Qin Sheng was completely silent, because while he heard Yang Xiao say that he wanted to read out the poems, he was also very eager to know the poems made by Yang Xiao.

Suddenly, Yang Xiaozhen finished reading the poem he had written.

After reading the poems, everyone was looking forward to whether the poetry stele in the Temple of Literature was shocked by Yang Xiao's poems, so Jiang Cheng took the lead in walking into the Temple of Literature and walked in front of the poetry stele, and walked in with him Yang Xiao, who had just finished writing poems.

Yang Xiao was full of expectations for the poem he had just written, because in any case, he thought that the poem he had just made could be regarded as a masterpiece of poetry, but when he walked to the spirit of the poem stele, he was very disappointed, because since he finished writing the poem, a period of time has passed, but he has not seen the slightest change in the spirit of the poem stele.

Seeing this, Yang Xiao's face was shocked, and he slowly walked out with heavy steps with a lost look, and arrived in front of everyone.

When everyone saw Yang Xiao come out, they all asked Yang Xiao with an expectant tone if the poem had alarmed the spirit of the poem tablet, but when they saw the loss on Yang Xiao's face, they already felt that Yang Xiao's poem did not alarm the spirit of the poem tablet, which means that Yang Xiao failed to follow the right path with poetry.

Seeing Yang Xiao's loss, the old Confucians continued to comfort Yang Xiao, because they all had a common belief in their hearts, that is, the dignified capital of the old Confucians in Dao County could not be shocked by poetry, let alone go to a child Qin Sheng.

So, some of the old Confucians began to discuss.

"Elder Yang Yang, don't sigh, don't be disappointed, the poetry tablet is a holy thing, and no poem can be alarmed for many years, so Yang Lao doesn't have to mind. ”

"What Brother Wang Xiandi said is extremely true, Yang Lao Mo should be too low, an old Confucian like Yang Lao can't shock the poetry monument with poetry, let alone go to a child, he can't either. ”

"By the way, Lord Jiang, if Elder Yang and these children can't alarm the poetry monument with their poems, then how can we judge which of them has better poetry?"

After the three of them finished speaking, they didn't wait for Jiang Cheng to speak, because Jiang Cheng was also thinking about this outcome.

Qin Sheng on the side took over their topic, Qin Sheng said calmly: "Mr. Confucian, there is a way that ginger is old and spicy, if Xiao Sheng can't shock the poetry tablet with poetry, then there is no need to question the result, it must be Mr. Yang who won, and Xiao Sheng will naturally lose!"

In fact, although Yang Xiao knew that what they said was reasonable, he had also heard of Qin Sheng's poems that were shocking, that is, he had not seen it with his own eyes, but since there was a rumor, it may not be true, so Yang Xiao was a little worried, if he lost to a mere boy this time, how could he step down.

The old Confucians had also heard of Qin Sheng's poems that were shocking, but they were all very stubborn, they would never believe it if they had not seen it with their own eyes, so some of them deliberately spoke to attack Qin Sheng.

"A little child, even if you still have a bit of Confucian cultivation, the dignified Yang Lao can't, and you must not either, so the one who loses must be you good. ”

"I haven't walked as many bridges as Yang Lao, so what kind of competition are you talking about!"

"Yes, yes, it's a test to lift the child, if the child really has the poem and the monument of the poem, unless Kong Sheng is alive, unless the river flows backwards!"

Qin Sheng silently looked at the old Confucians' disdain and disdain for him, and said calmly: "Fellow old Confucian gentlemen, you have studied Confucianism and Taoism for many years, don't you know what self-cultivation is?

"Qin Sheng Xiaotong, do you hope, what do you think will happen, do you really think that you can do poetry and shock the poetry monument?

"Qin Sheng Xiaotong, don't say more, I don't have time to spend here with you, let's start! If you still can't think of it, just leave! I will never humiliate you!"

Listening to their extreme disdain and frustration, Qin Sheng still didn't look angry, because Qin Sheng knew that Confucianism and Taoism were actually humane in a person's heart, and at the very least, he had to learn the broad-mindedness and broad feelings in Confucianism.

Otherwise, no matter how knowledgeable you are, if you don't have the slightest heart of Confucianism, then it is not called Confucianism, it should be called domineering, so Qin Sheng still said at this time: "Since you old Confucian gentlemen look up to Xiaosheng so much, Xiaosheng will be ugly in front of your predecessors." ”

"Qin Sheng Xiaotong, stop talking nonsense, let's get to the point! If there is really a poem, read it out loud!"

Everyone kept urging, Qin Sheng had actually thought of a poem a long time ago, but it was still unknown whether this poem could alarm the poetry tablet, and he suddenly said: "Mr. Confucian, Xiao Sheng just thought of a poem made of numbers, please taste it." ”

"Digital poetry, what is digital poetry, is it a genre created by Qin Sheng Xiaotong himself? ”

"Digital poems, maybe not only that, but also three, four, five, six, seven, eight!"

When they heard Qin Sheng say the number poem, everyone constantly disdained and counted Qin Sheng, because in their hearts, numbers could not make poetry at all, so they humiliated Qin Sheng and insulted the so-called sage poems.

Qin Sheng didn't look down on them at all, because the poem he was going to read this time was "Snow Flower" written by Ji Xiaolan in the Qing Dynasty.

Suddenly, Qin Sheng silently recited: "One piece, two pieces, three or four pieces, five pieces, six pieces, seven or eight." ”

Qin Sheng only read the first two sentences, and he was laughed and shook his head by everyone, and they had discussions.

"What kind of poem is this! This is also a poem!"

"Don't look at who we are, dare to blaspheme poetry in front of us!"

"Master Jiang, there is no need to compare, it is impossible for Qin Sheng Xiaotong's poems to alarm the poetry monument!"

After Qin Sheng finished reading two sentences, he looked at everyone's indifference and indifference to him, and then said, "Xiao Sheng will continue to sacrifice ugliness!"

After speaking, Qin Sheng began to read again: "Nine pieces, ten pieces, eleven pieces, flying into the grass and disappearing." ”

After listening to Qin Sheng's poems, the old Confucians couldn't help but laugh.

"Qin Sheng Xiaotong, are you also a poem!"

"Qin Sheng Xiaotong, you are deceiving a three-year-old child!"

"Is this a poem?"

The only one who did not make a sound was Jiang Cheng, the head of the Dao County Academy of Literature, who was the opposite of those old Confucian thoughts, he silently repeated the poems read by Qin Sheng in his heart, and felt an unprecedented sense of picture in his heart, and at this moment, a sound that shook the earth came from the Temple of Literature.

At this moment, Jiang Cheng exclaimed, and all the people present also exclaimed, they were all guessing in their hearts, guessing whether the sound coming from the Temple of Literature was the sound of the poetry monument being alarmed.

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