In Nanjing, in a small red brick building, a girl is looking out the window at the winter rain in a daze. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

It must be cold outside, right?

The girl thought.

The room was as warm as spring, the walls everywhere were steaming hot, and the beast gold furnace on a rosewood table spewed wisps of fragrance, refreshing people's hearts.

"Miss, Miss, I'm overjoyed. A girl ran upstairs and shouted with a piece of paper.

"Daxi, what's there to be happy about?" the girl turned her face, even though it was only half face, it was enough to fall into the city.

"Our aunt has become a great talent. Yahuan was red due to the fierce running.

"Our uncle, do you mean what's more?"

"Who else is there besides him, where is there anyone else in the young lady's heart?"

"Nonsense, besides, it's not our uncle, maybe who's from it. By the way, what are you talking about?"

This girl is Zuo Ling, she has just arrived in Nanjing, and she is busy taking over the pharmacy shops in Nanjing and Suzhou, and now this is her industry.

Although everything is taken care of by the housekeeper, and she doesn't want to bother with it, these things have to be done in her heart, so that she knows it in her heart, especially the accounts of each medicine hall, and the truth will not be clear for a while.

She wanted to go straight to Suzhou, but after arriving in Nanjing, she was stumped by miscellaneous things, and only after sorting out the things at hand could she go to Suzhou to see what's more, anyway, she had already settled down in Nanjing, and she was not in a hurry.

"Our uncle's poems are famous, and they are spreading throughout the city of Nanjing. ”

"What poem?" Zuo Ling didn't go to correct Yahuan's slip of the tongue.

Originally, the word "uncle" of our family was just some people in the Zuo family who sarcastically mocked Zuo Ling, but Zuo Ling didn't care at all, and even used it very much, and slowly these girls around her were also called like this.

"If life is only as first seen, what is the autumn wind and sad fan. ......" Zuo Ling only read the first sentence, and people were stupid.

Isn't this sentence written to me?

What is holding us back? It's not the autumn wind. It's not like I'm abandoned because I'm old and outdated, we've never been together at all, you can really imagine. It is the law of the Ming Dynasty that stands in our way!

I really can't complain about Zuo Ling's self-inflicted affection, she is indeed affectionate, but anyone who has affection, can she not think of herself when she reads such a sentence?

Although this poem is copied by hand, and there is no specific object, anyone who reads it can arouse strong resonance, empathy, and sadness and joy. That's why this poem is so powerful.

Resonance, resonance with all readers, that's the magic of great work.

"Miss, does our aunt think about what you want to make such a good poem? "Yahuan Wu helped the young lady to be affectionate.

But besides, I really want to think about Zuo Ling, not an ordinary thought, but the kind of longing that I dare not think about, feel hopeless when I think about it, but I can't control it, like calling to the sky, in exchange for only emptiness and indifference.

"Is he coming to Nanjing?" asked Zuo Ling.

"No, I heard that the poem was written in Suzhou, and it spread all over the city within a few days. ”

"Oh, you go down. Zuo Ling waved his hand, and his mood was like the winter rain outside, and it was a little messy.

"Miss, just send people away, don't you give some silver?" Yahuan stretched out her little hand and laughed.

Zuo Ling casually opened an antique small drawer on the dresser, took out a piece of silver about two or three taels, threw it to Yahuan, and said with a smile: "Take your day off and take a good look at Nanjing City." ”

"Hee-hee. Yahuan took the silver and went down happily, ready to visit the famous Xuanwu Lake.

Besides, I'm here, as I said, no matter where you are, I will follow in your footsteps and stay by your side, this is my fate, and it's yours, and no one can hide from it.

Reading the poem, a passion surged in Zuo Ling's heart.

"Haha, boy, I didn't expect the chess to be so good, and the poems to be so beautiful. You see, this is a poem made by my junior brother, and he has become a great poet. ”

On the Yinluan Hall of the Zhongshan Palace, the little prince waved the manuscript of the poem copied in his hand, laughed, and showed it to the attendants on the left and right.

"Master, is this your junior brother the one we protected last time?" asked a sturdy and graceful waitress.

Besides, if you can recognize her here, she is the leader of the female bodyguards, but he never dared to ask what her surname was, for fear of causing unnecessary trouble.

"Exactly, there were still some people at that time who felt that it was not worth it for us to protect him, how about it, now let's keep his reputation. With such a junior brother, I also had a light on my face, and I gave an order to give a reward to all the people who protected my junior brother at that time. ”

"Everyone?" the waitress chuckled in her heart, this is a bit of a lot.

"Everyone, if not one falls, the reward will be taken from my account, and some people in the province will chirp crookedly. ”

The little prince was happy, and he wanted to say a few more words, so he was called by Wei Guogong, who also held a copy of the poem manuscript in his hand, and said with a smile: "Have you read it?"

"I've seen it. The little prince's face was full of joy.

"Your junior brother has only been in the business for a few days, and his achievements are so high, what about you, you have been taught by the old master since you were a child, and this gap is a bit big. Wei Guogong said lightly.

"You can't compare it like this, that kid is a demon, not an ordinary person. The little prince felt that the Tao was not good, and hurriedly defended.

"The stupid bird has to fly first. "Wei Guogong is kind and seductive.

"This ...... Our meritorious family does not participate in the imperial examination, so why do you study hard?"

"The way of the sage is not for the imperial examination, the core of the poem is to expound the sage's truth, to establish a life for the people, and to open peace for all generations, does this have anything to do with the imperial examination? Don't think that our meritorious children are just eating, drinking, and having fun. ”

The little prince peeked at his father, and muttered in his heart: What's wrong with the old man, he is stimulated? We can't compete with a poet in the Zhongshan Palace, not to mention that this poet is still my junior brother.

"Your old teachings have been memorized by your son. He didn't dare to look up, and his legs were a little weak.

"Well, go back to retreat for a month, sort out all the previous homework, and then wait for me to test you, if you pass, it's fine, if you don't pass, you will be confined for half a year. Wei Guogong said calmly.

The little prince sat on the ground with his butt and wailed in his heart: Bastard boy, you hurt people a lot.

The first batch of poems that arrived in Nanjing were copied by Zhang Xuecheng and these staff, and then secretly opened the city gate overnight and let the messenger send them out.

The reactions of the people who received the poems varied, some wailed, some vomited blood, some demented, and several poets who had been famous for many years were silent after reading it, slowly stood up, broke the pen on the table, and buckled the inkstone back. Sighing and sulking at the same time.

I couldn't write the poem, and there was an insurmountable mountain in front of me, so I had to close my pen.

"Don't let people live, this still tells us how to do poetry? The road is blocked. In the Nanjing Guozi Prison, a middle-aged poet wailed.

"Copyed, this must be copied, a seventeen-year-old child could not write such a stunning masterpiece. He immediately started to look for all Tang poems, all Song poems, and all Yuan poems, but he didn't look for the two Jin and Northern and Southern Dynasties, because the language style was not from that period.

"Check, you must find out. "This man planted himself in the pile of old papers, and searched for them one by one.

There are already five people who have the same idea as him, and they are also carefully looking for them in the whole Tang poems, all Song poems, and all Yuan poems. If the plagiarism problem is really discovered, even if it is imitation, there are certain traces, they can still take a breath, if it is really a living poet, and it was written by a seventeen-year-old boy, how can these big names in the poetry world still have the face to live, and jump directly into the Qinhuai River.

Some people searched more thoroughly, and even the notes and histories of the Tang, Song and Yuan dynasties were checked one by one to prevent any omissions.

Their feelings are very different from those of ordinary readers, who are just moved and amazed, but what they see in their eyes is a majestic peak towering in front of them.

The manuscript of the poem was first transmitted from Suzhou to Nanjing, and soon to Changzhou, Hangzhou, Xiaoshan, Huating and other places, and soon spread throughout the land south of the Yangtze River and the northern provinces, just like the European continent after the publication of "War and Peace", when all the novelists vomited blood, were silent, and wanted to commit suicide, because of the appearance of the giant Tolstoy, there was no way to write novels, the road ahead was broken, and the mountain road was extinct.

In the center of Nanjing's Guozijian, in a miniature palace-like building, several long-bearded Confucian masters are meeting to discuss the manuscript of poetry.

"When did this poem arrive?" asked an old man with a gray beard on the first seat, who was Meng Fanjun, the sacrificial wine of the Nanjing Guozijian.

"An hour ago, according to reliable sources, this poem was written yesterday afternoon, and we were the first people to receive it. A middle-aged teacher replied. Although he is middle-aged, his hair and beard are also half white, which is obviously caused by too much reading and excessive effort.

"What do you think of this poem?" Meng Fanjun asked.

"Good, of course it's good, although it's not as good as Li Yishan, but it also has the essence of Yishan. An old man praised.

Li Yishan is the great poet Li Shangyin of the Tang Dynasty, his untitled poems contain infinite hazy artistic conceptions, and they are truly inexhaustible in short poems, and there is only one person in the history of Chinese poetry. Li Yishan has been passed down from generation to generation, and it has opened a precedent for hazy poetry in later generations.

These people are all masters of ancient literature, not poets, and their feelings are more objective, and they are not as fierce or even radical as the poets. But they also affirmed the artistic value of the poem.

As Ouyang Xiu, the leader of the Northern Song Dynasty literary circle and teacher of Su Shi, said: Articles are like fine gold and jade, with their own pricing, and they don't wait for others to say it. It's the same with poetry.

"Lord Sacrificial Wine, this is a good seedling, you must recruit us to the South Prison, you can't miss it. One of the teachers said enthusiastically.

"Good seedlings, everyone has become a towering tree, is such a character still willing to come to our south prison for further study?" said another teacher.

Meng Fanjun stroked the long hair that fluttered on his chest, and then said, "Some of you may not know yet, but in fact, this is already our Southern Prison." ”