The most romantic little emperor

As he finished speaking, everyone present fell silent, secretly calculating in their hearts how much money they should pay.

After all, the poems of the mysterious poet and the authentic works of Wang Zhenqing would be laughed at if the bid was too low.

However, before they could think it through, a voice rang out from the private room on the second floor, "One million taels."

Qin Yun was the first to react. He cursed and said in shock, "Fuck, is my uncle crazy? He spent one million taels to buy a painting. I've never seen him be so generous before."

Not only did he think so, everyone present was shocked, even the princes and ministers in the same private room were surprised. They all turned their eyes to Dong Sicheng, their eyes full of confusion and admiration.

Zhu Gui chuckled, with a hint of joking in his words: "Old Dong, you are usually so open-minded, why are you so abnormal today? Did you take the wrong medicine?"

Dong Sicheng smiled faintly and said solemnly: "Money and other things are just floating clouds outside of our body. We can't bring them with us when we are born, and we can't take them with us when we die. It's good enough to have enough for our needs."

"Your Majesty is leading the army to the north for the sake of the country. As your Majesty's subjects, we should do our best to relieve your worries."

"Moreover, the poems written by Your Majesty are full of pearls and emotions. They are all priceless treasures. How can their value be measured by money or other mundane things?"

As soon as these words were spoken, the box fell into silence for a moment. Everyone present was deeply moved by Dong Sicheng's feelings of transcending material desires and caring about the world.

Zhu Gui cupped his hands and said, "The Prime Minister is the Prime Minister, and his vision is profound. I, Zhu, admire him the most."

He immediately turned around, glanced at the ministers present, and said with a smile: "My colleagues, since the first masterpiece has fallen into the hands of the old boss, it is my turn for the second one. I tell you, don't snatch it from me, otherwise, I will make you anxious."

After hearing this, Li Zhen was somewhat unwilling. He said calmly, "Xiao Guizi, what did you just say? I didn't hear it clearly. Why don't you say it to me again?"

Upon hearing this, Zhu Gui's expression changed immediately, and he instantly put on a flattering attitude, laughing and saying, "Oh, Lord Zhongwu, look at what you said. I'm not afraid that someone will snatch it from you, so I'll reserve the second poem for you first."

Only then did Li Zhen nod with satisfaction.

At this moment, Zhu Yongkang at the auction table was a little confused. Looking at the reactions of the crowd, he didn't know whether he should drop the hammer.

Li Shishi, who was standing beside him, noticed Zhu Yongkang's hesitation and reminded him in a low voice: "Mr. Zhu, there are no other bidders now, it's time to make the final decision."

Zhu Yongkang finally woke up from his dream, quickly adjusted his mind, and announced loudly: "Everyone, no one has bid yet. If no one bids, then this item will be sold according to the rules."

When everyone heard this, they shook their heads. Anyone who dared to snatch things from the Prime Minister would be like an old man hanging himself - he must be tired of living.

For a moment, the entire auction hall returned to calm again, and the first poem was easily won by Dong Sicheng.

Afterwards, the remaining nine paintings were all bought by people in the same private room on the second floor. No matter how much they bid, the people below did not even have the courage to bid.

Qin Hao was also a little speechless, and he laughed and scolded softly: "These old guys, instead of staying at home, come here to make trouble. If they don't leave, the auction can't continue."

Before he could finish, Dong Sicheng and others walked out of the room as if they had telepathy.

Before leaving, he did not forget to be polite and said: "Everyone, I brought people here to join in the fun, I can't go back empty-handed."

"There are still many items to be auctioned. Please continue. If anyone can bid a sky-high price tonight, I will have someone send a plaque with the words 'Loyalty to the Emperor and Patriotism' to his house tomorrow as a reward."

As soon as these words were spoken, the party reached its climax and thunderous applause broke out at the scene.

With Dong Sicheng's departure, the auction returned to normal and soon the second round of bidding began, also with ten paintings and calligraphy works.

At this moment, Wang Zhenqing had retreated behind the scenes and the poem was read out by Li Shishi.

She opened her red lips slightly, and her voice was clear and melodious, like the song of an oriole, "The eleventh poem is called Untitled."

"The stars last night and the wind last night were on the west side of the painting building and on the east side of Guitang."

"I don't have the wings of a colorful phoenix, but I have a clear mind."

"Every other seat is warmed by Gou Chun wine, and a red wax lamp is shed on each seat."

"I listened to the drum and went to answer the official's call, walked around Malantai and turned around."

As soon as Li Shishi's graceful voice fell, a clear and pleasant voice instantly rang out, "I am willing to pay one thousand taels."

As soon as these words came out, there was a burst of laughter all around, and some people even mocked: "Little girl, you'd better stop trying to attract attention! This is not the place for you to come."

"Haha! One thousand taels? This is the best joke I've heard tonight. Girl, you should go home, take a shower and go to bed!"

"..."

Hearing the sarcasm from the crowd, the woman in the field became so angry that her cheeks turned red and tears welled up in her eyes, almost about to burst out.

She bit her lower lip to prevent the tears that were about to burst out and fall. Her persistence and unyielding spirit seemed particularly touching amid the clamor.

The man sitting next to her quickly comforted her in a gentle but somewhat helpless voice: "Junior sister, I know that this poem means a lot to you."

"But I am short of money and cannot buy it for you. I am really ashamed to say this."

The girl tried hard to hold back her tears, gave him a grateful look, and said softly, "Senior Brother Zuo, you don't need to blame yourself. I am very grateful to you for bringing me here. But, this poem was written for me by him, and I really like it."

Inside the box, Qin Hao's gaze inadvertently swept across the hall and fell on the couple. He couldn't help but frowned slightly, and muttered to himself: Why are the two of them here?

This unexpected encounter caused ripples in his thoughts.

The man was naturally Zuo Wenxuan, the Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, and the woman was Xu Jingshu, who fell in love with Qin Hao at first sight.

Soon, the price of this poem had been hyped up to more than 300,000, and it was still rising. The wealthy businessmen and young masters of prominent families in the audience were arguing over it with their faces flushed and their necks thick, and none of them would give in.

At this time, Qin Yun looked at the situation in the field and laughed, "Big Brother, Second Brother, those people are really stupid and rich. They are arguing over a poem. It's really interesting."

"I have to say, big brother, you are really amazing. This auction house is simply a treasure trove. When I return to my fiefdom, can you help me set up an auction house like this?"