"My way of practicing is to compose poetry. ”

......

Under the moonlight, Zhao Hongqu talked eloquently,

"Confucian practice is nothing more than the recognition of the will of the Confucian saints. Specializing in Confucian and sacred knowledge, reading and interpreting characters is practice, and preaching and receiving karma is practice. Composing poems and writing lyrics is also a practice. ”

A yellow scroll appeared out of thin air in Zhao Hongqu's hand, threw it in front of Li Xijing, and said confidently:

"In the Confucian lineage, those who are better than their senior brothers in terms of knowledge and cultivation are still the old guys of their generation.

But in terms of talent, there is no one in the entire Great Xia who can compare with Senior Brother and me.

These are some of the poems I wrote in my early years, so let's take a good look at them. ”

Poetry......

I don't know it myself, but I have a lot of it in my head...... Suppressing the emotions in his heart, Li Xijing took the book and read it.

At this time, the moonlight was bright, and after I started practicing, my eyesight became extremely high, so I could read the words on the book directly without a lamp.

Good guys, the cover is "Anthology of Red Yeast Poems".

Red Yeast Rice Poetry ...... Is this name, seriously?

Li Xijing felt a breath of middle two instantly rushing to his face.

Turning the first page, there is actually a note:

"At the age of sixteen, he feasted on his teacher and returned home after drinking. ”

"Break the bar

In the middle of the night, the pine velvet is like ink, and the smoke is light and the willow is supporting the clouds.

The high branches outside the fence are long and moonlight, and the slanting wind on Mo urges the sound of the sword.

The green lantern shines on the evening pavilion.

After three rounds of drinking, he was slightly drunk, and he walked alone under the moon in single clothes.

Seek to be truly comfortable in the world, and let the floating utilitarian fame be born.

The sky is high, and the people are green. ”

Hey, it doesn't seem to be outrageous......

Li Xijing doesn't know much about poetry, and he can't tell whether a poem is good or bad.

I just think that this poem is more comfortable to read, and it is quite in line with the temperament of the senior brother, which is much better than he expected.

Flip back again.

The remarks for this one are:

"A single man, indignantly inscribed a poem. ”

"Dusk groans

The sky is close to dusk, the evening wind is cold, and the solitary shadow is slanting from the sun.

Visitors have the heart to appreciate the peach and plum, and the passerby has no intention of attracting flowers and butterflies.

Fan cage is difficult to complete the poem, and there is no shortage of wine outside the world.

Looking at Fengyue outside the red world, he has always been chic. ”

It does seem like there's something......

Li Xijing was a little surprised, he originally thought that poetry culture was unique to China.

This person from another world, even if he writes poetry, his level must be a mess.

After reading the two songs of the senior brother, it turned out to be much better than he imagined.

And with such a thick book, there are hundreds of poems, no wonder the senior brother said that he became a genius of Confucianism just by writing poems.

Flip back again.

"At the age of nineteen, I was a guest in Tangshan, defeated all my peers overnight, felt the loneliness of life, and made it on the way back at night. ”

Isn't that the rumored Taoist orthodoxy in Kyoto?

Senior brother was so fierce back then? Li Xijing swallowed his saliva and suppressed the shock in his heart to look down.

"Set the storm

The empty mountain returned alone at night, and the cold wind and drizzle covered his eyebrows. The light under the corridor is dim and bleak. Fallen leaves and branches are scattered.

The clouds are thousands of miles away from the moon. The afterimage under the lamp is always with you. Why bother to lose a long night? The rising sun of the Ming Dynasty returned to the east. ”

“......”

After watching it one by one, Li Xijing finally knew that his senior brother was not exactly bragging.

Although these poems and lyrics of the senior brother are certainly not comparable to the cultural crystallization accumulated in China for thousands of years, they should still be rare in this world.

But...... You can become stronger by writing poetry......

Isn't that ......

Li Xijing's heart gradually became rampant.

We can't do anything else, there are really a lot of poems......

......

Zhao Hongqu looked at Li Xijing and almost read his poetry collection, and smiled indifferently:

"I think you have already had some inspiration, tonight is just right, late autumn, the moonlight is pleasant, you take this opportunity to compose a poem to see.

If you can have a good work, it proves that you can also follow the path of a senior brother and teach with poetry.

If you can't make a good poem in three hours, then you can only honestly go back to the academy to read and understand. ”

The young man in white waved his sleeves lightly, and a complete set of four treasures of the study appeared on the stone table.

"Senior brother, you think first, senior brother won't bother you first, and after three hours, senior brother will come to see you. ”

Zhao Hongqu said as he was about to leave the pavilion with his hands in his hands.

Li Xijing stopped him directly: "Senior brother, slow down." ”

"What's wrong?"

"Senior brother thinks it's ......"

Li Xijing took a deep breath and said, "I have already made it." ”

"Huh?" Zhao Hongqu looked at him with some disbelief.

What are you kidding? It will take a few quarters of an hour for Senior Brother Ben to write poetry......

Li Xijing didn't talk nonsense, coughed lightly, and started to pick up the pen directly.

In order to get stronger......

I'm going to start beeping!

......

Lines of handwriting slowly appeared on the rice paper on the desktop.

"When will the bright moon have ......?"

......

......

Loan City, in a certain mansion.

The broken walls, door panels and roof in the lobby have not been completely repaired, and the three old men sit under the laurel tree outside the lobby, drinking tea and chatting.

"Old man Fang!"

Yang Lianshan stared at Fang He with a hint of anger:

"What do you mean by handing over that Li Xijing to Zhao Hongqu and that little bastard to teach?"

Fang He smiled indifferently: "What are you afraid of, Hongyi is just arrogant with a few of us old guys, and he is still very kind to his peers." ”

"I'm afraid that Zhao Hongqu's little bastard will teach that kid badly again. ”

Yang Lianshan was worried, and a Zhao Hongqu gave him a headache.

"Not really, not really. Fang He smiled and waved his hand, changed the topic and said:

"Old man Yang, I gave him your sign today, and when the kid goes to the Taoist Academy, you should pay attention to it and open the back door more. ”

"Alright, you've said it countless times. ”

Yang Lianshan shook his head impatiently, and asked rhetorically: "I will let people teach him what should be taught, and it is up to him whether he learns or not."

I say...... Are you two really that optimistic about him?"

"What if you're not optimistic?"

Zhu Ting took over the topic expressionlessly:

"It's not that you don't know the conditions for opening that door, and now you finally have a glimmer of possibility, and you have to bet all on it if you don't like it. ”

"That's it, you see how transparent Lao Zhu thinks. Fang He followed and persuaded.

Yang Lianshan shook his head and sighed helplessly, "I just hope that the bamboo basket will not be empty." ”

Fang He smiled, and was about to answer, when he suddenly sensed something, he suddenly raised his head and looked at the night sky.

Zhu Ting on the side also reacted similarly, his old face froze, as if something terrible had happened.

"What's wrong with you two? Why are you suddenly like a ghost?"

Yang Lianshan was confused by the reactions of these two people, and couldn't help but ask out loud.

Fang He and Zhu Ting didn't have time to pay attention to him at all.

The two looked at each other.

Zhu Ting: "Is it him?"

Fang He: "It seems to be ......"

......