The prince is too bad, the princess is too strange

"Perhaps it's because you haven't had a good rest these days, and you're just a little tired. It's okay, let's go up the mountain." Feng Qi looked at Zhuo Ye and smiled softly.

"It's fine to climb the mountain, but your body is too delicate, so it's time for some exercise." Zhuo Ye nodded.

As soon as Zhuo Ye's voice fell, Qingzhu jumped up: "What do you know! Young master, he..."

"Qingzhu!" Feng Qiduan shouted: "If you don't want to go up the mountain, just wait here!"

Qingzhu sighed, and said aggrievedly: "Qingzhu naturally follows the young master."

"Let's go." Feng San beside him frowned.

Although a strange feeling flashed through Zhuo Ye's heart, he didn't think about it too much, and the group of people stepped on the stone steps to climb up the mountain.

After walking for not long, Feng Qi was out of breath, and beads of sweat dripped down his handsome face.Zhuo Ye was taken aback, and hurriedly suggested to rest for a while, but Feng Qi just smiled and said it was okay, insisting to rest at Biwei Pavilion, Feng San's eyebrows were knotted, his lips were tightly pursed, he meditated for a moment, and stretched out his hand to hold Qingzhu together Feng Qi walked up the mountain.

The top of Biwei Mountain is not as steep as ordinary peaks. The terrain is relatively flat, and there is a small bamboo forest. Biwei Pavilion is located in this bamboo forest. However, it is refreshing, and it is indeed an elegant place suitable for reciting poems and composing Fu.

A middle-aged man was sitting in front of a table and chair by the bamboo grove. The students held posts and handed them to the man. Just before they entered the bamboo grove, a guard behind Feng San stepped forward, took the post from his arms and handed it up, and everyone stepped forward. Into the woods.

Zhuo Ye secretly thought, so there is still a quota for this poetry meeting!

There were a few old men sitting in the Biwei Pavilion, drinking tea leisurely. They looked like judges. There were some tables and chairs scattered in the forest. Gather in groups of five, and talk about the truth.

Feng San is dignified and solemn, Feng Qi is handsome and elegant, Zhuo Ye is calm and handsome, and several attendants are also full of energy. As soon as this group of people enters the bamboo forest, they immediately attract a lot of attention. What is the origin of the young master...

Zhuo Ye followed Feng San and Feng Qi to a table in the corner and sat down. Not long after, the poetry meeting officially started, and it was indeed the old men in the pavilion who wrote the questions and reviewed them.

Feng Qi explained to Zhuo Ye that among the judges in the pavilion, the green-robed old man headed by Liu Yuanming, the prefect of Zhanzhou, and the others were all well-known literati and Confucian scholars in this area. Moreover, those who won the first, second, and third places will receive rewards ranging from 300, [-], and [-] taels.

Hearing this, Zhuo Ye smiled in surprise, "Aren't most scholars self-confident?"

Feng Qi laughed and said: "Some scholars do disdain money and vulgar things, but the rewards of this Biwei Pavilion are different. This poetry society has a history of several decades and is highly respected by scholars. The reward for this poetry meeting is an honor, and, for students from relatively poor families, this amount of money is not a small amount of money to spend in rushing for the exam."

Zhuo Ye nodded, without saying a word, he secretly counted Xiao Jiujiu in his heart, will No.1 reward 1000 taels?It sounds like a lot. Thinking of my money-making plan, how about...