A poem through the ages! What a poem for the ages!

King Qi, as well as the four daughters, all stood up one after another.

They were waiting to see if the masked man in front of them was really as wild as he spoke, chanting a poem for the ages.

"Get out of the way!" Dongfang Yu roared hard at the people in front of him.

That roar! What arrogance, what a nobody.

The Confucian students around all around made way for a road.

There is contempt and expectation!

When he was in elementary school, when it came to memorizing poems, no one of his peers could surpass him.

In "Three Hundred Tang Poems", reciting a random poem is a quatrain for the ages, and these people in front of them are all Waji and local dogs! Can't see the world, can't go to the lobby.

It was also Liu Wenxin, looking at the manic man in front of her, and she couldn't help but secretly feel her heart. But! Driven by her heart, she is a woman with a husband.

Even if they haven't met yet, her heart has long belonged to King Qin.

In ancient times, although the identity of women was not as noble as that of men, they all adhered to the word "women's way" in their bones.

Of course! She was looking forward to whether this man's poetry could be as arrogant and arrogant as his temperament.

Dongfang Yu walked in slowly, knowing that in front of Su He and Su Xi, he said impressively: "Since the two are famous all over the world, then please let the two of you be a witness!" Don't wait for the poem to come out, neither of them will admit it! Wouldn't it be a big loss, and it would be difficult to distinguish if there was a mouth. ”

Su Ho said angrily: "Don't worry, the old man has some reputation and has done some masters!" ”

"So!"

"Very good!"

Immediately! It is to push away the crowd and spread out the white paper on the table.

"Yuwen Hu, polish ink for Young Master Ben!"

Dongfang Yu shouted at Yuwen Go.

"Okay!"

Yuwen Hu walked past everyone, came to Dongfang Yu's side, and began to grind ink!

Dongfang Yu picked up the brush and stood upright on the white paper, suspended in mid-air, unable to put down the pen for a long time.

Hahaha...

"Boy, you're writing!"

"I've been thinking about it for so long, I can't write it!"

Seeing that Dongfang Yu had not put down his pen for a long time, he thought that he was pretending to be a gesture, and the surroundings laughed unscrupulously.

It's not that Dongfang Yu doesn't put pen to paper, but! There are too many poems in his mind, just "Three Hundred Tang Poems", slowly searching, it is all troublesome.

Xin everyone, today! The younger generation has to use your poems to frustrate the spirit of these people.

The thick ink drips on the white paper, as if this black dot is the leading point of the poem.

Dongfang Yu has put pen to paper.

Break the show

Drunk to pick up the lamp to look at the sword, dreaming back to blow the horn company camp. Eight hundred miles of fire, fifty strings turned over the outside sound, and the battlefield was an autumn soldier.

The horse-made Lu was fast, and the bow was like a thunderbolt. But the king of the world, won the name before and after his death. Poor white happens!

This pen is free, as if there is a god between the pen, and under the big hand wave, it is the nostalgia of the great poet Xin Qijian for the battlefield and the military camp.

In a drunken dream, he lit up the oil lamp to watch the sword, and returned to the various camps of the year in the dream, and the trumpets sounded one after another. The roast beef was distributed to his subordinates, and the band played Northern Xinjiang songs. This is a military parade on the battlefield in the fall.

The war horses galloped as fast as the horses, and the bows and arrows were like thunder, deafening. (I) am bent on accomplishing the great cause of recovering the lost territory of the country for the monarch and gaining a good reputation for generations to come. Poor has become a gray-haired man!

The recovery of the Northland has always been Xin Qiji's lifelong wish. What a pity! When the gray hair is gray, it is still like Nanke's dream.

And after the final stroke, the original poem appeared in the eyes of everyone.

This poem is also sad, and it is also a description of the helplessness of not being able to recover the frontier.

Liu Wenxin was secretly pondering, Zhao Yazhi was at a loss, Dongfang Yue was extremely moved, Su Xi was already amazing, but King Qi was proud! Soho was even more shocked. The Confucian students around him closed their mouths, not daring to let out a breath of air.

Bang Bang Bang!

Immediately! King Qi's palms couldn't help but clap up, and his eyes were also extremely admirable, he had an incomparable love for poetry, and today's poem is comparable to a masterpiece.

"It's a poem, it's really a poem for the ages! This king admits that what about even the hundreds of years of Master Xuan? Compared with this poem, it has been overshadowed. This king admires, I think! As soon as this poem comes out, it will shock the world. ”

"Sir, I haven't consulted the daimyo yet." Dongfangtian, the king of Qi, actually bowed down very politely, how sincere this worship is.

Dongfang Yu slowly put down his pen and immediately said: "Hehe! The daimyo didn't dare to teach, and he had no name! ”

He can't say that he is Dongfang Yu! If this news is transmitted back, it will be worth it! Maybe! The crown prince and several princes, how many killers will be sent to save him from trouble.

Then he looked at Soho, "Master Su, the boy is indeed reckless, but now!" Did the kid win? ”

"It's... This..."

"What a poem! What a poem! Soho's trembling arms wanted to touch the broken poem, but he was afraid that his recklessness would damage the paper, "Old and clumsy, the poem of Mr. can be called a poem of the ages?" ”

"The old decay is here! Please ask Mr. Daimy! ”

Master Su, who is usually extremely arrogant, at this moment! actually bowed to a junior with admiration, and the Confucian scholars suddenly panicked. Meantime! Some celebrities among the Confucian scholars also shouted respectfully, "Please ask Mr. Daming." ”

At this time! Dongfang Yu is the world's poetry building, the most dazzling star.

"Hahaha..."

"Nameless people, what names! If you don't think I'm arrogant, call me a poet. Dongfang Yu laughed wildly.

Immediately! I'm going downstairs!

When Dongfang Yu was about to leave, Su Xi hurriedly shouted, "I don't know where Mr. lives?" Mr. is always welcome in the world's poetry building. ”

Dongfang Yu paused, "We will see you again soon!" This poem broke for a while, and it was handed over to the world's poetry building, so that the world's Confucian scholars could take a good look. ”

"Remember! The world's poetry building is a place where truly talented and knowledgeable celebrities gather. Isn't it for people who laugh and show their vanity? ”

See you soon!

After Dongfang Yu and the others left, they left everyone with a look of surprise, and they did not recover from the poetry for a long time.

See you soon! The four characters are enough to show that the mask man known as the "poet saint" should be a person in the capital.

And! King Qi had already seen that with the perception he had cultivated over the years, as well as his eyesight, it was enough to identify that the two of them should be from the military camp. And! It's not an ordinary soldier, just like a masked man who writes poetry, and between his gestures, he reveals the air of wealth and no! It's the same momentum as him.

"Ji Jian, go check for me, whose subordinate is the retinue called Yuwen Hu." King Qi observed it in detail, and immediately seized the loophole.

Then!

The poet No. 1, known as the "poet saint", wrote a unique poem through the ages, and immediately spread like a hurricane to all states and counties in the world.

Poet Hearer! Don't be amazed! Even the poems written by Master Xuan are difficult to compare.