The same thought echoed in the minds of others in the room. Bi Ziang, who had been leisurely leaning back in his chair, subconsciously sat up straight and even leaned forward slightly, wanting to hear the other party's next work as soon as possible.
Yu Nan swallowed hard, because he suddenly realized that he might be caught off guard again.
At this moment, Zuan's melodious voice resounded throughout the entire venue:
"In my drunken stupor, I pick up my sword by lamplight; in my dreams, I hear the bugles echoing through the camps."
Eight hundred miles of roasted meat are distributed among the troops, and fifty strings of music resound beyond the Great Wall.
Autumn military review on the battlefield!
The horse galloped swiftly like the wind, the bowstring twanged like thunder.
Having accomplished the affairs of the emperor and the world, he won fame both before and after his death.
"Poor thing, my hair has turned white."
At first, there were some people chatting and exchanging ideas privately, but soon everyone fell silent and turned to look at the person in the center of the room.
An atmosphere of grimness gradually filled the room. Everyone had their mouths open, as if they had a thousand words to say, but it was as if a large hand was gripping their throats, leaving them speechless for a moment.
Those who cultivate feel their vital energy surging, while those who don't also feel their blood boiling. Everyone thinks, "No one can stop me, I want to go into battle and kill the enemy!"
Zu An was not surprised by their reaction. Xin Qiji is one of the greatest lyricists in Chinese history. This poem, "Po Zhen Zi," is known as the most murderous poem in history, and it is even praised as a single poem that surpasses the Southern Song Dynasty.
In today's world, martial arts are flourishing, but the state of culture and education is a long shot; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it a cultural desert. Xin Qiji's work is a complete game-changer.
"Ah Zu, have you ever been to the battlefield?" Qin Guangyuan asked excitedly, gripping the railing tightly. After hearing the poem, even his address became more affectionate.
Zuan shook his head: "No."
"No?" Qin Guangyuan exclaimed excitedly, "Then how could you describe a military career so vividly, as if it took me back to the days when I fought alongside my grandfather and father on the battlefield!"
Zu An thought to himself that the original author, Xin Qiji, had indeed been to the battlefield, but unfortunately, this experience could not be faked, as others could easily find out his resume.
Qin Yongde exclaimed in shock, "That's self-taught! You're a genius!"
The two were so excited that upon hearing the poem, they seemed to hear the sound of bugles and recall the scene of drawing their swords and going out of the camp to fight the enemy; they also seemed to be on the training ground, accompanying their grandfather and father to review the mighty and majestic army; and they were as if they had returned to the fierce and tense battlefield, with the sound of arrows flying and the tragic sound of swords piercing flesh all around them.
"To accomplish the affairs of the emperor and the world, and to win fame before and after death" is the dream of every soldier, but unfortunately, how many people throughout history have been able to achieve this?
What moved them even more was the last line, "It's a pity his hair has turned white." They thought of their grandfather (great-grandfather), a famous general who, for so many years, was feared by the emperor and could only be hidden in the capital because of the struggle for the crown prince.
You know, Grandpa's (Great-Grandpa's) dream has always been to fight on the battlefield. Unfortunately, he wasted most of his life in the capital. Recently, he was finally able to go on a campaign, but his hair had already turned white.
A strange look appeared in Nanxun's cold eyes as she stared blankly at Zu'an, her chest heaving and trembling.
Yu Nan opened his mouth. He had originally planned to nitpick after listening to the other person's work. Literary works are not like other works with standard answers. As long as what he said made sense, he could completely trample a good work into nothing.
But this doesn't include those masterpieces that are truly groundbreaking!
The poem Zu'an just mentioned is of great value to anyone who isn't illiterate. Not to mention contemporary writers, even all the famous writers in history combined couldn't match it.
If he were to forcefully jump out and nitpick at this point, he would only be seen as an idiot by everyone. With his pride and arrogance, he would never do such a thing.
On the other side, Bi Zi'ang's face was ashen. He could tell from the spirit displayed in the other person's work that he was not someone who would be subservient to others. He was not sure if he could subdue this fierce tiger.
I need to remind my sister, lest she raise a tiger that will become a menace.
At this moment, Gao Ying was so excited that he trembled all over. He had originally prepared to die for his company, but he never expected to be able to personally participate in such a masterpiece.
Centuries later, as long as this poem is passed down, people will mention him...
Wait a minute, they might mention someone who wrote the ghostwriting, but they might not know his name.
Thinking of this, he hurriedly lowered his head and began to write furiously.
Pei You, standing to the side, also felt proud. Seeing everyone's gaze, he subconsciously straightened his chest, wanting to say, "Zu An is my older brother!"
But he couldn't find a suitable opportunity. Just as he was getting anxious, he suddenly noticed Gao Ying's actions and wondered why he had started writing again after finishing reciting the poem.
I quietly peeked over to take a look and saw that he had written on it that it was written on a certain day of a certain month of a certain year at Hongxiuzhao, by his friend Gao Yingdai Zu'an.
"Holy crap!" Pei You's composure completely collapsed on the spot. How could he even get involved in this?
He was filled with regret. If he had known this would happen, he should have volunteered to write it when Zu'an asked him. Although his handwriting wasn't very good, what did it matter if it meant leaving a mark on history?
Who would have thought that Gao Ying, with his thick eyebrows and big eyes, who usually looks so honest, is actually so cunning!
Upstairs in that mysterious room, the maid was still somewhat unconvinced, muttering, "Miss, this poem is not bad, but it's not as exaggerated as they've made it out to be."
The mysterious woman shook her head: "You don't understand. The meaning of this poem is not just that... Alas, the human race is full of talented people. When will our race's revival end?"
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