Holding the half-poem, Jiang Sheng walked out of the bedroom and looked at the three people with expectant faces.
"Hurry up and bring it here!"
Zhao Xuehui, curious, urged him on, and before Jiang Sheng could hand it over, she snatched it away.
"Here you go, I'm so worried about you, you're not going to run away."
"I've been waiting to see your masterpiece, little brother!"
Zhao Xuehui glanced at Jiang Sheng with a hearty laugh, then chuckled, "Let me see your masterpiece!"
After saying that, he eagerly opened the paper and read it from beginning to end.
Gradually, her eyes went from initial astonishment to being moved, until finally her almond-shaped eyes slightly opened.
An incredible color!
All of this was because the content of the poem in front of her far exceeded her imagination and limits!
However, she had a strange feeling that the poem was not yet finished, as if there was still a blank space waiting to be filled in.
As Zhao Xuehui watched, she completely forgot to comment on Jiang Sheng.
Sometimes I reminisce, sometimes I frown.
"Second sister," Zhao Nianmeng, seeing her younger sister's expression, raised an eyebrow and asked in an annoyed tone, "Judging from your expression, how well did Xiaosheng write his poem? Why don't you read it to us?"
“Yes,” Zhao Defu chimed in curiously, “Let us take a look too, let us see the masterpiece written by the great poet Jiang!”
At this moment, Zhao Xuehui came to her senses and glanced at the two of them.
"Let me read it to you!"
After she finished speaking, she cleared her throat.
Starting tomorrow, be a happy person.
Feeding horses, chopping wood, and traveling the world
Starting tomorrow, pay attention to food and vegetables.
I have a house facing the sea, where spring is warm and flowers bloom.
Starting tomorrow, I will communicate with each of my relatives.
Tell them about my happiness
That blissful lightning bolt told me
I will tell everyone…
After finishing reading, Zhao Xuehui still felt a little unsatisfied.
Then he looked at Jiang Sheng with bright eyes.
"Xiaosheng, how exactly did you write this poem?"
Zhao Xuehui has read so many excellent poems and appreciated many works by famous people.
But this was the first time he had ever seen a poem so imaginative and so full of happiness.
Jiang Sheng was prepared.
"Actually, I wrote this poem on a whim. I suddenly came to Yanjing City from a small village, so I was moved to write it."
"Getting into university means that my future life has begun a brand new journey. My heart is filled with expectations for freedom, longing for a simple life, and the spirit of exploring the unknown world."
Seeing Zhao Xuehui's eyes light up more and more as she listened, Jiang Sheng smiled slightly and perfectly delivered the sentence he had originally wanted to say.
"So after I wrote it, I couldn't wait to show the poem to my second sister, since you are the one in our family who knows the most about poetry."
"Look at you, you've started praising your second sister as you talk."
Zhao Nianmeng couldn't help but chuckle and shake her head.
"Although I'm not good at literature, I'm still someone who went to university. Xiaosheng, your poem is really well written. I have to say you're amazing."
As for Zhao Defu, he only thought the poem was beautifully written, but if asked to analyze it, he would just be like a cow chewing on a peony.
Just give Jiang Sheng a thumbs up and blindly praise him.
"Brother Sheng, you're amazing! You're full of surprises!"
Upon hearing this, Jiang Sheng couldn't help but chuckle: "You're such a smooth talker. Alright, alright, stop praising me so readily. This time, I've asked my second sister to help me see if there's anything wrong with it, and hopefully she can correct it for me."
As he spoke, he humbly looked at Zhao Xuehui and said, "Second Sister, could you help me see if there's anything I need to improve?"
"No."
Without even thinking, Zhao Xuehui shook her head without hesitation: "If I really had to pick out a fault in your poem, I wouldn't be able to find one at all."
“But then again,” Zhao Xuehui cleared her throat, her face showing a mixture of confusion and regret, and said to Jiang Sheng in a slightly annoyed tone, “Xiao Sheng, tell me honestly, haven’t you finished writing this poem yet? I have a feeling there should be more to it.”
As expected of my second sister, who usually loves poetry, she can even tell from this.
Jiang Sheng, who was thinking this way, nodded quickly, as if he had suddenly realized something, after his second sister said that.
"Yes, yes, I just don't have a clue yet, so I thought I'd ask you for some pointers?"
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