Two pots of sake were in his stomach, and Han Fu was already slightly drunk.

Before and after, many literati gossiped and sneered.

Not all, if not all, but five or six out of ten.

Han Fu was like a swarm of flies, buzzing in his ears.

Among the literati and Confucians, Zhao Ziqian stood proudly, his eyes contemptuous, as if waiting for Han Fu to defend himself.

But he was not in a hurry to prove himself, and had other plans in mind.

Han Fu took a moment, turned around, and said with a smile: "This is a fine wine, if you don't drink it, I will drink it." ”

There were two people sitting behind them, and they also said a few words about stealing poetry, and they both chose to believe Zhao Ziqian.

First, Zhao Ziqian has been famous for a long time, and he is well-founded.

Second, Han Fumo said that the name of the article is not obvious, even if it is his person, no one has heard of it. Suddenly, it appeared and there were seven poems in a row, the first classic, which is really unbelievable.

At this moment, the situation is urgent, and as far as Qianfu pointed out, Han Fu only cared about drinking.

This attitude made the two of them slightly stunned, and then they looked displeased and frowned coldly.

"Burning your eyebrows but still wanting to drink, isn't it because you don't want to argue, and you broke the jar?"

"It won't last long to deceive the world and steal fame, but after a few days, the original form will be revealed. If you like to drink, drink it, for I am afraid you will not be able to drink such a good wine in the future. ”

The two looked at each other with blank eyes, but Han Fu disagreed.

He leaned sideways to take the flask from the back and smiled, "Thank you." ”

"Hmph..."

The two responded.

Han Fu turned around, too lazy to pour the wine again, held the wine jug high, the spout rushed down, and drank happily.

"Wait, the stronger the wine, the harder I start..."

At the entrance of the wine pillar, Han Fu closed his eyes and drank, letting the wine overflow, falling from the corners of his mouth, and staining his clothes.

Accusations of contempt are still heard.

"Dare to steal the poetry of writers, it is really bold."

"His Majesty ordered him to enter the rich that day, and he readily agreed, but now that he thinks about it, he must have no ink in his chest, and he is eager to climb to the rich."

"It's come to this point, he still only cares about drinking, thinking that what Zhao Wenhao said is not bad, he has nothing to do, in vain to try to get drunk and foolish."

"Alas... Baili Ming is famous for its wisdom, and it is also the three beauties of Dingxing. It's really sad to be married to this person. ”

"Heh... The writer only lost seven poems, and if he really had the ability, he could prove his talent by composing a few more poems. ”

"So what, look at the seven characters, some of them are old, they should have been written by Zhao Wenhao in his early years, this is ironclad evidence."

"Before Pei Guogong swung up, he had never heard of Han Fu. If he is really talented, even if he is not in Dingxing, he can be famous. How could there be only seven poems? ”

"The word writer is as heavy as a thousand pounds, and Zhao Wenhao will definitely not block his reputation for false profits."

"He's just a son-in-law."

"Stealing poetry and stealing fame is simply a shame for literati."

"He's a literati, but a thief."

For Han Fu, the accusers all sneered.

Some of the literati who had never spoken were in a different way, either thoughtful, or out of the way, or watching from the sidelines, or being distressed.

"Alas... Sister Mingsu, your marriage has been completed, but your husband is so young, my sister is not happy. Wang Luohe said tea and gloated. Between the twisting postures, it is charming and charming.

Lin Bingqing's three daughters were anxious, and they kept paying attention to Baili Mingsu's face, for fear that she would lose her temper because of this.

Lu Zhiyu stood on the side, looking at it quietly, but also thoughtfully.

Baili Mingsu's face was calm, and he couldn't see what he was thinking.

She looked at Han Fu for a moment, and saw that he was still drinking by himself, but she didn't know why this husband was doing.

It can be seen that Han Fu is calm and calm, as if he is waiting for a certain opportunity.

But Baili Mingsu didn't want to wait, and the various faces of many literati also made her tired of this place.

The left and right are just self-proof, and there is no difference between morning and evening.

Thinking of this, Baili Mingsu's footsteps moved slightly, stayed closer, and slowly recited: "Last night, the rain was sparse and the wind was sudden, and the heavy sleep did not kill the wine. I tried the curtain people, but the begonias were still the same. Do you know, do you know? It should be green, fat, red and thin. ”

With the entry of Baili Mingsu, "Like a Dream Order" was recited sentence by sentence, and it gradually became quiet, and everyone looked stunned.

Zhao Ziqian was secretly on guard, and his mind turned sharply.

Han Fu was quite surprised, couldn't help but smile and shook his head, so he continued to drink, and by the way, he appreciated the methods of this wife.

Baili Mingsu said: "This poem is also written by Zhao Wenhao, right?" When Han Fu entered the Zhou Mansion, he carried this manuscript with him. Zhao Wenhao thought about it carefully, whether he had lost a manuscript, and it was this poem that was recorded on it. ”

"Good words, good words..."

"This is a classic that has been handed down to the world, an immortal name."

"The language is fresh and the meaning of the words is timeless. The twist is ingenious, smart and natural, and it is really a good word. ”

"Green, fat, red and thin, it is really a superb brush."

Although this word is short, it is implicit and meaningful. Set off the scenery with feelings, compose and refine, light and dexterous..."

"Do you know, do you know? It should be green, fat, red, thin... Lifelike, still in front of you. ”

Without waiting for Zhao Ziqian to respond, many literati were already amazed, and words of praise were endless.

What's more, he is already indulging in the artistic conception of "Like a Dream Order", and his demeanor is enjoying it peacefully.

Even Wen Qingjuan and Qian Yue nodded again and again, their faces were amazing, and they couldn't help but savor it.

Zhao Ziqian woke up like a dream, and he didn't know what Baili Mingsu was thinking.

He secretly speculated that Baili Mingsu asked such a question, thinking that this word was written by Han Fu again, and he personally wrote it on paper.

Since this is the case, Baili Mingsu did not defend Han Fu, but asked him if he had such a word.

Thinking about it carefully, or the relationship between the two is not harmonious, Baili Mingsu does not trust Han Fu, but chooses to believe him.

Thinking of this, Zhao Ziqian pretended to be stunned and said with a smile: "This poem is indeed made by me." However, it was written by the attendant at home, so it was not framed, but I don't know where the backlog is. If it is on him, I think it will be lost. ”

The handwriting can be distinguished, Zhao Ziqian kept an eye on it, and the shirk was written by the next person.

"Is this it?" Baili Mingsu took out the manuscript of "Like a Dream Order", but folded it and did not show it.

"Like a Dream" is soft and graceful, she loves it very much, so she always carries it with her.

Zhao Ziqian looked at it fixedly, and saw that there was ink on the back of the paper, and he did not doubt him, nodded and said: "That's right, it's this one, the old man is impressed." ”

Seeing this, Han Fu couldn't help but chuckle.

Baili Mingsu nodded abruptly and said: "I see, but I don't know which person who wrote this word is the attendant of the writer's family, and his profound attainment in calligraphy has become a school of its own, which is convincing." ”

"Huh?"

Zhao Ziqian was stunned, puzzled, and secretly vigilant.

Baili Mingsu slowly unfolded the script, then turned the word outward, and said: "This word is unique, and I also asked Zhao Wenhao to call the attendant and let Mingsu look at his posture." ”

The distance was not far or close, Zhao Ziqian could not read the handwriting clearly, and was about to step forward to watch, but the great Confucian Sun Anmin was the first to get up.

"Little girl, show the old man."