Characters like Li Sansi, regardless of talent or status, naturally have the qualifications to drink with Zhang Yi. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

Or a highly respected person like Song Fu can also open his mouth to let Zhang Yi participate in this meeting.

But Zhang Yi called himself a junior when facing them, and he was not the same generation as these people. counted the people of his generation present, but no one could make him interested in writing poetry.

Full of articles, full of talents, all of them are decadent and sinking. Whether it is homesickness or reunion, or autumn outings or climbing high and looking far, it is all a wail.

Qiu Yishui is not a reader, she can't look down on those who only know how to be sad and sad. Zhang Yi knew this a long time ago, even if he made "Peach Blossom with a Human Face" and "Green Brocade Pond Quatrain", he couldn't let Qiu Yishui take a look.

On the contrary, a few days ago, he casually said on the West Ridge, "The mountains are red all over, and the forests are dyed", which made Qiu Yishui worship.

Zhang Yi let go of Qiu Yishui, stood up, and Shi Shiran walked in the direction where Song Fu was.

All eyes followed his steps.

"Zhang Zhenguo really wants to compose poetry, let's hurry up, but don't stop his overflowing literary spirit. A middle-aged jinshi made a joke about Zhang Yi.

"What Zhang Zhenguo, he is now Zhang Chuanshi. Don't say it's you, even if we add it up, I'm afraid we won't be able to stop the talent of his article. ”

"If you want to fight, stay away, I'm going to finish the article soon, just to watch Zhang Chuanshi's live poems. ”

"Exactly, you should stay away, don't disturb Zhang Zhenguo to compose poems. If it is a good poem of Zhenguo, and it is disturbed by you, who can afford it. ”

The scholars were chattering, looking at Zhang Yi's gaze, which was much more fanatical than those young girls in the palace. In front of these self-proclaimed real readers, good articles and poems are much more tempting than women.

When Zhang Yi walked to the box, the scholars got out of the way early, and he still chose the note.

Zhang Yi took out the paper casually, the topic was to climb high and look far away, he thought for a while, and then said to the palace maid standing on the side: "Come to the pen." ”

"Use mine!" A richly dressed young man handed Zhang Yi the Wenbao pen in his hand, and was able to enter the Nandu Palace with a humanistic position, so he was naturally the son of a wealthy family.

Zhang Yi smiled indifferently, stretched out his hand to take it, and thanked him.

An old scholar stepped forward bravely and said, "The old man came to grind ink for Zhang Jieyuan." ”

"Old Li Tou, you don't have to squeeze it, the ink used in tonight's literary meeting is prepared in advance, don't you just want to watch the poems up close, why are you so thick-skinned. Song Fu grinned, standing in the center like a Dinghai Divine Needle, no one dared to come and grab his position. Seeing that his best friend actually competed for a place with a group of young people, he couldn't help but ridicule.

Li Laojin was very angry, and said: "Old Song Tou, you don't give me face like this, you don't want the ten jars of wine I owe you." ”

"Don't, don't mind. Song Fu suddenly became anxious, and looked at the young people with a smile, "Everyone, Lao Li is over seventy years old, you don't want to squeeze out anything wrong with him." ”

A young Gongshi shook his head slightly and said, "Forget it, anyway, Zhang Zhenguo's poems can be seen later, Mr. Li, you can come to my place." ”

"Thank you, thank you. Li Lao Jinshi was satisfied, and gave up his hand to the young tribute again and again.

At this time, Zhang Yi had already written the first sentence, and a layer of original treasure appeared.

"Jiang Han's autumn shadow goose flew for the first time, and the guest carried the pot on Cuiwei. ”

Song Fu did not whet the appetite of the scholars this time, Zhang Yi made the first two sentences, and he opened his mouth to recite it, so that the entire Nandu Palace could hear it clearly.

"Cuiwei, isn't it the Cuiwei Pavilion on Xiling? Zhang Zhenguo actually likes the clear snow in Xiling, and goes to the peak to see the ten-mile maple forest?"

As soon as Song Fu's words fell, some readers speculated about the mystery. But what is surprising is that Zhang Yi's first sentence is not superfluous except for the original Baoguang.

Zhang Yi did not have the slightest anxiety on his face, whether this poem is written in a scene or realistically, it can only be regarded as plain, and it is normal that there is no treasure light.

He made this poem, not for the sake of passing on the town, but just for the feeling of drinking. With a flick of his wrist, he wrote down the second sentence again.

"It's rare to laugh in the world, and chrysanthemums must be full of heads. ”

Song Fu recited again, and as soon as this sentence came out, a layer of treasure light appeared on the rice paper again. Two sentences out of the county, for other readers, it is actually very good.

But Zhang Yi is nicknamed Zhang Zhenguo, Zhang Chuanshi, and some people even call him a poet, this result obviously disappointed most of the readers present. Even many of the scholars who gathered around him had a look of doubt in their eyes.

They looked at each other, as if to say, is this really Zhang Zhenguo?

This sentence is still not brilliant, if it weren't for the mention in the sentence that Tao Xian had arranged flowers and drank in Cuiwei Pavilion, I am afraid that he would not even be able to get out of the county. An old Confucian of Hanlin commented softly, he was proud, except for the lord of the country, the holy woman, and the great Confucian Li Sansi, his status was really the highest.

When Zhang Yi wrote "Ai Lian Said", he mentioned the Eastern Jin Dynasty sage Tao Qian. This man loved chrysanthemums and fine wine, and also studied at Tao Yi College when he was young.

One year, when it was Chongyang, he picked chrysanthemums in Xiling Cuiwei Pavilion, but he didn't expect the wine in the pot, and he was stunned. He sat in the pavilion and waited for a long time, when a friend came with wine, and he was drunk before returning to the academy.

Many readers don't know this allusion, and when they heard Lao Hanlin mention it, they realized it, and their eyes looked at Zhang Yi even more strangely. Unexpectedly, Zhang Zhenguo needs to rely on Tao Xian's name to get out of the county, I don't know if this poem can reach the mansion?

Wang Dongzhi, who was sitting in the corner, couldn't hide his smile at all, he originally just wanted to provoke Zhang Yi, if the other party could really make a fool of himself, he would get what he wanted. But he didn't expect that Zhang Yi would be so weak today, and he would only get out of the county in two sentences.

Zhang Yi paused slightly, took in the words of everyone around him, and kept an indifferent smile on his face. Seeing Song Fu's worried eyes, he simply wrote out the remaining two sentences.

Rumble!

Layers of treasure light instantly appeared, filling the entire Nandu Palace.

"One floor, two floors, three floors...... My God, Seven-Layer Treasure Light!" The young man who lent Zhang Yiwen the treasure pen couldn't help but exclaim.

The entire scholars in the Nandu Palace were stunned by the sudden appearance of the five-layer treasure light.

The old Han Lin who was commenting stood up and grinned: "Song Fu, you old guy, why don't you recite Zhang Zhenguo's poems quickly." ”

After saying this, he couldn't help but sigh slightly: "It's a pity, it's a pity, if there is one more layer of treasure light, Zhang Zhenguo will have one more poem of Zhenguo." ”

Zhang Yi smiled silently.

Song Fu stroked his beard and smiled, and said, "But if you are going to be drunk and pay for the festival, you don't need to hate Luohui." This is the only way in the past, why should Niu Shan be alone. This poem is really amazing, and within a month, you will definitely be able to Zhenguo! Old guy surnamed Liu, you will not be in vain in this leisure. Zhang Yi, your poem can really be called a storm, which makes me worry about you. ”

(To be continued.) )