The needles in the Chengqing Hall where hundreds of officials gathered could be heard, and even the musicians next to them stopped their movements and waited quietly.

Father-in-law Jia held the tray, walked down the steps lightly, came to Qi Xinghan, and handed it out with both hands.

Qi Xinghan's eyelids jumped, and he suddenly felt that he had been provoked by the Son of Heaven, but as a speech official and the arrogance in the bones of a literati, how could there be a reason to take it back when he said it, he didn't believe that there were still people who could shock him speechless with three poems.

In the eyes of countless people, Qi Xinghan raised his hand to pick up the poem manuscript in the tray and looked at it seriously.

“……”

The emotions of the guests in the hall were aroused, and they were all waiting anxiously, even Mrs. Lu raised her ripe cheeks slightly and looked ahead, and her beautiful face stood out among the flowers, like a gorgeous peony blooming among the flowers.

Song Yufu is the opposite, eager to bury her head in her chest.

Xiao Chuyang and others have more skills, but they observe Qi Xinghan's face, as long as they show a little clue, they can basically guess the result.

What many generals didn't expect was that Qi Xinghan, who had always been old-fashioned and serious, had an unusually wonderful face.

Qi Xinghan held a thin manuscript of poetry, and at first he looked at it with a little scrutiny, just like examining the answer sheets of younger students.

It's just that Qi Xinghan was stunned for a moment, and squinted slightly, obviously surprised.

Next, he touched his beard, muttered silently, and nodded his head from time to time.

After looking at it for a while, Qi Xinghan secretly raised the corner of his eyes and glanced at the Son of Heaven, with a little doubt.

Qi Xinghan didn't speak, and the guests present waited for a long time, but they were all a little anxious and began to whisper.

Song Ji saw that it was about the same time, smiled and asked softly: "Gong Qi, how are these three poems?" ”

This 'Qi Gong' obviously has a ridiculous meaning.

Born as a speech official, one is one, two is two, if it is for the sake of face, then it is not called 'Qi Lao Pifu'.

Qi Xinghan's face sank like water, and he held the poem manuscript in both hands and read it for a long time before he coughed lightly and brewed a little:

"Hmm...... These three poems...... Indeed, he deserves to be 'talented', and he will definitely be famous in the future. But the poems are well written, and they are ...... for the government to govern the country."

"Wow-"

Before he finished speaking, there was a noise in the hall, and even Xiao Chuyang, who was not moving like a mountain, squinted slightly.

Qi Xinghan, whose temper is more stubborn than the stinky stone in the pit, really changed his words, and his evaluation is higher than that of today's saints, and he even used 'famous for eternity'.

What kind of poetry does this have to be to make Qi Xinghan admit it or blow it upside down?

Suddenly, the fellow Yanguan next to him began to stretch their necks to look at what was written on the manuscript of the poem.

Song Ji raised his hand to interrupt Qi Xinghan's words, and chuckled: "Gong Qi, let's talk about poetry first, people haven't found it yet, so we can't evaluate their talents." And the words "famous for a thousand years" are too heavy to be conclusive, you read these three poems again, let you Aiqing taste one or two. ”

Qi Xinghan crashed into Song Ji's bureau and became a black face, what else could he say at this time, picked up the poem manuscript and brewed it, and then began to recite the poem:

"Ten years of life and death, without thinking, unforgettable. Thousands of miles of lonely graves, nowhere to talk about desolation......"

As soon as the words came out, the noisy audience quieted down, and all eyes lit up.

Qi Xinghan is an old man in his twilight years, reading this poem is full of charm, and the meaning of sorrow is touching.

The audience is full of female guests, who are already prone to sadness and sadness, 'I suddenly return to my hometown at night, Xiaoxuan window, and I am dressing up. There are no words for each other, only a thousand lines of tears', just thinking of that picture, is a sour nose.

And the old courtier, who also had a 'common promise of white heads' when he was young, couldn't help but recall the scene of a night conversation with his wife when he was young.

Songbai Qing was born in the cold door and his wife died early, and he came to this day alone with his only daughter.

Everyone has seven emotions and six desires, and the princes and generals are the same, who has no one to worry about.

After reading a poem, there was no sound in the hall, only the aftertaste.

The hall was quiet for a long time, and an old master from the Guozijian broke the silence with his mouth:

"Good words, self-cultivation Qi family rules the country and the world, and those who can have such friendship with their deceased wives are by no means unscrupulous, and they have done it if they want to cultivate themselves."

Evaluate people rather than words, this evaluation is in place, after all, the quality of the words on the spot, I don't have this ability, I guess I have to go back and study for many days before I dare to make a conclusion.

Everyone nodded, looked at Qi Xinghan, and looked forward to the next song.

Qi Xinghan pondered for a moment and continued:

"Withered vines and old trees, faint crows, small bridges and flowing water, ancient roads and west wind and thin horses, the sun sets, and the broken intestines are at the end of the world."

After reading just a few sentences, the response caused was not as high as the previous one.

It's not that there are high and low with each other, but that you can sit in the Chengqing Hall and be invited by the Son of Heaven, it is impossible to have such a situation, even if it is a poor family, at least it is also a Jinshi on the list, and it is regarded as the pride of heaven among the students who cross the river.

After a reminiscence, everyone can only praise it from the aspect of writing the scene, and it is not good to evaluate the lyricism.

However, just two poems are enough to make civil and military officials look at each other differently, and this poem is indeed worthy of the word 'talented'. There is also a vague image in everyone's minds:

It's about the age of a sixtieth year, a wife is deceased, and a late bloomer, who is full of talent but has nowhere to live.

This is indeed the common appearance of high-ranking people.

With this impression, everyone couldn't help but look forward to the third poem even more, and wanted to analyze more information from it to determine whether this person was really talented or just a sour Confucian with a stomach full of complaints.

What everyone didn't expect was that Qi Xinghan's momentum changed completely, and he said loudly:

"Drunk to pick up the lamp to look at the sword, dream back to blow the horn company camp. Eight hundred miles of fire, fifty strings turned over the outside sound, and the battlefield was an autumn soldier.

The horse-made Lu was fast, and the bow was like a thunderbolt. But the king of the world, won the name before and after his death. Poor white happens! ”

The words are sonorous and powerful, just like a veteran of the dust in his twilight years, recalling the past that has dominated the world in the burrow.

The sudden change in mood made the guests in the hall stunned for a moment before they showed surprise!

This is one who wrote it?

From the sadness of 'caring for each other without words, only a thousand tears', to the desolation of 'the broken intestine man at the end of the world', it suddenly turned into the heroic spirit of 'looking at the sword with a lamp while drunk, and dreaming of blowing the horn and camping'.

This is writing poetry, this is fucking called showmanship!

In particular, the meaning of the sentence 'but the king of the world, winning the name before and after his death', has been revealed.

Doesn't it mean that he can't learn when he is full of money, and he wants to join the government to help the king govern the world. It is estimated that although he is old, his ambition has not diminished.

There was an uproar in the hall, and the important ministers present were a little stunned, they didn't expect that someone would recommend themselves to this extent.

The point is that these three poems are impeccable, and they have nothing to say. Could it be that he was depressed and unwilling to write two poems to tell about the current situation?

But these three poems, no matter how you look at them, are all showing off their skills, how can a person's experience be so rich, and his mood has changed so much.

In the midst of the surprise, Song Baiqing pondered for a while, and always felt that the sentence 'picking up the lamp and looking at the sword while drunk' was a little familiar, as if he had heard it somewhere, so he said:

"Holy Lord, are these three poems really written by one person? Can you give Weichen an observation or two? ”