The short video shows the ancient times, and the emperors cried with envy!

Chapter 584: How good is Mr. Chen's poetry? Xin Qiji: Ten thousand flags and banners will kill Yama Luo, everyone stand up!

The situation in Siam was an eye-opener for viewers outside the video. With such an army and such people, it was no wonder that it could only become the back garden of white men in the end.

It can be said that any ending has a traceable path, and everything is a matter of time and fate.

Compared to India's complete collapse, some people in Siam once wanted to save it, but the sadness of a small country is that you never know what the attitude of the giant next to you will be.

As a country in the Indochina Peninsula, for Siam, being obedient may be the best way to survive.

The army is dispensable.

As the picture faded away, this small country made everyone in front of the screen reflect for a while, but soon forgot about it.

After all, even if Siam is destroyed, it has nothing to do with us.

Maybe we should lend a helping hand and let these Siamese people have a taste of what it means to be ruthless and kind-hearted.

At this time, a familiar blue and white interface appeared, attracting everyone's attention.

"It looks like another problem."

This familiar Bihu interface made everyone understand that this video was still about a certain issue.

Along with the sound of a typewriter, a line of questions appeared on the screen.

How good is his poetry?

[A face appeared on the screen.]

“It turns out to be this person!”

The many generals in front of the screen had complicated expressions on their faces, which showed that they were facing many dangers and difficulties.

It is not easy to stand out in such a situation and become a general with outstanding military achievements, but you tell me that you are also proficient in writing poetry?
Isn’t this a bit too much?

"What kind of military commander is he if he can write poetry! He's shaking his head all day long, how much attention can he devote to military affairs? It must be fake! And he's also good at writing poetry, is it just doggerel?"

Tang Dynasty, Cheng Yaojin shouted loudly, with a hint of dissatisfaction on his face.

We are all military commanders, why are you so different? You even write poems, leaving us rough folks no chance to live.

"Hahaha! Zhijie, you can't even write a limerick!"

Yuchi Gong, who was standing aside, looked at the helpless and furious Cheng Yaojin and made a joke.

The two dukes immediately started quarreling in the hall, and Li Shimin was forced to hold his forehead in his hands. What a bunch of funny people!
On the other side, the Northern and Southern Dynasties.

Whether it was Chen Qingzhi, Yang Kan, or Liu Yu, they all had a very good impression of this great general who could write poetry.

The trend of this era is that holding a four-meter-long spear and going in and out on the battlefield, killing a lot of people is not a skill.

He has to be dressed in white, holding a sword, be able to pacify his opponent with a wave of his hand, and then stand in victory to recite his own achievements and compose a good poem. That is a talent!
So Liu Yu looked at the sky and sighed:
"If I hadn't been born in Jingkou and hadn't been a soldier of the Northern Army, I would have at least learned how to write poetry. Otherwise, all my life's achievements would have been wasted."

As he spoke, a short poem appeared in the comment section above the sky, instantly attracting everyone's attention.

[Here we go to Quantai to recruit old troops and kill Yama with a hundred thousand banners]

[This is the poem. Please give me your evaluation. What do you think of its quality? ]

"Wonderful!"

At Gaixia, Xiang Yu listened to the sound of Chu songs all around him. He was already disheartened and ready to die heroically, but when he read the poems, a surge of blood ignited in him.

Yes! What's so terrible about defeat in the human world? It's just death!

As long as there is passion in your heart, even if you are defeated, you can turn around and die, then summon your old subordinates and kill Emperor Yama!
"Hahaha! My men, those Han dogs out there are nothing but clay chickens and clay dogs. Tomorrow, follow me to chop off their dog heads!"

The King of Western Chu regained his composure. On the other side, the Southern Song Dynasty.

Lu You was already very old and had been bedridden for a long time. He was originally disheartened and even had no hope of survival. However, looking at the poems above the sky, he struggled to get up and looked at the starry sky above his head.

"Iron horses and icy rivers appear in my dreams!"

After reading these two lines of poetry, close your eyes and you will see iron horses and golden swords, and fighting on the battlefield!

"Only a veteran who has experienced hundreds of battles can write with such dominance and determination!"

Lu You closed his eyes and could dream with such a beautiful poem in mind!
It is also the Southern Song Dynasty.

Lu You, who had never experienced a battle, could still dream of iron cavalry and icy rivers. Xin Qiji, who had personally experienced the blowing of horns and the inspection of troops in the autumn on the battlefield, was so excited that he stood up and paced back and forth.

"A hundred thousand banners will slay Yama! What a great poem! My dear friend! This is real poetry! The weak words I said in the first half of my life are not as good as such a great sentence! Hahaha!"

Thinking of this, Xin Qiji couldn't help but burst into tears. Once upon a time, he was also a great man.

However, since his right to lead troops was restricted when he went south, his poems became more euphemistic, and only occasionally could he write about the sound of thunder and the startling of the bow's string.

He knew that it was because he had been away from the scene for too long and had been avoiding it before.

But after reading the poem, a feeling of heroism arose spontaneously. Damn the imperial court, I will train my own troops!

A copy of "Dreams of Splendor in the Eastern Capital" is what he is pursuing. He wants to fight back to the Eastern Capital. Otherwise, he will go to the underworld in person, summon his old subordinates, and kill the Golden Dog!

This sentence should be made clear!

……

[Do you think this poem is so powerful and makes your blood boil? It is a first-rate poem. 】

[Do you think he must be a scholar-general who is both civil and military, speaks with great passion and is eloquent? ]

[Is it strange that your usual poems are all of this standard?]

It was still the same comment, but it was phrased as a rhetorical question, which made the many viewers in front of the screen look thoughtful.

"Is there something behind what he said? I think General Chen's poems sound good and are better than ours."

But not everyone can try to take advantage of it. At least you have to write something like "Three calls call out the Fusang sun, sweeping away the remaining stars and the morning moon."

But he admired poetry so much that his desire to write poetry was aroused.

"For someone who can write a poem like this, his other poems can't be much worse, right?"

Great Qin, Ying Zheng was chewing over the poem just now. The generals of the Great Qin below must have liked this murderous poem very much, which made people feel encouraged.

And a failed scholar, now the Emperor of Qi, Huang Chao, also nodded.

I recognize his level of poetry writing. At least, in terms of domineeringness, it is not inferior to his "Wait Until Autumn Comes on September 8th".

[Haha, if you think so, please appreciate this one, which was also written by him. ]

[You have an atomic bomb, and I have an atomic bomb.]

Everyone has their own opinions, but the agreement is not to release any. 】

"Ah? This was written by one person?"

In Southern Liang, Chen Qianzhi had an expression of disbelief on his face, and the chess pieces in his hand fell.

(End of this chapter)