Learn a magical skill every year, and start with Xiao Li Fei Dao

"Ahhhh, this is impossible."

"Oh my god, Xiao Ping'an's poem has been recognized by heaven and earth. The purple thunder from the sky and the golden lotus from the ground are the signs of a saint being born."

"Could it be that Xiao Ping'an has the talent to be a saint?"

"Now I believe that the previous "Nian Nu Jiao • Luoshui Huaigu" was really written by him."

Everyone shouted.

Those particularly good poems will be recognized by heaven and earth. You know, often only the famous sayings of saints can be recognized by heaven and earth when they are created. Of course, there are exceptions.

When a person's poems are so good that even heaven is jealous and respectful.

Even an ordinary person will have such a vision.

As long as the poem is good enough.

However, such examples can be counted on ten fingers from ancient times to the present.

I'm fucking crazy.

What's going on? ? ? ?

Xiao Ping'an was startled by the sudden thunder and the strange phenomena around him.

However.

It seems that there is no harm to me.

Instead, I feel my body cool and comfortable.

After knowing that it is okay.

Just continue.

This is about dignity and a bet of 100,000 gold.

I must not lose.

The Luo River is long and leisurely.

A young man in white clothes, looking at the waves, under the attention of the crowd.

He whispered softly:

"I don't know who the river moon is waiting for, but I see the Yangtze River sending the flowing water."

"A piece of white cloud goes away slowly, and I am overwhelmed with sorrow on the Qingfengpu."

Boom!

The golden light in the sky is even more dazzling.

From the stream, it converges into a golden river.

Everyone is numb.

Damn, do you have to be so awesome?

Especially Zhang Jian, he can't believe it. Three days ago, this kid was someone he could bully at will. We agreed to be trash together, and you took off? ? ?

You betrayed the people.

Newborn!! !

"Whose boat is this tonight? Where is the moonlit tower where I miss you?"

"The moon on the tower is so bright, it should shine on the mirror of the departed."

"It can't be rolled up in the jade curtain, it keeps brushing against the laundry anvil."

Xiao Ping'an said.

At the same time.

Countless golden lotuses emerged from the ground again.

A stream of purple air fell from Xiao Ping'an's head.

The golden light gathered on his head.

The area became larger and larger, almost becoming a sea.

"At this moment, we can see each other but cannot hear each other. I wish to follow the moonlight to shine on you."

"Wild geese fly long but the light does not pass by, while fish and dragons dive and leap in the water to form words."

"Last night, I dreamed of falling flowers in the idle pond. It's a pity that I didn't return home in the middle of spring."

"The river flows and spring is about to end. The moon falls in the river pond and sets in the west again."

"Ahhh, so long, so wonderful."

"Oh my God, is this a poem that a human can write?"

"Fuck, I don't know what to say except awesome, awesome, awesome?"

"Is this still the Xiao Ping'an I know?"

"Could it be that Xiao Ping'an was possessed by a saint, and this saint is also a poet saint????"

Everyone went crazy and didn't know what to say. They spoke without thinking.

"The slanting moon is hidden in the sea fog, and there are endless roads from Jieshi to Xiaoxiang."

"I don't know how many people return by moonlight, and the falling moon shakes the emotions of the trees on the river."

The last sentence came out, and the whole poem ended.

The whole Luoshui, hundreds of people, were stunned.

Like a statue.

Stupidly looking at Xiao Pingan.

Even the initiator of this poetry meeting, the seventh princess Zhang Xue, who was the most talented and famous in Beijing, was no exception.

Stupidly looking at the young man in white standing by the Luoshui River.

She had only seen this scene in her dreams...

This poem can't be called a poem at all.

Instead, it should be preceded by the word "天".

It's called a heavenly poem.

This is no longer a poem that can appear in the human world. I'm afraid that only the legendary heaven can produce such a poem.

Appearing in the human world at this moment.

I'm afraid it's: I strayed into the mortal world.

...

The far west.

The Gobi Desert.

The sky is full of yellow sand.

A figure like an old farmer is walking forward.

Thousands of miles away.

It seems to have sensed something.

Towards the direction of Daqian.

A slight glance back!!!

In the black pupils, countless spring flowers, autumn moons, and human life appeared.

…

Daqian.

Luming Academy.

Nine-story attic.

An old man in a Confucian robe, tall, thin, and full of spirituality, was leaning on a pile of books to rest.

Suddenly, thunder was heard.

He heard someone whispering in his ear: "Who first saw the moon by the river? When did the river moon first shine on people?

Life has been endless from generation to generation, and the river moon looks the same every year.

"I don't know who the river moon is waiting for, but I see the Yangtze River sending flowing water."

"A piece of white cloud goes away slowly, and I am overwhelmed with sorrow on the green maple shore."

…

He woke up suddenly.Eyes widened.

"This is..."

After a long time.

The slender old man sighed: "A single poem suppresses Daqian."

At the same time.

...

Daqian, Wu Zhou, Zhao Song, Da Qi, Chuyun, Huo Luo, Lan Zhao and other countries.

The tall statues in the Saint Temple.

All trembled.

Countless strong men were puzzled, what happened?

Why did the saint statue shake?

Could it be that a saint was born?

...

Daqi.

The Imperial Palace.

The Chufeng Palace.

A beautiful woman showed a thoughtful look: "Hey, there are actually peerless poems reflecting the world, which were obviously not in the previous life... It's really strange... Could there be someone like me, reborn and returned?"

...

Luoshui.

A middle-aged scholar looked at the inky purple clouds in the sky, the thunder that never faded, and the golden lotus that was becoming more and more brilliant, and said in confusion: "It's strange, why doesn't this strange phenomenon disappear?"

Logically speaking, even if the strange phenomenon appears, it should disappear as the poem ends.

Just then.

There was a tremor in the sky.

The phantoms of statues appeared one by one.

"Ah. What is this?"

Someone exclaimed.

The seventh princess Zhang Xue said: "This is, the sages."

Sure enough, the real bodies of the statues appeared one by one.

There were statues of saints, some kind, some serious, some peaceful...

At this moment, they smiled: "Good poem."

"Good poem."

"Good poem."

"Ah, Zhuangzi, Confucius, Qizi, Yizi, Zengzi... This is the recognition of all the philosophers."

"In other words, Xiao Ping'an's poem has been recognized by all the saints?"

"Wow, this is the first time I have seen someone's poem recognized by so many saints at the same time."

"Cao, this is something that has not happened for a thousand years!"

"Could it be that Xiao Ping'an really has the appearance of a saint? ? ? ??"

Just then.

Blue clouds flickered in the sky.

An old man in a green robe appeared, holding a book in his hand, with a dignified appearance, calm and composed, with three points of cynicism, five points of righteousness, and two points of indifference on his face.

When this person appeared.

The seventh princess was the first to react.

He knelt down directly: "Greetings, Master."

Everyone reacted.

All knelt down.

"Greetings, Master."

This is not an ordinary person.

He is the Master of Daqian, the backbone of Daqian, the patron saint of Daqian.

He is a half-saint.

He can be said to be the strongest person in the world.

Who will be the emperor of Daqian is a matter of his words.

The only person in the world who can deserve the word "Master" is probably the old man in front of him.

Except him, everyone else can only be called three words.

For example, the sixth-rank scholar present, Master Cen.

Zhang Jian saw that only Xiao Ping'an did not kneel in the audience. It seemed that he had found an opportunity. His eyes rolled and he immediately spoke up and shouted: "Xiao Ping'an, you are so bold. You dare not kneel down to pay respects when you see the Master. Don't think that you can ignore the Master just because you wrote a good poem."