Chapter Seventy-Seven: Chrysanthemum Juice and Wine
Seeing that everyone's interest was mobilized again, all the talented people rushed to the seat to find a place to sit down, and when Zhang San reacted, everyone had already gathered around. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info
Everyone came to watch the talented people write poems, Zhang San's position was just a corner, Zhang San planned to retreat quietly, but the group of talents he offended did look at him, Zhang San if he retreated now, he would not be laughed at by them, so Zhang San had to sit down with a big grin.
On the stage, Zhao Ji said: "Since everyone is taking advantage of the autumn day to enjoy the chrysanthemum, it is better to write poems and lyrics with the theme of autumn or chrysanthemum, what do you think." ”
Everyone nodded yes, Zhang Sando secretly despised it on the chair, this Zhao Ji is worthy of being a faint gentleman, he didn't even figure out the central idea, is this a chrysanthemum? This is charity, how can there be a topic that has nothing to do with charity. The group nodded their heads one by one. It's so undisciplined.
With the topic, everyone pondered and meditated, some scribbled and changed on their desks, and some paced around the table, but Zhang San was not in a hurry, and secretly watched what others were doing on the side.
The waiter next to him began to serve a pot of wine, Zhang Sanzheng was strange, and Zhao Ji on the stage said: "How can there be no wine if there is a poem, this is the chrysanthemum wine brewed by the lonely king last year, brewed with chrysanthemum juice and high-quality grains. ”
Everyone went to thank the prince again, and came up, Zhang San got a cup, sure enough, the wine was yellow, and there was a faint fragrance of chrysanthemums, Zhang San suddenly remembered that chrysanthemums were the pronoun of a certain part, and he held the wine made of yellow chrysanthemum juice in his hand, thinking about Zhang San himself was about to vomit.
Putting down the wine glass, Zhang San looked around, and the group of dead talents still looked back at themselves from time to time, and exchanged heads and ears from time to time. Zhang San knew that they must be there to study how to make a fool of themselves, and in order not to make a fool of themselves, Zhang San had to think hard about the poems he remembered about writing chrysanthemums.
There are a lot of poems written about chrysanthemums from ancient times to the present, such as picking chrysanthemums under the east fence, or waiting until the autumn of September 8 and other predecessors will be a lot, but since the Song Dynasty, it has been rare.
Anyway, Zhang San can't remember much, there is a battlefield yellow flower that is not very fragrant, why don't you change Tang Bohu's peach blossom dock to a chrysanthemum dock? Thinking about Chrysanthemum Dock, Zhang San thought of Chrysanthemum Juice Wine again, and his whole body had goosebumps.
Why don't you make up your own? I don't have that level. Thinking about it, he suddenly remembered a poem he had read before, which seemed to be from the Ming Dynasty, Zhang San began to write:
Autumn full of hedge roots begin to see flowers,
Indeed, from indifference to prosperity.
The west wind door path is fragrant,
Except for the Tao family to my house.
After writing, Zhang San took a look, well, it's not bad, and it should be the right thing for the topic. Now that it has been completed, Zhang San has been able to calm down. Zhang Sansi took a look and found that most of them were altering and creating, and those few talents were also in the process of creating.
Zhang Sanji looked into the distance, on this mountain ridge, the ridge under the mountain is a bush of wild chrysanthemums on the roadside, you can faintly see the Bianhe River in the distance, this mountain scenery is a pity that no one appreciates it, if only Shuang'er is there, a pair of geese in the sky are flying south, two lonely geese alternately lead, I think it must be not caught up with the team alone.
Zhang San watched the two geese fly towards the top of his head, one seemed to be a little exhausted, flapped his wings a few times and couldn't fly anymore, one fell down, and the hula just fell in the middle of this group of scholars, scared everyone to scream, the scene was panicked, knowing that the forbidden soldiers came up to pick it up and saw that it was a wild goose, everyone settled down.
Looking at the sky, another wild goose saw his companion falling, hovering in the sky and screaming, unwilling to leave for a long time, Zhao Ji was originally scared half to death by the wild goose just now, and now he heard the wild goose on his head screaming and said angrily: "Come on, shoot him down for me." ”
The Praetorian soldier immediately replied, "Yes." He hurriedly went down to the archers to shoot, but several arrows were unsuccessful.
When the geese fell just now, Yang Tai had already run to Zhang San's side from the outer circle, and seeing that everyone couldn't shoot, Yang Tai quietly asked Zhang Sandao: "Third brother, do you want me to go." ”
Zhang San shook his head and didn't want Yang Tai to participate, just as Zhang San and Yang Tai were chatting, the wild goose in the sky resolutely rushed all the way down, rushed into a table in the crowd in a large group of people, bang, hit his head on the table, fell off the table with an ordinary bang, and died next to another wild goose.
Everyone looked at the pair of geese and was silent for a while, some sighed at their friendship, some sighed at the courage of the wild goose, and the talented people at the table trembled even more, and now they didn't stand up straight.
After Zhao Ji recovered a little, he shouted angrily: "Come on, throw these two dead geese, throw them far away." ”
"Slow!" The German princess, who rarely spoke, whispered a few words to Zhao Ji, and Zhao Ji nodded and said, "Okay, read the true feelings of this pair of geese, find a place to bury them on this mountain." ”
The soldiers retreated, the waiters cleaned up the mess on the scene, and everyone finally lifted this one over and began to continue their own creation.
Zhang San looked at the pair of geese and somehow felt that he missed Shuang'er very much, remembering that although the time he spent with her was very short, Zhang San could feel Shuang'er's deep love for him, thinking that Shuang'er was willing to leave home and refuse to see him in order to avoid her involvement, and he didn't know when he would be able to take her out.
Thinking about it, Zhang San couldn't help but burst into tears, Yang Tai looked at Zhang San as if he was a little out of shape, and wanted to step forward to remind him, but Zhang San's abnormality had been seen by others and were talking about it, and those talented people were even more sarcastic Zhang San was scared and cried by the wild goose, and so on.
Zhang San didn't care about this, just drank the wine in a big gulp, and after drinking the slightly bitter chrysanthemum wine, he felt a little unhappy, motioned to the waiter to send it again, and drank it directly to the pot.
After drinking the second pot, Zhang San went to the table next to him to pick up a pot and drank it all, Zhang San only felt that the suppressed feelings in his heart had nowhere to vent, picked up the pen and thought of the two geese, remembered the song of the wild goose, Zhang San wanted to write the poem at the moment to express his feelings.
Pick up a pen and write down the words touch the fish on the paper. and wrote the words of Yanqiu at the back.
Then wrote: In October of the second year of Yuan Fu, two geese met in the West Mountain in the suburbs of Beijing, one of them was tired and died on the road, and the other could not go with a sad cry, so he fell straight to the ground and died.
Ask the world, what is love, only teach life and death?
There are double flyers in the south and the north, and the old wings have been cold and hot several times.
Happy and fun, parting bitter, there are even more crazy children.
You should have a saying, thousands of miles of stratus clouds, thousands of mountains and twilight snow, who does the shadow go to?
Yangzhou Road, lonely when the drums, the smoke is still flat.
Summoning the soul is a little more so, and the mountain ghost is secretly wind and rain.
The sky is also jealous, unbelievable, warblers and swallows are loess.
Through the ages, in order to stay for the people, he sang and drank wildly, and visited Yanqiu.
After writing it, Zhang San looked at the whole poem, with tears in his eyes, and felt that this poem was not only hanging the two geese but also talking about himself. There is no nostalgia for this West Mountain Chrysanthemum Appreciation Meeting, and slowly walk down the mountain.