Transmigrating to the Ming Dynasty’s Imperial Examination

The Shen Family Courtyard was built on the halfway of Yuegu Mountain, with sparsely populated people and quiet scenery. When he arrived at the entrance of the villa, Cui Xie sent Cui Yuan and his sons to go to the mountains to go up and play, put up the drawing box, and participate in the poetry meeting with classmates.

Biezhuang is surrounded by clear streams, with winding corridors and pavilions, and full of red maple and yellow poplars surrounding tall and elegant buildings. The flower garden is full of hydrangea-like yellow chrysanthemums and white chrysanthemums, and red peonies, purple gold ribbons, big red lion balls, turtledove feathers, faded white and other famous products are planted in pottery pots under the corridor.

The scorching autumn flowers are full of trees, clouds and red leaves, shaking the autumn love. There is also a maid in a red shirt and white dress that shuttles between the flowers, her face blushing because of her busy schedule, she is more than Hua Jiao. The students are full of talents and poems.

Brother Yue is half the owner of this villa. Seeing the scenery, he is more interested than others. On the way to the garden with his classmates, he couldn't help chanting a poem: "Chongyang Yard has planted chrysanthemums, and the autumn mud on the path is still fragrant. The old leaves and frost flowers are worthy of appreciation, and they are cut into a new sentence for the mountain field. The grass and trees do not know the sorrow..."

As they approached the Moon Gate, everyone suddenly heard a faint chanting sound from inside: "...A few flowers of Qingshuang are clean by the edge of the water, and the setting sun is slanting outwards. It is a deep relief for Ru Qiu, and a wine chat for companionship. Poet."

Although it was only four sentences, the artistic conception in the poem was so lonely and far-reaching that it overshadowed Brother Yue's poem, and he was embarrassed to finish reading it.

His people were also a little sad, and stopped to walk in the courtyard. The poet in the courtyard didn't mean to hit him. He walked out quickly and asked, "Which friend is chanting poems outside? It's the poetry that disturbed my friend."

A few young scholars in their twenties and thirties walked out from behind the moon gate. The poet chanting walked in the forefront, and a look of surprise appeared on his face when he saw them.

Next to him, a tall student with a beautiful face and a darker complexion came out to pull Senior Brother Yue, smiled and introduced to everyone: "This is my aunt's cousin Yue Su, these young friends are his classmates, and they are all in the right place. Brother is studying under the seat, and came here today to meet the world."

Several children hurriedly saluted, and Shen Yi pointed to the scholar who chanted poems and said: "This is our most famous talent in Qian'an, Guo Yongguo Tiaoyang. This is Tang Ning Tang Changping, the head of trial in Ding Youke County. Yu Qi Yu Zixing of Yi Qi Fu, Huang Tai Zhang Ji and Zhang Bozhi..."

Several scholars were not a few years older, but they all looked at them with a tolerant look like those of younger generations and smiled at them, and said with a smile: "It turns out that it is a student of Brother Shi, so it is about the same as our students."

Guo Yong also mentioned Yue Su by the way, picking out the problems with the crane knee, bee waist, and upper tail in his poem. He also taught him to focus on poems when composing poems, focusing on artistic conception, rhyme, and rhyme, and poems with unobstructed qi and veins are living poems. Those pieces and pieces that only meet the metric are not considered top grade.

Yue Su was tempted to hear it, and his simple and honest face showed a look of admiration, and he forgot to be ashamed of his talented poems. The other children also looked at Guo Xiucai eagerly, wishing to hear him compose some good poems.

The master Shen Yi laughed and said, "If we want to teach, don’t teach here. Let’s sit at the table first. I have asked someone to prepare freshly squeezed chrysanthemum wine. Crab, he also asked people to invite the three daughters of Fang Wen and Liu's family. Later, when we are playing poems, we will ask them to drink some wine, and whoever does it well will let him choose someone to sing."

The eyes of several scholars were bright, and they began to think about sentences, hoping to win the first prize later.

Only Guo Yong was calm as usual, or he had already made up his mind. When others were full of good poems and convinced the audience, he could still think of these elementary school students and ask them on their own initiative: Poetry, or a pair? When you come to the poetry club, you should have a victory or defeat. We are not as good as the students, but we can be a judge for them, and the good ones can also be sung by people."

The little friends also hope that the poems they composed can be sung by beauties. Since last month, they have racked their brains to prepare for this poem meeting. Naturally, they all want to compose poems.

Because the scholars in this yard are all Tsing Yi square scarves, and the children are white Confucian scarves, only Cui Xie wears a jade gown and a Liuhe cap-I haven't tried it, so I can only wear variegated children-Guo Yong also specifically asked Cui Xie: "My little friend has been in school for a few years, can I write poetry?"

He lowered his head, just when he saw Cui Xie holding a bookcase of magnetic blue paper in his hand, he asked: "Are you still carrying a book when you come to Ceng Gao Qiuyou? You are a studious man."

Cui Xie lowered his head and said humbly: "It's not a book, it's a few poems. It's not a good idea to write poems in late life. I'm here today just to record the best quotes from your seniors and bring it back to my classmate Zhao Yinglin. "

Shen Yu laughed and said, "Well, when we compose poems, we have to have a supervisory officer. Whoever is good will write it down on the paper. If it is bad, it will be offended. But you don’t need to prepare this paper. Bring you paper and pen. Walk around, I will take you to the table."

The banquet was held in the garden of Cui's family. The scholars who had been quite a long time sat on the banquet. Several charming prostitutes were playing pipa and lisizhu there, speaking with them. Shen Xun took Guo Yong and the others over, and the prostitutes, regardless of the survivors, got up to greet them and looked at the group of young scholars shyly.

The middle-aged scholar in the guest seat smiled and said: "Oh, when young people come, no one of us old men wants it."

Shen Yue smiled and said: "Brother Xu is not annoyed, ask Brother Guo to come and sit here, and the beauties will naturally follow."

He arranged the talents in the atrium, and the children could only sit in the vice seats under the porch, and the two sides were very distinct. His own cousin didn't call to the table either, but asked him to entertain the classmates he had brought.

Shen Yi pointed to a prostitute who went to sit with the Confucian boys and chanted their poems later.

Although the prostitute was a little reluctant to bear the talent, after sitting over and looking at a group of shy and jerky teenagers, as well as the particularly pleasing Cui Xie, that unsatisfactory disappeared. She squeezed to Cui Xie's side and asked them with a smile: "How do you call the little magistrates? Can you listen to Nunu sing a little song to persuade him to drink?" She wanted to fight Cui Xie.

A few classmates thought that others had a tender face and couldn't bear it, so they sacrificed their bodies and pushed him out of the table. Fortunately, this half of Yue Su's master was qualified, and he was pulled from the outside, so that he was not directly squeezed to the ground.

However, he hadn't stood still, and there was a familiar, vaguely angry cry from behind: "What are you doing!"

Yue Su's face paled and he withdrew his hand sloppily. Cui Xie almost fell to his knees, holding the corner of the table and shaking it a few times before he stood firm. Several classmates were desperately sitting upright, afraid to have any contact with the singing son and daughter.

Cui Xie looked back, but saw Mr. Lin's beard and halberd, and he looked at Wang Luo's senior brothers angrily. The master Shen Yi and a few older scholars went up to greet them. Mr. Lin watched his friends' face temporarily spared them, but the children also bowed their heads, blushed, and did not dare to make any more trouble.

shock! Elementary school students go privately in a weathered place, but they see teachers and organizers chatting and laughing in the meeting. Is there anything more embarrassing than this?

Of course there is.

That is, the teacher also pulled him out of the many criticized students alone as a model of morality, and pulled out two words of praise. And he clicked on their names and said, "Yue Su, Cui Xie, you two are sensible, please pull those **** up for me!"

A few children stood up in a restrained manner, and the master of Shen Yu hurriedly rounded up the field, smiling: "I am not good, and a young lady is incongruous to serve them. A few little friends sit down, and you will have more later. Make a poem, don’t frighten the poem."

Mr. Lin snorted coldly: "What poems would they make, but that's nonsense!"

Guo Yong said a good thing for them: "Why not? When we were in the outer courtyard, we heard several young friends composing poems. There are still some merits. Although Cui Gongzi can't do it, he said he would like to do it for us. Supervisor, if you copy the poem well, Brother Shi will spare them this time."

Mr. Lin couldn't refute the face of the scholar's friends, so he snorted twice, not caring about them for the time being, and told them to go back and copy "University" ten times at night-Cui Xie and Yue Su didn't have to copy both of them.

Envy and Youhuan's eyes all fell on the two of them immediately, staring at their robes.

Shen Yu laughed and said: "Since everyone is here, let's write a poem first, and then choose the poet chief to come to the banquet. Brother Su greets your little friends on my behalf. Since this son Cui is the supervisor, Come to the front table and prepare to copy poetry."

Mr. Lin said: "I am old, so I don't want to fight with you talented people, so I will be a magistrate today."

Everyone came to compose poems, and no one argued with him about this. He got up and said to the scholars: "Since it is the Double Ninth Day, we should compose a poem on the Double Ninth Festival. Don't perfuse old works."

The prostitutes also laughed and begged these talents to make good poems for themselves. No matter how talented children are, they are full of energy under the attention of beauties, spreading paper and pen with confidence.

The maid of the Shen family set the seal incense timer, and gave Cui Xie pen and ink and delicate colored paper for him to copy the masterpiece. Cui Xie refused to ask for it. Instead, he pointed to the paper box and said, "I have my own paper, and I have sister Lao."

Mr. Lin was sitting on the main table, not far from him. He saw a book case on his table and asked, "What book are you bringing? Could it be that you haven't finished the homework?"

No, I brought such a big box to pretend to be forced, just to wait for someone to ask.

Cui Xie looked down and smiled and said: "Mr. Hui, this is the newly made chrysanthemum note in my bookstore. The disciple felt that it was more suitable to copy the Chongyang Poem with chrysanthemum note and brought it specially."

"Chrysanthemum paper?" The people on the guest table were not in a hurry to write poems, but they looked at the box with interest: "Could it be that paper with chrysanthemums printed on it? It is elegant and elegant. Let's take it out and take a look at the paper. How about the chrysanthemum, is it worthy of this Qian'an talented chrysanthemum poem."

Cui Xie responded altogether and turned the box over, revealing a bunch of drawing notes, holding one end in each hand, and slowly unfolding it from right to left.

What was exposed at first was an empty paper dyed tooth yellow with natural watermarks at the corners. Shen Yi also teased: "If it's just dyed with a yellow color, it won't be considered a scribble. This kind of paper is not worthy of the words of our county's top talent."

Everyone looked at Guo Yong and smiled. He seemed to be a little shy. He lowered his eyes and said, "I think this paper is too big, and the chrysanthemum is printed in the corner, and it hasn't been exposed yet."

The drawing paper continued to unfold, revealing a little light green skirt corner, autumn-colored t-shirt, Mr. Lin's smile narrowed slightly, revealing a little surprise, and he doubted: "Is this painted by someone in your shop? It was actually on the paper. It takes a lot of work to paint, but it is a bit extravagant."

Cui Xie's finger made a mistake, and the entire drawing was unfolded, revealing a beautiful woman with a white chrysanthemum in her hand. Now it is not just Mr. Lin, the master Shen Yu and guest of honor Guo Yong and other talented talents who have seen many handed down calligraphy and paintings can't help but stand up and wonder: "Whose painting is this? Such a painting. Actually used it as a paper?"

He then raised his head, smiled slightly to everyone, and explained unhurriedly: "The late father is just a poor Beijing official. How can he be extravagant enough to ask someone to paint as a note? This was given by Mr. Meng Lin some days before his death. A volume of good essays from Beijing was specially matched to one of the chrysanthemum poems. Because the painting is suitable for Chongyang Ninth Festival, the artisans in the shop were asked to print it out as a pastime without much material and effort."

He opened the roll of drawing notes, each gave one, pointing to the little poem next to the beautiful picture, and said: "It is this poem that I really love in my late birth, and the chanting is insufficient, so I thought it was a note."

No one can even care about reading the poem. Just looking at the beauty next to the poem, they can’t move their eyes. After a long while, someone sighs, “Where is the chrysanthemum paper? This is clearly a beauty paper!”

Mr. Lin almost squeezed the paper, and managed to control his strength. He coughed lightly and asked: "Who did you learn to paint from? Who did you learn to make paper, how can you print such gorgeous color paintings? Could it be the law in Beijing?"

This is not right. Although Qian'an is located in a remote area, close to the mountain and seaside guards, it is also in Beizhili anyway. It is not difficult to travel between things in Beijing. The Nanjian Beijian he used to buy has never been so exquisite and beautiful, not like a human thing.

Cui Xie simply said: "The disciple learned the painting from Lu Juren in Jiangxi, but I can't make the paper. It's just that I temporarily wanted to make the paper and asked the craftsmen to try it out. They printed it like this."

......What kind of master craftsman is that! Mr. Lin's heart trembled a little, and he could only sigh, "You deserve to be a craftsman in the doctor's house", and then asked him: "Do you have a name on this note?"

Cui Xie shook his head: "It's chrysanthemum paper, Chongyang paper, etc., just call it at will. But the person in this painting is the monster Wanning encountered by Jinyang scholar Fang Ning, or is it just called Wanning paper?"

Guo Yong suddenly spoke, and said with a sense of sigh: "If you can print such colored paper drawn in fine brushwork, why not care what picture is drawn on the paper and when it should be? I see yours. Cui Jian is the most suitable one. After today, the two Beijing and 13 provinces will be competing to buy Cui Jian!"

The author has something to say: Guo Yong’s poem is taken from Ming Dynasty Poems, Wu Yipeng "Seeing the Chrysanthemum after the Holiday"

It has been more than ten days since the Chongyang Festival before I saw the flowers of the chrysanthemum. Tired of offerings to the common folks, staying alone with the indifferent poetry.

A few Qingshuang flowers are clean at the edge of the water, and the setting sun is slanting outward. For Ru Qiu, I feel so relieved and have a hearty chat with black yarn.

Adjusted the end of the poem

The scholars in the foreign history of the Confucian scholars are called friends, children are called friends, and scholars do not talk to children