The first confrontation between Lingyun City and the capital, with the appearance of Zhu Ziming, won a complete victory, which also announced the success of Lingyun City's promotion, but Zhu Ziming's outstanding performance hurt the remaining ancient cities that had not yet been promoted.

Because Zhu Ziming's autumn poems are really unprecedented, there is no one after him, just ask where the talents of other ancient cities can compare with him, and the poems he does are naturally a few pieces worse, and the academician of Hanlin has raised Zhu Ziming's poems to the highest position in his heart, and the improvement of his senses has made them not have much praise for the poems behind, making it difficult for several ancient cities to escape the fate of being eliminated.

These ancient city talents who were out, all of them were like ashes, they simply hated Zhu Ziming, and they were jealous in their hearts, but they were inferior in their skills, so they could only accept the facts.

The first round of poetry competition ended with Lingyun City taking the lead, and the following is the second round of the competition, everyone is looking forward to what questions Master Fang will come up with, and even more looking forward to what kind of amazing poems Zhu Gongzi will make.

At this moment, Fang Junyi stood up again, glanced at the blue waves like a mirror in the distance, and said with a slight smile: "The second topic of the poetry meeting, with the topic of Nanhu, is to make a poem!" ”

The surname of Nanhu is a little smaller, and it is more difficult than the first question, but for the talents who have been promoted, it is not a problem, but to make excellent poems, it depends on the mood and comprehension.

With the reference of several ancient cities that have been eliminated, the remaining ancient city talents all understand that the sooner they make poems, the greater the chance of promotion, but to be able to make excellent poems, it has nothing to do with the confidence.

But the title of the poem was given on the spot, and there was not much time to cultivate good poems, and everyone understood this in their hearts, and they admired Zhu Ziming for being able to make this masterpiece for the ages in such a short time.

Academician Fang came up with the question, and the talented literati immediately lowered their heads, shook their heads, and looked for the artistic conception of the poems, at this moment, an old literati from Wushuang City stood up, seeing that his hair was gray, I am afraid that he is sixty or seventy years old

The old literati said lightly: "Lord Fang, the old man has made a poem. ”

"Mr. Hu, please!" This old literati is an old man in the literary world, and he has some prestige, Fang Junyi knows him, and he is very respectful.

Everyone's eyes looked at Mr. Hu, and Mr. Hu quickly recited: "The water is bright and sunny, and the mountains are empty and rainy."

If you want to compare Nanhu to a thrush, heavy makeup is always appropriate! ”

The water of the South Lake is sparkling and sparkling, and it looks beautiful; On rainy days, under the shroud of the rain curtain, the mountains around the South Lake are confused, and if there is nothing, it also looks very wonderful. If you compare Nanhu to a beautiful thrush, light makeup and heavy makeup are so beautiful and delicate.

The fresh tune and the drunken praise make people can't help but be fascinated by it, as if the beauty of Nanhu is all engraved in his poem, which is really beautiful.

Everyone was silent in the beauty of the poem, which was really fascinating, and they forgot to applaud

"Good!" Fang Junyi's eyes lit up and slapped his palms twice: "Mr. Hu is still a top poet, and the younger generation admires it!" ”

Even Lord Fang called himself a junior to this Mr. Hu, which shows that Mr. Hu's qualifications are so old, and everyone thought that tonight was a contest between young talents, but they didn't expect that the elegance of the old literati would not be reduced back then!

"Good poetry!" Everyone roared excitedly, although their hair was gray, they were still full of spirit, which was admirable.

Mr. Hu hugged his fists and said modestly: "Lord Fang praised it falsely, the old man is old, where can he compare to today's merry and talented man" After finishing speaking, Mr. Hu glanced at Zhu Ziming, and the meaning of his words was talking about him.

This person is indeed a rare talent, he is superior to others at such an age, it is hard to imagine what kind of achievements he should have at Mr. Hu's age, but his identity is really a bit regrettable, Fang Junyi secretly thought that he was far inferior to him at his age.

Fang Junyi smiled: "Mr. Hu doesn't have to be too humble, he also feels like a gentleman below." ”

Mr. Hu smiled bitterly twice and didn't speak again, hearing Lord Fang's appreciation, Wushuang City was considered to have been promoted, Mr. Hu breathed a sigh of relief slightly, and did not waste the trust and respect of the people of Wushuang City.

Everyone knew who Master Fang and Mr. Hu were praising him, and they both valued Zhu Gongzi so much, and they didn't know what his next performance would be, and everyone was looking forward to it.

After a while, the genius of the capital couldn't sit still, and he was about to behave, a son named Shangguan Feng stood up, he was the son of the servant of the ministry, and his literary style was on par with Wei Dongcheng, his white face was elegant and gentle, and he read slowly: "The lake and the autumn moon are harmonious, and the surface of the pond has no wind goggles and has not been polished." Looking at the mountains and rivers of Nanhu Lake in the distance, there is a green snail in the silver plate. ”

Under the silver glow of the bright moon, the South Lake Mountain is more and more verdant, the water of the South Lake is more and more clear, the mountains and rivers are integrated, and it looks like a carved and transparent silver plate, and a small and delicate green snail is placed, which is very lovely. The three or four lines of poetry are rich in imagination, appropriate metaphors, light and elegant tones, and the silver plate and the green snail complement each other and complement each other. The landscape of Nanhu Lake in the autumn moon written by Shangguan Feng has become a beautiful and exquisite arts and crafts treasure, giving people great artistic enjoyment. “

This exquisite poem is directly compared to Mr. Hu's poem, and everyone applauded, and they felt that this year's poetry will be much more wonderful than in previous years.

A Hanlin academician stood up and said with a smile: "Shangguan Gongzi's poetry is really admirable!" ”

Shangguan Feng's surname was cold, thanked him, and sat down, the capital was promoted again, Zhu Ziming frowned slightly, this capital is really a prosperous capital, the land of Wolong and Hidden Tiger, any talent who comes out is a little sighing.

If you want to defeat them, it is really not an easy task, at this moment Zhu Ziming really felt some pressure, turned his head and glanced at the starry Nanhu, only to see that the Nanhu Lake was flat to the distance, looking nearly ten miles away, the autumn wind was swaying, with a few frosts in his heart, there was!

Zhu Ziming stood up slowly, his action suddenly attracted everyone's attention, Zhu Gongzi was about to publish a poem!

Turning into the focus of everyone, Zhu Ziming's expression was still insipid, and he chanted in a somewhat low tone: "Ten miles of Pinghu is full of frost, and every inch of green silk is sorrowful.

Look at the moon-shaped single look at each other, only envy the mandarin duck and not the immortal! ”

Or the enthusiastic poetry will suddenly fall silent again because of Zhu Ziming's poems, the silent poetry will not have a sound, as if they can hear the sound of a needle falling, everyone just keeps chattering in their hearts, only envy the mandarin duck not the immortal, only envy the mandarin duck not the immortal

Such beautiful verses, touching and heartfelt

No amount of words can describe the beauty of this poem, and the lips of the people trembled, and they could not say a word!

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ps: At the request of readers, explain, all the brothers of A Chinese Ghost Story should have read it, this poem is from the handwriting of director Tsui Hark, which was adapted by him, and the poems of the rest of the supporting roles will not be introduced, it is the old blood that has been slightly changed, which is in line with the title. There is an update today, and this chapter is made up for yesterday