But under Mu Lige's slanted eyebrows, a pair of eyes as bright as stars were shining. After a little thought, he rolled up his sleeves with his left hand, held a wolf-hair brush in his right hand, and wrote the last line of the poem: The sand of the passerby floats and sinks on the vast ocean.
Seeing that several brothers had written amazing poems, Yu Xiaotian clasped his hands together and sighed, "Amitabha!"
"The evening mist is heavy and the sunset is beautiful, the water and sky are one color, rolling like flowers. The moon rises and sets, surrounding autumn and summer, and the sea is full of floating sand."
"Good! Good! Good!"
"Wonderful!"
Feng Lingyan took the poems written by her husbands and praised them three times.
Mu Lige's cursive calligraphy is rich, powerful, vigorous, and unrestrained, a visual feast. Even more remarkable is that his verses are the finishing touches, directly elevating the artistic conception of the entire poem to a higher level.
"Talented people emerge in every generation, and the waves behind push forward the waves ahead. Li Ge, you... are a man with great ambitions and a broad mind. You will surely have a bright future in the future..."
Si Chengfeng's poems were enough to shock Feng Lingyan. He never expected that his daughter's doctor was even better. Both his handwriting and poems were stunning.
"Dad, you're too kind. Your calligraphy is like flying phoenixes, and your brushstrokes are vigorous, which is truly magnificent!" Mu Lige said modestly.
…
"Dad, what are you doing? Why is it so noisy?"
At four quarters past the hour of You, Hua Qingcheng, who had spent the day in the fields exchanging experiences in growing rice, vegetables, sweet potatoes, potatoes and other crops with the villagers, returned to Feng Lingyan's residence and saw that all her wives had gathered in Feng Lingyan's room.
The sight of a handsome father and five handsome and distinguished husbands in the same frame was simply dazzling. However, when Hua Qingcheng saw them discussing poetry and calligraphy, she felt that she had come at the wrong time and silently withdrew the foot that had already stepped into the room.
"Um...you guys go ahead and do your work, I..."
Seeing that the situation was not good, Hua Qingcheng was about to escape, but was stopped by Feng Lingyan.
"Qingcheng, you've arrived just in time. Dad just saw the calligraphy and poetry written by your husbands, and they're all quite excellent. You grew up in a family of scholars, so your handwriting must be quite good too. Come quickly, write a few words for Dad to see!"
Looking at her daughter whose clothes were covered in dust and whose face was covered in mud, Feng Lingyan opened her bright eyes with a look of anticipation.
"Well... Dad, it's getting late, it's time for dinner. How about... another day?" Hua Qingcheng said embarrassedly.
Having a father who is a world-famous genius and five talented husbands is a great honor, but the pressure is also huge...
“Cough cough cough…”
Looking at his slightly embarrassed little wife, Mu Lige tried hard to suppress his smile when he thought of the hard-to-describe words she had written before.
"Yes, Qingqing, since Dad is so interested, why don't you write a few words for him to see and let him give you some advice?" The mischievous Mu Lige said seriously.
"Brother Li, you..."
Hua Qingcheng was dumbfounded.
The Mu Lige in front of me must have been replaced by someone, right?
Is this bad guy who is waiting impatiently to see her make a fool of herself still her gentle, considerate and understanding doctor?
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