The crowd was silent, and the people who had not passed in the distance looked up curiously at the change of events, and when the name of the word plate came out, the words were passed on to the rest of the tables, to those who did not yet know what was happening.

"Linjiang Immortal? Who's writing the lyrics, and what's like this? ”

Wangyunlou is very large, except for the scholars and literati who watched the whole thing at the beginning, it is difficult for the rest of the people to know what happened, but poetry can always arouse people's interest, especially when the follow-up people found that even the prince of Yanwangfu and the political envoy of Beiping were waiting in silence, and they couldn't help but be more interested in the person who wrote the lyrics.

This Shangyuan poetry meeting, after going through the initial stage of stability, suddenly became twists and turns.

If it weren't for these conflicts, presumably this poetry would have developed steadily, the Confucians set a topic, and everyone frequently produced excellent works, commented on each other, and enjoyed themselves... It was supposed to be like this.

But now the atmosphere has become strange.

"The first sentence writes the scene, and the feeling of coldness and sparseness comes to my face... Although it is not atmospheric, it is really heartfelt. ”

"Bright Moon anthropomorphic? Who is comparable to the bright moon? ”

"Entering the scene with love, borrowing the scene into love... Wonderful! ”

After listening to Shang Yun, there were more and more people around, all of them had different expressions, but they all stretched their necks to look at the corner, not only not too impatient to rush up and lose the face of the reader, but also really interested in this word, and the movements of drinking were two points slower.

And the second half of the que has not come out for a long time, which inevitably makes people wait a little restless, the sound of silk and bamboo behind the curtain is upsetting at the moment, dozens of round tables, many people are buzzing people in a low voice, some people who don't understand poetry, such as the merchants in Beiping who came to join in the fun, or the woman who accompanied her husband's family, couldn't help but be infected by this emotion, her face became solemn, and she listened carefully to the words and phrases that she didn't understand.

And some of those who were originally writing poems couldn't help but stop at this time, looked in that direction with their pens in their hands, and frowned silently.

Until the next sentence came out:

"The most important thing is that after the silk is shaken, I will teach people to remember Chunshan."

This style is too different from the poetry style since the founding of the Ming Dynasty, neither can it be said that it is an antique work, nor can it be said that it is a new way, it stands to reason that a poem is good or bad, in the eyes of these top scholars in Beiping, it is easy to judge, but probably the atmosphere is too strange, at this time no one dares to speak loudly, make a conclusion about this poem, can only whisper two sentences with friends, still waiting for a new voice from the center of the storm.

"The dream of the skirt is intermittent."

At this time, the whole lyrics have come to an end, and the height is basically seven or eight out of ten, but the discussion is not only not loud, but smaller, starting from the crowd around them, a somewhat suffocating silence quickly spread throughout the hall, and everyone is waiting for the last sentence of this poem.

On the stairs, Zhu Gaochi's brows have been loosened, and he writes here... can already stop Zhang Hao's mouth, even if the last sentence of the finishing touch is a bit of a failure, it will not affect the situation tonight.

This dumb man is determined to lose his life.

He looked at the young man in the field, as if he saw in him the shadow of the monk that his father trusted the most, the same erudition and talent, the same way of doing things that made people scratch their heads, as if in this era when they could eat by literary talents, they regarded these things that made literati pursue worthless, but they believed in something else.

He sighed, waiting for the last sentence like everyone else.

Gu Huai, who was in the center of the storm, hesitated.

This song... It's not that it's bad, Mr. Nalan's pressing work, I can't find a few equivalent songs in the entire Ming and Qing dynasties, but at the moment, it seems to be a little weird.

But this can't be helped, who let the era of Tang poetry and Song lyrics and Yuan songs have passed, and they can't copy it if they want to?

He shook his head and wrote the last sentence hard:

"How much the west wind hates, it can't blow away the eyebrows."

Putting the pen away, the ink was not yet dry, and as the nearest scholar finished reading this sentence, the crowd did not erupt into any discussions, but looked strange one by one.

They got close, they knew what happened tonight, and just now Gu Huai beat Zhang Gongzi, and they could see it clearly.

Originally, I thought I couldn't see the righteous action to protect the county lord, why did this poem come out... Just changed the taste?

This is full of love and resentment...

A poem, looking at different angles, naturally there are different interpretations, combined with the scene just now, the scholars who came around naturally read this poem with a different taste.

Why is it that although the whole article seems to be written about cold willows, every word is written about resentment?

What's the complaint? Is it a gap in identity? Did the woman not look back?

Many eyes fell on the little county lord of Zhongshan Wangfu, thinking about her unpretentious color towards Zhang Gongzi, thinking that she personally sharpened ink for Gu Huai as the county lord, thinking that Gu Huai dared to make a move on Zhang Gongzi despite everything, thinking that Yan Wangfu actually came forward to defend such a down-and-out son-in-law...

At this time, only the old pedant who was old and had no mind dared to speak, and the old man who had angrily scolded Gu Huai for insulting Sven just now took two steps forward, and picked up the page of inked rice paper under Gu Huai's gaze.

I don't know if he remembered his deceased wife who had passed away, his eyes were a little moist: "How much hatred does the west wind have..."

He shook his head, with a trace of pain and sadness in the corners of his eyes: "It is true that the old man's eyebrows are crooked." ”

"There is something to say, almost grateful," the old man read it carefully, and sighed with some emotion, "Old man, let me ask you, this is the first work of mourning?" ”

"The old fellow is stupid to teach," said a scholar on the periphery in a low voice to his companion, "I don't know what that mean?" Also mourning for the dead... Isn't the little county lord standing there alive? ”

"Shh!!h You don't want to go to the academy tomorrow? Don't you know that the old man holds the most grudges? The last time he gave a lecture, Brother Chen laughed, and he commented that it was useless, have you forgotten? ”

There are many similar discussions, but the voices are very low, sounding like a swarm of bees, Lu Yuze, who was squeezed to the periphery, had a red face, slapped his hands fiercely, and came to praise him: "It is worthy of Brother Gu!" With poetic expressions... Or in front of the political envoy, he is really a model for my generation! ”

If Gu Huai could hear Lu Yuze's words, he might want to tear his mouth apart.

Seeing that he copied such a poem, the atmosphere at the scene was extremely strange, not only did not there be the situation of the loud evaluation last time, but also the expressions were strange, which made him scratch his head.

So he could only shake his head at the old man: "It's not a work of mourning." ”

What to mourn? Entering and leaving, Song Jia lives a good life, saying that it is a eulogy, who believes it?

As soon as these words came out, there was a sudden sound of gasping cold air, and many people's eyes flashed, and the secret way was indeed like this.

Zhang Hao's face turned pale, and he waved his robe sleeves and turned to leave.

And when Gu Huai looked back, Zhu Gaochi and Zhu Gaoxi's figure was gone, and Tsundere Lori also hung her head and ran away.

In a daze, only a group of soldiers came up...