Li Baobei watched with great interest the various figures outside the curtain.
She wanted to see just how well the ancients could write poems about red beans.
A legend like her is definitely going to make her appearance last!
How could we do justice to the great ancient poet-Buddha Wang Wei if we didn't put him on the grand finale?
A clear voice rang out:
"In August, green plants appear, and cicadas chirp noisily on the branches."
"I suspect it's a fallen red bead; upon closer inspection, I see it's a love-longing seed."
The sound came from the opposite cubicle, but Li Baobei didn't see anyone.
Some people carefully analyzed the poem, saying, "Although this poem mentions red beans, it only has a superficial literal meaning and lacks a deeper connotation. Upon closer examination, it still falls short of its intended purpose."
"Yes, you're right, brother. But upon closer inspection, it does lack a bit of meaning."
The people in the audience started discussing amongst themselves, but there was no loud cheering.
People kept writing poems, and Li Baobei carefully appreciated them.
However, most people associate red beans with farmers, without any deeper meaning.
Or they describe red beans in a flowery but impractical way, which is really not flattering.
It makes you shake your head when you hear it.
She frowned helplessly, propped her head up with one hand on the armrest, and tapped the table with her other fingers.
He continued listening listlessly to the poems written by the others.
Suddenly, that gentle voice rang out again from beside the screen:
"As night deepens, I light lamps to warm the candlelight, but as I bid you farewell, my heart grows cold."
A hairpin adorned with pearls and rouge, does it know the depth of my longing?
A voice suddenly rang out from outside the curtain: "This... is a good poem, truly a good poem."
The people in the hall carefully considered the matter and nodded in agreement.
Upon hearing the poem, Li Baobei frowned and muttered to herself, "This..."
"This poem is very similar to the poem 'Nan Ge Zi Ci' by Wen Tingyun, a poet from the Tang Dynasty. Upon closer examination, it feels as if they are the same poem. They are so similar that it is very difficult to evaluate. It is extremely difficult to evaluate."
She couldn't help but tap her head. This was really hard to judge, but it was also a very good poem!
An elderly man sat on a wooden chair, stroked his white beard, and exclaimed admiringly, "This young master's poem is truly excellent. I haven't appreciated such profound and insightful verses in a long time."
"What a wonderful poem! It is written from a woman's perspective and profoundly expresses her concern, admonitions, and deep longing for the man who is traveling far away."
In particular, the line “Pearl hairpin inlaid with red beans, does the longing penetrate to the bone know?” uses pearl hairpins as a metaphor for the longing for love, which is novel and refreshing.
"Indeed, a fine poem."
Everyone nodded in approval, and the entire group couldn't help but exclaim in unison, "What a wonderful poem! What a wonderful poem!"
Li Baobei sighed deeply, "Forget it, he went to so much trouble to write such a poem, I shouldn't interfere. The top spot definitely belongs to this handsome young man with the nice voice next to him, I wish him good luck."
She muttered to herself.
"Why do you sigh, young master? Is it because my poem is not to your liking?" Dongfang Yerong asked gently from the side.
Li Baobei felt embarrassed upon hearing the sound.
He quickly explained, "No, your poem is undoubtedly the best today. I was just expressing my own thoughts, so there's no need to bring it out."
Dongfang Yerong raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, revealing a wicked yet charming smile.
He thought to himself, "This Li Nannan has really developed self-awareness. She's not like the fearless and willful little girl she used to be. Interesting!"
He continued to inquire, "I would still like to hear your poem, sir, otherwise it would feel a bit unfair to have won, haha!"
A hearty laugh rang out, and Li Baobei almost lost herself in the sound.
Isn't this the modern version of a voice actor? The voice acting for this handsome anime male protagonist is absolutely amazing.
It's comparable to Lord He's voice.
Li Baobei's mind gradually conjured up the handsome face of an anime male protagonist, and she matched him with the image of the young man next to her whose face she hadn't yet seen.
Deep down, I was certain: "The guy next to me must be handsome."
But it has nothing to do with me! Lord He is already incredibly handsome.
"No need! No need! I won't show off my skills in front of Guan Yu. Your poem truly deserves to be number one today."
Li Baobei continued to decline, her tone indifferent.
"Oh!" Dongfang Yerong was curious, not knowing that Li Nannan could now write poetry, which piqued his curiosity.
I heard that Li Nannan won first place at the last poetry gathering at the Princess's residence, and her poem was also excellent.
But since I didn't see it with my own eyes, it still feels a bit far-fetched.
Dongfang Yerong continued to inquire, "If you, young master, do not wish to recite your poem, why not ask the waiter to bring pen and ink, and you can write it down on paper for me to appreciate?"
"Does the young master think this is feasible?"
Li Baobei was considering whether or not to write down the poem when she noticed that the waiter had already brought over the brush, ink, paper, and inkstone.
"So fast?" she thought to herself. "Oh well, it's just a poem, I'll write it!"
The waiter had prepared the brush and ink, and Li Baobei wrote the words on the paper with great enthusiasm, then gently blew on it.
Xiao Er picked up the paper, glanced at the poem Li Baobei had written, and couldn't help but frown.
The handwriting was crooked and slanted, resembling a child's scribbles, and had no aesthetic appeal whatsoever.
The waiter found it strange; the young man in front of him looked handsome and even more so than Pan An.
However, this calligraphy is indeed somewhat unsuitable for formal occasions.
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