Everyone was privately commenting on the exquisiteness of this poem.

"Holding hands and looking into each other's tearful eyes, yet speechless and choked with emotion?"

"Since ancient times, sentimental people have been sad about separation, and it is even more unbearable to be left alone in the cold autumn festival!"

"Where will I go when I wake up from my drunken stupor tonight?"

“…”

Zhuang Zhou didn't care.

This poem was written by Liu Yong, who was a frequent visitor to brothels.

He is the best at writing lyrics, and especially understands the thoughts of these singing girls the best.

He can be said to be the confidant of the geishas.

It is rumored that no one buried Liu Yong after his death.

It was the singing girls who pooled their money to bury him.

Because Liu Yong is good at writing about urban life.

There is also a rumor among the people that "wherever there is a well, people can sing the Eternal Song."

This shows the influence of this person.

"Excuse me, which brother wrote this poem?!"

The middle-aged man glanced at everyone, but no one answered.

His eyes fell on the attic maid and asked:

"Miss, may I ask what this person's name is?"

When he asked this question, everyone wanted to know who wrote this poem.

They knew most of the scholars and students in Chang'an.

But it seems that I don’t remember anyone who was good at writing lyrics.

And you can write words like this.

I believe he is definitely not an unknown person.

At this time, the attic maid glanced at the words in her hand and said loudly:

"This person's name is Liu Qi."

The maid's voice fell.

The lobby immediately exploded again:

"Liu Qi? Who is that?"

"Have you ever heard of a scholar named Liu Qi among the scholars in Chang'an?"

"If you ask me, I don't know him either!"

"I wonder who this is, Young Master Liu Qi? Please stand up and let me see you."

The name Liu Qi was of course left by Zhuang Zhou.

He originally copied this poem.

The right of authorship must belong to Liu Yong.

Liu Yong was also called Liu Qi.

Zhuang Zhou saw that the atmosphere was almost set.

Just as he was about to stand up and answer, he heard Ma San suddenly shout:

"It was made by Mr. Zhuang from my family."

Crash!

Everyone's eyes were fixed on a corner in the back seat.

Zhuang Zhou immediately felt countless pairs of eyes staring at him.

"Who is this person?"

"Never seen it?"

"He? Can he create such a masterpiece?"

"It doesn't look like it! Did you copy it?"

"Where can I copy such a masterpiece?"

Zhuang Zhou had no choice.

I had no choice but to stand up and smile faintly.

This feeling!

It’s like being the last in the class and suddenly getting the first place in the exam.

At this time, the head teacher called me to the podium and faced the questioning gazes of my classmates.

“…”