"Congratulations to Senior Brother Song for winning this battle!"

Song Jiexi smirked: "Luckily, I didn't expect to meet someone who is better than me." Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ”

"Senior Brother Song is not modest, your words are in their own way, over time, I am afraid you can become everyone."

Mei Xueyan is a little envious of this good hand, not only Song Jiexi, any Xiucai here is better than her, her words are no different from those of a two-year-old child.

"If my hand was okay, I would have been kicked out of the county school by Feng Yuanjun a long time ago!"

I don't know if Song Jiexi is humble or proud, anyway, he always talks with his eyebrows and his face is bright.

The county school and the Lin school climbed and bitten, and the score reached 9 to 9, leaving only Mei Xueyan and Qian Liang in the last group.

"Qian Liang, do you have the bottom?"

The people in the Lin Academy whispered, and Qian Liang's expression was relaxed.

"The day before yesterday, I pondered and thought about it, and occasionally got a good sentence, it is impossible to win the poetry of the talented man of the Ma family, but I am still completely sure of a child."

"That's good, the self-study hall hung her frame, even our talents are gloomy, this time you are so angry with her sharpness, so that she knows to converge!"

"Everyone, look at it! If I can't win as a child, I'll just hit a steamed bun to death. ”

Qian Liang and the other students are already celebrating the final victory, and this last battle is a huge disparity, and it seems that the overall situation has been decided. The masters of the Lin Academy also breathed a sigh of relief, as long as the county magistrate's side was not biased, they would win. The Lin Academy rarely overwhelms the county school, and this opportunity is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!

"The nineteenth scene, Mei Xueyan of the county school against Qian Liang of the Lin school!"

Mei Xueyan straightened her clothes and stood up, her gestures were neither rude nor too restrained, as if she was taking a leisurely walk, at least she could stabilize her position in Xiucai.

"I've seen the county magistrate, Feng Yuanjun, all the masters."

Wu Xianling couldn't wait to say, "Let's start." ”

"Senior Brother Qian, please."

"Please."

Qian Liang picked up the pen and began to write without much thought, this poem was something he had thought about a long time ago, and it should have been pressed, which not only expressed rigor, but also indicated that it was made on the spot, but he couldn't hold it back.

"If I win the county school this time, the father and son will definitely take credit for me!"

Mei Xueyan was familiar with the pen and ink, and she was not in a hurry to write it down, she had tens of millions of poems in her chest, and they were all poems in her heart, and sooner or later she would let these treasures be praised in the world, and at this time she would choose what she wanted at this time.

The goose feathers and heavy snow are still blowing, and many carriages are parked outside the pavilion, and the coachmen dare not enter the carriage to hide from the snow, so they all shrink outside, but they all have a car cover to cover it, and Uncle Zhao curled up under the carriage, as if he saw Mei Xueyan looking at him, and waved his hand to this side with a smile.

Mei Xueyan made a decision.

"Sell charcoal, cut down and burn charcoal in the southern mountains."

She is still very rusty with the pen, and the font is still unsatisfactory.

The person in charge of the recitation on the side stretched his neck, and saw the two sentences on Mei Xueyan's paper, which was a little strange.

"Mei's case, the poem is either a quatrain or a rhythmic poem, you don't meet the specifications."

Mei Xueyan smiled and thanked her, but there was no change.

The person who recited it wanted to remind her, but his voice was already coming, and almost everyone around him heard it.

"Hahaha, she doesn't even know how to write poems, right?"

Quite a few people burst into laughter, and a few stood up to see what she was writing.

"Don't talk nonsense, I heard that the poem she wrote in the township test was on the first grade, and Feng Yuanjun liked it very much, so she copied it again and hung it in the study!"

"So what? Who doesn't have a flash of inspiration, maybe the questions of the township exam happen to be what she wrote before, and even ...... It is not known whether it was ghostwritten by someone else. ”

"It's not appropriate for you to say that, it's too much."

"Who knows? Anyway, the township examination papers are handed over to the Academy of Literature for archiving, and we can't see it. ”

Mei Xueyan turned a deaf ear to these discussions, her writing book was average, and it would be even more ugly if she was distracted.

As soon as Qian Liang heard that something had gone wrong on Mei Xueyan's side, he was overjoyed, Tong Sheng was really a Tong Sheng, Feng Yuanjun temporarily asked her to compose poems, but I was afraid that the time was too short, and she hadn't thought about it yet, so she had to write half of it.

The speed of writing was a little faster, and he finished writing a total of four lines of poetry in a moment.

"The student finished writing."

Qian Liang stepped aside, the person in charge of the recitation picked up the paper, read it aloud, and got a lot of applause, most of them were from the Lin Academy, this is the key one, regardless of whether the poem is good or not, first suppress the other party in momentum, so that Wu County Order can not be favoritism.

On the county school side, there was some slackness, shaking his head and sighing, it was really a shame for the government to run the school and lose to the private school.

"Ah, it's all to blame on this Mei Xueyan!"

Ma Jinjun couldn't help but scream, put the wine glass on the table, and the fruit wine spilled out.

"Jun'er, don't make any noise in public, have you forgotten the etiquette that your brother taught you?"

"Brother, you could have won!" Ma Jinjun said in a coquettish voice, "Feng Yuanjun is really, if I didn't pull this Mei Xueyan in, I would know how much talent a woman can learn, and she dragged you down." ”

"Win or lose, it's none of your business."

Ma Jinqi said indifferently, but his brows frowned slightly, so that Ma Jinjun didn't dare to argue, and felt a little comforted in his heart: Yes, no one in Lin'an County is dissatisfied with my brother's talent, even if the county school loses this time, it doesn't mean that my brother is worse than them.

Shen Ziwen couldn't help but laugh when he saw that everyone was applauding Qian Liang, and Mei Xueyan seemed to have a problem.

"Alas...... I also hope that the head of the Mei case will raise his eyebrows for this class of children, it's a pity. ”

Shen Ziwen pretended to be sorry, but he was very happy in his heart, since Mei Xueyan was born, he has been unfavorable in everything, and this is really a relief.

In the midst of the noise, Mei Xueyan also finished writing, but everyone celebrated and abused, and no one cared about her.

Feng Qiumo saw her stop writing, while the reciter stood aside and did not move.

"Read it!"

Only then did the reciter remember this stubble, and took the paper and read it aloud.

"Sell charcoal, cut down and burn charcoal in the southern mountains. His face was full of dust and smoke, and his temples were pale and his fingers were black. ”

Sure enough, the format is weird, the last two sentences are correct, probably by the reciter to mention it, but the verses are not bad, not particularly outstanding, the key is that Wu County Ling said, the theme is best written in the late spring and winter scenery, which is in line with the word "melting snow", what is the matter with her writing an old man who burns charcoal and sells?

The reciter continues to read the sermon.

"What is the business of selling charcoal to get money, and the clothes on your body and the food in your mouth."

The originally lively Wenhui suddenly quieted down strangely, and Wu Xianling's face was neither angry nor happy, as if he was thoughtful. And those students also fell silent, involuntarily reciting these words.

Ma Jinjun didn't know why everyone was suddenly silent, and asked softly: "Brother, how is her poem?" ”

Ma Jinqi didn't answer, just listened intently to the last two sentences of the reciter.

"The poor shirt is single, and I am worried about the cold."

These two lines of poetry are like a morning bell and dusk drum in Zhongshan Temple, ringing heavily in the crowd, deafening.

The reciter suddenly choked up and couldn't say anything, and hurriedly wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes with his sleeve.

The poor shirt is single, and the heart is worried and wishes that the weather is cold!

Wu Xianling and Feng Qiumo glanced at each other, and they both saw the solemnity in each other's eyes, Wu Xianling is a parent official, and he should protect the people to live and work in peace and contentment, these two poems are like embroidery needles, pierced on the tip of his heart.

Rich disciples do not touch the spring water with their fingers, naturally they never understand, there are still old men in the world who sell charcoal, in the cold winter wax moon, the villagers still have to work hard, Rao is so, they are still difficult to eat, the snow clothes are thin, but the old man who sells charcoal hopes that the weather will be more severe and cold, so he can sell some charcoal.

There are many poor students here, they all bow their heads, thinking of their own situation, their parents work hard, do not complain, only diligently, just to support them to go to school, looking forward to the day to get ahead.

They have eaves to shelter and a hearth to keep warm, and at this time, Uncle Zhao, who sells charcoal, is cowing under the ox cart, stepping on the muddy snow water, which makes the scholars feel that their faces are hot, as if they have been slapped in the face.

Strange to say, when the last sentence was recited, the heavy snow suddenly stopped.

"The Snow Melting Meeting, I really stopped the snow......"

Wu Xianling said in a daze, this poem seems to be inconsistent with the theme of snowmelt, but in fact, it can't be more consistent with the idea.

Several students consciously stood up and ran to the ox cart to ask Uncle Zhao to take shelter from the storm.

Old man Zhao was suddenly shocked to see these students suddenly becoming polite and polite, this attitude was completely different, so that even if he sat next to the stove, he was like sitting on pins and needles.

"Well, the children are teachable."

Feng Qiumo suddenly nodded with relief, and the students' performance made him feel that all these years of thought had not been in vain.

The literary meeting was enthusiastic again in vain, all the students couldn't sit still, and even gathered around to discuss, and from time to time the poems of "The Charcoal Seller" came, and there was no need to vote again to win or lose, and the judgment was made.

Seeing that everyone was talking about Mei Xueyan, Shen Ziwen was not sitting or standing, and it was even more difficult than Uncle Zhao.

Ma Jinjun sighed, this literary meeting was hosted by the Ma family, and Ma Jinqi should be in the spotlight, but Mei Xueyan stole all the limelight.

"Brother, I think this poem is very ordinary, the rhetoric is cheesy, it's just that it is written about an old man who burns charcoal, why do you praise her?"

Ma Jinqi came back to his senses and looked at Mei Xueyan with interest in his eyes, which was a kind of recognition.

"She deserves to win, Lin'an County finally has someone who can compare with me, and this meeting is worth it."

Wu Xian Ling suddenly stood up from his seat, Feng Qiumo's face suddenly changed, his eyes widened and he hurriedly rushed over, but he was a step late, after all, he was old and clumsy, not as good as Wu Xian Ling, a middle-aged tiger wolf.

Wu Xianling smiled with a wrinkled face, and took the original manuscript of "The Charcoal Seller" into his arms.

"Wu Xiao'er! What are you doing? Hand in the poems! ”

Wu Xian Ling laughed, patted his chest and put it away.

"Feng Lao, this poem is deeply loved by me, so I laughed at it, I am ready to frame it and collect it, always reminding me to hold the government with 'benevolence' and put the people first, so don't rob me."