Empress, don't make trouble, I'm really a gentleman

Ye Lingyun waited for this moment for a long time, but he didn't step forward immediately.

As the number one scholar in the new subject, he is very knowledgeable in poetry, so he should be the finale, otherwise, once his poems come out, who else will dare to speak up?
He took a few deep breaths, picked up the wine glass in front of him, and drank the wine in one gulp, using the spicy and fragrant taste to suppress the beating and hot nerves.

Li Zhonglian waved her hand, and the wooden case that had been removed before was brought up again.

Only this time, he didn't take out the pen he usually used to write.

"Haha, the old man is not talented, so come here to throw bricks and attract jade."

Among the guests, a civil servant smiled brightly, his face was reddish, he stepped forward and cupped his hands.

With a smile on her face, Li Zhonglian stretched out a flat palm, facing the official.

"Please."

Compared with calligraphy and poetry, there is no doubt that it can better reflect the strength of a Confucian scholar.

Wen Chen dared not say anything, walked beside the wooden case, and wrote poems with a pen.

Generally speaking, there is a link of composing poems and lyrics on this kind of banquet, and most of the older generation will not join in the fun, they will leave the opportunity to talented young people.

At the banquet of Confucian and Taoist leaders like Li Zhonglian, writing an astonishing poem will be of great help to the spread of his own fame and future prospects.

Therefore, most Confucian scholars will rack their brains before participating in the banquet, write a satisfactory work in advance, and recite it, so that they can become a blockbuster at the banquet.

This official is of a good standard. When a poem is written, it also arouses a lot of righteousness. When he recites it, it wins applause.

"Good! Great poem!"

Especially a few peers who had a good relationship with him shook their heads and applauded extremely enthusiastically.

Several people took turns to present their painstakingly written poems in front of Li Zhonglian.

I have to say that these people are still a bit level, and there is nothing wrong with their poems.

There were more than a dozen people in a row, and the juniors on the field were almost finished, only a few rude generals and Ye Lingyun were left on the opposite side.

Li Zhonglian looked gently at Ye Lingyun who was calm, as if he didn't pay attention to all this.

"Nephew Ling Yun, why don't you write a poem to let everyone see the No.1 demeanor of the younger generation?"

His words successfully made everyone focus on Ye Lingyun.

The latter stood up and arched his hands pretending to be humble.

"The master is too famous."

Li Zhonglian smiled, but did not speak.

Ye Lingyun stayed out of the stage deliberately, just waiting for himself to call him, so as to maximize the sense of anticipation. How could Li Zhonglian not understand this kind of careful thinking?
Ye Lingyun paced, and slowly came to the wooden case.

He stretched out his hand to grab the pen holder, then put it down suddenly, and looked towards Ji Wuchen with a smile.

Ji Wuchen was drawing circles on the table boredly.

For him, this group of literati, writing poems and composing lyrics, is really a bit boring.

Listen to sleepy.

Ye Lingyun looked at him, a trace of deep-seated disdain and hatred flashed in his eyes.

"General Tiance, I wonder if you want to inscribe a poem? You haven't started writing yet, Xiaosheng is afraid and dare not write."

When Ji Wuchen heard someone calling him, he raised his head and looked at Ye Lingyun with a slight frown.

This guy really doesn't have a long memory, I don't even bother to argue with him, why is he still talking so much?

"Where do you talk so much nonsense, whether you like to write or not, you have to call me first when you do anything, I am your father, right? Silly, you have to ask me if you are shitting, if I don't call you first Do you have to hold back?"

Ye Lingyun's smile froze on his face, and he felt an uncontrollable anger burning in his chest.

Disgraceful!This Ji Wuchen is unbearably vulgar, talking to him is simply an insult to gentleness!

Not only him, but even Nangong Jing, who always helped Ji Wuchen speak, coughed twice in embarrassment.

Everyone is still eating, you take a fart, a shit...

"Pfft~"

It was Jing'er, who couldn't help laughing out loud when she heard the words.

"Your Majesty, Ji Wuchen is so interesting. Look at Ye Lingyun, his face is turning green."

Nangong Jingmei gave her a helpless look, but didn't reply.

Jing'er stuck out her tongue embarrassingly, not daring to say any more, and obediently stood beside the Empress.

Ye Lingyun suppressed the anger in his heart and turned his head to look aside.

"It seems that the general doesn't want to show himself, so let Xiaosheng show his shame."

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down, and his proud expression returned to his face.

Ji Wuchen's insults, in his opinion, were just the last struggle for reason.

If he could write any good poems, he would have already stepped forward and slapped himself in the face with his strength. Why did he say such vulgar words?
Yes, he was afraid of himself, he didn't dare to make a move, he wanted to provoke me.

Haha, Ji Wuchen, just pretend, I won't let you get what you want!

Ye Lingyun picked up the pen and wrote down slowly on the paper.

Strands of righteousness rose up silently, turning into spots of light, enveloping him, making this man look extraordinarily out of the ordinary.

The corners of his mouth drew an inconceivable arc, and Ye Lingyun wrote every word with confidence.

until the last stroke is done.

Ji Wuchen, look after me!
In an instant, countless awe-inspiring righteousness suddenly condensed, hovering in the sky, and phantoms of strange flowers emerged out of thin air.

Brilliant brushwork, this is his handwriting recognized by Confucianism and Taoism.

Everyone knew that Ye Lingyun had a good handwriting, so no one was surprised.

After the approval of the calligraphy, it is the resonance of the poem itself with Confucianism and Taoism.

After Confucians compose poems, they generally don't write them down immediately, but just recite them silently.

Because the awe-inspiring righteousness evoked by poetry can only reach its peak when it first appears in the world.

Countless awe-inspiring dances were like a storm, and Ye Lingyun raised his head slightly, wanting to read out his masterpiece.

However, an ancient and ethereal and illusory sigh suddenly came from the air, and immediately after that, the piece of rice paper floated out of thin air.

Ye Lingyun was taken aback for a moment, then became ecstatic.

The ancient and vicissitudes of life sound like a bell, majestic and vast, lingering in everyone's ears, slowly reading this poem.

"Sound from the void! This is sound from the void!"

Someone exclaimed.

"Ye Lingyun is truly a genius! He deserves to be the number one scholar in the new discipline! After so many years, finally there is a new generation who can create poems and prose that make sound out of nothing!"

"Haha! This kid Ye Lingyun is probably just a hair away from becoming a great Confucian! I guarantee that the great Confucianism he has achieved is absolutely extraordinary, and it is not an exaggeration to say that he has reached the sky in one step!"

Sounds of admiration and astonishment were heard endlessly. Ye Lingyun held his head high and felt the awe-inspiring righteousness in his body resonating with the heavens and the earth. The previous depression in his heart had long since disappeared.

The void becomes sound, and the heavens and the earth recite it for you. What kind of achievement is this? !
There were no more than ten people present, including the older generation, who could do this.

For a moment, he just wanted to laugh at the sky.

"After Ye Lingyun picked up the pen, who else would dare to write poetry?"

An old man took a deep look at the vigorous Ye Lingyun and sighed slightly.