I Use Idle Books To Become Saint

On the high jade platform, Bai Qingqing opened her mouth——

"The first condition of this essay competition is that four poems and essays need to be produced on the spot, and the four poems are related to each other, and they are all related to time."

As soon as this remark came out, the Confucian seat was in an uproar.

The historian Confucian who spoke before showed an angry face: "The intentions are sinister! This Spring and Autumn Holy Page is the most sensitive to artistic conceptions such as time, and can even be used to identify fallacies in history. Using time as the theme, the requirements for poetry, music and prose are more stringent! Not to mention doing four songs in a row on the spot, and they are related to each other. Even if Li Qinglian is resurrected, I am afraid of difficulties!"

Another great Confucian sitting next to him also nodded repeatedly: "The poetry of time is more related to persuasion, I wonder if there is a breakthrough?"

Another great Confucian twirled his beard: "It's time for a beauty to be old and twilight, it's time for nostalgia, it's time for leaves to fall, and it's not just about persuading students. If there is a single song, there may be a chance. I think this condition is the most difficult. The most important is four consecutive songs, the Prime Minister's couplet."

As soon as these words came out, everyone nodded.

At this moment, Bai Qingqing opened her mouth again: "The second condition——"

"The four poems, whether they are poetry, music or fu, must have a unified rhythm."

...

"Too much deceit!"

Kong Tianfang slapped the table again, his face full of anger.

"The previous request was so outrageous, and the rules must be unified. The contestants are all Confucian scholars, not great Confucian scholars! Isn't this bullying people?"

Tian Haiyi squinted his eyes. He shouldn't have watched the phantom with the head of the Confucius Institute. He knew that he had gone to the scene.

"Head of the hospital, it's useless to get angry again! You see, Wen Xiang hasn't spoken yet."

"He's wearing wool!" Kong Tianfang was still angry.

...

"Mr. Nan, what is the point of unifying the rhythm?"

Inside the Beifeng Building, someone asked again.

Nan Yuan sighed, and said: "Metrics are originally for poetry, but on this occasion, it is for poetry and music."

"The so-called unified meter means that if the first poem is a five-character regulated poem, then the remaining three capitals must be five-character regulated poems. If the first poem is seven-character verses, the rest must also be seven-character regulated poems."

"It's the same if you write lyrics. The first song uses a word card, and the remaining three songs must also use the same word card!"

"Anyone who often writes poetry will know that it is possible to write multiple poems with the same theme and different rhythms or lyrics, but if the rhythm or lyrics are unified, it is even more difficult to write four poems at the same time!"

"Then are we going to lose this fight?"

Nanyuan Xi shook his head suddenly: "No!"

As he spoke, he looked at the phantom.

"Because Wan Amber is on stage!"

...

At this time, on the high jade platform, Bai Qingqing smiled coquettishly: "You four, the topic is finished, and it will be up to you next. But my little girl reminds me, there is only one hour at most."

The suave young man, Wang Bugui, smiled carefreely, and cupped his hands towards Bai Qingqing: "Miss Bai would have to worry about coming up with such a title. Xiaoke is in a hurry, so I'll write one first. I wonder if it will occupy the holy page?"

Bai Qingqing nodded and said: "It's okay, even if only one song is approved by Shengye, it's a good thing even if you lose Wenlei. There is still a little girl from Shengye, so I won't delay other talented people from writing."

"So I'm relieved." Wang Bugui nodded, then cupped his hands at Chen Luo and the other three, "Let's go ahead!"

After finishing speaking, Wang Bugui picked up the writing brush prepared on the high platform, poured righteousness into the ink, and wrote on a holy page. At the same time, the magic circle projected the poems written by Wang Bugui all over Zhongjing.

"The east wind blows the greenery all over the pond, and a ray of spring shines on the temples."

"Wanduo can't see peaches and plums, so why bother to wear red makeup on the broken hairpin?"

"A wanderer who is not old in the green mountains, the bright moon has the heart to return to his hometown."

"Mo Xiaoshuai Wengchang sighed, how desolate things are about flowers in ancient times."

After writing a poem, Wang Bugui put down his brush.

...

"This...Wang Bugui's writing is about a woman living in a foreign land, old and decrepit, recalling her hometown." A great Confucianist commented, "The idea is good, and the description is good, especially the sentence 'why put red makeup on the broken hairpin'" , but after reading it through, the literary talent is slightly insufficient!"

"Nowadays that poetry is dying, it is rare to have such quick-witted poetic talent. I don't know whether the Spring and Autumn Holy Pages approve it or not!"

...

While the audience was commenting on the poem, the holy page of Spring and Autumn flickered for a moment, and the poems written just now disappeared word by word, and finally there was no trace of ink on the holy page.

"This..." Wang Bugui was stunned for a moment, and then he gave a wry smile, "My poems are not enough, and I can't get the approval of the holy page, that's all, let's practice for a few more years." After finishing speaking, Wang Bugui turned around and faced Wen Xiang and Ye Heng made a deep obeisance, "Wen Xiang, Your Majesty, if you don't return, you have great expectations. You can't write a poem today. I hereby apologize."

Ye Heng waved his hand: "You are still young, don't think too much, study hard and practice hard, you will become a master."

Wen Xiang also nodded: "Be brave after knowing your shame, go!"

Wang Bugui bowed to Chen Luo and the other three again: "I have lost, and the next step is up to you."

After finishing speaking, Wang Bugui's figure flickered and flashed out of the high platform

"I'm coming!" Seeing Wang Bugui leaving in defeat, Fang Xiujie, who seemed unable to wake up, suddenly opened his eyes, stepped forward, picked up the brush, and began to write.

"The wind and snow are boundless, and the roads of Rivers and Lakes are poor."

"Human feelings change at any time, ambitions last forever."

"White hair urges the face to grow old, and the green light shines on the pine."

"It's full of winter scenery, leaning against the east of the building alone."

As soon as this poem came out, the eyes of the great scholars in the audience lit up.

"This young man from the Fang family, well-clothed and well-fed, actually wrote such vicissitudes of life poems. On a snowy night, when he was a stranger, his feelings were indifferent, and his ambitions were unfulfilled. His white hair was thick, and even his shadow was a little loose with the passage of time. People are leaning on the balcony, watching the winter snow flying all over their eyes, how desolate..." A great Confucianist nodded.

"No and no!" Another great Confucian gave a different opinion, "This poem looks good at first glance, but if you taste it carefully, you will always feel a sense of itching! After all, it is a family member who is strong in writing new words. Say worry!"

Sure enough, the holy page of Spring and Autumn flashed with light again, and then the poem Fang Xiujie just wrote disappeared word by word!

Fang Xiujie was stunned for a moment, then a stern look flashed in his eyes, but he suppressed it again. He turned around, bowed in the direction of Wen Xiang and Ye Heng, and walked directly off the jade platform!

...

"This, this is too difficult!" In the Shengwen Square, Zheliu students discussed one after another, "There is no way for such poems to leave traces on the holy page, and it needs four consecutive poems!"

"Don't worry, don't worry, Senior Sister Tian is still here."

"Look, senior sister Tian moved."

...

On the high jade platform, Tian Xiangwan walked to the holy page, pondered for a moment, shook his head, turned around, and saluted Wen Xiang and Ye Heng.

"Your Majesty, Minister Wen, the students can only write one poem, and they must confess their crimes first."

After finishing speaking, Tian Xiangwan picked up a pen and wrote——

"A piece of spring sorrow waiting to be poured with wine. The boat shakes on the river, and the curtain moves upstairs. Huaniangdu and Yanniang Bridge, the wind is fluttering, and the rain is rustling."

"When will I go home to wash the guest robes? The silver character is Sheng tune, and the heart character is incense burning. Liu Guang is easy to throw people away, and the cherries are red, and the plantains are green."

After finishing the song "One Cut Plum", Tian Xiangwan threw the brush in his hand and walked down the jade platform.

Everyone in the audience stared at the holy page of Spring and Autumn, and the holy page of Spring and Autumn suddenly burst into light, but at this moment, the words on it did not disappear, but each one was brightly lit up, and a virtual image of a small boat sailing in the wind and rain appeared on it. film.

"Poems become visions, and poems passed down from generation to generation become success!"

Bai Qingqing smiled faintly, and said to Wenxiang: "Congratulations to Wenxiang, the human race has another poem handed down from generation to generation. The monster race dare not possess this article, so return it to Daxuan."

After finishing speaking, Bai Qingqing pointed to the holy page that said "Yi Jian Mei", and the holy page immediately rolled up and flew towards Wen Xiang.

Wen Xiang stretched out his hand, grabbed the flying scroll, and nodded.

Bai Qingqing waved again, and another blank Spring and Autumn Holy Page flew to the high jade platform.

At this moment, all eyes were on Chen Luo.

Bai Qingqing spoke softly and said, "Wan Anbo, you are the only one left now. The poems handed down from generation to generation must be recited or written in ink with awe-inspiring righteousness. If you are not a Confucian scholar, you might as well abstain."

Chen Luo shrugged; "Not now, but soon!"

When Bai Qingqing was puzzled, Chen Luo suddenly shouted——

"Xiao Ji!"

purple pen literature