When Xie Chen heard everyone in the hall praising him, the corners of his mouth curled up uncontrollably. After being suppressed for a whole night, he finally got his revenge.
Although he had often received compliments before, today's compliments felt particularly touching, especially when he thought that Pei Yun would kneel down and kowtow at his feet later, he felt even better.
When I saw Pei Yun was still writing, the pleasure of crushing him became even more intense.
"Pei Yun, if you can't write it, don't be so stubborn. It's not shameful to lose to me. Now come over and kowtow to me."
Xie Chen spoke in a victorious tone, raised his head and looked at Pei Yun with his nose raised.
"Sir."
Leng Qingqiu pulled Pei Yun's sleeve, feeling a little sympathetic. The young master spent a long time writing and only wrote a few words. He was completely crushed.
Pei Yun sighed. Calligraphy was indeed not his forte. He also heard the poem written by Xie Chen, which was indeed good. If he wrote it himself, he would definitely not be able to match him.
But sorry, I'm a plagiarist.
Putting aside his problem, Pei Yun looked at the crooked words on the paper and felt a little embarrassed. It was too ugly, so he tore the paper and said, "Who said I lost?"
Xie Chen was stunned. "You haven't even written a poem yet, so you still don't admit it. Are you trying to cheat?"
"Who said that poetry can only be expressed in words if it is written down? Can't I read it to you?"
Pei Yun said this and opened his folding fan with a swish.
The nobles present were suddenly frightened. Pei Yun opened his fan when answering the first two questions, which had almost become a signal. Now he opened it again. Could he really write a poem?
Xie Zhaoyun's heart skipped a beat, and he felt that something bad was going to happen. He hurriedly said, "Your Majesty, my brother has finished his poem, but Pei Yun has not written it out. The winner has been decided. Please announce that my brother won the third question."
Xiao Cheng said, "Don't worry. Since Pei Yun said he wants to read it to everyone, let him read it. This question is not about speed. Whoever writes it first wins. You should have confidence in your brother."
Xie Chen also said: "Your Majesty is right, brother, just let him read it and make him admit defeat sincerely."
The other nobles also started to make a noise, "Let him read it and see what kind of nonsense poem he can come up with."
No one thought that Pei Yun could write any good poems. What kind of education could a bandit receive? How could it compare with those of the gentry? It was just a good opportunity for them to have Pei Yun read it out loud, so they could have fun.
Pei Yun looked at these nobles, smiled slightly, walked out from behind the table, and spoke in a low voice.
"Ten years of life and death, I can never forget you without even thinking about you."
Everyone was slightly stunned. What was this about? Mourning for the dead?
"A thousand miles away, a lonely grave, with nowhere to talk about the desolation."
"Even if we meet, we won't recognize each other, with dust on our faces and hair like frost."
The whole audience was silent, as if they saw a man who had experienced many vicissitudes of life, with a haggard face and gray hair, and who had a lot of sadness in his heart and nowhere to express it because of the death of his wife.
Xie Chen's hands couldn't help but tremble, and Xiao Zhiruo's beautiful eyes lit up with a strange light. Even Xiao Cheng couldn't help but lean forward, wanting to listen further.
Everyone was immersed in the artistic conception of the poem. Even someone like Leng Qingqiu, who was not very well educated, could understand the meaning behind it.
Pei Yun continued, "I had a dream last night and suddenly returned to my hometown. I saw her dressing in the window. We looked at each other without saying a word, but with tears streaming down our faces."
At this time, the hall was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Everyone held their breath and immersed themselves in it, only to hear Pei Yun's low voice.
"I guess the place where my heart breaks every year is the short pine hill on a moonlit night."
After Pei Yun finished reading, everyone was stunned for a long time. There was not a single word of the poem containing the word "lovesickness", but every line was about lovesickness. The artistic conception alone was much higher than Xie Chen's poem.
You miss your beloved who is far away, but I miss my late wife who has been dead for ten years. You still have the chance to meet her, but I don't. Whose longing is heavier? It is self-evident.
For the ladies from the aristocratic families in the hall, Xie Chen's poem only made their eyes red, but Pei Yunnian's poem made them burst into tears.
"good!"
Xiao Cheng spoke loudly, his eyes a little red. His wife had been dead for many years, and Pei Yun's poem aroused his longing for his deceased wife.
The eyes of many nobles in the hall changed when they looked at Pei Yun. No one had expected that Pei Yun had such high attainments in literature. How did he do that?
He can do business, make plans, fight wars, and even write poetry. He is a real all-rounder!
Where did this awesome person come from?
Was he really a bandit in the past?
These nobles used to look down on Pei Yun because of his status, but now this contempt is gone. People with knowledge are respected wherever they go.
What's more, with such knowledge, even the prince has praised him and he has a bright future.
"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"
Xie Chen was in a state of disorientation. His whole body was cold, as if he was in a world of ice and snow. His body was trembling slightly. At this moment, he could not hear any sounds around him. He felt as if he had been abandoned by the world.
He lost the first two questions, but he could still comfort himself, after all, business and Dingman were not his strong points. But losing in poetry, which was his proudest subject, was a huge blow.
No, there is no way I will lose. I am a talented man from Shudu, how could I lose to bandits!
He said loudly: "Pei Yun, can you write other poems? I can still write, can you?"
Xie Zhaoyun hurriedly grabbed Xie Chen and said, "Little brother, stop competing."
"Why not? I don't believe he is better than me." After saying that, he shook off Xie Zhaoyun's hand, stopped writing, and spoke directly.
"Lonely and lonely in the boudoir, counting the night watches every night."
"The candle's tears are endless, and the longing fills the painting screen."
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