"I don't think so. Judging from the boy's age, he is at most five years old. He can compose such exquisite poems at the age of five. He is no better than that child prodigy. That child prodigy could compose poems at the age of six, and the child in front of us is one year earlier than him." The middle-aged man who was optimistic about Xiao Moer argued.
When everyone heard his words, many people nodded in agreement.
In terms of age, Xiao Moer is undoubtedly slightly better.
The young man standing by the capital city's child prodigy argued, "The outside world is saying he wrote the poem at the age of six. How can anyone be sure he didn't write it when he was five?"
The middle-aged man immediately retorted, "Neither you nor I can explain this explicitly. If you want to clarify, you'll have to ask the person involved. However, based on what we know so far, this child has a slight advantage."
"That's right. Even if he is not as good as that child prodigy, just looking at his performance today, it is not an exaggeration to call him a child prodigy." An old man said something very pertinent.
Naturally, his words were recognized by everyone present.
Bei Yutang, standing in the crowd, was naturally happy to see everyone praising Xiao Mo'er. As for whether he was better than the child prodigy, Bei Yutang didn't care.
If these people knew that Xiao Moer had only been studying for half a year, I'm afraid no one would dare to say that Xiao Moer was not as good as that child prodigy.
Of course, Bei Yutang wouldn't tell anyone that her little boy had only been studying for half a year, mostly without a teacher. If they knew, their first reaction would probably be "impossible."
Bei Yutang was shocked by how powerful Xiao Moer was.
After traveling through so many dimensions, she has yet to meet a child who can rival him.
Xiao Mo'er didn't show much of a reaction when he heard everyone's exclamations and praises. If it was the first round, he would be happy, because it was a kind of pride, a kind of proud joy of being recognized.
Now, after the failure in the first round and failing to beat No. 38, he felt a little upset.
At this time, before seeing the poem of No. 38, he would not be complacent at all because of the praise from outsiders.
Xiao Zimo stared at Qin Yuxuan with burning eyes, and a raging fire of war flashed in his dark and bright eyes.
Qin Yuxuan naturally saw the little guy's fighting eyes, and a slight curve appeared at the corner of his lips.
This little guy is also very interesting.
Under Xiao Moer's expectant gaze, the servant finally spread out the poem No. 38.
Little Mo'er's eyes quickly passed by, silently reciting in his heart, "Open your mouth and smile, laugh at the past and the present, and take everything with a smile; be broad-minded and tolerant, tolerate everything in heaven and earth."
With Xiao Zimo's previous sentence, his poem can be said to be exquisite.
To say his poetry is inferior to Xiao Zimo's is not necessarily true. To say that his poetry surpasses Xiao Zimo's is not to say that it completely crushes his. The two can be considered on par.
However, two of the three elders who were judging the wine voted for Xiao Mo'er, simply because his age was enough to convince them to vote for him. Therefore, Xiao Mo'er won the second round.
After hearing the result, Xiao Zimo's expression did not relax, because he had not won yet and there was still one round to go.
He wanted to use what he had learned to win the competition and let his mother enjoy the Sanshui fish feast.
The little guy said to himself silently in his heart, so he didn't dare to relax or be complacent.
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