The prince is very fierce

A pin drop could be heard in the Chengqing Hall where hundreds of officials gathered, and even the musicians next to them stopped and waited quietly.

Eunuch Jia held the tray, walked down the steps lightly, came to Qi Xinghan, and handed it out with both hands.

Qi Xinghan's eyelids twitched, and he suddenly felt that he had been tricked by the emperor. However, as a public speaker and with the arrogance of a scholar, there was no reason to take back his words. He did not believe that anyone could shock him with three poems. Speechless.

Under the gaze of countless people, Qi Xinghan raised his hand to pick up the poem manuscript in the tray and looked at it carefully.

"..."

The emotions of the guests in the hall were aroused, and they were all waiting anxiously. Even Mrs. Lu slightly raised her mature cheeks and looked forward. Her pretty face stood out among the flowers, just like a gorgeous peony blooming among the flowers.

Song Yufu was the complete opposite, wishing she could bury her head in her chest.

Xiao Chuyang and other more capable people can basically guess the result by observing Qi Xinghan's face, as long as there are some clues.

What many generals didn't expect was that Qi Xinghan, who had always been rigid and serious, had an extraordinary expression on his face.

Qi Xinghan held a thin piece of poetry manuscript and looked at it with some scrutiny at first, just like examining the answer sheet of a junior student.

But soon Qi Xinghan was stunned for a moment, and squinted his head slightly, obviously a little surprised.

Next, he was stroking his beard, muttering silently, and nodding from time to time.

After looking at it for a while, Qi Xinghan secretly raised his eyes and glanced at the emperor with some confusion.

Qi Xinghan remained silent while tasting the food. After waiting for a long time, the guests present became a little anxious and began to whisper.

When Song Ji saw him at about the same time, he smiled and asked softly: "Qi Gong, how do you like these three poems?"

The sound of 'Qi Gong' was obviously meant to be ridiculing.

When you are born as a public speaker, one is one, and two is two. If you speak cleverly for the sake of appearance, then you are not called "Qi Lao Peifu".

Qi Xinghan's face was as dark as water. He held the poem manuscript in both hands and read it for a long time. Then he coughed lightly and thought about it for a while:

"Well... these three poems... are indeed worthy of being called 'talented', and they will definitely be famous in the future. But if the poems are well written, they will be able to serve as officials and govern the country..."

"Wow——"

Before he finished speaking, there was a lot of noise in the hall, and even Xiao Chuyang, who was as motionless as a mountain, narrowed his eyes slightly.

Qi Xinghan, whose temper was as stubborn as a stinky stone in a latrine, actually changed his mind and changed his mind. His reputation was even higher than that of the current emperor, and he even used the term "famous through the ages".

What kind of poetry does this have to be to make Qi Xinghan give in and still criticize it?

All of a sudden, the fellow officials next to him began to stretch their necks and look around, trying to see what was written on the poem manuscript.

Song Ji raised his hand to interrupt Qi Xinghan's words, and said with a chuckle: "Qi Gong, let's talk about poetry first. We haven't found anyone yet, so we can't evaluate his talent and learning. Moreover, 'famous for thousands of years' is too strong a word to make a final conclusion. You Read these three poems for you to appreciate."

Qi Xinghan ran into Song Ji's situation and made a fool of himself. What else could he say at this time? He picked up the poem and thought about it for a while, then began to recite the poem:

"Ten years of life and death are so vast, without thinking about it, I will never forget it. I am alone in a tomb thousands of miles away, and there is no place to talk about the desolation..."

As soon as the words came out, the noisy place fell silent, and everyone's eyes lit up.

Qi Xinghan is an old man in his twilight years. When he reads this poem, it is full of charm and touching with sadness. The mood of mourning his deceased wife can be said to be tearful every word.

The place is full of female guests, who are easily saddened by spring and autumn. "At night, they suddenly return to their hometown with deep dreams, and they are dressing up by the small Xuan window." Looking at each other without words, only a thousand lines of tears. Just thinking of that picture makes my nose sore.

And the old minister who had "promised to grow old together" when he was young, when he heard this word, he couldn't help but recall the night conversation with his first wife by candlelight when he was young.

Songbai Qing was born in a poor family, his wife died young, and he has been alone with his only daughter until today. How can he not miss the mutual affection when he was studying hard in Han Chuang.

Everyone has seven emotions and six desires, and so do princes and generals. There is no one who cares about anyone in their heart.

After reciting a poem, there was no sound in the hall, only aftertaste was left.

The main hall was quiet for a long time, and then an old master from the Imperial College broke the silence:

"Good words. Cultivating one's moral character, harmonizing one's family, governing the country, and bringing peace to the world. Anyone who has such affection for his deceased wife is definitely not a person with evil intentions. Cultivating one's moral character, harmonizing one's family, and so on, I think he has done that."

Evaluate people rather than words. This evaluation is spot on. After all, I don’t have the ability to comment on the quality of words on the spot. I guess I have to go back and study for many days before I dare to draw a conclusion.

Everyone nodded and looked at Qi Xinghan, looking forward to the next song.

Qi Xinghan thought for a while and continued:

"Withered vines, old trees and dim crows, small bridges and flowing water, people's houses, west wind and thin horses on the ancient roads, the setting sun, heartbroken people are at the end of the world."

After reading just a few sentences, the response was not as high as the previous one.

It’s not that they are superior to each other, but that those who can sit in the Chengqing Palace and receive the emperor’s banquet cannot be in such a situation. Even if they are from a poor family, they are at least a Jinshi. Among the students who have crossed the river, they are considered to be the best in the world. Proud.

Everyone thought about it for a while, and they could only praise it from the aspect of describing the scenery. As for the lyricism, it was hard to comment.

However, just two poems are enough to make civil and military officials treat him differently. This poem is indeed worthy of the word "talented". Everyone also has a vague image in their minds:

He was probably an old wanderer who was in his sixties, his first wife was deceased, and he was a late bloomer. He was full of talent and learning but had nowhere to settle down.

This is indeed a common appearance among experts.

With this impression, everyone couldn't help but look forward to the third poem, hoping to analyze more information from it to determine whether this person had real talent or was just a grumbling scholar.

What everyone didn't expect was that Qi Xinghan's momentum suddenly changed and he said loudly:

"When I was drunk, I lit up the lamp and read the sword. I dreamed about the company's camp where the trumpets were blown. Eight hundred miles away, the soldiers under my command were burning, the sound of fifty strings turning over the wall was heard, and the soldiers were ordered in autumn on the battlefield.

The horse moves very fast, and the bow is like a thunderbolt. Finish the affairs of the king and the world, and win the reputation during and after death. Misfortune happens in vain! "

The words are sonorous and powerful, just like a waning old man recalling the past that spanned the world in a shabby room.

The sudden change in mood actually caused the guests in the hall to be stunned for a moment before showing their surprise!

Was this written by one person?

From the sadness of "looking at each other without words, only a thousand lines of tears", to the desolation of "the heartbroken people are at the end of the world", suddenly turned into the heroic spirit of "drunk with a lamp burning to watch the sword, dreaming of the company's trumpet blowing".

This is not writing poetry, this is called showing off skills!

In particular, the meaning of the sentence "Finish the affairs of the king and win the world, and win the reputation before and after death" is obvious.

Doesn't it mean that you are full of talent and have no ambition, and want to become an official to help the king govern the world? It probably means that although he is old, his ambition has not diminished.

There was an uproar in the main hall, and the important officials present were a little stunned. They did not expect that someone would recommend themselves to such an extent.

The key is that these three poems are impeccable and they have nothing to say. Is it possible that he is so depressed that he is not allowed to write two poems about his current situation?

But these three poems are all about showing off one's skills. How can a person's experience be so rich and his mood change so much?

Amid the astonishment of the entire audience, Song Baiqing thought about it for a moment, and felt that the phrase "Watching a sword while drunk" seemed a bit familiar. He seemed to have heard it somewhere, so he said:

"Your Majesty, are these three poems really written by one person? Can you give me some insight?"