The most romantic little emperor

Those who attended the poetry reading were all well-educated and talented people, and of course they heard the awesomeness of this poem!

The sparks of inspiration that jump between the lines and the profound artistic conception that transcends the mortal world all demonstrate Qin Hao's extraordinary talent and vision.

There was excitement flashing in the eyes of the talented men, as if they had met a long-lost confidant, and they fell into madness.

The beauties slightly opened their red lips and exclaimed in amazement. The admiration and respect radiating from the inside out added a bit of tenderness and charm to the night.

Dark as ink.

At this moment, Qin Hao's figure appeared taller and more upright. He was no longer the gentle and elegant Confucian scholar just now, but had transformed into a poet who transcended time and space. He used wine as ink and the sky as paper to express his own ambitions.

Everything around seemed to be moved, and had long been shocked by Qin Hao's indomitable momentum, which resounded throughout the world and became the perfect background for this personal feast.

"This person and this poem are unparalleled in the world! I am ashamed to be inferior to them!"

Zuo Wenxuan was trembling all over, his eyes revealing indescribable excitement and shock, and he kept chanting, each word resounding: "I was born with talents that will be useful, even if I lose all my wealth, I will get it back! Good poem! It is really a good poem!"

“It not only persuades people to be indifferent to money and have confidence in themselves, but also inspires the students present to actively participate in the world. What kind of confidence and wildness is this? It drives people crazy and makes them fall for it!”

"No, no, this has surpassed the category of a good poem. It is a masterpiece that will be remembered forever, a dazzling pearl in the poetry world! Even if we trace back five hundred years, we can't find a poem that can compare with "Song of the Wine"!"

Zuo Wenxuan shouted almost madly, as if he wanted to turn this shock and praise into the strongest language and imprint it in everyone's heart.

Inside the Wenlan Academy's painted boat, there was total silence; only Zuo Wenxuan's voice echoed in the air, sounding exceptionally loud.

Reality gave a hard slap in the face to those self-righteous scholars of Wenlan Academy.

At this moment, these people's cheeks were flushed, some lowered their heads in shame, and some widened their eyes in disbelief, staring at Qin Hao's figure, as if they had seen a ghost, dumbfounded, and unable to utter a word.

The previous contempt and disdain seemed so pale and powerless at this moment, as if they were swept away without a trace by a sudden gust of wind.

Instead, there was a deep shock at Qin Hao's talent and a deep reflection on his own shallow knowledge.

Above the sparkling lake, Xue Ling's graceful figure leaped lightly to the bow, like a fairy floating on the water. Her eyes were flashing with disbelief and deep curiosity, and as the light flowed, she revealed her endless yearning for the unknown.

Her voice was trembling with excitement as she asked repeatedly, "Who is this person? Who is he?"

"How can there be such a person in the capital? She is truly a genius! I must meet her!"

At the same time, the pleasure boats of Wenxin and Jingsi academies slowly approached. When the people on the boats heard this poem, they were amazed and excited, and they regretted not seeing Qin Hao, the talented poet, with their own eyes.

At this time, a man walked out of the Jingsi Academy's painted boat, his eyes locked on Qin Hao, his heart was filled with waves, and he muttered to himself: "Why is it him? Why is he here?"

"Hurry, drive the boat to where that person is. There is no delay." Pointing at the houseboat where Qin Hao was, he said impatiently.

A moment later, before the houseboat came to a complete stop, he couldn't wait to jump to the houseboat where Qin Hao was, and hurriedly wanted to kowtow and speak.

Before the pleasure boat had docked steadily, he could no longer hold back, and jumped up, landing lightly on the boat where Qin Hao was, bowing and wanting to worship. Before he could say anything, his emotions were already there.

Qin Hao didn't wait for him to speak, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. His tone was gentle but majestic: "So it's Mr. Wang. I didn't expect you to be a martial arts master?"

The person who came was none other than Wang Zhenqing, the number one calligrapher in Beijing. The two had met once before at an auction, so he naturally knew Qin Hao's identity.

As soon as these words were spoken, Wang Zhenqing's body shook slightly. He raised his head and looked at Qin Hao, with a hint of surprise in his eyes.

Qin Hao then signaled with his eyes, which clearly meant that he didn't want him to reveal his identity.

Wang Zhenqing understood what he meant and bowed to him, speaking in a gentle and courteous tone: "Mr. Qin, it's been a long time since we last met. How have you been? If you have any errands, I will do my best and be willing to serve you."

Qin Hao waved his hand nonchalantly and said with a faint smile: "Mr. Wang, you are too polite."

His words showed the modesty of a gentleman.

Afterwards, Wang Zhenqing turned his gaze to Luo Yang who was copying poems, only to see that his handwriting was crooked and unsightly.

So, he bowed to Luo Yang, and said with a little more humility: "My hero, can I copy the poem for you?"

Seeing that His Majesty was so polite to this person, Luo Yang's heart was slightly moved. He immediately looked at Qin Hao, and after His Majesty nodded in agreement, he immediately handed the brush respectfully to Wang Zhenqing.

Without the restraint of the brush, Luo Yang suddenly felt relieved. For him, picking up a pen to write is much more difficult than picking up a knife to kill someone.

"Who is that old man? How can he be so annoying? He butts in and disturbs our enjoyment of poetry. It really spoils the mood." A young scholar frowned and could not hide his resentment in his words. It was obvious that he was quite dissatisfied with the appearance of this uninvited guest.

An old man who had seen a lot of things heard this and immediately refuted in an unquestionable tone: "Humph, you have no knowledge. That man is not simple. He is the dean of Jingxin Academy, the first calligrapher in the capital, and Mr. Wang Zhenqing, who is known as the 'Sage of Calligraphy' of Daxia. I don't know who that young man is? He is so respected by the Sage of Calligraphy."

"Is it true or false? Isn't it said that Mr. Wang's calligraphy is worth a fortune and he rarely writes now?"

"Whether it's true or not, this poetry contest is becoming more and more interesting."

"..."

While everyone was still in shock, an old man in a gray robe suddenly appeared at the bow of the Wenlan Academy's pleasure boat, his eyes revealing a sense of indifference that was detached from the world.

He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, but like the morning bell and evening drum, clearly echoing in the ears of everyone present: "May I ask this handsome young man, which academy did you study at? Have you already passed the imperial examination?"

Qin Hao narrowed his eyes slightly, shook his head gently, and smiled faintly: "I am neither a senior student of the academy, nor have I passed the imperial examination, nor am I even a scholar. I have only studied for a few years. I wonder what advice you have for me, old gentleman?"