Wandering the Immortals and Martial Heavens

"Which one of you will come first?"

At this moment, Mrs. Gouyu asked again, a few maids behind her had already arranged the four treasures of the study.

Glancing at these scholars, Mrs. Gouyu couldn't help thinking: "Everyone is pretentious on weekdays. They are either well-educated or quick-witted, but when it comes to reciting poems and prose, they all scratch their heads..."

"In that case, let me do it." As soon as he finished speaking, everyone saw the rich man who had bought several poems squeezed out from the crowd.

This man's surname is Lu and his first name is Hang. He is the only son of the prefect of Hangzhou.

These rich guys are not short of money. For them, as long as they see the result, the process will never save a penny if they can solve it with money.

He bought a lot of poems before, no matter what he wrote, he could recite a few lines.

Since it was a random work, he could just pick one of the poems he bought.Immediately, he chose the one with the most words. After all, the more words there are, the more time it will take to write, and the time when everyone's eyes fall on him will be longer.

He not only loves beautiful women, but also loves being in the limelight, the feeling of being surrounded by people and focusing on him.

He was not polite, and wrote with a pen: "Ask who is ashamed to ask who is ashamed by the mood of the fence. It is slightly cold, and I recognize the cold flowers as snowflies. There are no peaches and plums passing through the courtyard, and the bright moon leans on the jade railing alone."

Although this word was bought by Lu Hang, it was full of lovesickness. At the end of writing, he still felt that it was not enough, and he didn't care whether it rhymed or not. , playing with mandarin ducks in flowing water."

Only then did he nod his head in satisfaction and put down his pen.

"Flowing water playing mandarin ducks, wonderful, wonderful" not only someone shouted, pointing out the essence of this poem.

Hearing this person's admiration, Lu Hang felt indescribably relieved. After all, only this sentence was made by himself. Looking at the person who spoke before, he felt a sense of confidant.

The other scholars also looked at Lu Hang with admiration on their faces. He was the first one to blatantly molested Miss Lingyu.

Everyone is still writing about lovesickness and Qiuyue, but he is the only one who stands out, and he is writing about molesting, he really is one of my generation!

Brother is amazing!

Although the first half of the story is very positive in style and is about lovesickness, the last sentence is enough.Everyone is used to watching the same thing, but they are also willing to watch some other fun.

"Brother, do you have a good sentence in your chest?" A scholar beside Jing Zhou poked him and asked with a smile.

Jing Zhou was dressed in white, his eyes were like stars, and he was holding a folding fan. He had a romantic air, and his slender figure stood out even in the crowd.

At this moment, Mrs. Gouyu also turned her head to look at him. It was because his handsome appearance was so conspicuous that it was difficult for her to ignore it.

No matter what age this woman is, she will look at her face. If she had a choice, no lady would marry a butcher, just like a scholar who looks down on a village girl.

Good wine with a good pot, good tea with good water, which woman does not have a dream of "younger brother" in her heart, especially Jing Zhou's attire like a jade prince, which makes Mrs. Gouyu like it more and more the more she looks at it.

It would be even more perfect if there was something in the stomach, not an uneducated idiot.

"It's just, why does this young master look so familiar?" Mrs. Gouyu frowned and thought for a while, before she remembered that a portrait she had seen before seemed to be carved out of the same mold as the young master in front of her.

"That portrait is also a young man in white with a folding fan, but there are a few more graceful girls behind her."

"However, the portrait is said to have been handed down from the Song Dynasty, and the young master in the painting is the founder of Yanbolou. If you think about it, there is really a fate in the world, and even after thousands of years, they still look so similar man of."

After thinking about it for a while, Mrs. Gouyu became even more curious about Jingzhou. According to legend, the young master in the painting also wrote a good poem with brilliant literary talent.

Mrs. Gouyu definitely doesn't believe these words. Presumably, it was added by later generations to flatter the founder of Yanbolou. In this world, how can there be such a perfect person?

"So, you really have to be optimistic."

Jing Zhou is not stage-frightened either. He told Ren Yingying that he is good at poetry and calligraphy is not a lie.

Not to mention being able to count the 5000-year history of China in detail, discussing the Tao with the master, and fighting wine with Li Bai, but writing lyrics and prose is not difficult for him.

"Brothers, let's see the beauty that my younger brother embraces."

Jing Zhou stood outside and yelled such a sentence, naturally someone made way for him, some nodded and some shook their heads.

"I don't know which family's son it is, but he has a good skin, I hope you don't make a fool of yourself!"

"For such a person, if there is something in his stomach, I think it's probably a clown."

"Oh, brother, what you said is wrong. I think this man is very imposing, unlike that ignorant person."

It is not that simple to fall into Miss Lingyu's eyes.I didn't know how many pretentious people returned home without a feather.

I don't know if the boy in white in front of me can have a good work.

If Jing Zhou is really talented and enters the Luhua Pavilion, they will have the capital to brag, and they will share the honor and disgrace when talking about this matter with others.

Everyone saw that Jing Zhou walked up to the Four Treasures of the Study, put the fan on the table, held the pen, dipped it in ink, and wrote without thinking: "A little bit of plantain sounds green."

Just as Jing Zhou finished writing this sentence, an octogenarian man next to him looked happy, shook his head, and couldn't help shouting: "Miao ah Miao ah", with an expression as if these words were written by him.

The few people nearby heard the old man's excited words, and couldn't help thinking: "I only wrote seven characters, how wonderful is it? Could it be that I am so ignorant that I don't understand the implications of this?"

They couldn't see what was going on, but they were too embarrassed to open their mouths to ask, so they could only frown and look carefully.Otherwise, wouldn't it be telling everyone that I have little talent and learning, and I don't understand the beauty of this.

"May I ask Mr. Li what is so wonderful about this?"

After all, someone was itching in his heart and couldn't help asking. Those who were not familiar with the old man were embarrassed to ask, but those who knew each other had no worries.

"If you want me to say, the young man's thin golden body has already been passed down to the nine points of Weizong's true biography. His writing is thin and vigorous, and he is graceful and graceful. He vaguely calls himself a school. The writing is really wonderful."

The old man pulled his beard and shook his head with an intoxicated look on his face.

The old man's explanation almost stunned the young people in front of him. They were thinking about how well the poem was written, but the old man was looking at the well-written words. They were not thinking about the same thing at all.

At that moment, they also calmed down to look at Jing Zhou's handwriting, and they really felt that his thin golden body was extremely beautiful.

A few characters on the rice paper are hidden in the folds, revealing their arrogance, as if cutting gold and jade.

This thin gold body sword is slanted, it is more difficult to practice, difficult to learn and difficult to master, it is rare to see anyone using this font.

It's not that the font is not beautiful, on the contrary, compared with the solemnity of the Yan and Liu body, this thin gold body has the rhyme of bamboo orchid, sonorous and powerful, and the strokes are like swords, more elegant and beautiful.

However, since Emperor Weizong of Song Dynasty, few people can write beautiful Shoujin Lian.

Moreover, the font of a subjugated emperor is not favored by the imperial examination.

Suddenly someone felt that no matter how good Jing Zhou's poems were, just relying on his handwriting, he might not be able to win the favor of Lingyan girl. Perhaps, tonight, the beauty embraced by this white-clothed boy will really return.

Regardless of the words of others, Jing Zhou wrote a new stroke as soon as he wrote it, and then wrote: "The sound reminds me of the past. I want to sleep and show the old books. The small characters of the mandarin ducks are still unfamiliar with my hands. The tired eyes are suddenly low and confused. Looking at it again, it is blurry. The cold rain on the quiet window and the lonely lamp, it is expected that the love will be exhausted, but is there any love?"

"This this..."