After a long time, Qi Hua came back to his senses first from the words, and he praised with red eyes: "Absolutely, it's amazing, I seem to have seen my regrets for twenty years, the years are ruthless, and the people are not there." ”

"Dare to ask Childe, what is the name of this word? Is it a new word card? Just after the end, Red Sleeves, who had not yet written the title, asked happily.

Zhou Bai looked at the tall Pavilion Mountain, and said abruptly: "The water waves under the mountain wash the sand and stones rolling down on the mountain day after day. ”

When he first read this poem, Zhou Bai kept thinking about the story of Tingshan and the stream, which was once a big river.

"There are really natural poets in the world, no, you should call poetry a double masterpiece now, just wait for the musician to compose the music, and the major Qinglou will compete to sing it." Qi Hua recited lightly over and over again, looking at Zhou Bai's gaze full of heat.

The back of Zhou Bai's neck was cold, and he couldn't help but take a few steps back, and said, "Offering ugliness, it's just that I have some feelings about the mountains and rivers here." ”

At the same time, looking around the Canglan Pavilion, the others were no better than Qi Hua, they were all amazed and eager, and even had some respect.

In ancient times, there were seven steps to poetry, and now there are seven steps to become words, if the waves can be passed on, the people who participate in the poetry meeting are also the promoters of good stories.

"Oh? I didn't expect Brother Zhou to know about the landscape of the county town. At this time, a native of the county town asked suspiciously.

Zhou Bai's face was as usual, and he made a reminiscence: "Well, I have seen the legend here from the wild history miscellaneous books on the bookshelf. I heard that this stream was originally called Canglan River, which leads directly to the Ningjiang River, a big river in Honshu, and she has accompanied Tingshan through thousands of years, but she didn't expect it to be like this now......"

He didn't know if the mountain god of Tingshan was watching him, so he could only try not to make a mistake in his words.

The exchange and collision of Vances continues.

As the sun sets, the two sides of the pavilion are already full of poems, and pages of text and ink are fluttering with the breeze, as if they are spreading the literary atmosphere into the mountains.

Originally, the pearl jade was in the front, and the poetry meeting in the back should be more lively, but who called this pearl jade too shining, no matter what poems were made later, everyone felt that it was boring.

Sun Yucheng tried his best to write a good seven laws, if there is a literary manifestation, it is definitely red, but it did not make many waves in the Canglan Pavilion.

Of course, Qi Hua is fair, and with his ability to appreciate his own poetry temple, he insisted on hanging Sun Yucheng's seven-law poems behind the waves and sands, ranking second.

Although Qi Hua has been dragging out to gain fame after being admitted to middle school, Qi Hua's family education literacy is beyond doubt.

Qi's father's teachings, as well as the teachers hired by the family with a lot of money, are all celebrities.

The flock of birds returning to the forest in the mountains splashed with a sound, and the warm sunset cast a long oblique shadow on the Canglan Pavilion.

Qi Hua stood in the center with a wine glass, and everyone in the pavilion also expected something and got up one after another.

"There is no banquet in the world, the Tingshan Poetry Club is coming to an end, this is a small gift for you, thank you for coming to support Qi."

A row of maids held exquisite wooden boxes and sent them to everyone, and no one shirked them, but accepted them very tacitly.

When everyone was about to say goodbye and leave, Qi Hua reminded a group of people in the inner circle: "If the owner of Mobao in the first row is willing to give poems to Tingshan, you can stay for a while." ”

The people in the outer circle did not stay and left one after another, and several people in the inner circle shook their heads, as if they had known the inside story for a long time, and also took off the poetry shrine they hung and left.

"Let's go, this manuscript is still kept by myself, I heard that it can contain the literary atmosphere."

"Yes, if it's dedicated to the Temple of Literature or the gods of the imperial court, I haven't heard of the gods of Tingshan Mountain."

"Qi Gongzi I'm sorry, I still can't accept burning my own ink treasure......"

All kinds of discussions gradually dissipated with the departure, but there were not a few ink treasures left on the Canglan Pavilion.

Zhou Bai knew that this was the main event, but his face was full of doubts, and he looked at the crowd around him who were going down the mountain, and he also followed.

Unexpectedly, Qi Hua hurriedly ran in front of Zhou Bai, and said with an eager face: "Brother Zhou, wait a minute, please stay in this wave, even if I owe you a favor!" ”

The Tingshan Poetry Club started two years ago, and Qi Hua always burned the proceeds of the Poetry Club to Tingshan in the end, but he never asked anyone to burn it, which would stop Zhou Bai and set a precedent.

"Since Brother Qi has a request, of course I will agree, so can I go?" Zhou Bai smiled slightly and said generously.

Qi Hua looked at the dim color on Wangting Mountain, shook his head and said, "Brother Zhou, it's better to wait, there may be unexpected benefits." ”

At this time, the people in the pavilion did not leave, that is, Zhou Bai, Qi Hua, and Sun Yucheng.

Sun Yucheng didn't need Qi Hua to speak, he first took off the ink treasure and handed it to him: "Brother Qi sacrifices to the gods with texts, of course I can't miss such a lively event." ”

According to common sense, Sun Yucheng should also leave, and the first draft of the red poem of the descendants of the Qi family can be presented to the ancestral shrine.

But he met an old Taoist priest some time ago and instructed him to go to Tingshan to find opportunities.

Sun Yucheng recalled the chattering appearance of the old Taoist god, and thought that he wanted to cling to the Qi family's feng shui master, who expected that the current situation seemed to be different, stay for a while?

And if Qi Hua invites Zhou Bai, he will not leave.

Qi Hua smiled at Sun Yucheng and said: "Qi Gongzi's seven-law pen is full of ink, of course you can keep it, but these poems, presumably the mountain gods will not like it." ”

Zhao Liangji and the others were stunned, their faces immediately darkened, and they were suddenly ashamed and angry.

However, whether it is Qi Hua, the cavalry captain, or the Qi family behind them, they are not something they can offend, so they can only look at Sun Yucheng silently.

Where will Sun Yucheng be the master for them, he stepped forward and whispered a few words, as if comforting and promised.

In the end, only the three of them were left in the pavilion, and even a group of servants retreated to the intersection of the mountain to guard them.

If it weren't for Qi's mother's advice, she wouldn't have been driven home directly by Qi Hua.

The worship utensils are simple, with a wooden table with a sandalwood burner and a brazier.

Zhou Bai sniffed the lingering sandalwood scent, mellow and fragrant.

I don't know what this means, why not go online to worship? It's like smoking it to them.

Qi Hua put the three pages of poems into the brazier, the hand holding the fire fold was obviously a little tight, the fire flared up, and the three pages of rice paper were burned in just a moment.

The ashes blew into Tingshan with the cold night wind, Qi Hua was very nervous, the record of the ancestors could not be fake, it had been several years in a row.

"No, Qi Hua, you have a problem with this sandalwood?!" Zhou Bai suddenly felt dizzy in his head, as if he had been drugged, and he wanted to sleep very much.

However, when he woke up, it was too late, and the last picture before he fell asleep was Sun Yucheng lying on the steps out of the pavilion.

Zhou Bai thought of the little Qingshan Mountain God, unless the bond was too deep, otherwise most of them would meet in a dream.

Dreaming?