The needles fell in the Chengqing Palace where all officials gathered together, and even the musicians next to them stopped and waited quietly.

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

Qi Xinghan's eyelids twitched, and suddenly he felt that he had been attacked by the emperor. However, as a censor and the arrogance in the bones of a literati, there was no reason to take it back when he said it. He didn't believe that there were still people who could shock him to the point of being speechless.

In the eyes of countless people, Qi Xinghan raised his hand and picked up the poem in the tray and looked at it carefully.

“…”

The guests in the hall were moved and were waiting anxiously. Even Mrs. Lu raised her mature and beautiful cheeks slightly and looked forward. Her pretty face was unique among the flowers, like a gorgeous peony blooming among the flowers.

Song Yufu is completely the opposite, and she wishes she could bury her head in her chest.

Those who are more capable of watching Qi Xinghan's face are observing the expression of Qi Xinghan. As long as there are any clues, they can basically guess the result.

What many generals and ministers did not expect was that Qi Xinghan, who has always been old-fashioned and honest, had a slightly extraordinary look.

Qi Xinghan held a thin piece of poetry and first looked at it with a little bit, just like examining the answers of younger students.

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

Next, I touched my beard, muttered silently, and nodded from time to time.

After a while, Qi Xinghan secretly raised the corner of his eyes and glanced at the emperor, with some confusion.

Qi Xinghan kept tasting and not talking. The guests present waited for a long time, but they were a little anxious and started to whisper.

When Song Ji saw this, he smiled and asked softly: "Mr. Qi, how about these three poems?"

The sound of "Qi Gong" is obviously mocking.

Being a censor, one is one, two is two. If you are just for the sake of being clever and speaking, then you will not be called "Old Madam Qi".

Qi Xinghan's face was as deep as water. He held the poem in both hands and read it for a long time before coughing lightly and brewing slightly:

"Well... these three poems... are indeed worthy of being 'talented' and will definitely be famous for thousands of years in the future. However, the poems are well written and governing the country as an official..."

"Wow—"

Before he finished speaking, noisy sounds broke out in the hall, and even Xiao Chuyang, who was still as motionless as a mountain, narrowed his eyes slightly.

Qi Xinghan, who has a more stubborn temper than the smelly stones in the pit, actually turned his mouth to change his mouth. Moreover, his evaluation is higher than that of the current emperor, and even used the "famous forever".

What kind of poetry does this need to make Qi Xinghan admit defeat and whine back?

In an instant, the censors and colleagues next to them began to look at what was written on the manuscript of the poem.

Song Ji raised his hand to interrupt Qi Xinghan's words and chuckled: "Duke Qi, talk about poetry first. People have not found it yet, so they cannot evaluate their talents and knowledge. Moreover, the 'fame is well received' is too heavy to make a conclusion in one sentence. You read these three poems once and let your dear friends appreciate it."

Qi Xinghan crashed into Song Ji's bureau and became a black face. What else could he say at this time? He picked up the manuscript of poetry and started to recite the poem:

"Ten years of life and death are in vain, and if you don't think about it, you will never forget it. A lonely grave that has nowhere to talk about is desolate..."

As soon as I said that, the noise in the room became quiet and my eyes lit up.

Qi Xinghan is an old man in his twilight years. He recites this poem with a charm and a touching feeling of sadness. The mourning of his deceased wife can be said to be a crying blood.

The female guests in the audience are prone to being sad about spring and autumn. "I suddenly return home when I come to the night of my dreams. I am dressing up in the small window. I look at each other without saying a word, but only tears flowing thousands of times." Just thinking of the picture makes my nose feel sore.

When he was young, the old minister who had "please share a long hair" heard this poem and couldn't help but recall the scene of talking with his wife at night when he was young.

Song Baiqing's wife died early in her poor family. She walked alone with her only daughter to this day. How could she miss the mutual support she had when she was studying hard?

People have seven emotions and six desires, and the same is true for kings, princes, generals and ministers. Who has no concern in their hearts?

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

The hall was quiet for a long time before an old master from the Imperial College opened his mouth to break the peace:

"A good word, one who cultivates oneself, manages one's family, governs the country and pacifies the world. Those who have such friendship with their deceased wife are definitely not people with improper minds. I think they have done it because of self-cultivation and family."

The evaluation of people rather than words is very good. After all, the quality of saying words on the spot is not the ability to do so. I guess I have to go back and study it for many geniuses to make a conclusion.

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

Qi Xinghan made up his mind and continued:

"Withed vines, old trees, crows, small bridges, flowing water, and thin horses in the ancient road, sunset, heartbroken people are at the end of the world."

After reading a few short sentences, the response caused was not as high as the previous song.

It’s not that they have different heights, but that they can sit in Chengqing Hall and be invited by the emperor. They cannot have such a situation. Even if they are poor, they are at least ranked as Jinshi. They are considered to be the pride of heaven among the students who cross the river.

After savoring it, everyone could only start by describing the scenery and praised it. As for the lyricism, it is difficult to comment.

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

It's about 60 years old, his first wife is dead, and he is a late-growing old wanderer. He has a lot of talent but has nowhere to live.

This is indeed a common appearance for experts.

Everyone had this impression and couldn't help but look forward to the third poem even more, wanting to analyze more information from it to determine whether this person has real talent or knowledge or is just a sour scholar full of complaints.

What everyone did not expect was that Qi Xinghan's momentum changed completely and said aloud:

"When you are drunk, you look at the sword with a lamp, and dream of blowing the horns and camps. You are divided into 800 miles of fire under your command, and you are fifty strings that turn the sound of the block outside. You are in autumn on the battlefield.

The horse made Lu Feifei, the bow was as fast as a thunderbolt. It was shocking. It eliminated the affairs of the king and won the reputation of his life. It happened poorly in vain!"

The words and sentences are sonorous and powerful, just like a veteran in his twilight years, recalling the past that spreads the world in the humble room.

The sudden change in emotions actually made the guests in the hall stunned for a moment before showing surprise!

Is this written by one person?

From the sadness of "looking at each other without words, only tears flowing thousands of times" to the desolation of "heartbroken people are at the end of the world", it suddenly turned into the heroic spirit of "looking at the sword with a lamp while drunk, dreaming of blowing the horns and camping."

This is not about writing poetry, it is called showing off!

Especially the saying "resolve the affairs of the king and win the reputation of the past and after life" is obvious.

Isn’t it just that I am full of talent and cannot succeed in learning and want to join the government to help the king govern the world? I guess I also have the meaning of my ambitions that have not diminished even though I am old.

There was an uproar in the hall, and the important officials present were a little surprised. They never expected that someone would recommend themselves to this extent.

The key is that these three poems are impeccable, and they have nothing to say. Could it be that they are depressed and unsuccessful, and that they are not allowed to write two poems to tell the current situation?

But no matter how you read these three poems, they are all showing off your skills. How can a person's experience be so rich and his mood changes so much.

In the audience was surprised, Song Baiqing thought about it, and always felt that the saying "Looking at the sword with a light while drunk" sounded a little familiar. It seemed that he had heard it somewhere, so he spoke:

"Sage, these three poems are really written by one person? Can you please observe them for me?"
Chapter completed!