Saint of the Confucian way

Most of those who were begged bowed their heads, and only a few smiled and made no secret of their pride.

"Four, forget it. Don't ask. This conference is just like life. It's good to see others win and laugh at others' bad luck!" Chang Dongyun said.

"Chang Dongyun, you bastard, I bought you a drink for nothing!"

"After this cultural meeting, I'll buy you two drinks!"

"No pity at all! I curse you for your lack of courage!"

"It's better to crack than to be waste paper in front of Fang Yun."

The people who are not in the same group with Fang Yun laugh at the same time.

Fang Yun smiled, shook his head and continued to look at Wentai.

The five people on the stage had already made abdominal manuscripts. After master Wei gave the order, the five people picked up their pen and wrote.

In the process of their writing, orange talent appeared on the paper and gradually increased.

When five people finish writing, one person's poetry can reach a foot and an inch high, more than an inch out of the county.

The other four did not leave the county, and the person with the lowest talent was six inches.

"Alas..." the man sighed, bowed his hands to the crowd and left sadly, which means that no one knows what he wrote, which is tantamount to a complete failure.

Next, Lord Wei began to read the poems of the four one by one from the fourth place, and pointed out their names to make them famous.

After that, in addition to the first person, the other three left.

Finally, master Wei invited a Hanlin to comment on the seven character quatrains of the first person, which attracted a lot of applause.

The second group of five scholars came on.

Group after group of people came on one after another, one after another left sadly.

Fang Yun sympathizes with each group of unknown fifth people, but he does not blame this elimination system, because the world is countless times crueler than this Wen Hui. The small failure of Wen Hui is not even a lesson, but a small setback that everyone will encounter.

Those who participated in the meeting were all scholars or Jinshi. In terms of talent and learning, Jinshi was far better than others, but in terms of talent and ability of poetry, there was little difference between them.

Classics, righteousness and strategy emphasize learning, but poetry pays more attention to talent.

Fang Yun had to admit that the scholars in Jingguo were too different from those in big countries.

At the Mid Autumn Festival on August 15, people from ten countries came out. Although there were no Zhenguo poems, Dafu and Mingzhou emerged one after another, and leaving the county would not cause any surprise.

However, at the Chongyang cultural conference, it was about to turn to the last group. Unexpectedly, there was only one Da Fu, not even Mingzhou.

However, Fang Yun found another problem. Few famous talents came to power today. Some talents are not in the capital, but many talents are on the top of the mountain, but they do not participate in the cultural conference.

Fang Yun shook his head reluctantly and understood that those people were wise to protect themselves for fear of falling into a dispute between themselves and Nangong Confucianism, and even more afraid of falling into a dispute between the left seat and the right seat.

After a Hanlin commented on the poems of group 14, they went to the lower stage, leaving only master Wei on it.

Master Wei smiled and said, "although the next words are unfair to other literary friends, I still want to say, are you tired of waiting? Then don't wait. The last group will come on! Literati examples, four praising scholars, leaders of holy ruins, one state of culture, top eight imperial examinations, twelve holy journals, cabinet walking, the first in the world, Fang Yunfang, please go to the stage!"

burst into thunderous cheers.

Fang Yun got up and thanked all parties, and then walked quickly to the Wentai with the other four people.

The four men looked at Fang Yun bitterly, sad as a child who had been robbed of snacks for a year.

Fang Yun coughed softly, arched his hands slightly, walked to the upper stage and walked to the fifth table.

Five people stood at the table, and one whispered: "it is said that at the Mid Autumn Festival literary meeting, a genius hated Fang Yun to death because the emcee originally wanted to introduce the man, but Fang Yun's song" water tune song head " It's said to cover up the man's literary name. No one knows what the man wrote so far. I don't know how many tears he shed! Why don't the four of us compete first? The last thing to leave is to let master Wei read the poems of the three of us first. When we leave, let Fang Yun write it himself and let him compete with Nangong Confucianism. "

"Don't be delusional. If we have a chance to resist, why do we have to beg those people. I really want to jump Yushan with the smiles of those people under the stand!"

"Write together and jump together after writing!"

"Good!"

The four people moved their pen with grief and indignation, but only wrote one sentence. At the same time, the four people looked up at the people under the stage and found a more sad thing. All of them were staring at Fang Yun!

Whether it was the great Confucian or bachelor at the first table or the women and children in the distance, even the white fox didn't look at them.

Even the owner of the Wei family, who presided over the cultural conference, walked behind Fang Yun and read with spring thunder while watching Fang Yun write. This was a treatment that everyone could not enjoy before.

"No writing!" one put down his pen sadly and angrily, hurried to Fang Yun's back and craned his neck to see.

The other three looked at each other, silently made the same move, and walked behind Fang Yun together.

The master of the Wei family chanted the title with spring thunder: "remember the brothers in the holy ruins on September 9..."

Fang Yun continued to write.

"Be a stranger in a foreign land alone..."

After the master Wei finished reading, everyone saw that the orange talent rose from the paper, but it rose very little, only two inches, which was not only worse than many poetic talents in the world, but also no better than others in the Chongyang literary society.

"All the talents are exhausted!" whispered the little Duke.

Lei Yuanting nodded with a smile.

Many people in the left seat shook their heads and sighed, seemingly regretful.

On the other hand, the man on the right was silent and stared nervously at Fang Yun.

Fang Yun slowly wrote down the second sentence, and master Wei slowly recited it. Then everyone saw the wonders they had never seen before.

Every time Fang Yun writes a word, his talent increases by five inches. That talent is not surging. It's like flying!

"I miss my family every festival."

After writing the second seven words, the talent of paper increased by three feet and five inches!

Most people were stunned by this terrible talent growth. No one had seen such a vision at all.

"A legend of a town!" a Jinshi blurted out.

However, those with higher literary status don't care about this talent vision, but are trying to figure out the sentence "think twice about relatives during the festival".

Wen Xiang Jiang Hechuan couldn't help muttering to himself: "there are thousands of poems about missing relatives, but they can't reach Fang Yun's seven words."

"The emotional truth and depth of this sentence have reached the realm of returning to nature. The rhetoric is far inferior to that song" when does the water melody song? When does the bright moon exist ", but the feeling of missing in it is not inferior. It is worthy of Fang Zhenguo. We can never write such sincere but simple poems when we write thousands of poems."

"In the past, there was' if the two feelings last for a long time, how can they be in the morning and evening '; later, there was' the bright moon on the sea, and the ends of the world share this time'; then there was' I hope people will last a long time, and thousands of miles will share the beauty of the moon '. A few days ago, there was' the belt of clothes will gradually widen, and people will not regret, and people will be haggard for Iraq'. Today, coupled with 'thinking twice about relatives every festival', Fang Yun's ability to write love is unprecedented."

"If Cao Zhi is reborn, I'm afraid he will personally take off the 'crown of eight fights' and give it to Fang Yun."

In the public discussion, Fang Yun wrote the whole poem.

Being a stranger in a foreign land alone,

I miss my family every festival.

I know the place where the brothers climb,

One person is missing when inserting Cornus all over.

Talent broke through four feet and officially Zhenguo.

Wen Xiang Jiang Hechuan got up and clapped slowly.

The rest of them got up one after another, including Nangong Leng, a great Confucian in the state of Wu. Even Tong Luan, a military minister whose grandson died because of Fang Yun, couldn't help nodding gently.

The Chongyang Cultural Association stood up for the third time.