Saint of the Confucian way

As soon as Bai left, the leftists left one after another.

A few months ago, at least half of the people would have left, but less than 20% are leaving now.

Chen Hanlin in the pavilion breathed a sigh of relief and began to preside over the Xuemei cultural meeting according to the usual practice. Originally, he wanted to invite the highest ranking person in the plum garden to give a speech, but Jiang Hechuan was not interested, so he went straight to the next step and asked ten new children to recite the top ten poems on the Xuemei cultural list last year.

These children are very happy. Their coming is not just a courtesy. The talent of so many scholars present is surging, which is of great benefit to them.

After ten children finished reading the poems of last year's Xuemei Wen Hui, Chen Hanlin began to tell the interesting stories of the previous Xuemei Wen Hui. Many people have heard several stories, but they can never get tired of hearing them.

Fang Yun was Fang Yun, so he had to say, "when will it be done?"

"Do it as soon as the ugly time arrives. Don't waste time. Go back to bed after Wen oppresses the talents of ten countries." Jiang Hechuan said.

"You... Are quite straightforward."

Fang Yun counted the time in his mind. When he was ugly, he counted it as one o'clock in the morning with military time, and he arrived soon.

When one o'clock in the morning was approaching, no one offered poems in the plum garden, and everyone looked to Fang Yun.

At the same time, xuemeiwen in cities around Jingguo will be surprisingly calm, waiting for what, and other countries will also change.

People from all over the ten countries look towards the capital of Jingguo.

"I wonder if Fang Zhenguo can still Zhenguo again!"

"Fang Zhenguo, don't write, don't write. If you write, I won't be on the Xuemei list this year..."

"The town failed! The town failed..." a few people cursed secretly.

Many famous people are extremely calm at the moment and do not seem to be prepared to write poetry at the most critical time.

The ugly bell rings. At this moment in previous years, Xuemei's list must be as chaotic as snow, but now, the list is quiet and the ranking is motionless.

Ten thousand people look at the scenic capital, and Meiyuan town is the world.

"Go up," Jiang Hechuan said.

Fang Yun nodded and spoke as he walked to the pavilion.

"Xuemei Cultural Club is one of the major cultural clubs of the human race. On the day I stepped out of the Dragon platform, I thought in my heart and never had a clue. After I entered the tiger prison, I thought back and thought about the past. On that day, I wrote the poem" divination operator ", which was half que. In any case, I couldn't make the second half que. I wrote it first."

As Fang Yun said this, he entered the pavilion and wrote the upper part of the poem divination operator.

"By the broken bridge outside the post, I'm lonely and have no owner. It's dusk and I'm worried alone. It's even more windy and rainy."

There were sighs everywhere.

Nu Nu blinked and looked at Ao Huang.

Ao Huang thought and looked at Su Xiaoxiao.

Su Xiaoxiao whispered, "the first half of this poem is probably to recall the scene seen in the early spring of that year. Next to the broken bridge of the post station, a plum tree is in full bloom alone and no one pays attention. It was originally dusk, and now there is only one, which is naturally very sad, but what is more desolate is that the plum blossom petals are scattered in the wind and rain."

"Xiaoyun suffered." Yang Yuhuan lowered his head and wiped his tears. Su Xiaoxiao hurriedly handed over his handkerchief.

Nu Nu jumped on Yang Yuhuan's lap, looked at Yang Yuhuan, and whispered to comfort her.

Fang Yun continued, "I've come to understand the hardships I've experienced in prison, but I was sent out of the tiger prison before I could think of the second half que. I didn't have time to think about the second half que until I passed the punishment of the moon tree god." as he said, Fang Yun continued to write.

In the process of Fang Yun's writing, Jiang Hechuan threw out text photo printing, and the invisible power fell on the paper.

"I don't want to fight for spring. Any group of Fang is jealous. Scattered into mud and ground into dust, only fragrance is as good as before."

After Fang Yun finished writing, his talent soared to the sky, and his talent of more than four feet jumped onto the paper.

The word becomes a town.

The ink fragrance flutters, the sound spreads for hundreds of miles, the words shine, and visions occur frequently.

But in the end, a warm breath spread all over the plum garden.

It's late winter at the moment. Even under the influence of the power of the holy temple, the plum trees are not fully open. However, after the words are written, countless plum blossoms compete to open, with numerous branches and strong plum fragrance.

The branches of plum trees are covered with pink, red and white plum blossoms. There are so many plum blossoms that the branches are pressed down.

"This......" Jiang Hechuan looked surprised.