A new song came out, and everyone was quiet. There is no way, when the Soviet-style poetry of the bold school monopolizes the chela, and Li Qingzhao of the graceful school has not yet been born. As soon as this word came out, it was suspected of establishing a mountain.

The people present were all scholars, and even those who raised people and scholars. The quality of the words is naturally known by listening.

What's more, no one has ever done this kind of euphemism.

The professor muttered to himself, if you listen carefully, you should be able to hear it. "Good words, good words! It's worth it! Alas! It shouldn't be done. ”

His heart was in turmoil.

This is a word that has never been seen, a word that has not been seen. Any one of them is enough to start a sect.

The literati are light. But who is also to be looked down upon?

After all, the existence of this kind of founding sect is bound to go down in history. How will history record this moment, and how will it record itself?

A jealous and jealous rotten Confucian?

The professor regrets that he has gained such a name for the sake of curing the disease, and it is really more than worth the loss. The son is reborn, why bother, why so!

At this moment when the word came out, everyone was in unison. Mao Shixue clapped his palms and laughed. "Oh! It's not a poem, it's a word, it's a word!

He thought he had found Ning Caichen's mistake, and he laughed proudly. It was as if at this moment, he compared Ning Caichen. "I know a poor scholar with an unknown name, and he knows what kind of poetry. Now it's exposed! I can't even distinguish between poetry and words. Do you dare to come to the literati festival?

He was laughing, and Ning Caichen also laughed and stood up, holding a wine jug in one hand, and chanted while drinking: "Look up to the sky and laugh and go out, how can I be a Penghao person." ”

Seeing that Ning Caichen was gone, Xu Xian picked up the words he had written, and immediately caught up, thinking: Such good words will not be left to you.

And Mr. Huang Ming is here to cheer. In fact, if it weren't for Xu Xiannian's poem Da Lei Ren, he would have been upset a long time ago.

Now as soon as the word came out, it was as if he had done it. He glanced at Mao Shixue with contempt and waved his big hand proudly. "Students, let's go!"

This kind of thing is most afraid that someone will take the lead.

Ning Caichen has clearly said that he will not enter the mansion to study. Since you don't want to enter, then deliberately making the poem into words has the meaning of refusal.

After all, no one will believe a person with such outstanding literary talents, saying that he can only write words, but not poetry.

All this can only be said that he did it on purpose.

At this time, Mao Shixue, who was still holding on, was immediately synonymous with idiocy and madness in the eyes of everyone.

If Huang Ming hadn't left the scene with one or twenty students, and other concerns about the friendship of classmates, how could his Lao Tzu's medical skills last until the end of this article. But one or twenty people left the scene.

I don't know how they got in. I would only think that I was also invited. Everyone else is gone, and if you stay, won't you become a person of Basil?

When literati make poems, there is no one who doesn't know this Li Taibai. Ning Caichen's name for this poem is also appropriate.

It's just that he's appropriate, and others can't keep him.

The professor sighed and left. "Alas, with this son here, I will never be able to come to Hangzhou again. ”

It was a literati event, and it fell apart in an instant.

Poetry and ambition.

Unconsciously, Ning Caichen actually fulfilled the ambition of a literati.

I saw that the luck of the white qi on his body was constantly turning red.

Those who study the Fa like them have official intentions themselves. It's just a secret, and it's not explicit.

It is said that he spit out the truth after drinking, and as soon as his Mingzhi poem came out, his natal official fortune really became erect. It's like water that has been animal for countless years, and once it is released.

Although Ning Caichen was drunk, he felt that his brain was extremely relaxed, as if the boulder that had been pressing on his heart for many years had been moved away.

Xu Xian saw that his uncle was so happy, and asked, "Uncle, what you just said about the chrysanthemum residue can still be understood." But this chrysanthemum is broken, how can it hurt so much that it hurts to the stomach. This is not a moon season, there is no hook and thorn. ”

"Don't understand?" Ning Caichen drank the wine and smiled.

poured a mouthful, and sang loudly:

The chrysanthemum is full of wounds

Your chrysanthemum has been turned out

Anal contraction breaks people's intestines, and you remember what is on your mind

......

The lyrics are absolutely silver. Fortunately, it was Xu Xian who was beside him, if those old scholars who were dignified on the outside but dirty on the inside, they would have listened to it. It is likely that the purpose of Mao Shixue has been achieved.

It's a pity that the innocent Zhengtai, where does he understand the heavy taste of modern people. Not only did he not understand, but also the two women he heard.

Don't get me wrong, these two women are definitely not the daughter of Fu Yin and her maid, if Ning Caichen is not drunk and there is no family around them, they may talk to Ning Caichen. And now, they can only stare at him with beautiful eyes open.

He was heard singing as another pair of master and servant. In the mountains, the master and servant duo were preparing to rush to Suzhou.

"Listen, sister, there's someone singing here. The woman in Tsing Yi said happily.

In this wilderness, except for snow, there is still snow, there is not even a human figure, and birds and beasts hide in their nests early.

For literati, watching the snow and appreciating the snow and reciting poetry is an elegant thing. But for those sisters who practiced deep in the mountains and came to the world easily, no matter how beautiful the natural landscape was, no one was interested.

"Sister, who do you think this is singing?"

Although the cultivation of the woman in white is higher than that of the woman in Tsing Yi, she has practiced in the deep mountains for thousands of years, and she can't understand the heavy taste of modern people.

In this era, no one understands it except for those scholars and doctors who love child prostitution.

The woman in white said, "Although this tune has a sad meaning, the singer has a pleasant tone. When he is a scholar who has no worries and is forced to say that he is worried. It must not have been made by him. ”

In the end, the letter is profound, and three or two sentences will be the bottom of Ning Caichen.

But Bian Tsing Yi Ruzi didn't believe it, but said: "I think this song is made by this son." And this son is also extraordinary. ”

The woman in white didn't argue, because she knew why the woman in Tsing Yi said that.

Since she subdued her, although she has admitted defeat in force, she has not really admitted defeat in her heart. It's just that I think that when I practice, I am longer than her, which is better than her one and a half moves. She still has a competitive heart.

I think it is, the demon is already wild and untamable, if it is so easy to be convinced, then it will become a domestic demon, and it will not be able to cultivate a human form.

She just smiled at the provocation of the woman in Tsing Yi and did not refute it.

But this aroused her competitive spirit even more, and she had to pull the woman in white to see if it was true or false.

The woman in white is fine, thinking that it will take a long time to get to Suzhou. In order to find people, they couldn't take off the clouds or drive the fog along the way, so they could only walk on two feet like ordinary people, which also made her suffer.

So he went with her.

Ning Caichen got down the manor on the hill, the qi and blood were moving, the wine was surging, and he couldn't hold it anymore all of a sudden, and sat on the snow. Under the alcohol, I don't feel pain.

Xu Xian thought, "Could it be that this is full of pain? Because I am drunk, it hurts." ”

Ning Caichen wanted to know that this pain in his stomach was put on his head by Xu Xian'an, and he had to knock him down.

It's just that what Xu Xian didn't notice was that the two women who were destined to be entangled with him for the rest of their lives met like this.

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