Chapter Ninety-Eight: This Man Takes the Lead!

Qiu Lao and the others shook their heads, everyone was a little stunned, there is no doubt that the first of today's poetry meeting has been evaluated, and everyone present is also convinced, why did they get to Qiu Lao's place, or shake their heads?

Although Zheng Yilang's face remained unchanged, and he even maintained an indifferent smile, there was anger flashing in the depths of his eyes, and he smiled and was silent.

Everyone in the audience was in an uproar, Qiu Lao coughed slightly, suppressed the noise, the scene was quiet, and Qiu Lao said:

"If you only count the poems made by everyone present, this son should indeed fight for the first place, but..."

Qiu Lao paused slightly, everyone focused their eyes, and Mr. Yangshu on the side answered:

"But we were fortunate enough to see a poem on a pillar, and unfortunately there was no one present who could compare with it. ”

After Mr. Yangshu finished speaking, there was a commotion from the crowd, and Zheng Yilang also looked at it with curiosity, and there was no shortage of people with good deeds below, standing up and shouting:

"There is such a good word, can be affirmed by three gentlemen, I don't know where this word is?"

Qiu Lao and the others also knew that it would be difficult to convince everyone if they didn't show it, so they got up and said:

"Please come with me. ”

There are three great virtues to lead the way, everyone quietly walked to the pillar, several priests added lanterns here in advance, so that the light here is bright, Qiu Lao came to the pillar, pointed to the words and said:

"Look, everybody, that's the word we've only been lucky enough to see. ”

When everyone looked at it, they immediately let out a burst of exclamations, and a lot of admiration came immediately.

"What a word, what a word. ”

"I didn't expect there to be such good words, I don't know which talent wrote the lyrics here?"

"Since he has such talent, this talent wants to be famous in the southwest today. ”

"Qiu Lao, I don't know which genius made this poem? Please help point it out, I'll see you later." ”

Everyone questioned, Qiu Lao was stunned for a moment but did not speak, they all promised Zheng Xuan to keep Zheng Yichen confidential, Qiu Lao did not speak, and the old man Zhuyun said:

"If this talented man doesn't want to come out, everyone is unwilling to come out no matter how they invite each other here, and if there is a fate in the future, everyone will meet again sooner or later. ”

Seeing that the three great masters were reluctant to speak, everyone felt sorry, but Zheng Yilang was left cold, and no one cared about the poems he begged for, and he withdrew from the crowd expressionlessly.

The crowd kept commenting around the columns, Zheng Xuan stood on the high post not far away, looking at the sea of flowers at the foot of the mountain, his eyes were full of loneliness and loneliness, and his mouth was slightly chanting: "To complain about the acacia lamp, a wisp of new love, a thousand wisps of old thoughts." The most important thing is that the world can't stay, and Zhu Yan is a flowery tree. He has grown up!" A gust of wind swept countless cherry blossoms and flew up, fluttering, and flying towards the moon wheel high in the sky.

Zheng Xuan was swept by the wind, just came back to his senses, looked at the crowd at the bottom of the mountain, and ordered: "Go home!" When everyone gathered, he was firmly protected by the man in black and took his family down the mountain.

Zheng Yichen and others followed behind, Ma's face was flat, and he couldn't see joy, he had locked Zheng Yichen in the wing room today to copy the scriptures, so that he couldn't perform in front of Zheng Xuan at all, and his two sons also had a lot of gains today, so they should be happy.

But the people who didn't know where they came from actually won the first place in the poetry club, and they spent a lot of money in vain.

Although Ma was not happy in his heart, he was not uncomfortable, at least his two sons in today's poetry club had a greater harvest than Zheng Yichen. I just don't know why, after Zheng Xuan left the poetry club, his attitude towards Zheng Yichen changed a little, this change was very inadvertent, if it weren't for Ma's perennial companionship with Zheng Xuan, more than ten years of husband and wife, I couldn't feel it at all, Ma was a little puzzled, but I didn't know why this happened, I could only comfort myself in my heart:

"Maybe it's just that I'm tired today. ”

The poetry club did not make Zheng Yichen famous, but Zheng Yichen's harvest was far greater than that of becoming famous, and Zheng Xuan's attitude was the best gain! I dare not say anything else, when Zheng Xuan recalled everyone just now, he looked at himself and looked at him in the past.

Although he didn't dare to say that the current Zheng Yichen was on the same level as his two brothers in Zheng Xuan's eyes, at least for now, Zheng Xuan would not ignore him anymore, and if there was any opportunity in the future, Zheng Yichen would also have the ability to fight for it.

Zheng Xuan and his party left, the poetry meeting lasted for a while and then ended, the scribes left in twos and threes, and the three great masters would rest here for a night, and go to the Hou Ye's Mansion early tomorrow morning as a guest, but these have nothing to do with Mo Ling, and the two purposes of the poetry club have been achieved.

The mountain of flowers brought the fame of the shrine, but also spread their own reputation among the wealthy class, the scribes of the entire southwest Shu County, even if they do not believe themselves, will know their own shrine, this shallow edge, who knows when it will sprout? The incense gathered in the Fengshen Record, just a few days, it was comparable to the harvest of several years.

In the solemn golden hall, Mo Ling's three-zhang gold height sits on the altar at a high end.

In the hall, Mo Ling, Yang Xuanjun, Mo Li, the Four Heavenly Kings, and several high-ranking gods and generals who were later promoted, sat upright and gathered in the hall.

Lu Rongwei knelt on the ground and said to Mo Ling: "Lord, fortunately, I am not dishonored, and the poetry meeting will be successfully completed!"

Lu Rongwei solved the aftermath of the work, and reported respectfully, Mo Ling was very satisfied with Lu Rongwei's performance, and praised it without hesitation, and then suddenly changed his style and asked:

"Fengyue God's side, how is the arrangement?"

"It's all set up, and they don't know that we are holding a poetry meeting while arranging for people to be secretly stationed. ”

Mo Ling knocked on the five-strand fan: "Very good! You guard the door, and the rest will go with me! Don't leave any one behind tonight!"

got up and turned into a golden light, and shot straight into the sky, followed by Yang Xuanjun, the Four Heavenly Kings, and all the divine generals.

At night, the moon wheel was shining brightly, and the gods reflected the huge full moon rising in the east, flying to the southwest, and in a short time, less than a mile out of the city, I saw a temple covering a large area in the lush woods in the valley below! The temple was completely devoid of lights, and it was pitch black, and it looked like it had been overpopulated early.

Yang Xuanjun stepped forward: "Lord, this is the Fengyue Temple, I have ordered my subordinates to secretly drain the earth's qi." ”

Mo Ling said: "Very good!" After speaking, he stepped on the void and descended the clouds step by step, directly over the outer courtyard wall, and came to the temple courtyard.

The courtyard is full of cherry blossom trees, the leaves are dense, and it looks very quiet, Mo Ling smiled faintly, and shouted at the temple on the front stage: "Old friend Fengyue, I came to visit tonight, why don't you come out to meet? This is not your usual hospitality? I remember the drinking party in the Yihe Palace a few days ago, you and I drank and talked happily, so we turned the guests away." It's really hard to handle?"

The hall was pitch black, and only Mo Ling's voice still echoed, as if it had already been empty.