Emperor of the Red Chamber

Chapter 25 Poems about Flying Snow in the Royal Garden

In the evening of this day, Yuan Qingbai left Prince Yiqin's Mansion and returned to the second of the five Qianxi Institutes in the palace.

On the Middle Road of the Imperial Palace, behind Kunning Palace is the Imperial Garden.

On the east side of the imperial garden are the five Qiandong residences and on the west side are the five Qianxi residences. Each has three courtyards in the north and south, and is the residence of the prince.

Yuan Qingbai lived in the second of the five Qianxi houses.

The next day, a heavy snow fell, covering the imperial palace and the entire sacred capital.

Emperor Jing'an became interested in admiring the snow, so he went to the Imperial Garden and asked the eunuch to call Yuan Qingbai and the five princes, hoping to enjoy the family happiness while admiring the snow.

Although Emperor Jing'an had given birth to more than thirty sons, more than a dozen of them had died in infancy.

The premature mortality rate in this era was high.

There are currently five underage princes alive in the world. The oldest of the five is the 20th prince Yuan Siwen, who is thirteen years old this year. The other four are all under ten years old.

These five princes all lived in Qianxi Wusuo or Qiandong Wusuo.

When Yuan Qingbai came to the Imperial Garden, which was already covered in silver and covered with silver frost, he found Emperor Jing'an sitting in the pavilion wearing a fur coat and writing poems, so he came up and started to read.

The poem is titled "Snow".

The fine jade is light in the blue sky, and the smoke is flying in the cold strips.

The film was splashing wet when it fell to the ground, and Luoqi patterns were floating everywhere.

Emperor Jing'an also loved poetry and wrote more than a thousand poems in his life.

The current song "Snow" is well written.

"My father wrote a good poem. My son will never be able to write such a poem in his life."

The 20th prince Yuan Siwen was busy trying to please him.

Yuan Qingbai: "..."

Why does it feel like your lines have been robbed?
Emperor Jing'an knew clearly that Yuan Siwen was trying to please his son, but he still accepted it.

Most old men in the world would like their young grandsons to flatter themselves.

Even Emperor Jing'an, who had seen countless flatteries in his life, was still such an old man.

He also regarded this kind of flattery as a manifestation of filial piety.

Although Yuan Siwen was the son of Emperor Jing'an, he was only one year older than Yuan Qingbai, the imperial grandson.

Emperor Jing'an said to Yuan Siwen: "Siwen also wrote a poem about snow. Let me see if your poem has improved."

Yuan Siwen immediately became nervous. He did not like to read, and his poetry was not very good.

Alas, my son has said that he will never write a good poem, so why do you let me write one?

However, the emperor's father had spoken, but Yuan Siwen did not dare to disobey, and he thought hard while writing.

I don't dare to waste any more time. The emperor's father is watching from the side. It won't work if I delay for too long.

Yuan Siwen thought for a while and then wrote a poem praising snow.

The title of the poem is also "Snow".

Dense snow falls on Jiugai, and the jade tower is wrapped in silver.

The cold wind is blowing hard, and the garden is filled with the fragrance of plum blossoms.

Emperor Jing'an read the poem carefully twice. It wasn't bad, but it felt like it was pieced together.

He looked at Yuan Qingbai: "Qingbai, you also come to write a poem about snow."

Yuan Qingbai smiled slightly: "My grandson has made a confession in his heart, but he is just worried that he will be scolded by his grandfather if he writes it down."

Emperor Jing'an smiled and said, "Write it down first and then talk about it. As long as it's not too bad, I won't scold you."

Although he loved poetry, in his opinion, poetry was just an elegant thing, not a matter of physical and mental quality. Yuan Qingbai, a good grandson of the emperor, did not matter if his poetry was not good.

What's more, he knew that the emperor's grandson had worked hard in studying and practicing martial arts since he had raised him.

Yuan Qingbai smiled and said: "I'm afraid it's too bad, but it's rare that the emperor's grandfather has the heart to watch his grandson compose poetry. Even if he is scolded for it, he is willing to do so." After saying that, Yuan Qingbai stepped forward and started writing:

The first is the title of the poem, titled "Flying Snow", which has one more word than "Snow".

Piece after piece,
Two pieces, three pieces, four or five pieces.

Six pieces, seven pieces, eight or nine pieces,
After only writing three sentences, Yuan Siwen on the side couldn't help laughing.

Oh my God, you made me laugh so hard. Although my poems are not very good, compared with this poem by Qingbai's nephew, it is simply a world of difference.

Can this also be called poetry?
What the hell is this?
Emperor Jing'an couldn't help but frowned slightly. Although he was ready to accept Yuan Qingbai's bad poems, this was too bad, right?

What to do? I can't help but want to scold him!

At this time, Yuan Qingbai wrote the last sentence: Flying into the reeds, the flowers are gone.

uh-huh?

Seeing this last sentence, Yuan Siwen couldn't help but open his eyes wide, and the eyes under Emperor Jing'an's eyebrows also lit up.

Piece after piece,
Two pieces, three pieces, four or five pieces.

Six pieces, seven pieces, eight or nine pieces,
Flew into the reeds and disappeared.

This song "Flying Snow", if you look at the first three sentences alone, is so bad that it can't even be called a poem.

But as soon as the fourth sentence came out, it was a stroke of genius.

All of a sudden, "Flying Snow" became a simple but elegant poem about snow.

Emperor Jing'an smiled and said: "What a unique and interesting poem about the snow. Qingbai is indeed a versatile person. He actually has such a genius in this poem."

Yuan Qingbai smiled and asked: "Grandpa Huang really thinks this poem is not bad?"

Emperor Jing'an smiled and said, "It's really not bad. I like it. You are talented in poetry."

Yuan Qingbai smiled and said: "This is my grandson's surprise. I am not good at composing poetry but I can still come up with a poem that even the emperor's grandfather likes."

Then he laughed and said, "My grandson must have been lucky to write this poem today. I'm afraid he will rarely have such good luck in the future."

Let me say this first.

He had anticipated that Emperor Jing'an might ask him to write poems many times in the future.

Today, he took out Mr. Zhang's poem from his past life to suit the occasion. It was a coincidence.

In this world, the history before the end of the Ming Dynasty was consistent with his previous life.

This means that he can no longer use the poems written before the late Ming Dynasty.

As for the poems written after the late Ming Dynasty in his previous life, he could not recite many poems in full. Including the poems in "A Dream of Red Mansions", he wonders if there can be more than ten poems in total?
And now his own poetry level is not good.

I have to study poetry in the future!
Not only to please the emperor's grandfather, but also for himself.

Throughout the ages, there have been many emperors whose poems have been circulated, and Liu Bang was able to write "Song of the Great Wind".

Yuan Qingbai doesn't expect his poetry level to be very high, at least it won't be bad...

At this time, Emperor Jing'an said to Yuan Qingbai: "Qingbai, come with me to Qianqing Palace. I want to approve the memorial. You can study next to me."

Ever since Yuan Qingbai made a great contribution to saving the emperor, Emperor Jing'an has been very fond of him.

During the period when Yuan Qingbai moved into the palace, Emperor Jing'an had asked him to stay by his side to study more than once when he was reviewing memorials. He even asked him to stay by his side when he was meeting with princes and ministers.

At this moment, Yuan Siwen couldn't help but feel a little envious.

He already felt that his prince, who had lived in the palace for thirteen years, had a lower status in Emperor Jing'an's heart than a grandson who had just been raised by Emperor Jing'an...

　The author writes another poem about begging for votes

　　The monthly ticket is auspicious, and you will be overjoyed if you win.

　　The title on the gold list is high, and the struggle for coding is high.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)