Saint of the Confucian way

The hearts of scholars all over the world praise it.

Li Wenying did not hide his contempt for Qingguo, nor did he hide his strong confidence and war intention.

Victory or defeat, the first to say war is a hero.

Li Wenying picked up his brush, dipped it in thick ink and wrote three big characters on the page.

Yong Fangyun.

Then he raised his pen and looked into the distance.

Some people looked along Li Wenying's eyes. It seemed that it was the direction of Ning'an city and the most important place in the city experienced by Fang Yun.

Li Wenying hesitated to write, and the whole audience was silent. No matter how the former Qingguo scholars booed, they still didn't say a word, and some even closed their mouths nervously.

Li Wenying stood with a pen, like a sword stabbing the sky at the same height as the mountain, which no one can stop.

Ji Anchang had been smiling before, but now he was staring at Li Wenying. His face was serious and his eyes were bright. There was a slight red on his face. His blood was surging and his talent was full of energy.

The general closed his eyes and listened to the harp because he was invincible.

After dozens of breaths, Li Wenying recited and wrote.

The pen is full of talent and stars, and the dragon and Phoenix are difficult to close.

Three thousand guests were drunk with flowers in the hall, and fourteen states were frosted with a sword.

The drum horn opens the sky, the air is cold, the wind waves the sea and mountains in autumn.

Ning'an will always be the golden pillar of heaven. Who envies the ten thousand princes of that year.

This poem means that when Fang Yun finishes writing, the poetry can rise up into the sky, like a giant dragon rising and a phoenix flying. No one can stop the momentum and let the stars shake.

Fang Yun is good at both literature and martial arts. He can drink with everyone at the cultural meeting and intoxicate all the guests with poetry. Once he fights, his lips, guns and swords flash cold light. He can kill a huge place as large as 14 states and his sword is invincible.

In those years, Fang Yun fought with the barbarians. The drums roared, the horn shook the sky, and the killing intention was cold. It could even cool the originally warm weather sharply. The momentum of the army swept the world like a strong wind, blowing mountains, rivers and oceans, as if the whole Shengyuan continent had entered autumn.

Fang Yun successfully defeated the barbarians and made Ning'an stand firm. It seems to become a pillar of heaven and earth, solid as gold, to protect the Terran from foreign aggression.

The Terrans have such people as role models. Who still envies those feudal officials, princes and generals?

When Li Wenying wrote that "when the pen falls, the talent rushes to the stars, and it is difficult to collect the dragon and phoenix", many scholars nod gently. No matter what happens after this poem, the momentum of the first two sentences alone is worthy of Li Wenying and good luck.

When writing about "three thousand people drunk with flowers in the hall", many scholars were in front of them. This sentence was exquisite, like a picture, which was very vivid.

After the writing of "one sword frosts 14 states", there were bursts of exclamations at the cultural conference. Almost everyone was affected by the surging murderous spirit revealed in this text.

"Yes!" many people in Jingguo came to a conclusion after hearing this sentence.

With this spirit of swallowing mountains and rivers alone, even compared with Fang Yun's poems.

Then there was the sound of many tables and chairs moving and heavy objects landing.

Even if many people heard it, they didn't look at it. They still stared at Li Wenying, just looking at it with their spare light.

At the seat of Qingguo, a large number of young scholars fell to the ground, shaking like a sieve, shivering with inexplicable cold.

Ji Anchang, who was drinking tea, clenched his cup, held his breath, and quietly looked at Li Wenying and the pages written by Li Wenying.

When the whole poem is completed, the handed down Baoguang lights up first.

This is a war poem.

Ji Anchang's face suddenly turned white.

War poetry is not divided into levels. However, the value of war poetry handed down from generation to generation is often equal to the poetry handed down from generation to generation. Moreover, this is a war poetry handed down by great Confucianism, and its value is higher than that of ordinary poetry handed down from generation to generation.

What's more, after the emergence of the handed down treasure light, there was a layer of treasure light that had never appeared before.

The brilliant sun in the sky trembled gently, and then sent out incomparably brilliant brilliance.

One day, the world is white.

"That's..." Jiang Hechuan suddenly stood up and looked at Li Wenying with surprise in his eyes.

Then, countless great scholars and scholars got up, and the scholars behind them immediately stood up.

"What's the matter?"

"Why are the great Confucians so frightened?"

"General Zhang, what happened?"

Zhang poyue stared and muttered: "There are countless poems reciting the sages and saints, and many become war poems and even handed down war poems, such as famous general war poems and monarch war poems. However, when the sages and Saints live, if the other party can bear praise and become a war poem handed down to the world, it has never appeared in the history of the human race! I'm afraid that legend will come true..."

"What legend?"

For a time, the whole cultural conference was full of people, all asking about the legend.

However, those who knew the legend looked at Li Wenying quietly.

Li Wenying himself also showed a look of surprise. He didn't expect that his poem could become a handed down war poem.

After watching the numerous precious lights on the poem page form, Li Wenying moved in his heart, looked up at the huge talent sun in the sky, and then waved his pen. The poem page did not burn, but flew out and into the talent sun.

"Jianmei Gong, what's the treasure light?" a Jinshi of Jingguo couldn't help shouting.

Li Wenying looked at the brilliant sun in the sky and said slowly, firmly and powerfully, "infinite treasure light!"

Many great Confucians, great scholars and children of aristocratic families took a breath. The legend has come true!

"What is the talent and sun in the sky?" someone asked again.

Li Wenying suddenly showed a rare bright smile and said, "you'll know when you go to the holy temple to learn this great Confucian war poem."

As soon as the voice fell, the vigorous sun wrapped the poem page, soared into the sky and flew to Wenqu star.

Everyone looked up in surprise and finally saw that the brilliant sun had entered the Wenqu star.

Wenqu star seemed to tremble slightly and emit a silver light, just like a meteor across the sky. It flashed and died. I don't know where to fly.

"My wish has come!"

Li Wenying suddenly laughed and walked away from the meeting, ignoring the next allocation of Shengxing.

At this time, Jiang Hechuan suddenly walked around the apricot forest and entered the holy temple behind him. Then he walked back slowly, with an indisputable joy on his face.

Several great Confucians rushed to ask.

"How about you learn the great Confucian war poetry of Jianmei Gong?"

"How powerful?"

"You say a word."

Jiang Hechuan shook his head and said, "go to the holy temple yourself."

Some as like as two peas, the emperor went into the temple, and soon after, the great scholars came back, and their faces were just like the river and river. They all showed incredible smiles on their faces.

The great Confucian who didn't go hurriedly asked, and their answer was the same as Jiang Hechuan.

Apart from Ji Anchang, the other great Confucians could no longer help but enter the holy temple and return soon.

In addition to the ugly complexion of the great Confucian scholars in the Qing Dynasty, the great Confucian scholars in other countries all look happy. Even some great Confucian scholars who are famous for their rigidity are also happy at the moment.

Other scholars wanted to know what had happened and hurried to ask, but these great scholars were still aftertaste, and no one answered.

Later, a great Confucian in the Qing Dynasty preached to Ji Anchang.

Ji Anchang was stunned. His body was in a flash, his talent was disordered, and a wisp of blood was left along the corner of his mouth.

Ji Anchang pushed his chair and staggered out of the literary academy.

Many people in Jingguo and Qingguo looked at Ji Anchang's back and suddenly remembered that Ji Anchang escaped in this way many years ago.

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