Leng Qinghuan stepped forward gracefully and bowed in greeting.
Leng Qinghan said with a hint of disdain:
"Second sister, this is a school. The teacher said that in a school, there is no distinction between noble and lowly! You don't need to bow."
Leng Qinghuan sat down at the next table and said with a smile:
"Fourth Sister, the teacher did say that there is no distinction between noble and lowly in the school, but he did not tell you to be without regard to social status."
"you…"
Just then, Gu Fang, with one hand on the door frame and the other holding a ruler, glanced around and coughed heavily, instantly silencing the room.
Gu Fang was the second daughter of Grand Tutor Gu and the second aunt of Gu Nanshu. She was in charge of teaching intermediate students and was the most prestigious teacher among them.
Gu Fang walked to the desk and casually placed the ruler on the table: "Today is poetry class. All students, please compose a poem on the theme of flowers within two quarters of an hour."
After speaking, everyone picked up their pens and pondered. Leng Qinghan's lips curled slightly as she looked at Leng Qingning, a hint of smugness flashing in her eyes. "Hmph, a country bumpkin, I'll see how you write poetry."
Sensing the gaze from the side, Leng Qingning glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw the Fourth Princess staring at her with a mocking look in her eyes.
Leng Qingning thought to herself: Ha, you little punk, trying to make a fool of me? No way!
Writing poetry? Her mind contains five thousand years of Chinese poetry and literature; she can write any kind of poem or prose without hesitation. She only needs to transcribe it.
I pondered for a moment which poem would be appropriate to write.
Picking up the pen:
Flowers bloom and fade without regret, fate comes and goes like flowing water.
Flowers wither for the sake of blooming, and flowers fall for the sake of sorrow.
Flowers grieve because they weep; flowers weep because they shatter.
Flowers dance and fall, tears fall; flowers weep and petals fly.
For whom do the flowers bloom and wither? For whom do they grieve? (Note: Quoted from Li Qingzhao of the Song Dynasty, referring to withered flowers)
In less than fifteen minutes, Leng Qingning stood up and handed in her paper.
As he stepped off the stage, he deliberately raised an eyebrow at the Fourth Princess. The Fourth Princess's eyes widened instantly, her blood boiling:
This country bumpkin is absolutely despicable…
Time's up. Gu Fang tapped the table with a ruler, stood up, and collected the papers one by one.
After quickly skimming through the papers, I selected three, then picked up one to read carefully. My eyes gradually lit up, and a smile spread across my lips…
"Among today's poems, there are three good ones. The first one is by Miss Jiang Xue:"
Wisps of smoke rise from the peach grove, where a hundred flowers are nestled in the misty rain.
Spring arrives at my lodging in the peach grove, where the fragrant stream grasses attract butterflies.
This poem is cleverly conceived and is considered above average.
The second poem is by Li Cheng'an:
Fallen petals sway in the wind, while slanted leaves hang low, casting long shadows.
The moon goddess does not understand the distant clouds' meaning; her longing is vainly expressed through a golden hairpin.
The writing is delicate and the emotions are rich.
This is a fine piece of work.
"The last poem is by the young king: 'Withered Flowers.' The imagery is superb, truly rare. It describes flowers but doesn't specifically refer to them; the entire poem is about flowers, expressing a sense of loneliness, desolation, melancholy, and sorrow through the verses. Well written, truly well written!!!" He then read the poem aloud:
Flowers bloom and fade without regret, fate comes and goes like flowing water.
Flowers wither for the sake of blooming, and flowers fall for the sake of sorrow.
…
After Gu Fang finished reading, everyone exclaimed in surprise! What a wonderful poem!
Everyone turned to look at Leng Qingning, each with a different expression: some admiring, some shocked, some feeling inferior, some respectful, and some jealous.
I never expected the young king to be so talented!
Leng Qingning looked at Li Cheng'an, the line echoing in her mind: "The moon goddess does not understand the meaning of fleeting clouds, and longing is sent in vain as a golden hairpin!"
He thought to himself: "My poem 'Withered Flowers' is a poem by the talented Li Qingzhao, so it's no surprise that it was rated as excellent. But Li Cheng'an's poem is his own work, and he is quite talented as well."
In his poems, he wrote: "I have written my longing on paper, but I do not know how to tell you. I can only caress the hairpin you gave me again and again."
The words are filled with deep affection, expressing the longing and yearning in every line.
While Gu Fang was reciting the poem, no one else noticed, but Leng Qingning clearly saw Leng Qinghuan beside her stiffen slightly for a moment.
Does Li Cheng'an have a crush on his second sister? Interesting…
Seeing everyone flattering Leng Qingning, Leng Qinghan clenched her fists, let out a cold snort, and gritted her teeth:
"Teacher, Sixth Sister has been practicing at Kongmen Mountain for fifteen years. It is said that the hearts of practitioners are as calm as still water. Why is she able to write such sorrowful verses?"
Jiang Xue, looking puzzled, turned to Leng Qinghan and asked:
"What does Your Highness mean by this? Are you implying that His Highness the Young King plagiarized someone else's work?"
"I didn't mean that. I was just curious. Sixth Sister is so young and lives deep in the mountains. Why would she have such worries?"
Leng Qingning rolled her eyes inwardly, but remained calm on the surface:
"What would Fourth Princess like? Would you like me to write a few more poems to prove it?"
"Sixth Sister, you said it yourself. Your elder sister didn't force you to prove it."
Oh!
Leng Qingning stood up and respectfully bowed to Gu Fang:
"Teacher, since my elder sister suspects me, I am willing to compose another poem or essay and ask you to be my witness and give me any topic you like."
"Hmm." Gu Fang nodded, pondering for a moment:
"Let's keep the theme of flowers and write two poems expressing different feelings. You have 15 minutes."
Leng Qingning gently shook her head, her eyes bright and firm: "It won't take half an hour, a cup of tea will suffice. The student has already thought of the poem in mind."
Having said that, he dipped his brush in ink and picked it up.
…
The time it takes to drink a cup of tea has passed.
He remained calm and composed.
Gu Fang's hand holding the poem trembled slightly, her eyes grew brighter and brighter, her face was filled with ecstatic joy, and the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up.
Read it aloud:
Fallen flowers
I offered my heart to the bright moon, but the bright moon shone on the ditch.
The fallen petals yearn to drift with the flowing water, but the flowing water has no interest in the fallen petals.
The spring breeze kindly protects the flowers' beauty, yet the falling petals drift away on the flowing water, seemingly heading east.
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