Huang Jin, who came to pass the note, was not surprised at all that Yuan Wei finished it in one stroke. Yuan Wei has always been quick-witted. In the past, the emperor sometimes sent a piece of imperial poem in the middle of the night, and Yuan Wei always finished it immediately, which was very much liked by the emperor.
Seeing that Yuan Wei had finished the work in one stroke, Huang Jin showed a look of satisfaction on his face, and then walked over to admire Yuan Wei's masterpiece.
The characters are vigorous and powerful, and the calligraphy is very exquisite. The writing is also good, and the poems are also top-notch, which can be called excellent, but it is good, the calligraphy can be called a great achievement, the writing can be applauded, but the appetite is not very impetuous, which is a pity.
"Lord Yuan is thoughtful." Huang Jin nodded to Yuan Wei without showing any expression.
After receiving Huang Jin's praise, Yuan Wei's face became even more proud, and his chin was raised more than 40 degrees...
After Yuan Wei finished writing, others also began to write. The next one to finish was Li Chunfang. Like Yuan Wei, Li Chunfang also often wrote Qingci for Emperor Jiajing. During his time in the Hanlin Academy, his poetry skills improved:
Fresh bamboo shoots and shad from the outskirts of Beijing are cooked in the early March spring breeze.
Only water shield and sea bass are edible, and even gods and immortals come back to eat fish.
Compared with Yuan Wei's poem, Huang Jin's expression was slightly richer when he finished reading Li Chunfang's poem, but he still felt a little regretful. Although this poem also has a bit of rice flavor, which makes people slightly interested in fish, it is just a little bit, and it still cannot whet people's appetite. What a pity.
"Lord Li is thoughtful." Huang Jin nodded, but his emotions could not be seen.
After Li Chunfang finished writing the poem, others also finished writing a poem one after another. Zhang Juzheng and Zhang Siwei also wrote a poem each.
Zhang Juzheng's poems are also absolutely top-notch:
The Dragon King knows that fish is delicious, and the mountain god knows that bamboo shoots are fragrant.
Sweet wine in a white jade cup tastes even better when you’re half drunk.
Zhang Siwei did not disappoint his literary talent and also wrote an excellent work following Zhang Juzheng.
Most of the Hanlin scholars present had already written a good piece of work. The only one who hadn't started writing was Zhu Ping'an. Zhu Ping'an was a top scholar, but he hadn't started writing yet. Everyone turned their attention to him.
Could it be that the top scholar was confused when he received the question from the emperor for the first time
Huang Jin also set his sights on Zhu Ping'an at this moment. If there was anyone he had high hopes for this time, it was Zhu Ping'an. It was the poem Zhu Ping'an wrote at the wine table last night that made His Majesty eat two more bowls of rice.
In fact, when Zhu Ping'an saw the little note from Emperor Jiajing, his first reaction was to the food poems written by those foodies in modern times. The joke he wrote last night was one of the food poems he had seen online. When he saw these poems in modern times, his appetite was so great that he even skipped the Lao Gan Ma when eating instant noodles... ... It was even more appetizing than when he watched A Bite of China.
But the only problem is, I don’t know if it’s acceptable in this day and age, and this is for the most powerful person in the world to see.
"Why hasn't the number one scholar started writing yet?" Huang Jin asked.
"May I ask Mr. Huang, are there any restrictions on poetry writing?" Zhu Ping'an did not answer, but bowed and asked Huang Jin a question.
"Nothing special, just to whet your appetite." Huang Jin shook his head, and then added meaningfully: "No need to worry too much, just write whatever you want."
There is something behind this, but I like it. Zhu Pingan nodded slightly and had an idea. If he wrote according to the conventional way, his literary talent would not be as good as Yuan Wei, Li Chunfang, Zhang Juzheng and others, and to be honest, he really didn't have much appetite to read their poems.
Think about it, Emperor Jiajing had a poor appetite and couldn't eat, so the purpose was to stimulate his appetite. As for the style, anyway, I asked, and Huang Jin said there was none; in addition, even if the style was not good, it would at most cause a few laughs, and it could make Emperor Jiajing laugh twice. It seems not bad.
face
Well, that thing is worth a few dollars, and it’s quite tiring to wear.
After Zhu Pingan thought it through, he raised the corners of his lips. He picked up the brush with a joking feeling and dipped it into the inkstone.
For a moment, everyone focused their attention on the tip of Zhu Ping'an's pen, which was dripping with thick ink.
You are handsome when you lift the pen, and steady when you put it down. But what does it mean when you just stop on the paper and don't move? Everyone watched Zhu Ping'an pick up the pen, dip it in ink, and put it down, waiting to see the poem he wrote. But at this critical moment, Zhu Ping'an put the pen down on the paper and nothing happened. He didn't move at all, as if he had stalled.
What? Are you confused because of nervousness
Unable to handle the important task and only having good looks, Yuan Wei looked at Zhu Ping'an with even stronger disdain.
"Ahem, sorry to bother you, Mr. Huang. I would like to ask you what kind of food the imperial kitchen wants to prepare for His Majesty today. I am afraid that it will disrupt His Majesty's dietary arrangements."
Zhu Ping'an's voice rang out about half a second after the pen was put down.
Upon hearing this, Zhang Juzheng couldn't help but look at Zhu Ping'an twice more. He was really thoughtful. Why didn't he think of this point that Zhu Ping'an had considered!
Everyone else seemed to feel the same way.
"Your Majesty has been fasting and eating vegetarian food for a long time. The Imperial Kitchen wants to make more meat to replenish His Majesty's blood and qi."
Huang Jin looked at Zhu Ping'an with admiration and was very satisfied with his attentiveness. He was able to put himself in the emperor's shoes instead of just having the mentality of completing the task. This kind of minister is the minister that His Majesty appreciates.
Oh, eat more meat.
Zhu Pingan nodded, and then the brush in his hand began to dance with dragons and phoenixes, without adding any punctuation, and completed it in one go:
No bamboo makes people vulgar, no meat makes people thin.
Not too bad and not too lean, braised pork with bamboo shoots.
At first, everyone was shocked by Zhu Ping'an's superb calligraphy. Zhu Ping'an's calligraphy can be said to be the best in the Hanlin Academy. But when Zhu Ping'an finished writing the poem, everyone was stunned. Uh, is this a doggerel? But it is a bit more elegant than a doggerel. Zhu Ping'an's doggerel used Su Shi's poem: I would rather eat without meat than live without bamboo. No meat makes people thin, no bamboo makes people vulgar. He picked two lines from Su Shi's poem, but perfected it and added it into a poem.
Regardless of the literary talent, reading this poem does make one have a strong urge to try this delicious and not-too-lean braised pork with bamboo shoots. It's a very strong urge.
However, in terms of literary talent, Zhu Ping'an's poem cannot be compared with Yuan Wei, Li Chunfang and others. Can this be called a poem? ! After thinking for so long, he wrote such a poem... Yuan Wei and several others looked at Zhu Ping'an with disdain.
"Actually, I love eating. Sometimes when I read ancient poems, I can't help but think of food, so I try to make some interesting sentences. It's almost like this." Zhu Pingan smiled a little embarrassedly, and then picked up the pen to write for everyone to see:
My old friend left the Yellow Crane Tower and traveled thousands of miles to buy fish heads!
You ask me when I will return, but I have no idea. I order braised eggplant and stewed chicken.
Once you have seen the sea, all other waters are but puddles. Fish-flavored shredded pork with chicken legs.
It is hard to meet and hard to part. Don’t add salt when steaming crabs.
After Zhu Pingan finished writing these sentences, there was an uproar around him, accompanied by whispers of nonsense and whatnot. If Zhu Pingan's poem at the beginning could be called a poem, then the one written later could not be described as a poem at all. Calling it a doggerel was a compliment.
You ask me when I will return, but I have no idea. Braised eggplant and braised chicken... What are these? (To be continued.)