At the same time, in the face of these great Confucians, even if they are great princes, they must be careful to speak and cater to them. However, Mo Fei had no stage fright and walked over generously.

On both sides stood Yun Yi, Yan Xinchen, Leng Futong, and Wen Biyun, holding two booklets in their hands, which were well-bound, one was blue and the other was yellow.

These two booklets are a collection of poems compiled by the Hanlin Academy after the annual Tianxia meeting. After repeated deliberations, the poems would be brought back to their own countries by the envoys of the Qin and Han dynasties, and then distributed, and when the time came, the scholars of Zhongzhou would be able to see the poems of the Tianxia Society.

However, in previous years, after the Tianxia meeting, there were only a few high-quality poems per person, and after the unified selection, it was only a hundred poems. If it's not enough, you have to choose another poem to make up the number. But at this Tianxia Meeting, there are dozens of fine poems by one person. Moreover, the previous selection of Canghai Academy, the selection of the Gongyuan and the Tang Dynasty Literary Association, there were 90 poems made by Mo Fei, and each of them can be called a masterpiece.

The book of poems of the Tianxia Society is not worthy of Mo Fei's poems at all.

Therefore, it was suggested that Mo Fei should open a separate booklet and include all his poems up to the present time. However, due to the previous academy selection, there was a poem "Shangshan Morning Journey" that was a residual poem, and although there were many of these poems, there were only ninety, which was not enough for a hundred, so he sent someone to invite Mo Fei to come to Hongwen Hall and fill in the poetry book.

And Yun Yi, Yan Xinchen and others came to see the poems Mo Fei usually wrote.

When Ye Gongshu sent someone to invite Mo Fei, he specially told Mo Fei to take the poetry book he usually makes. Now I can't help but be a little surprised when I see Mo Fei coming empty-handed.

"In the past, when I wrote poems, I was just a momentary interest, but after I finished writing, they were all burned, so there was no poetry book."

Don't have a book of poetry?

These big Confucians were dizzy for a while,...... It's really a tyrannical thing, but these poems at the literary meeting, casually thrown out a poem, are all masterpieces. In the future, I am afraid that it will be difficult to find a thousand dollars, but people are good, and they will burn the fire after writing.

These big Confucians are inexplicably a little irritable, if they are their own students, they will definitely be scolded with their heads and faces. However, looking at the collection of Mo Fei's poems in his hand, although he sighed in his heart, he had to admit that young people can not be fame and fortune, not arrogant or impatient, such a heart is indeed admirable. Father Youzai, Uncle Tai Ling and the others nodded appreciatively.

However, it is a pity that I can't fill these 100 poems.

"I'll write ten more now."

Well?

Right now?

These people looked at Mo Fei strangely, Mo Fei wrote poems before, all of them were poems written in literary meetings or selections, and they thought that a large part of Mo Fei was because of the atmosphere or pressure, which made him think well.

But now, after a long period of slackness, can you still make a good work?

Moreover, the palace banquet will start in a while, and there is not much time left, if you can't write the same excellent work as before, I'm afraid that it will not be good to put it in the poetry book.

Wu Yong was more or less blamed in his heart, young man, in the end, he was arrogant. In this environment, in full view of everyone, once something goes wrong, the shortcomings will be infinitely magnified. What's wrong with maintaining the pride of the sky now, why bother with a momentary ability?

Wu Yong thought so in his heart, but he had to prepare pens, ink, paper and inkstones for Mo Fei.

Yan Xinchen in the back entered the Hongwen Pavilion from Mo Fei, and a pair of eyes stared at Mo Fei tightly, those blazing eyes, if Mo Fei saw it, he would definitely understand that this was the worship and fanaticism of fans when they saw idols.

Mo Fei looked at the prepared pen, ink, paper and inkstone, and then picked up the pen and wrote:

"Sick Books": ...... The humble did not dare to forget the country, and the matter must still be closed. ……

After writing a poem, those Confucian sages didn't care about their identities, and they all gathered around Mo Fei, muttering while stretching their necks to look. In the back, Yun Yi, Leng Futong and others also hurriedly came up.

Yan Xinchen had to maintain a woman's reserve just now in full view of everyone, but now that no one was paying attention to her, when she looked forward, she found that her height was not enough. I struggled to stand on my tiptoes, but I still couldn't see it.

At this time, behind her, someone suddenly pulled her sleeve, Yan Xinchen looked back at Yaya, her face was flushed, and she bowed her head suddenly.

Yaya looked at her expressionlessly, and then took out a small booklet from her sleeve and stuffed it directly into Yan Xinchen's arms.

And then......

After putting the poetry book in, Yaya's hand inexplicably pinched Yan Xinchen's ****.

Yan Xinchen looked at Yaya dumbfounded. But for some reason, in the face of this rude action, she didn't scream, nor was she angry, she just looked at Yaya in disbelief.

Yaya glanced at her without blushing and heartbeat, and then tightened the salty pig's hand just now.

At this time, someone read: "Linjiang Immortal": ...... At that time, the bright moon was there, and it was back from the clouds.

……

"Wu Lingchun? Spring Festival Gala: ...... Things are people, and they don't have to do anything, and tears flow first.

These ten poems are basically written according to Mo Fei's pen sketch, without stumbling.

The more they read back, the more high-pitched their voices became, and the more excited they became.

The eldest prince, Yu Chaoen, and the palace maids and eunuchs who accompanied them had never seen them so out of shape, and they couldn't help but be a little surprised. At the same time, the eyes that looked at Mo Fei gradually changed. Although they don't understand poetry, they can see that they have written poetry, and if they have divine help, they also know that the other party's literary talent has really reached the point of incredible.

After I finished writing, I put the pen away. took the towel handed over by the palace maid, wiped it, and sat to the side. Those great Confucians, who didn't have time to take care of Mo Fei, picked up the poems he wrote, and read them over and over again. Then, a group of people gathered together and copied the booklet, and occasionally there were sighs of praise.

"This sentence 'The humble does not dare to forget the country, and the matter must still be closed'. It's really well written, it's a swan song for the ages! ”

"There is also this sentence 'It is always because the floating clouds can cover the sun, and Chang'an is not seen to make people worried.'" The mood is good. ”

Those great Confucians pinched the pens in their hands, and each sat on a chair and copied it, leaving Mo Fei aside.

After Mo Fei won the top spot in the world, the eldest prince originally wanted to recruit this person for his own use, but now he sees that the timing is good.

looked at Mo Fei, did not hesitate to praise words, and Yu Chaoen on the side also spoke interestingly.

However, Mo Fei's response was mediocre. As a prince, the eldest prince has never been treated with such contempt when he saw it in the past. I was a little annoyed in my heart, but when I thought that the other party was the top of the Tianxia Society, he was highly respected by scholars. suppressed this nameless anger in the bottom of his heart, but the enthusiasm also cooled down.

As Ye Gongshu and the others copied the poems, Yun Yi, Leng Futong and Wen Biyun leaned over to watch, and the others sat in their respective places.

Yan Xinchen was originally very keen on reading poetry, but after encountering Yaya's salty pig hand just now, he was ashamed and ashamed, and sat on the chair with a red face. Biting his lip gently, after a while, he looked up at Yaya, and saw her looking at herself expressionlessly, Yan Xinchen didn't know what to do.

Mo Fei noticed Yan Xinchen's expression, even if he didn't understand Yan Xinchen, he could see Yaya's expression, and he knew that the other party was being bullied.

He shook his head helplessly.

"It's strange, the allusions in your poems are recorded in some historical sources. Some of them are not, where do these allusions come from? ”

It was a great Confucian who asked the question, and the old man frowned, not daring to delay the time, and asked while copying.

"It's all made up by myself, some can make up an overall story, and some are just made up at random."

Several Confucians were stunned when they heard this, this ...... Both. Subsequently, Ye Gongshu scolded with a smile: "Not rigorous enough." ”

Mo Fei smiled, noncommittal. In fact, in the poems written by Mo Fei, the allusions that can be found in historical materials only coincide with the history of this era, and they can be understood when written.

But there are still quite a few allusions that do not appear in history. These allusions that did not appear, if they did not contradict this era and could be justified, he could say it. However, some allusions involve a wide range of things, and it is difficult to justify himself, so he has to say that he made it up at will.

"These poems of yours are wild and wild, graceful and graceful, with a variety of styles and rich themes. Obviously, a hairy boy in his twenties can write the state of mind of an old man in his seventies and eighties, and he is also a genius. Compared to this, those allusions are not surprising. ”

Mrs. An nodded and said, "Yes! These poems...... Things are people, and they don't have to do anything, and tears flow first. …… Since ancient times, it has been sad to part, and it is even more Nakan, and it has neglected the Qingqiu Festival. It is better to say that it is graceful, but it is better to say that it is made by a woman. But...... I like the tightness. ”

The poems that Mrs. An chanted just now are all Li Qingzhao's nouns, and they are the works of the women's boudoir, so it is no wonder that Mrs. An likes these poems.

Even Yan Xinchen, among the poems written by Mo Fei, is particularly fond of these poems. Especially when I heard just now that "things are people, everything is restless, and tears flow first", a wave of sorrow surged inexplicably in my heart.

This sorrow just came to my heart, and then I received the girl's eyes, and the sorrow fled in an instant.

It didn't take long to transcribe ten poems, but these great Confucians really didn't want to be perfunctory in the face of this kind of masterpiece, so it took more than twice as long to strive for perfection with one stroke at a time.

However, after copying it, it is better to get rid of the shock brought by the poem. Only then did I realize that the poems I copied in twice the time were not as good as Mo Fei's calligraphy.

Is...... Comparisons are odious!

After the transcription was completed, noisy voices came from Hongwenkan one after another, and ceremonial music was played. At this time, a eunuch came in the hall, bowed his head and said respectfully: "The eldest prince, my lords, the palace banquet is about to begin, Your Majesty has asked the slaves and maids to come over to spread the word, please move to the palace square." ”

"yes, got it."

The eldest prince waved his hand, the eunuch retreated, and these great Confucians put down the poetry book in their hands unsatisfied, waved their hands and said, "Let's go, don't let them wait." ”

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