Silent Night Thoughts?

Rue Xiang was stunned when he heard the title of the poem, there was no such title in the few poems he gave Rong Fei, and Rong Fei didn't look at the paper he stuffed into him at all.

Could it be that Rong Fei did it himself?

"The bright moonlight in front of the bed is suspected to be frost on the ground. Raise your head to look at the bright moon and bow your head to think of your hometown. This poem... It's average."

Fan Jian muttered to himself, and then turned his head to look at the people beside him, only to see them frowning and contemplating, their lips squirming and muttering.

"The words are very simple, the artistic conception is excellent, and the poetry is good!"

Hanlin Xu Jingchuan praised in a low voice while brushing his beard.

"Back to basics, deep affection, it is indeed a rare masterpiece."

Another Hanlin Kou Yucheng couldn't help but say.

However, both of them accepted Ren Jinhan's silver money to support the field here, so they deliberately lowered their voices to prevent others from listening to them.

After listening to the poem, I felt sour in my heart and almost burst into tears.

This poem is clearly Rong Fei's remembrance of his hometown of Danzhou and those relatives who died in the disaster.

Ren Jianhan, Fan Jian and others, who know poetry, are silent.

Ruexiang, who thinks she understands the feelings contained in the poem, holds back her tears and writes hard.

The upstairs and downstairs onlookers waiting to see the excitement were disappointed, and Rong Zhutou still chanted poetry. How boring, the big guys want to see you soar.

Naturally, there are people who understand poetry among the onlookers, but at this time, they are all immersed in the artistic conception depicted by Jing Yesi, and they have not had time to react.

The girls who had been in contact with Ruexiang's personal maid felt some strange atmosphere in the building, looked around and didn't know what to do, and hesitated whether the cheap ornaments they had collected and hidden in their arms should be thrown down.

After the recitation of a silent night thought, no one applauded or supported it.

The turtle who was in charge of recording in front of the flower list was also a little confused.

This poem sounds very good, and it shouldn't have no support.

Ignoring the reactions of the others, Rong Fei cleared his throat and continued to recite on his own.

"The lake and autumn moon are in harmony, and the surface of the pond has no goggles and has not been polished..."

"Three or two peach blossoms outside the bamboo, the prophet of the plumbing duck in the spring river..."

"Eight hundred miles under the command, fifty strings turn over the outside sound, and the autumn soldiers on the battlefield."

Memory flashbacks.

"These ancient poems will be memorized for me after I get home from school tonight, and I will check them one by one in class tomorrow, and whoever can't memorize them will go to the corridor and stand and write them fifty times."

"Rong Fei, "Remembering Jiangnan"

"Jiangnan is good, and the scenery is old. The sunrise river flowers are red, and the spring river is as green as blue, can you remember the south of the Yangtze River?"

Rong Fei gradually found the feeling of being named by the teacher to recite ancient poems when he was in elementary school in his previous life, speaking very fast and pronouncing words clearly, but without the slightest emotion.

After reciting more than a dozen ancient poems in a row, Rong Fei's speech speed became faster and faster, so that the people around him didn't have time to carefully ponder the subtleties of each poem, so they could only prick up their ears and carefully write down every word and word that came out of Rong Fei's mouth, for fear of missing something. Z.br>

Rue Xiang was even more embarrassed, and she couldn't care about the dignified beauty of the handwriting, so she brushed and brushed the pen like flying, just to write it down word for word.

But even so, he still couldn't keep up with the speed of Rong Fei's recitation.

Xu Jingchuan and Kou Yucheng, the two Hanlin editors, also completely forgot where they were, and after a brief discussion with Ruxiang, they each occupied a table and helped write a record together.

"Wait... Wait a minute."

The more Ren Jinhan listened, the more he felt that something was wrong, and his face became more and more gloomy.

Although he didn't have time to carefully ponder and taste, he still realized that the dozen or so poems recited by Dao Rongfei were high-quality poems, and even superb poems that had been passed down through the ages.

Are these all honorable and non-doing?

Wouldn't his poetic attainments have reached a very high level in the past and the present, and it is not an exaggeration to call him the first poet in the ages.

Ren Jinhan didn't believe it, Fan

Jian didn't believe it, Yue Pengzhai didn't believe it, Zhang Liulang didn't believe it, and all the people who participated in the poetry meeting didn't believe it.

So as the organizer of this poetry meeting and the initiator of the action against Rong Fei, Ren Jinhan felt that he had to stand up and save the situation.

After reciting more than a dozen poems, Rong Fei happened to feel a little thirsty, so he asked the maid for a cup of herbal tea to moisten his throat, and then asked Ren Jianhan.

"What does Ren Gongzi have to teach you?"

"You wrote all these poems?"

"No, I don't have that ability."

Rong Fei smiled shamelessly.

Whew~ It's good if it's not, it's good if it's not.

The literati suddenly breathed a sigh of relief when they heard this.

If these peerless envoys and good words are all made by Rong Fei, then how will they be mixed in the future, and where will they still have face.

"If you didn't do it, how can you chant here."

Ren Jinhan asked.

"Why can't you chant? You only said that you wanted to fight poetry, and I also promised to recite poetry, so I could only recite my own works without explaining in advance."

Rong Fei quibbled.

"The purpose of the poetry meeting is to showcase our talents, appreciate each other, and evaluate and discuss with each other. How can you plagiarize other people's painstaking work in such a blatant manner. Such acts are not only shameless, they are simply shameless."

Ren Jianhan was also a little shocked by Rong Fei's shamelessness, and reprimanded incoherently.

"How can you say it's plagiarism, but there is evidence?"

"You just admitted it yourself, and everyone listened to it very well."

"I said yes, then I'm saying no now."

"You..."

"I, what I am. Ren Gongzi, you are also a scholar, you can't be untrustworthy. Accuse me of plagiarism, okay. Then I'm going to ask Ren Gongzi, who did I plagiarize? You let him stand up and confront him face to face."

"How do I know whose poems you plagiarized?"

Ren Jinhan was angry and trembled.

"I don't know where you're fooling around, where are you staying, Rong is carrying someone on his back, don't bother me."

After some nonsense, Rong Fei no longer bothered with Ren Jinhan, coughed a few times and cleared his throat, and continued to recite ancient poems.

"It's raining a lot during the Qingming season..."

"Alone in a foreign land, a stranger..."

"April in the world is full of flowers..."

"Brother Ren, there is some truth in what the surname Rong said, these poems can become famous passages that have been transmitted through the ages, it stands to reason that they should have been praised to the world a long time ago and are familiar with them, why have they never heard of it. If only one or two songs were enough, this guy has now recited more than 20 songs, and the first songs are all moving works, this... This... It doesn't make sense."

Fan Jian no longer had the brute strength he had before at this time, and looked at Rong Fei, who was shaking his head and reciting poems on the other side, and said with a helpless face.

"No way!"

Ren Jinhan gritted his back molars and denied.

"The artistic conception contained in these poems, the techniques used, including the style, deep meaning, etc., are all very different, how can it be that they were written by one person. Even the poet immortal on the mountain of books can't easily control so many styles, so it must be plagiarism. It must be, it must be."

"But... What about the proof?"

"Fan Jian, which side are you from?"

"I..."

"Outside the Mountain, Castle Peak Building..."

"Rong Zhutou, dare to ask which state this "Hangzhou" is? Forgive me for my shallow knowledge, which is really unheard of."

Xu Jingchuan took advantage of the short gap when Rong Fei had just finished reciting "The Title of the Residence", and asked for advice with a humble attitude.

"And this 'Bian Zhou', I only heard that there is a small city called Bian An in Qingzhou in the south. But it's a slight modification for the rhyme."

Kou Yucheng also hurriedly asked.

"The absence of Hangzhou now does not mean that there was no Hangzhou a thousand years ago, and the absence of a thousand years ago does not mean that there will be no one after a thousand years. The important thing is feelings and deep meaning, and not to dwell on the details."

Rong Fei

While drinking tea to moisten his throat, he said nonsense.

Hiss!

Xu Jingchuan and Kou Yucheng's faces changed drastically when they heard this, and they gasped. After glancing at each other, they bowed respectfully to Rong Fei.

"Students are taught!"

As soon as the two Hanlin editors made these words, all the scholars and scholars who participated in the poetry meeting immediately changed color.

This...

Ren Jinhan's face was even more green when he was angry with these two people.

Ben Gongzi paid the two of you to dismantle the stage, right?

With a cup of herbal tea in his stomach, Rong Fei asked Chao Ruxiang energetically.

"How many are there?"

Rue Xiang raised her sleeve and wiped the sweat on her forehead, moved her sore wrist a few times, and counted the poems recorded by Xu Jingchuan and Kou Yucheng, and looked at Rong Feidao with adoration.

"Back to my lord, there are thirty-four songs."

"There are still two songs left, let me think about it again."

Rong Fei scratched his head and said.

The entire poem that he could remember for the time being had already been memorized, but Ren Jinhan and his side had made a total of thirty-six poems, but there were still two less.

So I can only search my stomach and think about whether there are any omissions that I haven't remembered.

"My lord, Rue has a reluctant request. If you can choose one of these poems and give it to Rue, just one of them."

Rue Xiang tugged at the belt of her waist and begged with some embarrassment.

"Not good."

Rong Fei shook his head without hesitation.

Rue Xiang's delicate body trembled when she heard this, and she almost cried.

Although she had just met Rong Fei tonight, Rue Xiang thought that with the relationship between the two, it was not an excessive request to ask for a poem. I never thought that Rong Fei would be so stingy.

"These poems are good, but they are not for you. Why don't you listen to this one first, and if you don't like it, then choose from the previous ones."

"Ahh

The peak turned around, and Rue immediately turned sad into joy.

"The clouds want clothes, the flowers want to look, and the spring breeze blows Revlon. If it weren't for the jade mountain, it would meet Yaotai under the moon. How's that, like it or not?"

"Great... My lord, this... This... The poem is... Just for me!"

Ruxiang's delicate body trembled, and she could only hold on to the table to stabilize her body, with a hint of crying, and confirmed to Rongfei in disbelief.

"It's just a poem, a little meaning."

Rong Fei waved his hand in a chic manner.

"Counting this one, there are already thirty-five songs, and there is still one song missing, so it's better to sing that one."

After appeasing Rue Xiang, who was about to faint with excitement, Rong Fei pinched his chin and thought.

Since it's the end, it's definitely going to be beautiful.

The kind that has a high intention and can shock people's hearts.

But I don't remember much.

At this time, whether the people in the building understood the poems or not, they had been shocked by Rong Fei's feat of singing thirty-five poems in a row. Seeing that there is still the last one, Rong Fei also rarely began to ponder, this is holding back the big move.

They all looked forward to it even more, holding their breath one by one, for fear that the sound would affect Rong Fei's poetry.

And the hundreds of dust maids and maids in the building were already jealous of Rue Xiang and were about to go crazy.

With this poem by his side, in the selection of Oiran after January, Rue Xiang will definitely be selected as one of the four major Oiran again, and it is even very likely to become the leader - the king of flowers.

Hey! Pregnant.

Rong Fei suddenly thought of an excellent article that could be used to wrap up.

The "Story of Yueyang Tower", which worries the world first.