Rise of the Poor

Chapter 146: Great Voice of Ming Dynasty

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The bright moon shines every night, and the white clouds grind upon me every morning.

The Qinhuai River is bustling with traffic, and there are so many people living a life of luxury and ambition. Zhu Ping'an doesn't want to follow in their footsteps, so he shakes his head and refuses, and is about to leave.

"you… "

Hearing Zhu Ping'an's straightforward and unhesitating rejection, the originally angry 17 or 18-year-old girl suddenly had red eyes and tears flowed out.

"What do you know? You know nothing. Do you know what kind of life we live? We are not those famous people who can only be manipulated by our mothers. Sister Taohong was beaten half to death a few days ago."

"Do you know why most talented women are born in brothels? Those who are untalented like us would have been tortured to death early... Ordinary people are virtuous if they are untalented, and people like us who are untalented are not far from death..."

"A pretty person without talent is like an egg with a crack. Flies and mosquitoes will come and kill them early. An ugly person without talent is even more pathetic. An old man, a widower, a sick man, an ugly man, has no way to survive..."

“Only those who are talented and famous can be their own masters and have a good ending.”

"If Sister Taohong is freed, we will be in trouble. Those widows, widowers, sick men and ugly men have all paid money to mom. They can't escape the first day of the month, and they can't hide from the fifteenth day..."

"Why do you think I should have the courage to look for you? Who knows if you are really talented or just a show-off? Who knows if you are good or bad? We, other unknown scholars, are just looking for you as a lifeline..."

The seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl was full of resentment, spoke hysterically, and cried with tears streaming down her face.

"Sister, don't cry. Let's go back. If we go back too late, Mom will take the opportunity to get angry again..." The fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl hugged the seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl's arm with red eyes, comforting her while eager to leave this place.

If everyone in the world were like this young man, sisters like me wouldn't have to worry about their tragic fate.

Zhu Ping'an curled his lips and laughed at himself, thinking that he was always too soft-hearted.

"Did you bring pen and ink?" Zhu Ping'an sighed and asked.

Hearing this, the 17 or 18-year-old girl raised her head in disbelief, and a look of joy appeared on her tearful face; the girl with red eyes also looked at Zhu Ping'an with bright eyes.

Although I don’t know what level this young man is at, at least there is hope.

"Yes, yes, yes, we hid under the bridge." The seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl nodded hurriedly.

Well

She really came prepared. It seemed that even if there was no misunderstanding this morning, this girl would still find fault with her in various ways.

Actually, it’s not her fault, it’s just a way of survival.

"Let's go." Zhu Ping'an said lightly.

The two girls walked faster than Zhu Ping'an, holding up their skirts and jogging all the way to the bridge. When Zhu Ping'an walked over, they had already placed their writing brushes, inkstones, and paper on a huge rock.

"I was rude just now, please forgive me, sir." The seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl apologized repeatedly as she handed Zhu Ping'an the brush.

"Luckily for me, if it were someone else..." Zhu Ping'an said casually as he took the brush.

"It's because of you, sir, that I dare to do that. If it were someone else, I wouldn't dare to do that even if I had ten times the courage..." The seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl was very honest.

Bullying honest people

Zhu Ping'an was speechless.

"What kind of poem do you want to write, young master?" The red-eyed girl saw Zhu Ping'an was like swallowing a fly, so she hurriedly changed the subject.

"Who said we want to write poetry?" Zhu Ping'an shrugged.

Hearing this, the 17 or 18-year-old girl's face turned angry, her chest heaving, "You, are you kidding us?"

"I don't write poetry, but that doesn't mean I won't write anything else." Zhu Ping'an said calmly.

Hearing this, the anger on the face of the 17 or 18-year-old girl disappeared and she burst into laughter. "Then you should write lyrics. Lyrics are more suitable for us than poems. Our courtesan became famous with a single lyric."

"Who said we need to write lyrics?" Zhu Ping'an shrugged again.

Then, the 17 or 18-year-old girl burst into tears again, "Do you think it's fun to play tricks on us?!"

"Can you wait for me to finish speaking?" Zhu Ping'an said calmly, "I don't write poems or lyrics. I'll write the first one for you. Well, a song, a strange lyric, isn't it? Actually, it's not strange at all. Poems with music are called poems, and lyrics also have ci tunes. The ci tune is the melody of the lyrics. Lyrics were originally sung with music. You probably want poems and lyrics to be sung, right? Well, when you choose an Oiran, you probably need to sing on stage, or dance, or play a musical instrument, and let a group of bored literati rate them. The song I wrote is specifically for singing, and only for singing."

"Your name is Hu'er, right? Well, this song should be very suitable for you to sing. I guess those scholars will love to listen to it. In the future, there should be many scholars who will be happy to write poems for you."

Zhu Pingan held the brush in his hand, dipped it in ink, and began to write:

I am a fox who has been in love for a thousand years, a thousand years of love and a thousand years of loneliness; in the long night, do you know for whom I put on my red makeup, in the world of mortals, do you know for whom I comb my beautiful hair.

I am a fox that has been waiting for a thousand years, waiting helplessly for a thousand years. When love is deep, watch me dance for you with my beauty. When love hurts, listen to me sing to you.

Studying hard, we made a vow to each other, unforgettable

The road to success is long and arduous, and the paths we take are different.

Can you let me cry for love? I am still the white fox that loved you thousands of years ago. I will be your fox day and night for many years.

Although the two girls were not talented enough, they had practiced hard. Looking at the straightforward yet heart-touching words written by Zhu Ping'an, they opened their eyes wide in surprise. This was the first time they had come into contact with this kind of writing style. A sound came from the bottom of their hearts, as if their minds had opened up.

In a trance, it seemed that the cold window, the scholar, and the beautiful fox demon suddenly performed a tragic love story in front of him.

So sad

Very touching

When Zhu Ping'an finished writing, the two girls were already in tears.

"Well, it would be better if you learn a few more dance moves. You can dance while singing, or dance and sing at the same time. As for accompaniment music, you can play the guqin or guzheng to create some atmosphere. I don't understand that, so you can figure it out. As for the tune, it's about like this." Zhu Ping'an said, and tried to sing two sentences in the modern Chen Rui singing style. As a result, he found that he couldn't control it at all. What the hell is a man singing this? So he smiled bitterly and let it go.

“I am a fox that has been practicing for a thousand years…” The fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl only heard Zhu Ping’an sing two lines, then her eyes reddened and she sang the song “White Fox” following the tune that Zhu Ping’an had just sung. Basically, it was not much different from the original version, and the differences were even better than the original version.

"Oh, that's right, that's it." Zhu Ping'an nodded with satisfaction.

"Forget it, I'll give you another song." Zhu Pingan thought for a moment and wrote another one. How could his songs be missing in singing and talent shows? The selection of the most beautiful woman in the Ming Dynasty was almost the same as the modern talent shows.

"exist"

How many people are walking but stuck in the same place

How many people live as if they were dead

How many people are in love but seem to be separated

How many people are smiling but with tears in their eyes

Who knows where we should go

Who understands what life has become

Find an excuse to continue living

Or fly high and stay angry

How should I exist

After Zhu Ping'an finished writing, he hummed a few lines, but found that he still couldn't sing it. He had no musical talent.

"That's about it, you guys just sing as you like." Zhu Ping'an put down the brush and smiled at himself.

The two girls, especially the girl who was about seventeen or eighteen, blushed a little when they looked at Zhu Ping'an's new song "Existence", but their eyes were firm.

"Master, we two girls will definitely keep your teachings in mind."

Zhu Ping'an was surprised for a moment by the words of the 17 or 18-year-old girl. Well, these two girls didn't think that he wrote this song on purpose to educate them, right

Perhaps this song by Wang Feng always inspires people to make progress. Everyone has their own opinions. Never mind. Think whatever you want.

"Take care of yourself." Zhu Ping'an waved his hand casually and left.

"Sir, please walk slowly. May I ask what your name is?" the girl asked loudly behind him.

"My last name is Wang, my given name is Feng, and my courtesy name is Toutiao."

Zhu Ping'an paused slightly, then continued walking forward. Without even turning his head to ask, he replied with a sense of evil humor.

Then, the voices of two women came from behind...

"Thank you Mr. Wang Feng, your kindness is so great, I will never forget it." (To be continued)

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