Saint of the Confucian way

The carriage moved slowly forward, making a bone rolling sound.

In the literary world, there are not many people who Miss Fang Yun. There are only a few people except Zhang Jing'an.

Since returning to the literary world, Fang Yun has found that the holy temple has stored a large number of books for himself. As long as he accepts them, tens of thousands of wild geese will come.

Fang Yun gave up temporarily and sat in the carriage.

Not long after, the carriage came to a vegetable market in the south of the city and slowly moved forward in the vegetable market.

It's already dark at the moment, and it's a little dark in the vegetable market.

The coachman didn't know what had happened, but just drove according to Fang Yun's instructions.

After driving for a moment, Fang Yun suddenly opened the curtain slightly and looked out from the gap.

In the cold weather, there are fewer people in the vegetable market than usual, but the vegetable vendors do business as usual.

In a simple wooden shed, there is a faint yellow lantern hanging. Under the lantern, there are many warm boxes. The warm boxes are covered with quilts, revealing a few green vegetable leaves. A couple of 50 or 60 years old, wearing thick cotton padded jackets, are standing in the wooden shed, stamping their feet gently and occasionally Hawking.

"Fresh cabbage, only 18 Wen per tree..." Lao Guo shouted, glanced at the carriage, and saw the curtain of the carriage fall.

Lao Guo suddenly stopped talking and looked puzzled at the carriage gradually moving away.

"What are you looking at, old man?"

"Nothing. I just think there are people I know sitting in the carriage."

"Those who can ride the carriage are rich people. What rich people can you know?"

Lao Guo smiled and straightened his spine slowly.

Fang Yun listened to the old couple and smiled. Last year, when he took Zhang Jing'an out of his dung, he was with the old Guo. He was kind and honest and helped a lot. When Fang Yun took Zhang Jing'an away, he left Lao Guo 1000 liang of silver, plus the paper "Zhang Longxiang, Marquis of the Pearl River" written by him.

Seeing that Lao Guo was not implicated by himself, Fang Yun put down his heart, but then his face became overcast.

When he was in Zhujiang City, Fang Yun visited a rural couple's house. Because the king of Chu cleaned the Zhujiang army, he was accused of visiting the family, which led to the couple's exile, and the peasant woman died on the way to exile.

Fang Yun's eyes darkened, but soon returned to normal.

The carriage went on and soon stopped at the door of a restaurant on Changhe street.

Changhe street is not the most prosperous street. Dignitaries and dignitaries in the capital will never come here, but some people with property often come here. It is also a gathering place for ordinary scholars.

Fang Yun looked up and saw the words "Ji Jia restaurant" written on the side of the black door. It was no different from other restaurants in the street. It was three stories high, but Fang Yun chose here.

Fang Yun asked the coachman to stay downstairs, stepped into Ji Jia restaurant, glanced, and walked up the stairs to the second floor.

Perhaps it was because the first floor and the second floor were not busy on a winter night. A waiter came to ask Fang Yun. Fang Yun threw him a silver or two to leave, and then walked to the third floor.

The third floor was different from the lower floor. It was very active. Fang Yun heard the voices of the people and knew that it might be a small cultural meeting. However, he was a scholar and just went to the third floor to have a look. The stairway was not closed. There was nothing wrong with going up, so he continued to go up.

The stairs were close to the wall. Fang Yun was walking to the middle of the stairs. A waiter upstairs smiled and looked down and said, "my guest, are you the one who attended the cultural conference?"

Fang Yun looked up at the waiter on the third floor, stopped on the stairs and said, "if readers are not allowed on the third floor, I can go to other restaurants."

Fang Yun found that the waiter's attitude had changed significantly, with a cold face and full of vigilance.

"It's reasonable to say that you are not a member of the Cultural Association. You can't go to the third floor." the second child's tone was very impolite.

Xiao Er takes another look at Fang Yun. At the moment, Fang Yun's appearance is Zhang Longxiang. Although he is a strong man with a beard, he has an extraordinary temperament. Xiao Er hesitates.

At this time, the three scholars came to the entrance of the stairs, all dressed in children's clothes, all in their twenties and almost thirty.

After asking the reason, one of the white faced students smiled and said, "brother, although we hold a cultural meeting on the third floor, we don't invite outsiders, but we don't exclude scholars all over the world. However, you don't wear a literary uniform, and we don't dare to welcome you rashly. I think... Since you want to go to the third floor, you can make a poem and join us as long as you get our approval. How about it?"

The literary world is different from the Shengyuan mainland. If there is a figure like Zhang Longxiang in the Shengyuan mainland, 90% of the scholars will recognize it, but the communication in the literary world is not smooth enough. Moreover, these people are children, and they don't even have an official seal. They can't enter the discussion list to talk freely. It's difficult to see the portrait of Zhang Longxiang.

Just then, more than a dozen scholars went to the stair guardrail on the third floor and looked down. Except for four or five scholars, most of them were children, and none of them knew Fang Yun.

Those people laughed when they asked about the matter. A kind-hearted scholar explained, "brother, we are not making trouble for you, but Jingzhou customs."

Fang Yun smiled and said, "it doesn't hurt. It's just a poem."

Fang Yun said and walked up. After three steps, he continued to walk. At the same time, he said, "climb up the tallest building."

The crowd was stunned. In a moment, they burst into laughter and interrupted Fang Yun. Several young children laughed out of breath, and even the waiter was laughing secretly.

"My dear brother, you are thirty or forty years old. After writing this poem, you dare to say you are a scholar? I'm ashamed of you!"

"If this can also be called poetry, then all my poems can Zhenguo!"

"As soon as I climb the tallest building, I'm not afraid to fall!"

Fang Yun continued to walk upstairs with a smile. He soon came to the entrance of the stairs. After glancing at the third floor, he said, "Twelve railings fight against cattle."

All the laughter stopped suddenly.

Niudou refers to the location of the stars niusu and Dousu. The first sentence is just an ordinary sentence, but the second sentence immediately says that the railing on the third floor is very high, has the potential to rush to the sky, and even points directly at the stars.

Although it is not a wonderful sentence, two sentences connected together are better than ordinary poems. All the readers realized that the first sentence was deliberately made by Fang Yun. First, it was to form a sharp contrast with the latter sentence, and second, it was to set a trap to lure them to take the bait.

The waiter's smiling face froze. Even the scholar didn't dare to laugh, and he didn't dare.

Fang Yun boarded the third floor and several people at the entrance of the stairs hurriedly separated.

Fang Yun continued as he walked: "Zhang doesn't want to leave his name. He's afraid to press the 14 states in the literary world!"

If ordinary people make such domineering poems, they will inevitably lead to criticism and even ridicule. However, Fang Yun personally said that with the remaining power of victory in the battle of Bi Shen, he has a great momentum, is respected by one world, and all kings bow down, which makes everyone present frightened.

The students and scholars dared not even go out of the atmosphere. There was a cold sweat behind them. They only felt that the man in front of them was incomparably great. It was as if he could shoot the 14 states in the literary world as soon as he stretched out his hand.

.