Li Bai shook his head, and immediately put this idea behind him, this is simply impossible, Dugu Jiujian is a martial arts mastery in Jin Yong's novels, in "The Condor Heroes" and "Smiling Proud Jianghu", this kind of exercise is almost invincible.

Even those online novels of Long Aotian can't have such a powerful protagonist!

After all, look at how many chapters are there now?How do you play in the future?Just second to second second air every second......

Li Bai knocked on his head, where did he think? How could he have such a strange thought? What chapter? I know too much!

But since he couldn't figure it out, Li Bai didn't want to think about it, and looked down to see that there was only one stick left on the broom in his hand.

When did this break?

When I looked up, I saw that the broom head had flown to the branch.

I swung it too hard just now!It's over, if Elder Cobblestone sees it, he will definitely be scolded.

Li Bai flew up the tree and took off the broom head, and looked at no one around.

Oh?

When he first came out, he didn't notice it, but at this moment, he noticed that there was a person in the courtyard of the guest room on the left-hand side who was watching him.

Little girl?

Li Bai took a closer look, the little girl was estimated to be only thirteen or fourteen years old, sitting at the table under the eaves, holding a brush in her hand, as if she was writing.

"The little monk does not need to panic, the little woman came here from the capital to rest, and occasionally had inspiration, so she wrote poems here. Seeing Li Bai's confused expression, the little girl seemed to have guessed, and slowly put down the brush and said.

"Did you write these?" Li Bai blinked and stepped forward, only to see a few lines of beautiful fonts neatly written on the white rice paper.

Tangruo Jinshan Temple outside the city, the bell rings in the middle of the night.

Ancient people were really powerful, and a thirteen or fourteen-year-old girl could have such skills. Although Li Bai can't write poetry, he still has a level of appreciation, although it is not as good as the poems of those famous artists in history, but it also has a bit of taste.

This sentence is a bit similar to a poem that Li Bai remembers, so many questions for poetry appreciation in the college entrance examination are not done in vain.

The little girl didn't expect that this little monk sweeping the floor would come over, just saw where he was waving the broom indiscriminately, and waved the broom head to the sky and almost laughed, and thought that the little monk was crazy.

The little girl obviously showed a somewhat smug look on her face when she heard this: "I occasionally got two good sentences." ”

As soon as Li Bai wanted to speak, the little girl looked a little tired, glanced at him and said, "Is the little master planning to sweep the floor?"

The little girl who writes poems in the city on weekdays can also attract a lot of onlookers and admiration, but she is not happy because of this, but finds these people very annoying.

In fact, it was also because it was too annoying to be surrounded by those talented people in the city, so I deliberately came to Jinshan Temple to be quiet for a few days, but I didn't expect another little monk to come over.

If a little monk says that he can still understand Buddhist scriptures, but poetry is not something that ordinary monks who only know a few words can understand, and Li Bai seems to be only about eighteen years old, which is even more impossible.

There is only one situation, I don't know how to pretend to understand.

Li Bai couldn't help but feel a little strange when he was said like this, but he could see that the little girl didn't want to be disturbed, so he had to nod and leave.

However, this also made Li Bai understand that poetry still has a relatively important position in this ancient society, and if you really want to survive in this ancient society, you must learn some poetry.

It's just that Li Bai's current identity is not even a monk, let alone poetry, and he can't even write calligraphy.

That's right, the Dharma test needs to be answered with a brush, and you have to practice it.

Thinking of this, Li Bai shook his head, turned around and walked into the firewood room.

This firewood house is Li Bai's current residence, he cleaned up, vacated a vacant space, put the white rice paper on it, took a brush, and went to practice calligraphy.

But what to write?

How boring is that!

Li Bai thought about it, and then he had an idea, and wrote on the paper "swish".

A line of poetry leaps onto the page:

When is the bright moon? Ask the sky for wine!

This is one of Li Bai's favorite poems in his last life, Su Shi's words,

However, Li Bai looked at the font on the paper and couldn't help but shake his head.

The font is so ugly!

I couldn't tell what the words were, and the brush words were too difficult to write, so I wrote another sentence.

Turn Zhu Pavilion, low Qihu, shine sleeplessly.

Well!

Li Bai nodded, these words were written a little better, at least he could see what the words were: "Not bad, not bad, there has been progress." ”

But that's enough, and while the font is still ugly, at least let others know what it is.

"Knock knock!"

At this moment, the temple bell is struck, which is the wake-up bell.

It's over!

Li Bai then remembered that the temple had not been cleaned yet, so he hurriedly rushed out of the firewood room, and he couldn't take care of the door, if he was late, he would definitely be killed by the cobblestone, if it wasn't for Xu Lao's help last time, he might have been lying on the bed to recuperate at the moment.

......

At this moment, the sun has risen, and the whole day is bright.

The little girl stretched too, and the sleepless night made her look a little haggard, but there was a look of excitement on her face.

Although she was just disturbed by a little monk, she actually completed the two occasional verses, and she got a very good poem.

The Mid-Autumn Festival is coming, and the little girl is worried that there are no poems to take out at the poetry meeting, although this is not an excellent work, but at least it can be put on the stage.

The little girl yawned and fell asleep on the table.

The breeze blew through the mountains and woods, and passed through the big bell at the entrance of the temple, but brought out the paper in the firewood room.

The rice paper was blown into the air and floated around, and then fell to the ground and stuck a lot of dust.

After a while, the little girl was also woken up by the noisy atmosphere in the temple, and when she opened her eyes, she saw the rice paper that had fallen on the ground, and she picked it up casually.

What is it?

I thought it was the rice paper on her desktop that fell to the ground, but I found that the words on it were not written by myself at all.

The handwriting is sloppy and simply unrecognizable.

The little girl frowned, and saw that there was a pen, ink, paper, and inkstone on the firewood room in front of her, which had opened the door, could it be that it was floating out of it?

I remember that the little monk also came out of the firewood room, could it be that he was not convinced that he went to write poetry again?

"Hmph! I can't even write a font, how can the way of poetry be so simple?" the little girl snorted coldly, but continued to look down at the paper in her hand.

Mingyue has a ...... of wine

What the hell is this? I can't make out any handwriting.

Forehead?

Although the next line is also scribbled, you can vaguely recognize the handwriting if you look closely.

Turn Zhu Pavilion, low Qihu, shine sleeplessly.

The little girl read silently for a while, but her face became weird, but her heart was full of turbulence.

This...... How could there be such an artistic conception?

Just one sentence can make her think of a lot of things, and her thoughts stretch infinitely......

She bit her lip lightly, her eyes were a little gloomy, and she picked up the poem she had just written, but shook her head, put down the rice paper on which she had written the poem, and picked up the dusty paper again.

Just one sentence can make her abolish her new poem, and the little girl bites her lip and thinks deeply: Who is this little monk?

......