"I recently read Mr. Zhou's article "Theory of Love Lotus" and I admire it the most. I especially like it - I love the lotus that comes out of the mud without staining, washes in the clear water without being charming, straight in the middle and out, without vines or branches, the fragrance becomes clearer from afar, and the grass is pure and pure, so you can see it from afar without being misled.

Therefore, the first question today is to chant the lotus!"

At this time, Yang Xiao and the scholars heard Li Qingzhao say in an extremely clear voice.

"It's worthy of being Miss Li. Lotus is easy to write, but it's too difficult to write it out!"

After hearing Li Qingzhao's words, the scholars began to talk.

From ancient times to the present, poems about things such as wind, flowers, snow, moon, plum, orchid, bamboo, chrysanthemum, and lotus are the most common, and even some common people in the market can recite a few sentences.

But it is too difficult to write such poems well.

"You all should know that reading history can be wise and can make things happen. I have liked to read Mr. Chen Shou's Three Kingdoms recently, and I always think about it and my heart is surging. Therefore, the second question is to chant the aspirations of the Three Kingdoms!"

Then, everyone heard Li Qingzhao say again.

Then, she turned back into the curtain, which made all living beings quite melancholy.

At this time, a book boy had prepared pen, ink, paper and inkstone, and even helped grind ink.

"I really hit my copycat with this man who wrote this article! If I only made one, wouldn't you be underestimating me? Then let me kill you with poems!"

Watching Li Qingzhao return to the curtain, Yang Xiao laughed.

When I turned my head, I arrived at the desk. I was filled with thick ink and slapped my wrist and slapped my brush.

"Pretending to be a ghost!"

At this time, Zhao Mingcheng and others were still thinking, and seeing Yang Xiao’s look in a flash, they were all sneering.

"Look at me to make him lose face!"

The scholar surnamed Mei hated Yang Xiao the most, so he squeezed at everyone and came over.

With a hug and fist, "Looking at Yang Hou's confident look, I believe the poem he wrote must be the previous article!"

"I think I'm writing well!"

Yang Xiao was already writing the third song and said without raising his head.

"Will Mr. Yang dare to recite it in public?"

The scholar surnamed Mei reached out to get a piece of rice paper that he had written.

"If you are interested, just read it!" Yang Xiao sneered.

"Then I'm welcome, just for Yang Hou Zhang Ming!"

The scholar surnamed Mei picked up a poem written by Yang Xiao without hesitation and shouted loudly, "Yang Hou's literary talent is overwhelming, and he thinks his poems are beyond his control. Mei He is not talented, chanting poems for Yang Hou. Please give me some comments!"

After saying that, he began to read according to the script, "The gentle posture is light and beautiful, and it is pitiful to embellish the round pool..."

As soon as he read this, he stopped.

In his original impression, Yang Xiao could at most do likable poems such as "the country is in a general way, the black hole in the well, the yellow dog's body is white, and the white dog's body is swollen".

But unexpectedly, these two sentences are not only not oily, but are simply outrageous. He is quite self-aware and knows that he will definitely not be able to produce such exquisite poems.

"Read it!"

"Continue to recite!"

When Mei He paused, the scholars who had listened to him became anxious and started to clamor.

"Count the lotus leaves rain, and the evening fragrance can separate the small river sky!"

No matter how uncomfortable Mei He was, he had to finish reading the whole article by being forced to do so.

Then, it seemed as if there was no strength, and its face was as white as paper.

"Good poem!"

Listening to the poems that Mei He read, many scholars couldn't help but praise them. The most uncomfortable thing was that those scholars who already had a curse and even wrote a few lines of poems could only silently tear off their own manuscripts and began to reconceive them.

"Why is it so noisy outside?"

Inside the curtain, a group of women were extremely puzzled when they heard the noise outside.

Li Qingzhao was the first to ask.

"Miss, a new poem called Yang Hou outside wrote, called Yonglian, and the text was overwhelming the audience!"

Her maid quickly said, and at the same time recited the entire poem of Lotus to Li Qingzhao.

"Good poems are indeed wonderful! Which scholar is this Yang Hou? Why haven't I heard of his name?"

After hearing this, Li Qingzhao clapped her hands and then asked in confusion.

"Yes! We haven't heard of it!"

Several women all started to laugh.

One of the women in red was the most bold, and even pulled a corner of the curtain and looked out.

Then he giggled again, "What is Marquis Yang? This is Marquis Wu Zhong in the court, named Yang Xiao. I met him once. I thought he was just a vulgar martial artist, but I didn't expect to write poetry?"

Then, he simply stood up again and walked out of the curtain.

"Brother Mei, aren't you going to help me become famous? Why? Could it be that the thing I wrote is not your eye? "

At this time, Yang Xiao had finished writing the third poem. After putting down his pen, he looked at Mei He who was avoiding the side and sneered.

"Yang Hou wants to make a name for himself, so he can send someone in! I still have to conceive his own poems, and there is no time..."

In front of everyone, Mei He told her that Yang Xiao’s poems were not good, and he did not have the courage to do so.

Because there were many people present, especially Li Qingzhao, who was famous all over the world, but he was not easy to fool.

But if he was asked to help Yang Xiaoyangming, wouldn't he be better to kill him?

He could only take a step back and said weakly.

"How about I help Yang Hou chant poetry?"

Just as Yang Xiao was about to stimulate Mei He and Zhao Mingcheng again, a female voice rang.

As soon as he raised his eyes, Yang Xiao saw a very familiar body.

Of course he became familiar with it, because the two had contact with each other at a negative distance, because this person was Tong Jiaoxiu.

"I've met Miss Tong!"

The hall was full of people, so Yang Xiao could only bow forward.

"Hello, please be polite!"

Tong Jiaoxiu returned a blessing, picked up Yang Xiao's second poem, and said in an extremely beautiful voice, "The red and white lotus flowers bloom in the pond, and the two colors are as fragrant as the three thousand women in the Han Palace, half full of heavy makeup and half gorgeous makeup!"

"good!"

When he heard the poems that Tong Jiaoxiu recited, a group of scholars who listened to him were really slapped and congratulated each other.

"Yang Hou is a talented person, it is better to be happy than to seek pleasure! Instead of thinking hard, forcibly scraping your stomach, and complaining without any illness, it is better to listen to Yang Hou's poems quietly!"

The one who showed the most freedom and freedom was Li Xunhuan, who actually walked to Yang Xiao and bowed.

"The rolling Yangtze River flows eastward, and the waves wash away all the heroes. The right and wrong, success and failure turn empty. The green mountains are still there, and the sunset is red several times. The white-haired fishermen and woodcutters are used to watching the autumn moon and spring breeze. A pot of turbid wine meets each other happily. How many things are in a joke!" Then, everyone heard Tong Jiaoxiu in a crisp voice and then recited again.

This cannot be simply used to describe the word "good" as a metaphor. It simply left everyone present silent.

A picture of the Yangtze River flowing even appeared in front of them, making it impossible for everyone to express their deep feelings in their hearts in words for a while.

It was Tong Jiaoxiu, although she knew some poetry, she did not have such deep feelings. Instead, she picked up the fourth poem.

"Miss Tong!"

Before she could chant, a clear voice rang out.

It was Li Qingzhao who listened to a few good poems in a row, and couldn't sit still in the curtain, so she walked over.

"Can I chant this word?"

Li Qingzhao imitated her man's appearance, bowed her body and showed a look of mercy on her face.

For her, a person who loves poetry and is crazy, being able to see and recite such poetry at the first time can be said to be a blessing from her previous life.

"Sister Li, please!"

Although Tong Jiaoxiu came from a top wealthy family and had a prominent family background, she did not dare to be proud of Li Qingzhao.

After all, she had just heard of the whole country, and even the saint knew her name. She was just a lover Zhang Ming. It seemed that she would give it to Li Qingzhao more in line with her needs?
Chapter completed!