and fox blood when thirsty!"

So.

Everyone responded and volunteered to go south.

The heroic momentum and magnificent atmosphere made several princes' eyes shine, and their blood surged, and they shouted together: "The ambition is to eat tiger and wolf meat when hungry, and to drink jackal and fox blood when thirsty!"

On the side.

When King Jin saw this scene, his eyes twitched.

He was extremely depressed.

I wanted to win people's hearts through this banquet, but who could have thought that it would end up like this.

If today's events were spread out, Ren Pingsheng would surely become famous all over the world, and he, the dignified Three Sage Kings, was just a foil, and had no sense of existence from beginning to end.

Like a joke that no one cared about.

This was the thought.

His face became more gloomy, and he picked up the wine glass and drank in silence.

On the other side.

After everyone expressed their feelings, they began to clink glasses and lined up to toast Ren Pingsheng.

They looked as if it was a great honor to drink a glass of wine with him.

What they didn't notice was.

Not far behind Ren Pingsheng.

The only two great scholars in the capital, strong men in the extraordinary realm, were looking at Ren Pingsheng's back and conversing with each other.

"With such talent, he can be called the leader of poetry in the world."

Cheng Jijiu sighed like this.

aside.

Xu Ruxian looked thoughtful, and after a while he suddenly said: "If he studies, he can achieve great achievements and step into the extraordinary by just relying on poetry.

What's more, the fact that he only showed talent in poetry does not mean that he is only good at poetry. He may also have talent in articles, and even... the Four Books and Five Classics may not be devoid of insights. "

The words fell.

Cheng Jijiu's heart skipped a beat, and a gleam of light burst out in his eyes: "You are right. If he changes his mind to Confucianism and studies hard, he may not be able to reach the extraordinary world with his poetry!"

Speaking of this, he made a decisive decision: "I will accept him as a disciple and teach him the way of a sage."

aside.

Xu Ruxian glanced at him and said calmly: "Don't forget how the Holy One targeted King Zhenbei twenty years ago, and how King Zhenbei slaughtered the northern officials. Regardless of whether he was willing to change to Confucianism or not, Just say that if you accept him as your disciple, what will the officials who have a bloody feud with the King of Zhenbei think of you? "

Hearing this, Cheng Jijiu's face showed a tangled look. After a moment, he sighed leisurely and said helplessly: "Now it seems that the Holy Lord's decision back then... is indeed unfair."

So many years.

This was the first time Xu Ruxian heard Cheng Jijiu comment on the incident twenty years ago, and there was a hint of surprise in his eyes.

This guy actually complained to Your Majesty because he couldn't accept him as his disciple.

It seems that he sincerely believes that anyone who worships him all his life will be able to step into the transcendent world.

It's a pity... Because of the estrangement twenty years ago, it is almost impossible for Ren Pingsheng, the prince of Zhenbei, to change to Confucianism.

This is the thought.

Xu Ruxian couldn't help but sigh in his heart and fell into silence.

After a while, he suddenly remembered something, looked at Cheng Jijiu, and raised his eyebrows: "Does the bet between you and me still count?"

Unable to accept him as his disciple, Cheng Jijiu was in a bad mood and said in a low voice: "One tael of top-quality clouds and mist will be served tomorrow."

When Xu Ruxian heard this, he stroked his beard, smiled, and wanted to say something.

Before he could speak, he suddenly discovered that Ren Pingsheng, who was not far away, turned his head and looked in his direction, with a little doubt in his eyes.

"Could it be that...he noticed my existence?

How could this be possible for a small seventh-grade martial artist? "

Xu Ruxian looked surprised and turned to look at Cheng Jijiu beside him: "Did he just notice us?"

Cheng Jijiu said: "Maybe it's just a coincidence."

On the contrary, a seventh-grade martial artist whose soul is already weak, how could he possibly achieve this.

Thinking of this, Xu Ruxian withdrew his gaze and said, "Don't worry about accepting disciples. Go back and have a drink. The banquet of eight monsters at that table cannot be wasted."

When Cheng Jijiu heard this, he sighed in his heart, stopped thinking about it, and nodded slightly.

"good."

…………

"Strange, why do I always feel like someone is standing behind me? Is it just an illusion?"

Ren Pingsheng looked back and frowned slightly.

Right now.

Someone else came up to toast.

Ren Pingsheng hesitated for a moment, no longer thought about it, and raised his glass to drink.

time flies.

An hour or two passed in the blink of an eye.

Everyone, including Ren Pingsheng, was already drunk.

The banquet ends here.

With the help of several people.

Ren Pingsheng walked out of Zuihua Pavilion.

"Let's, let's, take the prince back to his house." Chen Zhiming himself was almost confused and was still giving instructions to others.

Ren Pingsheng was being held up by two people. He looked confused, but his consciousness was actually quite clear. He was about to refuse when he suddenly heard a strange and familiar voice coming from not far away.

"Your Highness."

Just two words.

This made Ren Pingsheng feel refreshed and he woke up from the wine in an instant.

"Is this... the scar-faced voice of Mu Mansion?!"

Ren Pingsheng was shocked, but his face showed no expression. He still looked drunk and looked sideways.

Not far away, a guard wearing a black robe and a mask with a sword was saluting King Jin.

The body shape is exactly the same as the Scarface in memory!

"He is from Prince Jin's Mansion."

Ren Pingsheng's eyes narrowed and he remembered this matter in his heart.

at the same time.

A familiar voice came to my ears.

"Your Majesty, my servant has come to pick you up."

Turn around and look.

The speaker was Little Green Tea Jiang Chuyue.