The third round of the competition began.

In the hall of Shouyang Building, the atmosphere is serious, tense and calm, and there are hidden waves.

And in the long pergola outside the building, the noise of conversation couldn't help but reduce the volume slightly, as if he was deeply afraid of which talent in the building would play. The weather is as hot as ever, Shouyang Building is close to the big river through the city, the water vapor is steaming under the scorching sun, and there are seasonal melons and fruits in the pergola, but the readers here still wipe their sweat from time to time.

The old Confucian was a little inexplicably nervous.

When the young man who delivered the poem came out of the Shouyang Building again, everyone could clearly see the gloom in his expression, and the bad news was never pleasant.

"Wuyi Zhulang's new poem has arrived!"

Inexplicably, the old Confucian felt that this person's shouting was very similar to that of the person who organized the red and white ceremonies. The only thing he needs to distinguish is whether this person is a red or a white thing, whether it is good news or bad news.

This time, the paper in the hands of the young poet was extraordinarily thick, and the thickness seemed to be three times the height of the previous time, and when everyone began to circulate it, they found that it was not one poem, but three whole poems.

"Three songs...... Wuyi Zhulang settled on the three poems of this round so quickly?" The old Confucian was a little surprised, but his demeanor still pretended to be relaxed.

In each round of the competition, both Shencheng students and Wuyi Zhulang had to choose the three best poems from the dozens of poems in their respective camps, but in the last two rounds, both sides slowly settled down one by one, and the rhythm was orderly and powerful.

And not long after the title of the poem was announced, Wuyi Zhulang had already selected the three best poems to participate in the competition, which is really not fast, and on the contrary, Shen Cheng students did not send a piece of paper.

"Sir, how are these three poems?"

The young students nervously asked the teacher who was reading the poem, and the teachers were collectively silent.

"This poem...... I think it's pretty average. Xiao Qiao pinched a piece of paper and smashed it in his mouth, and then waved his hand to look at the others: "Huh?"

Unfortunately, no one answered.

"What do you say, sir?" he looked at the old Confucian again.

"Shut up!" Suddenly, the old Confucian glared at him fiercely, and the eyes of the old man with half a hundred hairs were extremely sharp, so frightened that Xiao Qiao trembled and only felt that a knife was slashing in front of him.

Yuan Lai, who was ignored, also peeked at it, and then suddenly felt admired.

It's really a good poem, although it hasn't gotten rid of the traditional chrysanthemum poem situation, but this few lines have already described Qiu Ju to the fullest, and there is no reason why it is not a good poem.

Suddenly, a gentleman said: "They have chosen three poems so quickly, this must not be an impromptu composition! These three poems are of excellent quality, especially the one of the Twelve Langs of the Wang Family, which is even more exquisite, and must have been made a long time ago and only came out today after many tempering!"

His voice was slightly angry, as if he felt deeply unfair.

"That's right! They were prepared for a long time, and they had no intention of calculating!"

It's just that the words of these people did not arouse the righteous indignation of many people, and when they finished complaining, there was a humane: "How can anyone who has not written chrysanthemum poems? As long as they are made by themselves, it is understandable to take them out at this time, and the students of Shencheng don't have a few poems written in the past? ”

"Okay! What's the use of arguing about this? Now I just hope that I, Shen Chengda, can make better poems!" said an old-fashioned old gentleman.

"But...... These three poems have already written the hidden temperament and frost character of chrysanthemums! This makes me a student of Shencheng how to be good? Even if someone makes poems comparable to these three poems, but time has already been after these three poems, it will inevitably be incomparable!"

The atmosphere gradually lowered in the discussion, but everyone quarreled and talked for a while before they realized that something was wrong, why did I still not send poems in Shencheng after so long?

Gradually, people's eyes were cast on the door of Shouyang Tower, looking nervous.

In the hall that everyone couldn't see, the atmosphere was divided into two completely different, and after taking a sip of tea, the Xie family eighteen Lang slowly glanced at the person opposite, and then urged: "The tea is cold, can you Shencheng scholars start answering?"

Wang Twelve said lightly: "Brother Xian, don't be impatient, why not wait for their three teas?"

These words are not fierce, not explosive, not sharp, but the lethality is extremely huge, the faces of the students present in Shen Cheng are all red, and the pen in their hands is heavy and heavy, but it can't fall!

They had been shocked by the three poems on the other side, and at this time they only felt heavy on their shoulders but had no confidence in their hearts!

The other party is too strong, they are invincible, and no one dares to put pen to paper!

Only Liu Chonghu silently looked at the poems written on the table, secretly comparing the other party's poems, and only sighed in his heart.

His poems are not much inferior to the other party, but this competition requires three poems, and he is really difficult to support alone.

At this time, Xie 18 on the other side suddenly said: "Liu Chonghu Liu Gongzi has written it?"

Without waiting for him to answer, Xie 18 smiled and said: "Since it has been written, let's take it out, we admire Liu Gongzi's poems very much, as for others...... Hehe, what are a bunch of incompetent people waiting for them to do?"

"Don't be impatient," Wang Twelve glanced at Xie Eighteen with disgust, and repeated.

After a pause, he said: "Good poems need time to brew, maybe I can wait here until the sun goes down, and I can enjoy dozens of masterpieces that have been passed down through the ages." ”

"Really?" he smiled.

......

......

There is no impermeable wall in the world, and naturally there is no impermeable Shouyang Building, when the situation in the hall came out, it immediately detonated a burst of righteous indignation.

"In the hall, I, Shencheng students, except for Liu Gongzi, no one dares to put pen to paper! This is really a great shame!"

"Listen to what the Wang Xie family said?!Wait until the sun goes down and wait for the world's famous chapter, hehe, this is simply pointing at the nose and humiliating!

"How incompetent should I be in Shen Cheng? Even if I am defeated, it is better than surrendering before fighting!"

The righteous indignation between a group of scholars is not as unclean as in the mouths of the market, but the anger is still too much.

"Shame and shame!" The wind on the old Confucian Sheng's face turned into a whirlwind in an instant, and his gray hair stood up like an old cat being angry, he slapped the table hard, and the thick table board shook three times, and Yuan Li, who was depressedly burying his head in watermelon, was so frightened that he was scared, and when he looked up again, he just looked at the pergola with an innocent and blank face, and the pale red and pink watermelon juice at the corner of his mouth was too late to wipe it.

The rest of the people in Table Mountain also shouted angrily, as if they were disappointed with the local students' incompetence, and suddenly a young man said loudly: "Wuyi Lane bullied me and there is no one in Shencheng?!

After that, he suddenly pulled out a pen and paper from the bookcase and shouted: "I am also a young student in Shencheng, and it is not a violation to write a poem to participate in the competition!"

After shouting, he really waved his pen and wrote, which suddenly seemed to open everyone's minds, and some indignant young people began to look for paper.

For a while, there was chaos in the pergola.

"Sir, is this descriptible?" said Xiao Qiao.

According to the rules, as long as there are young people here, they can compete with them, if it is not for the seats in the building to be full, everyone here is a guest in the building!

"I also write?" Xiao Qiao pointed to his crying face and said, "I can't hold my poems!"

"What nonsense, go!" the old Confucian scolded.

After all, the movement outside the building still attracted the attention of the building, and several Hanlin Confucian scholars sitting on the first floor were also very surprised by this, but they did not stop it but nodded with a smile.

And the students in the building also put down their pens one after another with a look of shame, and their momentum rose a little for a while.

"Wuyi Lane, can you wait a little longer? I'm afraid that there are too many poems by Shencheng students, and it will take time to sift through them. The first Hanlin asked.

Wang Twelve smiled: "Of course." ”

It's just that there is no fear in his expression: "The poems are not related to the number of people......"

......

......

"Young master, why are you going?" Yuan Li suddenly saw his young master get up.

Yuan came to see the chaotic image in the shed, and saw that no one paid attention to him at all, so he smiled and said, "I'll go to the last thatched house." ”

"Then I'll go with you. With that, Yuan Li put down the melon.

Yuan Lai hurriedly held him down and ordered: "I'll do it myself, I'll come back in a while, and you can continue to be your melon-eating crowd." ”

With that, he hurried a few steps and plunged into the chaotic pergola, and by the time he came out of the crowd, he already had a few pieces of paper and a pen in his hand.