Wuyi Zhulang refers to the young talents of the wealthy nobles of Wang Xie and the two families in Wuyi Lane, which is naturally a general term.

Most of the students in Shencheng know about the local celebrities, and most of them hear about the Wuyi Lane in the capital, so whenever the new poems of Wang Xie and the two families are hot, they always have to be named "Wuyi Zhulang's new poems".

This one seems to be extraordinarily different.

It can be seen from the subtle changes in the expression on the face of this young man who preached poetry, but perhaps the atmosphere is too warm, perhaps the people are too careless, or maybe the people's confidence and pride are too full and full.

As a result, few of the hundreds of scholars in this huge pergola noticed the strangeness of this young man who was passing on the book, nor did they notice that the original voice in the hall of the Shouyang Building suddenly became lower.

Except for a few people who are calm in their hearts.

For example, Yuan Lai, he has always been a person who is very good at observing others.

"Oh, take a look!"

Some people are anxious.

"The talents of Wuyi Lane are still there, although the first few poems are slightly inferior to my Shencheng talents, they are also commendable, and this one will definitely not fall behind. ”

These are the words of an old gentleman, the language is elegant but cannot hide the arrogance in his tone.

"It's just that there is Liu Gongzi's song "Shouyang Building" that is amazing, and this one is probably ...... Ha ha. ”

There are also those who ignore Wuyi Lane.

Yuan looked at these people, and also saw that whenever someone spoke, the young man's face became even darker, very subtle but not difficult to detect.

Finally, those few pieces of paper were still looted and passed by everyone, and the old Confucian at the same table stretched out his hand with a reserved smile, and naturally someone offered one of the papers, and then he lowered his head and looked at it.

The rest of the people at the table were also eager to wear it, but they were still patient, and planned to wait for the old Confucian to finish reading and commenting a few words.

Xiao Qiao was still laughing: "I also want to see what the people from the capital are capable of." ”

However, after a while, everyone suddenly noticed that the atmosphere was not quite right, and the pergola was a little quiet, so it seemed that the weather was not so hot and unbearable.

Not only is it not hot, but it is a little cold. This is the true feeling of the old Confucian student, the smile on his face retracted, silently put the paper on the table, and then hesitated for a moment before saying, "This poem is very good." ”

"How good is it? can it be better than Liu Gongzi?" Xiao Qiao asked.

The old Confucian glared at him, and finally spoke: "This round is the victory of Wuyi Zhulang." ”

"What?"

The people at the same table were shocked, since ancient times, it is often said that literati are inferior to each other, and it shows that this poem must be excellent.

Several people hurriedly took it over and bowed their heads to read it, and when they read it again, everyone stopped talking.

The same is true for the rest of the pergola, some poems are difficult to distinguish, but some poems are easy to see, and this poem is clearly the latter.

"Who wrote this poem?" asked the old Confucian scholar.

Someone responded: "It's a son of the Xie family." ”

"Oh," the old Confucian nodded, "It doesn't matter, victory or defeat is a common thing in soldiers." ”

As soon as this sentence came out, it was like a thaw of the glacier, and the atmosphere on the table suddenly became warm again, just losing a round is not an embarrassing thing, and now it is a home game, if it has been pressing the guests, it is also extremely rude.

Similar to the situation at this table, the atmosphere on the large and small tables in the entire pergola is suffocated and then thawed.

For a moment, it was as warm as before, but many people's originally beaming faces were a little more restrained.

Many people thought that this was just a short-term defeat, and those who were arrogant and had no one in their eyes even smiled lightly and said that this was to save some face for the two families from the capital.

But in the hall on the first floor of Shouyang Building, the atmosphere was a little tense, to be precise, the faces of the local students in Shencheng were a little unpleasant.

"This round was won by Wuyi Zhulang, so the two rounds of poetry competition were tied. A local official in Shencheng in the hall smiled, first greeting the young man of Wang Xie and the two families on the left, and then giving an encouraging look to the local student in Shencheng on the other side.

In the hall, the tables and chairs of the people form a half circle, in the middle are several large tables, on the table are placed pen, ink, paper, inkstone, four treasures of the study, and the top of the empty head on the table is on the second floor to pull up the string to hang the poems made here for people to see.

The height of the hanging paper is different, there are many Hanlin and local celebrities, civil officials and scholars here to evaluate the poems of these two students, and the higher the evaluation of the higher hanging height is higher, and at this time, the local literati in Shencheng looked at the highest hanging snow-white rice paper with a dull face.

At the same time, looking at the calm and relaxed Wuyi Lane opposite, the young generation of the two families couldn't help but feel an oppressive force.

The students who were lifted very high felt the most oppressive force, don't look at the previous time they pressed the Wuyi Zhulang, but under the surface of the scenery, they already felt a little bitter in their hearts.

The other party has been calm and relaxed from the beginning to now, but his side is gradually showing fatigue.

It's not good.

Several Shencheng students secretly whispered to each other, and their eyes kept glancing at the two young men who were the two leading young people opposite, who were the two with the most agile thinking and the highest prestige in the generation of Wang Xie and the two families.

The Wang and Xie families are both famous families, and there are many heirs in the clan, the Xie family is ranked eighteenth in this generation, and the Wang family ranks twelfth.

Just now, Xie Shibai wrote the next excellent poem, which made the students of Shencheng unable to raise their heads in one fell swoop.

At this time, Xie Shiba's expression was indifferent, revealing a hint of arrogance, and it was not bad to cultivate qi at this age, which made several old masters in the audience nod their heads again and again.

"They're going to show their real work. One whispered.

"Real kung fu, do you think they were humble before!"

The man didn't speak, just lowered his head and said sullenly, "What do you think?" ”

"You!"

"Alright. An older student from Shencheng frowned, suppressed everyone's discussions, and muttered for a while before saying: "This time, we are waiting to meet the enemy at the door of our house, and there are a large number of people in the forest watching outside the building. Although it is Wenbi today, it involves the face of my thousand-year-old famous city in Shencheng! We must do our best to face the battle! Victory is not arrogant and defeated, and it is the right way!"

"What Brother Lin said is very true, the next round of competition is about to begin, and it is better for everyone to rest for a while. Another man closed his eyes and said.

Everyone nodded, but one of them never spoke, which seemed a little special.

"Is Liu Gongzi sure about the next round?"

An indifferent young man in the audience glanced at the questioner and shook his head slightly.

The questioner only sighed when he saw it, and muttered in a low voice: "Liu Chonghu and Liu Gongzi shook their heads, can this competition still be won?" After all, ...... Poetry competitions are far from being determined by the number of people. ”

After a cup of tea, the third round of the competition begins.

An old Hanlin who was sitting in the right seat paused, and said loudly: "This round of poems is based on Qiu Ju, and the talents of both sides show their abilities, and the best ones are selected for the final comparison!"

The middle school students in the hall are all holding their breath and listening quietly, the poems and rules of this round that Hanlin said.

The title of the poem is based on Qiu Ju, and the rule is that the poems of the students of the two sides are each the three best, and finally the three poems of Shen Cheng against the three of Wuyi Zhulang.

As soon as the title of the poem came out, everyone's brows were like autumn yellow leaves, and the veins were wrinkled.

"Qiu Ju is the topic, this topic is too ordinary, so it seems too difficult. Liu Chonghu said secretly in his heart.

This kind of idea is not only unique to him, almost everyone in the hall has thought of this, the most common poetry theme in a hundred years has a place for this autumn chrysanthemum, if you want to take chrysanthemums as the theme, almost a reader can recite two sentences, but because of this, chrysanthemums have almost been written badly, and the old and the new are brought out, and the brilliance is shown in the mud, which is the real great difficulty.

However, just when many students were still frowning and thinking hard, and the young man who was nicknamed Wang Twelve, who was the twelfth generation in the family, stood up and said lightly: "Xiaosheng is not talented, I am willing to throw bricks and lead to good jade." ”

Anyway, pick up the pen, dip it in ink, hang your wrist, and do it in one go.