After binding the investment system, I began to cultivate the empress

Everyone around was stunned for a moment.

Even Miss She, who was acting coquettishly and cutely, had her eyes fixed on him.

"it is good."

“…”

Instead, it was Xiao Li who was stunned.

He was just racking his brains, thinking of which poem from a predecessor he could plagiarize to show off.

When I saw this smile, I suddenly didn’t have to think about it anymore.

A poem came to my mind, of which I only remembered the content but not the author's name.

To participate in the poetry competition, one had to pay a prize of one or two taels of silver. After paying the money, a servant would bring pen and ink. After the guest wrote, the poem would be sent to Zhuangyuan Building for evaluation by scholars.

If a poem is selected, it will be posted.

Zhuangyuanlou is famous for its high standards. Even though there are many participants, it is considered good if there are three or two poems that can be performed in the end.

As it was Chuseok, the topic was naturally:

'moon.'

"Here comes the pen!"

Wu Chushu's chest almost protruded from his clothes, and he took out the silver with full confidence and style.

He prepared carefully for today!

Xiao Wu thinks he has good writing skills, although he hasn't written any new works recently.

But his master, Elder Zeng, is a cultured man!

It can be seen from the fact that Elder Zeng never puts down his book.

He copied this poem from his master. When his master wrote it, all the scholars and writers praised it crazily, saying that this poem is something that can only be found in heaven and rarely heard in the world!

This is Xiao Wu’s confidence!

"Is there any wine?"

"Sir, you only gave me one tael of silver. The lowest price for wine in our Zhuangyuanlou is three taels of silver per pot..."

"I'll add money!"

So Wu Chushu gulped down the wine, and when his face turned red, he "brewed" for a while before he began to write.

Judging from his unrestrained and uninhibited posture, it must be the work of the immortal poet.

"I heard that Elder Zeng is very talented in writing and is known as a poet."

"Luckily there's more than one prize, otherwise I might not have been able to grab it."

Student Xiao Li stepped forward and took the pen handed to him by the servant, smiling shyly.

It's plagiarism after all.

He was too embarrassed to publicize the plagiarized poem, and was secretly happy to win a prize thanks to his ancestors' literary talent.

"Every profession has its own specializations. Young Master Li cannot be proficient in everything."

Wu Chushu satisfied his addiction to being a wild poet, and a smile returned to his face.

Bai Jinghong and Cao Mu looked at each other and saw silence in each other's eyes.

Xiao Wu seems to really think that Elder Zeng is very talented in writing...

Have you forgotten that you killed six bandits and were praised as having wiped out the entire village?

at this time.

Li Mo also put it down and returned to his original place.

"What did you write?"

Ying Bing couldn't help but feel curious when she saw the servant carrying two pages of paper into Zhuangyuan Building.

He often comes up with some strange words and rhymes.

But I haven't seen any literary talent.

"Don't worry, bringing back a prize won't be a problem."

Li Mo frowned.

Ying Bing remembered it vaguely.

When Li Mo was a child, Uncle Li hired a teacher.

After only three days of teaching, the teacher rejected Xiao Li, saying that he could not teach this child.

The private school teacher came with dark circles under his eyes and a mustache, and his face was covered with Chinese characters...

"...I've been using this red string for a long time, and I'm pretty used to it."

......

In the Zhuangyuan Building.

The famous scholars and writers in the city gathered here, reading the poems sent from below and discussing with each other.

The person sitting in the first seat was actually Elder Zeng.

I have to say that our Elder Zeng has an excellent appearance. Now, sitting there in a Confucian robe, he really has the aura of a great and noble person.

He was looking at a book with a blue cover. Strangely, the book seemed to be quite large.

"Brother Zeng, what do you think of this song?"

“Not bad.”

"What about this one?"

“It’s a fitting question.”

Elder Zeng put the scroll away and stuffed it into his arms, his expression indifferent.

Suddenly, someone exclaimed:

"Are there poems of this level?"

"A masterpiece?"

"Tsk tsk, to be able to make Instructor Song look like this, it must be a work of great talent."

Everyone gathered around.

However, after Song Jiaoshi was surprised, his face turned unhappy:

"This poem is incoherent, lacks rhythm and rhythm, and the artistic conception is completely irrelevant."