Similar situations most often occur not in military camps, but in prisons, where large numbers of prisoners are locked in small cells. Some prisoners often go crazy, causing others to become emotionally agitated, leading some prisoners to yell and even self-harm, creating "prison howls."
After every camp cry, all the soldiers would be mentally traumatized and would not be able to go back to the battlefield without three to five months of recuperation.
Zhang Qingfeng sent a letter again.
"They must have been prepared in advance. You and I cannot enter those military camps. If we make any move, they will cause a camp riot in advance, and finally frame us for the camp riot! Even if we speak eloquently, I am afraid that before we can finish the first word, Marquis Lumen will use the power of the Holy Temple to suppress us! Now, the highest official in Zhucheng is Marquis Lumen, not you, Marquis Zhujiang!"
Fang Yun showed a bitter smile. He didn't expect that he already had a series of pressures, and now he had to bear the additional pressure of the entire army roaring.
Fang Yun knew very well in his heart that once the army camp roared, his journey to the top of the mountain of books would come to a broken end!
"well… "
The sigh before was Zhang Longxiang's sigh, and at this moment, it was Fang Yun's sigh.
Fang Yun looked up at the sky and suddenly thought of his distant relatives and friends. Familiar yet unfamiliar faces appeared in his mind.
Fang Yun was silent, realizing that he had been under too much pressure these days and was so engrossed in playing the role of Zhang Longxiang that he had been affected by his experiences.
"As expected of the Ninth Mountain..."
Fang Yun recalled his experience of entering the Confucian literary world, which was extremely chaotic and completely out of his control.
"Is Zhang Longxiang's increasing number of white hairs due to the Yi Zhuan or me?"
Fang Yun felt deeply tired.
"I have been through so much hardship since I started my career, and the war has been going on for weeks. The mountains and rivers are broken like catkins blown by the wind, and my life is up and down like duckweed in the rain. I am afraid at Huangfeng Beach, and I feel lonely in the ocean... I am not talking about Wen Tianxiang, nor Zhang Longxiang, I am talking about our luck!"
Fang Yun slowly walked back to the table, sat on the chair, held the ink stick in his hand, and slowly ground the ink.
Soon, Fang Yun lifted up his loose right sleeve with his left hand, held the pen in his right hand and reached for the inkstone, dipping it in the black ink.
"Do you want to finish writing "Crossing the Zero Ding Ocean"?"
Fang Yun thought to himself and wrote involuntarily.
After a hard time, the war has been going on for weeks. The mountains and rivers are broken and the wind blows the catkins, and my life is ups and downs in the rain...
Looking at the seven words "My life is like the ups and downs of a duckweed in the rain", Fang Yun stopped writing, crumpled the paper into a ball, threw it on the ground, and then started writing again with a look of melancholy.
Spring hope.
The country is destroyed but the mountains and rivers remain, the city is overgrown with grass in spring.
Fang Yun recalled standing on the top of the city wall and looking south a few days ago. The territories belonging to the State of Chu had been destroyed, but the mountains, rivers and streams were still there. In this spring day, wild grass grew on the old land.
The flowers shed tears when they feel sad, and the birds are frightened when they are separated.
I am extremely sad at this moment. Even if I see flowers blooming, I can't help but shed tears because I am separated from my family and friends. Even if I hear the cheerful singing of birds, I will feel heartbroken.
The war has been going on for three months, and a letter from home is worth ten thousand pieces of gold.
When two armies are at war, letters sent between the battlefield and home are more precious than ten thousand taels of gold, because only loved ones can soothe one's sorrow.
My white hair is getting shorter and shorter, and I can hardly hold a hairpin.
Melancholy and worry can only make people scratch their heads, causing their hair to become thinner and thinner, and even unable to be tied up with a hairpin. Aging like this is probably the most powerless and lonely moment in one's life.
Once the poem is completed, its fame will spread thousands of miles away!
Everyone within a thousand miles could hear it as if Zhang Longxiang was reciting the poem "Spring Thoughts" in a very grand voice.
The country is destroyed but the mountains and rivers remain, the city is overgrown with grass in spring.
The flowers shed tears when they feel sad, and the birds are frightened when they are separated.
The war has been going on for three months, and a letter from home is worth ten thousand pieces of gold.
My white hair is getting shorter and shorter, and I can hardly hold a hairpin.
The fragrance of ink filled the air, and people throughout Pearl City could smell the strange scent of ink and were at the same time infected by the emotions in the poem.
The poetry pages burn.
The vital energy above the Marshal's Mansion gathered madly towards Fang Yun's location, and the vital energy of the nearby heaven and earth was drained in an instant.
Most of the scholars in Zhucheng felt the change in their vital energy.
After hearing this poem, Wei Changxian's face turned pale, but then a look of sarcasm emerged. However, when he noticed that the vitality above Fang Yun began to condense, his face changed drastically, and he quickly ran to Lu Menhou's study, while sending an urgent letter.
"Marshal, something is wrong! The reputation of this poem has spread thousands of miles away. It is obviously a poem that can stabilize the country. However, it can actually attract the vitality of heaven and earth. It is very likely to become a legendary poem like Fang Xusheng's "Song of Water Melody"! Marshal, please isolate the vitality of heaven and earth, interrupt this poem, and suppress Zhang Longxiang!"
Wei Changxian ran a few steps, but found that Lu Menhou did not answer him, and there was no movement from the Holy Temple Talent.
In the Zhujiang military camp, the student Liu He'an took out the letter from his arms and looked at the address on the envelope, feeling indignant.
"The previous Marquis of Zhujiang was such a hero, but this young marquis is so bad that he doesn't even allow us to send letters home! No wonder so many people are scolding me, I think the scolding is too mild! We had agreed to write a letter home after Qingming Festival, but if it weren't for Zhang Longxiang, my letter would have reached my mother long ago! My mother couldn't receive the letter, and she must have run to the village every day to look towards the direction of the Pearl River and cry."
As he spoke, Liu Hean's eyes turned red.
Suddenly, a loud voice of reciting poetry came from the sky.
After hearing the whole poem, Liu He'an burst into tears and wet the letter home.
"Wow..." Liu He'an couldn't hold back any longer and covered his eyes with his right hand and cried. But after only a few cries, he suddenly took his right hand away and looked at the letter from home in his left hand.
The letter was trembling slightly.
Liu He'an felt extremely surprised. The letter opened automatically. He should have been frightened by this sudden change, but now he felt relieved instinctively. Then, he gently let go of his hand.
I saw the letter spinning in the air, as if saying goodbye, and then I heard a whoosh sound and flew straight into the sky.
Liu He'an looked up at the sky and tears flowed again, because the letters were flying towards his hometown, and more importantly, because tens of thousands of letters were rising from Zhucheng and flying towards the distance.
Letters fly north like wild geese.
"Is this the saint helping us?" Liu He'an looked into the distance with tears in his eyes, watching the letter gradually fade away.
At this moment, 300,000 soldiers looked up to the north, and 800,000 people in Zhucheng looked up to the north.
Fang Yun was also looking to the north. He saw a letter flying up from his residence. It was a letter he wrote to Zhang Jing'an about his reading experience.
Fang Yun smiled indifferently and walked forward.
"Spring Thoughts" directly topped the Hanlin Literature List.
The discussion list exploded, the Confucian literary world exploded, and the Shengyuan Continent exploded.
Within a few breaths, the titles of the articles on the literary forums were all filled with words of praise.
"The most talented person in the literary world! Zhang! Long! Xiang!"
"Ten years in prison with tears still lingering, a piece of "Spring Thoughts" moved the world!"
"It has never happened before, and it will be hard to see it again in the future!"
"Eight sentences can stabilize the army's morale, and one poem can bring peace to the world!"
"To defend the country is not as good as to spread it to the world, "Spring Thoughts" is still better than "Sharing the Beauty of the Moon"! This poem is far better than Fang Xusheng's "Water Melody"!"
"A legacy passed down from generation to generation is better than an eternal literary reputation!"
"The name of dragon elephant, the power of dragon elephant!"
.(To be continued.)