Chapter Ninety-Seven: Jiang Rou's Talented Girl is Really Talented in Poetry!

Everyone had a lot of discussions, each with different opinions, some criticized Lin Yanchen, and some defended Lin Yanchen.

However, Jiang Rou, the leader they were hoping for, did not let them get their wish.

Not only did he not talk about the meal, but he also saluted respectfully to the eldest grandson.

"The little girl Jiang Rou has made a full poem, please taste it with Her Royal Highness the Princess!"

Damn, how can it be repaired?!

That group of young talents of the Ming Dynasty has already begun to scold the street at this time, and they have been engaged for a long time, so you don't want to protest, but to compose poems? !

However, this also reminded them that now is the first round of the poetry meeting, and the so-called meal is not a serious matter after all, and Jiang Rou's approach is not inappropriate.

"Yes."

Changsun Yue, who had just finished drinking water and was relieved, seemed to be a little impatient and waved his hand.

Jiang Rou didn't care, straightened her small and large-scale chest, looked at Lin Yanchen's side face and slowly said:

"Last night, the moon faintly blew and the wind blew, and there was no fishing fire on the river."

"Lying on the boat to listen to the insects in the rain, it should be green... The sound of dawn is thick! ”

Qingling's quiet voice ended, Jiang Rou continued to stand with a proud face, she wanted to use this poem to attract Lin Yanchen's attention, Princess Anyang's actions just now already had a sense of crisis in her eyes, if she didn't take the initiative again, she was afraid that Lin Yanchen would be snatched away by others.

"This poem should be a subordinate! Jiang Rou's talented woman is really poetic! ”

"It's a pity that if it weren't for Lord Lin's poems, this poem would have been famous in tonight's poetry meeting!"

"Heh, the one surnamed Lin didn't compose poems in front of us, and it is not yet known whether those poems were written by him! Anyway, I don't believe that someone my age can make three firsts at the same time! ”

"There is some truth in what you say, if he really has such talent, how can he be nameless?"

In the face of everyone's discussions, Changsun Yue just didn't hear it.

After all, Lin Yanchen was beside him, wouldn't it be embarrassing if he questioned on the spot?

"Ahem", she coughed lightly, smiled and praised Jiang Rou, "Jiang Cainu's poem is excellent, and there will be a reward in this palace when this round is over." ”

Lin Yanchen also glanced at it as if unintentionally, and cast an appreciative look.

As soon as Jiang Rou received it, she blushed, nervous and excited, faintly excited.

"Thank you, Your Highness Princess!"

After that, all the talented people were aroused again, and they racked their brains to make poems, just to get the praise of Princess Anyang.

As for meals......

Get out of the first place, how can there be a stunning princess important!

"Xiaosheng Zhou Yuanming has made a full poem, and I invite Princess Anyang to taste it!"

Soon after Jiang Rou, Zhou Yuanming couldn't help but make a move.

Although he had been brewing it for a long time, he wanted to stay until the final finale, so as to overwhelm the crowd and make a final decision, and at the same time, he was also more valued by Princess Anyang.

But Jiang Rou's song has reached the first level, and it can even barely be regarded as a work in the first class, and the one he composed is also a work in the first class, which already makes him feel threatened.

It's better to play early, lest there be any accidents that make his armor in the end mediocre.

"But, next time you read it directly, you don't have to be so restrained."

When they heard this, they wanted to vomit blood.

Doesn't this mean that you don't need to sign up for yourself and recite poetry directly!

The purpose of their poems this time was to brush up on a wave of existence and let Princess Anyang remember herself, but she still remembered Mao Mao if she didn't sign up like this!

However, they did not give up because of this, but clenched their fists one by one as if they had made up their minds.

"This time I have to make a unique song! Let Her Royal Highness Princess Anyang take the initiative to ask my name! ”

"The green clouds are wonderful, and the bamboo curtain is not empty. It should be green, and the sound is thick, and it has not reached Qingyu. ”

After that, there was another round of applause, among which the big Zheng talents in white Confucian robes were the most.

"Good!"

"Brother Yuanming is our role model!"

"Brother Yuanming!"

It's mostly bragging, flattery, and flattery.

is still the same reason, Lin Yanchen is shocking in the front, and it is difficult to see the latter again.

I don't want to admit it, but that's what it is.

They are jealous and even hate Lin Yanchen, but they admire his poetry from the bottom of their hearts.

It's like a woman who has experienced corn on the cob and has no interest in cucumbers.

There is no way, I could have endured the darkness, but I was biased over the light.

Even if a person is ugly, but he has a skill, there will still be women who are fascinated by it.

Therefore, these young talents are extremely complicated in their hearts at the moment.

In the end, jealousy turned into motivation, so many talented people got up one by one to compose poems.

Even Dugumo, who has been relatively low-key recently, can't sit still.

"A river of blue waves cut sycamores, and the dusk drum follows the morning bell. A pair of egrets should be green. ”

After that, he sat down and said nothing.

The hands of the Yasukuni geniuses who were just about to applaud froze on the spot, while the geniuses of the other two countries did not have so many scruples and sprayed whenever they wanted.

"Brother Dugu's words are good, but why does it feel like a patchwork?"

"Hahaha, maybe I'm just a shallow learner! Sounds a little unrhymed! ”

Lin Yanchen also shook his head silently, "Piling up rhetoric, there is no artistic conception, this poem of the prince of Yasukuni is really disappointing." ”

The eldest grandson Yue did not look strange between his eyebrows, and he didn't say anything.

When everyone saw that Princess Anyang didn't say anything about the reward this time, they knew in their hearts that they were not satisfied.

You don't just have to write a complete poem to get the princess reward, at least the quality is passable!

It is precisely because of this that those talents who couldn't wait just now also calmed down a lot, and then brewed and polished.

"Hehehe, it seems that no one has written poetry in a short period of time, so this palace will taste this pastry you made first, Lord Lin."

Changsun Yue picked up a piece of moon cakes of various colors that had just been served by the servant and put it in his mouth.

"If Your Highness wants to listen to poetry, why don't you come and compose a poem?" Lin Yanchen asked with a chuckle.

Eldest Sun Yue just wanted to nod, but the next moment he was directly stunned!

Delicious, superbly delicious!

The mooncake in her mouth is the only time she has seen it in her life!

She still didn't speak, and then she consumed the milky white snowy mooncake one bite at a time.

While savoring, he looked at Lin Yanchen with wide eyebrows.

"Lord Lin, you are also doing too well...... halfway through her words, she remembered her identity as a princess, so she pretended to be reserved and said, "Lord Lin, you should compose poems first, it just so happens that this palace also wants to witness you composing poems on the spot!" ”

Lin Yanchen didn't care much when he flicked his robe, he was used to it.

So he got up and arched his hand around.

"Everyone, it's better for Lin to make a song first, and the right to be ugly!"

As soon as these words came out, they instantly attracted the attention of everyone present.

"Lord Lin is finally going to compose a poem himself, I don't know if it's still a masterpiece!"

"Your words are completely unrealistic, Princess Anyang's title has already been sentenced, which limits the level of the poem to death, and it is almost impossible to make a first!"