No, gentlemen also guard against

Chapter 540 [Craftsmanship] Sword Technique, Legendary Sword Master! (Please give me a monthly ticket!)
Xunyangfang and Xingzifang, as the two largest lanes in Xunyang City, are located on the east and west sides of Xunyang City respectively, echoing each other from a distance.

Xunyang Ancient Ferry is located in the middle of the two lanes.

Xunyang Tower is located on the easternmost side of Xunyangfang, close to the Xunyang River and the bustling long street.

A cold figure of a girl in palace attire passed by Xunyang Ferry silently, left the boundary of Xingzifang and entered Xunyangfang.

Along the way, the black-armored soldiers and white-robed female officials who had imposed martial law and blocked the streets in Xingzifang saw her figure, all looked awed and automatically made way for her.

For a moment, he became the focus of attention on the quiet street, watched by a pair of cautious eyes behind the double doors.

The large Xingzifang has been fully controlled, and all households are ordered to stay at home unless there are special circumstances, and they will be subject to door-to-door inspections by female officials and soldiers.

Although all the unofficial qi practitioners with blue and red "qi pillars" were all slaughtered by Si Tianjian's qi practitioners and black-armored soldiers.

But the unfinished music of the piano still lingers inside and outside Xingzifang.

At the construction site on the other side of Xingzi Lake, Lin Cheng, Wang Lengran, Yuan Huaimin and others were installing the Buddha's head and returning it to its place.

Under such circumstances, a certain female historian neither went to the Xingzifang construction site to guard the Donglin Giant Buddha and united her body and head on time, nor did she go to search for the mythical tripod sword with Wei Shaoqi and others.

……

Perhaps because of the blockade, or perhaps because of the distance, the storm in Xingzifang has not yet been fully transmitted.

"Looking at the literary circles of this dynasty, the chrysanthemum poem that has been talked about most and ranked as the best in poetry gatherings since the founding of the People's Republic of China is the "Chrysanthemum" written in the eighth year of Zhenyuan... The autumn bushes around the house look like the Tao family , all around the fence is getting more and more sloping. It’s not that chrysanthemums are preferred among flowers. There will be no flowers when all the flowers are in bloom...

These are some of the traditions of poetry gatherings in Xunyang City. Once there are any outstanding poems at the poetry meeting, they will be spread out immediately. Among these audiences, handwritten or oral transmission can be spread throughout Xunyang City within half a day. , became famous.

It was true that all the female officers and the generals who led the team were puzzled. They thought she had something important to do, but no one dared to ask.

Rong Zhen quickened his pace and walked all the way to the long riverside street on the east side of Xunyangfang without looking back.

Mingming had been dreaming of this day before, to catch all the traitors including the owner of Dielianhua and reveal their true colors.

The west wind blowing the thin rain curtain slightly dispersed the smell of blood on her dress. Although she had just washed it, her palms still felt sticky.

Just like the people at the emperor's feet in Luoyang, Chang'an and other places like to discuss the emperor's family affairs and current political rumors, perhaps because of the influence of Kuanglu culture, the people of Xunyang are particularly tolerant of the uninhibited style and romantic deeds of talented scholars and celebrities.

Especially the Xingzi Lake construction site in the center of the square, now no one can enter it.

Also because it was the rumored young princess with extraordinary talent and beauty who took the lead in organizing the event together with the Juhua Poetry Society, King Xunyang and his family attended the event in person and enjoyed it with the people.

Many literary talents were gearing up and preparing to show off their skills. Naturally, the people who came here were also looking forward to it, and gathered around to inquire about gossip about the poetry meeting. The literary banquets and poetry gatherings of this era, with talented scholars and beauties, are like the film and television celebrities in Ouyang Rong's previous life. They can be regarded as some kind of national entertainment. The top poets in the literary world of the Great Zhou Dynasty can be regarded as the top of this era.

Instead, he concentrated on walking outside Xingzifang.

Xunyangfang is full of dignitaries and relatively wealthy citizens, as well as literati and poets who are looking for fun. Xunyang Tower is one of the representative places.

But right now... Rong Zhen's eyes flashed again to Xie Lingjiang's tall back in a ruqi when they were saying goodbye at the west city gate.

In fact, Rong Zhen didn't know why he walked out unconsciously, separated from the search team, and stayed away from Xingzifang.

In the eyes of others, this female historian, who was resolute and selfless, had an unprecedented look of hesitation on her pale, cold and beautiful face.
Facing the front, there is a high-end restaurant dedicated to talented people and beautiful women, and elegant celebrities drinking wine.

Under the hem of the skirt, a pair of embroidered shoes remained untouched.

Xingzifang is mostly populated by lower-class people and poor scholars, which is similar to a slum.

The entire Xingzifang has been declared safe under the sound of the piano in a practical sense, but because the Buddha's head is still being installed, it is still tight on the outside and tighter on the inside.

Wei Shaoqi, Qin Changshi and others were also leading people to clean up the corpses and search for the legendary mythical tripod sword.

"This poem was written by the Yuan family, who was known as the leader of the literary world at that time. The last two lines have not been surpassed by anyone in the Zhou literary world. The little girl privately believes that this is the second chrysanthemum poem after "Drinking"..."

In the past, she would not have cared about these insignificant image matters and did not care about other people's opinions.

But when it came to this moment, she felt uninterested... It wasn't that she was uninterested, or she suddenly felt that this matter was no longer the most important thing to her.

This matter has become the hottest focus in the literary world of Xunyang City recently.

"As we all know, Tao Yuanming only loved chrysanthemums. It was precisely because of him that chrysanthemums were elevated to a high status in the literary world. Also because such dazzling celebrities were born, Xunyang City is also known as the Chrysanthemum Capital.

And today's poetry meeting held in Xunyang Tower is not only because of "instead of chanting snow, chanting chrysanthemums";

The sparse drizzle falling from the gloomy sky did not affect the enthusiasm of the people on the entire long street.

Outside the building, there were many intellectuals and scholars gathered to watch, and people passing by stopped to watch the excitement.

Something I want to do more, or someone I want to see more...

Rong Zhen stopped on the street and looked down at the blood stains on the palace skirt. At a certain moment, he raised his hand and sniffed the sleeve gently.

"One of the famous lines...Paling chrysanthemums under the eastern fence, leisurely seeing the southern mountains...has been popular for hundreds of years."

The martial law blockade in Xingzifang has not greatly affected the living atmosphere of Xunyangfang. There is still a huge gap between the rich and the poor among the main people living in the two Lifangs.

A new strong impulse surged out of my heart for no reason.

Looking around, there is a prosperous Xunyang Tower standing at the end of the long street.

Rong Zhen walked silently towards Xunyang Tower. Along the way, the streets of Xunyangfang were very lively.

At this moment, many figures were coming in and out, all of them were celebrities, scholars, and talented people from Xunyang City, as well as high-ranking officials, wealthy businessmen, and children of noble families.

"The first poem about chrysanthemums recognized by ancient and modern literary circles was written by Tao Yuanming, a famous scholar in the Eastern Jin Dynasty. He served as the county magistrate of Longcheng County under the jurisdiction of this state for 81 days, and then resigned and went into seclusion... This poem was also written after he went into seclusion. For "Drinking".

"The house is in a human environment, and there is no noise of carriages and horses. How can I ask you? My mind is far away and I am distracted. I am picking chrysanthemums under the eastern fence, and I can leisurely see the Nanshan Mountain...

Rong Zhen paused for a long time.

In the hall of Xunyang Tower, Li Guo'er Furong's little face was covered with a piece of light purple gauze. She pointed at a plate of chrysanthemums that were still standing proudly in early winter on the table in front of her, and commented in a clear voice.

Li Xian, Li Dalang, and the celebrities and scholars around them all listened with bated breath to the oriole-like voice of the little princess.

Many young talents were still gearing up secretly, looking longingly and enthusiastically at the wall behind Li Guo'er that had white paper with poems on it.

This is the most important part and the climax of today's chrysanthemum poetry meeting - only the first three best chrysanthemum poems can be inscribed on the wall, and they can get the guarantee from the owner of Xunyang Tower that they can be inscribed on the wall of this Jiangnan Preserved by famous buildings.

Li Baoer spoke clearly and finished his comments. The celebrities who served as judges around him continued to talk to each other for a while. Well, it was just some innocuous compliments to each other.

Finally, the poem-writing session began, and the talented people wrote poems one after another. The atmosphere became lively, and from time to time, a few good poems were circulated.

However, those who were interested discovered that when Her Royal Highness the little princess on the high platform was reading poems, although she nodded from time to time and seemed to be smiling under the hazy purple gauze, there was no ripple in the depths of her clear eyes. The attention of Xunyang Wang Lixian and Prince Li Dalang did not seem to be on the poetry meeting. They drank tea absentmindedly and frequently looked back at a certain corner in the building...

Half an hour later, Li Guoer and the celebrity judges roughly selected three pretty good chrysanthemum poems. She turned her head and whispered softly, and asked people to copy and paste them on the white paper wall. The scholars who were selected for poetry were either happy or proud, and some were restrained in their modesty.

But at this moment, a slender figure staggered from the corner and appeared not far behind everyone.

"Tanlang?"

Li Xian and Li Dalang put down their teacups and stood up.

Li Guo'er, who was surrounded by famous people, couldn't help but look sideways.

I saw a young man with a face like a crown jade, eyebrows divided into eight colors, eyes like bright stars, and a nose like hanging gallbladder. He was so handsome. Someone immediately recognized him as the current Sima Ouyang Lianghan of Jiangzhou.

Ouyang Rong turned a deaf ear and walked through the crowd smelling of alcohol. From time to time, he pushed aside a few chairs that were blocking the way. He stumbled to the table, bent down, and looked at the winter plant in front of him with drunken eyes. Qiu Ju, and then looked around again.

"You guys are so noisy, really noisy, so noisy." He suddenly said.

In the hall, there were suddenly arrogant and talented people with angry expressions on their faces, celebrities and eminent monks had worried eyes, and someone immediately said in displeasure: "Thank you for respecting Ouyang Sima so much in the past, but I didn't expect that he is..."

But the next moment, the scholar who was speaking stopped talking, because Ouyang Rong had already walked to the table without paying attention, pulled out a brush, lowered his head to check the brush, and walked towards the white paper wall that attracted everyone's attention.

Just when everyone was surprised by this strange behavior, Ouyang Rong suddenly shook out a heavy ink stick from his sleeve and threw it on the soft chair aside.

Immediately, without any distractions, he spread out the paper and dipped the brush to its fullest extent.

In front of everyone, a handsome young man holds a pen in his left hand and splashes ink. On the white paper on the wall, he writes a poem with seven unique features in one go:
The rustling westerly wind is full of plants in the courtyard, and the cold and fragrant flowers are hard to come by.

If I were the Qing Emperor in his future years, I would be rewarded with peach blossoms... blooming in one place!

Silence, only silence in the whole place.

Everyone looked at each other. Their faces were confused for a while, and then, like the fireworks of the Spring Festival, they bloomed one after another with wonderful expressions.

Li Guo'er didn't know when he had stood up, looking at the Qi Jue poems on the wall where the ink was still wet with some amazement.

Xie Lingjiang, who followed closely behind, first quickly bent down to pick up the small ink ingot that could shake the owner more quietly than a certain "vibrating egg clock"... She ignored the strong protest and dissatisfaction reminder of the little girl in her hand, and talked with Li Xian The father and son stared at this poem with blank faces.

At this moment, the eyes of everyone in the audience were attracted by the song "Inscribed on Chrysanthemums" on the wall.

"Finally...quiet."

Ouyang Rong suddenly dropped his brush, narrowed his drunken eyes, and chuckled.

I don't know what this murmur is talking about.

A few moments later, the smiling young man, as drunk as a jade mountain, lay on the table in front of a pot of autumn chrysanthemums, in front of everyone... and fell into a deep dream.

The whole place was silent for a moment. After a while, the noise exploded. However, as Xie Lingjiang raised his index finger to his lips and booed, the place suddenly returned to silence. Everyone covered their mouths and kept their voices down in tacit agreement, as if they were afraid of waking someone up. people.

After a while, everyone was respectful, convinced or ashamed, and came forward one after another to look at the chrysanthemum poems on the white wall. Xie Lingjiang, Li Xian and others immediately ran to care about Ouyang Rong's physical condition.

She was already the closest to Guo'er. After Ouyang Rong fell drunk, she was the first to reach out to support his limp body. For a moment, she couldn't care about the defense between men and women... While helping Ouyang Rong, the little princess with plum blossom makeup looked down at the poem and whispered softly. chew:
"If I were the Qing Emperor in his time, I would be rewarded with peach blossoms blooming everywhere... A good poem, so good that... it is a bit treasonous... This poem should be the first poem about chrysanthemums in the next five hundred years. Ouyang Lianghan, you can compare with Tao Yuanming ”

Xie Lingjiang, who had just arrived at the table, suddenly stared. It turned out that the little princess in front of him suddenly playfully patted his crowned head buried between his elbows.

"color!"

……

Xingzi Lake construction site.

The sound of the piano that had been lingering for a long time just disappeared.

In a simple cubicle in the water room, a bearded man wearing a felt hat sat on the floor, and finally drank the human blood wine that was soaked in the red and black talisman ashes in the gourd.

When he went out in the morning and had a full meal of sauced pork, he muttered something to himself. After a while, he poured out a dark green round pill from the bottom of the gourd used to soak in wine, raised his head and swallowed it.

It is called Mo Jiao, and it is hotter than snake gall. In the sky above Mount Sumeru, it transforms into a dragon-shaped flame from its throat to its chest.

In the shabby room, Huang Feihong's thoughts just now echoed faintly.

"Young master said... I can also earn a living for the people."

After a while, the bearded man suddenly opened his eyes and stood up. He was originally a very good drinker and could really drink a thousand glasses. At this moment, he was shaking drunk. He looked around like a man waking up from a big dream. He looked around, and there was a faint sound of fatigue outside the water room. The sound of husbands and animals pulling and transporting the Buddha's head... His eyes were blurry with drunkenness, and he raised his hand to press down on his felt hat.

……

At the end of the long street outside Xunyang Tower, Rong Zhen was standing under an eaves, with a hesitant look on his face. At this time, there was a sudden noise from the crowd in front, like boiling water.

She saw many people running around copying poems, circulating a fresh manuscript, talking about it with great interest, and some people crowded into the Xunyang Building with excited faces...

Rong Zhen frowned. After listening carefully, his expression changed slightly...

It turned out that Ouyang Sima, whose line "A good man also sleeps" was talked about by Xunyang literati, actually composed a poem today, and was appointed as the leader by Her Royal Highness the little princess and the celebrities in the audience, and everyone in the audience had no objection.

"Isn't your hand injured?" Rong Zhen thought of something, bit his lower lip, and narrowed his eyes slightly.

After a while, Rong Zhen took out an orange-red sachet, took out a small IOU saying "I owe a poem", held it in the palm of his hand, and strode towards Xunyang Tower without any further hesitation.

I can do it for your junior sister, but not for me?

In addition, I would like to see what the poem you just composed looks like.

"Well, it's not what I wanted to do. It's just what you owe me. It's written in black and white..."

He murmured and walked a dozen steps forward. The next moment, Rong Zhen braked suddenly.

She suddenly looked back and her pupils shrank slightly.

The image of a girl in palace clothes being frozen in place made passers-by around her turn their heads curiously.

But just three breaths after the cold girl in palace clothes looked back and stared, everyone suddenly heard a faint sound of thunder coming from the direction of Xingzifang from behind.

No, it wasn't the sound of thunder, it was the initial wave of something huge collapsing...

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(End of this chapter)