Except for Lun Mingyi's abrupt words, the venue was still silent.

Everyone was thinking about the ten-character poem Zhao Ce had just composed, and listening to the following four seven-character poems, they were all shocked and unable to recover.

Palindrome poems are already extremely difficult, but Zhao Ce's poem is even more difficult.

Now when I think back to the ten-character poem at the beginning, I realize that the poems they usually come into contact with are really superficial!

They were even complacent about it, intending to comment on poems that they didn’t even understand at first!

Mr. Lu still held the writing brush in his hand. The ink on the pen dripped because he had not written for a long time, leaving a pool of ink on the white paper.

Lun Mingyi's words made him subconsciously open his mouth, wanting to say something.

However, needless to say, other people who were not too concerned about the excitement had already picked up his unfinished poem.

After everyone commented, they put the two white papers together.

In such a comparison, the judge can be judged.

Mr. Lu's face turned red from suppressing it, and he broke into the crowd, trying to get his poems back.

"I, I haven't finished writing yet."

"Oh..." Lun Mingyi protracted his accent and joked: "Then we also look forward to Mr. Lu's masterpiece?"

Mr. Lu snatched his poem back and said, "I won't do it anymore. I admit defeat!"

"Even if I compose forty more poems, it's impossible to compare with them!"

Zhao Ce chuckled lightly, waved the fan in his hand and said, "Young Master Lu, are you going to admit defeat now?"

Mr. Lu frowned and said, "I am indeed not as good as you, so why not admit defeat?"

"It's just that although your poem is good, it's just a play on words."

"When it comes to the imperial examination..."

The unfinished words were suddenly choked in his throat, and Mr. Lu found that he could not speak at all.

Isn’t the imperial examination just a word game?

Yes!

Zhao Ce's writing is so good, how could he have so little ink in his chest?

How can someone who is not good at word games want to stand out in the imperial examination?

Unless there is really smoke coming out of the ancestral grave at home, and you meet the examiner who just likes you, it is impossible to be ranked at the top.

If you can connect small and medium-sized three yuan, how can you say that it is just good luck?

Zhao Ce asked with a smile: "Master Lu, how about the imperial examination?"

Mr. Lu was so anxious that his face flushed red. He held the poem he had written, but his mind was blank for a moment.

The classmates next to him had already moved a few steps away from him when no one was paying attention.

Some people even looked around and pretended that they did not come with Mr. Lu.

Mr. Lu looked dry and hesitated for a while before lowering his head.

"Young Master Zhao is a great talent, but I don't know how high the sky is and how dare I try to do anything for my job."

"I can get advice from Mr. Zhao today, and I will never forget it in my life..."

What he said was extremely sincere.

Zhao Ce said with a half-smile but not a smile: "Master Lu, you are serious."

"I have said before that when my husband was teaching essay writing, he said that poetry only requires a brief understanding."

"He also said that teaching us to learn pronunciation and rhyme and to learn correct categories is just so that we can write articles with beautiful rhythm when we write articles for exams."

"We are not asked to take the knowledge we have learned and go around writing poems to compete with others to become child prodigies."

"After all, if you just rely on your talents and compete everywhere, you don't know when you will hit a hard wall and lose yourself to the dregs?"

After Zhao Ce finished speaking, everyone present who was originally in high spirits also became a little rested.

Many of my husbands have actually said these words.

Now that Zhao Ce, who compared them to scum, said it again, they all lowered their heads in shame.

Lun Mingyi said with some shame: "We're not here for a competition, it's just a banquet. There has to be some fun, right?"

Zhao Ce nodded in agreement and said: "Master Lun is right, so everyone should enjoy themselves and write down all the good poems, and we can appreciate them together."

Lun Mingyi chuckled, and everyone else also breathed a sigh of relief.

"Zhao Ce has said so, so what should we do with the banquet?"

After Lun Mingyi said this, the atmosphere in the room became lively again.

One person said: "Although we don't need to be too eager to win, we still need to choose the best poet for this banquet."

"Although many people here have not yet started composing poems, everyone has no objection to Mr. Zhao being the first poet in this poem, right?"

Everyone shook their heads and said no.

Zhao Ce thought that this was going to be a wine order, so he quickly said: "I will not participate, you can taste and evaluate by yourself."

Lun Mingyi agreed: "With Zhao Ce's level, he is really not suitable to participate in the selection."

"Let's do this. Zhao Ce, you can be a judge for us. We will taste our respective poems together and see how they are written."

"The good ones will be used and evaluated, and the bad ones will be discarded."

Everyone warmly invited him, and Zhao Ce agreed.

The poetry meeting started again.

Just because they have Zhuyu in front of them, many people feel that the poems and essays they have prepared for a long time are not very good no matter how they read.

Many people were shaking their heads and wanted to revise the poems they had prepared.

Zhao Ce was drinking tea and waiting for the person who had written the poem to read it out.

While the people in the room were meditating hard, the maid came in with another person.

Zhao Ce looked up and saw that it was Mr. Song.

Mr. Song had already arrived, but he took his entourage around the courtyard.

Seeing that everyone in the room was still thinking about writing poems, he couldn't help but smile and said: "When I went out just now, you were already preparing. Who would have thought that you haven't written a poem yet?"

A student next to him sighed: "It's not that we can't compose it, it's just that a poem written by Zhao Ce before made us really confused as to how to proceed."

Mr. Song looked at Zhao Ce, who smiled faintly.

"Oh? Zhao Ce wrote the poem first?"

The man added, "Isn't that right? Mr. Lu asked Brother Zhao to give you some advice. As a result, after the advice continued, all of us here almost didn't dare to do it."

Mr. Lu in the corner laughed dryly, lowered his head and pretended to think about his unfinished painting.

Mr. Song raised his eyebrows and said an unexpectedly long "Oh".

"Can you give me some advice? Mr. Lu is quite open-minded and eager to learn..."

Mr. Lu lowered his head and grabbed the edge of the table with one hand, picking at it awkwardly.

Song Gongzi said: "It will take you a long time to write this poem. I think it looks good outside. Would you like Zhao Ce to go out and walk around together?"

Zhao Ce thought for a while, it was indeed quite boring to wait in the house all this time.

So he stood up and said, "Okay, let's walk around."

Mr. Song took Zhao Ce out of the other courtyard and asked Zhao Ce what happened at the banquet just now.

I heard that Zhao Ce compared Mr. Lu with a palindrome poem, and he was about to say a few words of praise.

Suddenly there was a rush of horse hoofbeats from the other side. Zhao Ce looked up after hearing the familiar sound of horse hoofbeats.

Then I saw Deputy General Wang riding his horse alone with a solemn expression.

Seeing Zhao Ce and the two of them, he quickly stopped his horse and said directly without even having time to take a few breaths: "Brother Zhao, do you know if there is another way down the mountain here?"
Chapter completed!