He has no talent for poetry at all, and his reputation as a little poet is just a fabricated persona.
Now if he is asked to compose a poem on the spur of the moment, his mind will be blank, how can he do it?
"Mr. Ming?" Everyone's eyes were focused on him, which made Song Ming feel panicked, as if he was naked in public.
His biggest secret is about to be exposed.
He was panicked and afraid.
"Mr. Ming?"
Zhang Xiangyang once again reminded that the topic of "Ode to Plum Blossoms" is very popular. Even if it is difficult to write a good piece, it should not be impossible, right?
But Song Ming just couldn't do it.
He stood there blankly, unable to utter a word.
"Well, let's wait a while. Writing poetry takes time." Zhang Xiangyang bought time for Song Ming.
"Okay, let's wait."
Song Chi said calmly, "He is the son of the Prime Minister after all. Even if he doesn't consider the monk's face, he should consider the Buddha's face."
This statement is full of irony.
Song Ming's face looked grim and his body and mind were trembling.
"If you can't do it, just admit defeat." Song Chi continued, "But I believe you can do it. After all, you are a little poet."
"you....."
Song Ming took a deep breath and tried his best to clear his mind of distractions.
I can do it, I can definitely do it.
I have seen and memorized countless poems about plum blossoms, and I am sure I can do it.
I am a young poet, the son of the prime minister, how can I not write a poem about plum blossoms?
Song Ming's expression changed from gloomy to bright and he muttered to himself.
I can definitely make it!
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