Zhu Qianwen raised his head and tilted his head.

A bird poop that fell from the sky almost fell into his mouth.

He shook his head with a dark face: "How could the inspiration for the article fall from the sky!" ”

Zhou Dagu looked pity: "I'm sorry, I forgot, you are not me, your sky, only bird poop falls!" ”

"How can you understand what it means to be an article, and you can get it by chance!"

Zhu Qianwen's eyes suddenly widened, and he silently recited this sentence: "The article is made by nature, and the magic hand can get it!" ”

"I already believe that you are really Zhou Dagu!"

Professor Han stood behind the two of them, he couldn't hear the words of outsiders on weekdays, but his ears were extremely sensitive, and he chewed on what Zhou Dagu said: "The article is natural, and the magic hand is it!" ”

Professor Han is a Confucian scholar with three products and two realms, but he is only a small professor of Fuxue, no one knows why, only he knows the reason.

But this question has been held in my heart for decades, and I can't say it to anyone for a long time!

The people who can listen to him are gone, and the problem can only be held in his heart.

Hearing Zhou Dagu's words, his head, which had been dull for decades, suddenly flashed with a flash of inspiration, and something slowly opened, but he didn't know it at the moment.

It's just that this sentence is more and more deeply remembered in his heart.

It seems to be somewhat more than the status of the words of the saint who have been reciting in the mouth.

He was strange, but he didn't know why.

Zhou Dagu didn't care about the crit of his words on the people around him, his eyes searched in the mansion, and a golden villain in the purple mansion was also constantly flipping through the books.

What the hell is it to write about!

Professor Han pondered deeply, and unconsciously walked into Zhou Dagu, Zhou Dagu leaned back, and he saw Professor Han with half of the buttons sewn on his body.

Dense seams?

Pregnant!

Zhou Dagu took the pen in Zhu Qianwen's hand and put it down.

In the middle of the school, it suddenly quieted down, and the students around surrounded him.

Zhao Sihu also stood on tiptoe, and his eyes couldn't help but hit the bookcase in front of Zhou Dagu.

Recently, Zhou Dagu stopped his pen and dipped in ink, and he read out the poems on the paper: "Thousands of hammers and a needle, upside down and upside down." ”

"This ......"

Niu Ruxian smacked his lips: "It's well written!" ”

Professor Han shook his head on the side: "You think it's well written, do you think this poem can be a good poem?" ”

"Articles, indeed, just something less!"

Zhao Sihu snorted even more proudly: "Of course there is less, there is less talent, but there is some pretentious limerick!" ”

"If the poem is written by the old master of Gewu, it is really good, and it can write the past and function of the needle!"

"But, you are Zhou Dagu!"

Zhao Sihu waved his hand left and right: "You guys are optimistic about the portal, don't let a fly fly out!" ”

At the door of the freshman class, there are also many students standing, and they seem to be young and old.

Many old people pondered Zhou Dagu's poems: "The writing is not bad, but it's a pity that the craftsmanship is too heavy!" ”

"This kind of literary style, it's okay to take the exam, but it's difficult to go up, if you can't change it, I'm afraid that you will be the same as me for the rest of your life, and you will become a stubborn stone in the school!"

"Who is this man?"

"Zhou Dagu!"

"Zhou Mingzhou? No way! ”

"How is it possible, Zhou Dagu is just this bit of poetry!"

In the school, no one doubted that it was not a literati who wrote poetry, but they all began to wonder if he wrote Zhou Mingzhou, who had promised to be the world's first-class.

Zhao Sihu heard everyone's suspicions, and only felt that the victory was in his hands.

The talent of one inch high in poetry shows that this ingenious poem has been out of the county.

He knew that the person in front of him was indeed Zhou Mingzhou, but so what, I can wronged you, how can I not know how wronged you are.

Zhao Sihu sneered, does the truth matter?

The important thing is that if Zhou Dagu enters the mansion today, it will be difficult to get out!

He saw that on the original manuscript of the poem, the one-inch high talent, and the guilt in his heart was much less, and there was no shortage of talented people who wrote artisan poems in Xiangzhou.

Zhou Dagu heard everyone's words, but he didn't care.

He knew this poem, and this poem was different from other poems, some poems were handed down from one poem to the world, but only the last line of this poem was handed down.

Others, not well known.

It's normal to have no talent.

He shook his head and whispered, "Don't rush to slap your face, it's coming more slowly!" ”

Zhou Dagu recovered some of his talents, and then put down the pen: "The eyes are on the buttocks." ”

"Hahaha!" Zhu Qianwen beside him couldn't help laughing, even if he didn't learn and didn't know how to do it, he knew that this sentence could only be regarded as a common saying, not a poem.

The flow of, pee and fart, in the eyes of these self-confident and high-minded talents in Fuxue, is the most unpopular poetry.

Niu Ruxian, who was standing next to him, admired Zhou Dagu's poetry more and more: "This scholar has my style of writing poetry!" ”

Professor Han stepped forward, his blurred vision slowly became clear, and he saw clearly from the crowd, the article on the paper: "The butt grows on the eyes, this ......"

"Vulgar!" Outside the door, there were already old pedantic people scolding.

Lao Juren is in his fifties, and according to the law, he should have gone to fill the vacancy a long time ago, but in order to get admitted to the Jinshi and enter Hanlin, he has always refused to go to a remote county to be a county official.

Naturally, he couldn't tolerate such vulgar words in his eyes: "How can this kind of poetry be written in the holy land of Fuxue, this is not an insult to Fuxue!" ”

"Kick him out, can't let him finish writing!"

Zhao Sihu stood up, like a kind person, and opened his mouth to comfort: "Lao Mu, don't worry, let him finish writing, people still have to rely on this vulgar poem to prove that he is Zhou Mingzhou, who is extraordinary in poetry!" ”

Zhao Sihu looked proud, he didn't have to open his mouth now, with this poem, no one in the school would feel that Zhou Dagu who wrote poems in front of him was Zhou Dagu.

"Alas! I didn't expect the demons of the Lotus Sect to be so stupid! Zhao Sihu looked at Professor Han, but found that he was staring at Zhou Dagu with a frown.

When Professor Han came out of the inner hall, he saw a person, and he learned from that person's mouth that the person in front of him was Zhou Dagu.

Therefore, he did not doubt Zhou Dagu's identity.

It's just that how could Zhou Mingzhou write such a vulgar poem, is Zhou Mingzhou's nickname fake?

Wrong!

Professor Han stepped forward, and he saw that the talent on the bookcase had not weakened because of this crude poem, but was growing.

The poem is not completed, and the talent is related to the feelings expressed in the poet's heart.

Isn't this little poem as simple as you see it?

Professor Han had expectations in his heart, and this expectation was not only because of Zhou Dagu's name, but also because of the vision of the person who had just spoken to him.

He believed that the man would not come to him because of a piece of scrap.

Zhou Dagu lowered his head, and all the talent in his body poured into his hand, this famous sentence through the ages finally broke away from his brain, relied on the support of his talent, and fell on the pen.

Poetry landed.

In an instant, the golden light in the school soared!