Cui Xie and Xie Ying hid in the corner of the yard and quietly studied perfume, but the judges on the stage dutifully rated the poems and took the average score to count the votes.
Most of the literati in the Ming Dynasty liked to write poems. This kind of poem ticket is not only for saving money, but also an opportunity to show off his skills and become famous, so there are a lot of them written with heart. There are still more than 100 expert votes left after the audition, and it will take a while to read them. The true love votes were counted earlier, and before the poems were read over there, there were a total of more than 1,800 votes here: Diaochan and Xiao Qiao were around 450, biting tightly. ; Zhen's has nearly 400 votes, Sun Shangxiang is a little farther, only 300; the bottom is Da Qiao.
After all, in history and romance, Da Qiao is just a thin shadow, and he doesn't even have his own dramas and comments. Just looking at the pictures, Xu Qing couldn't overwhelm the four actresses. After all, he was powerless.
If you can't see the difference between true love tickets, you have to rely on expert tickets. The audience deeply hated that they brought less money with them, and they couldn't buy more tickets to hold the beauties up. Hundreds of eyes in the whole hospital were staring at the stage, and hundreds of ears were pricked up, listening to the scores given by the judges.
When it was her turn to support the beauty, she hoped that the judges would give more points. If it wasn't her favorite, she wished she could get less points.
Gains and losses together, such boring poetry reading and scoring links seem to be more worrying than gambling cards. A group of people who didn't even understand Metrics listened to the scores reported by the judges, their hearts moved, they danced and froze, and shouted chaos below:
"This song is good, this is a wonderful sentence!"
"What's so good, I can't understand it when I hear it! Which poet says that a good poem must be written so that the old lady can understand it!"
"Bah, what kind of poetry do you know! This sentence 'the cold night dew wet silk clothes' is better than 'Zhennai King Wen loves the newcomer'!"
…
There are also authors who listened to their poems and asked their tutors to give them a low score.
The judges calmly rated the scores behind, and read the poem one by one, ignoring whoever made a noise below. Several sisters dressed as beauties were not so calm. They peeked out from the screen and asked tremblingly, "They won't call them, right?"
Before the group of people really made a big noise, a hand stretched out from the crowd, pressed the shoulder of the leader who shouted, and patted it hard.
That person had a rare chance to respond, shouting that the teacher was unfair, and that he wanted to go up to fight for justice for his poem and the beauty in the poem, but he was slapped so hard that he was almost breathless. In a hurry, he covered his shoulders, jumped his feet, turned around and shouted, "Who! Why shoot me!"
He looked back, but it was a young man he didn't know. He was handsome and handsome, with a faint smile on his face, and he didn't have any special majesty. But as soon as he saw the man's gaze, he felt inexplicably blocked in his throat, like a frog who saw a snake, unable to speak.
The man clapped his hands as if he had touched something dirty, and said with a smile, "There are quite a few VIPs here tonight to appreciate the beauty and judge the number one talent today. If you make trouble for you alone, if you disturb the audience Honorable guest, how can you afford to be abusive to the beauty of the ages?"
His voice did not increase deliberately, but because of his full energy, he still clearly came out from the crowd.
The scholar insisted and asked, "Who are you?"
He lowered his head and looked at his waist. There was a bag on the belt with a sign of "Jinyiwei Qianhu", but it was not worth taking out here. He just looked at the scholar lightly and asked, "Just now, the teacher gave a three-point review to the poem of Yong Er Qiao, 'I think about beauty and thoughts of countless people'. The people are here, the poems are also here, and the local yamen Zaoli is on standby in the courtyard, do you want to stay honest, or do you make a fuss and ask people to be bound into Daxing County?"
The scholar became hoarse, and there were a few people around who were shouting that they were not afraid and wanted to fight for him. The voice of a young man suddenly sounded from the back of the crowd, and he said loudly: "Since you can strive for the quality of poetry, you must be talented. But if you think about the beauty of me for the sake of 'I think the beauty is boundless, the east wind is not empty. If you make Erqiao Meet me first, don't marry Sun Lang and Zhou Lang.' Such a poem will be noisy with the judges, and it will be passed to Beijing tomorrow, do you still have the face to be a scholar?"
"He, he wrote this song..."
The group of young people who were still angry just now knew that such a person was in the lead, and they didn't dare to speak out. Those warriors and merchants who didn't know how to write poetry all burst into laughter, and the tense atmosphere in the whole courtyard suddenly relaxed.
The scholars who were leading the trouble listened to him and laughed so hard. They turned their heads and thought about their masterpiece, as if they were not at the level of earning a face by reading them aloud, they quickly covered their faces and scattered into the crowd.
The female prostitutes on the stage finally dared to come out, leaning on the railings and lanterns to illuminate the crowd, and said softly: "Thank you, son, for calming down this matter for me? Please come up and accept the slaves. The chaos just now scared the slaves' house. "
"My sisters have always been kind, but how can we make the officials hurt for us..."
It's just that Xie and Cui have long since disappeared into the crowd. They deliberately kept a low profile, their clothes were dark, and even the people around them didn't notice where the two went.
Those who called the beauty lantern had long since forgotten what they were fighting for, and no matter who they were looking for, they all competed to show their faces in the audience, and echoed: "Not bad, just a few sour poems? That poems won't account for much of the vote. Too much, arguing about the score less than half of the votes, why should I spend more money to buy books and vote for the beauties!"
The chaos disappeared, and ten dedicated judges finally counted the votes: Xiao Qiao counted 36 votes, Empress Zhen 30 votes, Diao Chan 23 votes, Da Qiao 18 votes, Mrs Sun 10 votes Five votes. Fractions with a few tenths in the average score are rounded up and will not be counted as votes.
Da Qiao's experts have more votes, but it is because Er Qiao often mentions it in poems. For those who have Yong Er Qiao, the final result is calculated equally by sisters. Zhen Shi is regarded as a one-man fight against Jiangdong Erqiao, and he can still achieve this result. It is all because of Cao Siwang's "Luo Shen Fu" that has made the literati's favor.
After all the results are calculated, the final winner is Xiao Qiao, then Zhen Shi, Diao Chan, Mrs. Sun, and Da Qiao. The highest-ranked poem was written by Yong Zhen, and the author only wrote the individual number "Mr. Shuixi".
Later, the bookstore staff removed the vote counting screen and replaced it with a new white one. Cui Qi got out from behind the painting screen and copied "Mr. Shuixi", "Jushi Chengtang", "Wanping Xie" on it. The titles of "Hanzhu Mountain People" and "Idlers in the Book" are inscribed below with their poems.
He has also practiced calligraphy and painting with Mr. Lu for a few days. Although his handwriting is not very good, he is quite good as a businessman.
Someone below also praised him a few times. His face was slightly red, but fortunately he couldn't see it under the light. He nervously grabbed the pen and said to the audience: "These five poets are the five leaders of today's poetry club. The portrait of Yong Jiaren was given to him. If anyone is there, please bring a seal that can prove your identity or the like to pick it up at the reception of the outer courtyard. If you don't have a certificate, you can also write a poem on the spot to prove yourself. Today's future, tomorrow's The shop will hang the poems outside Ju'anzhai, waiting for the poet to come and pick it up."
Everyone looked left and right, hoping that someone would come and lead it on the spot, so that they could watch the excitement.
The excitement really came, and a few people behind the crowd shouted: "Open the door, my son is an idler in the book! That Da Qiao's beauty picture belongs to our son!"
The crowd separated, and they all looked at the man through the lights by the stage, wishing to engrave this guy who stole the beauty into his heart. The man was dressed in bright red, draped around his waist, his belt was buckled to the ribs, his hem was wide, his head held high, and his face was half-covered with a folding fan, only revealing a pair of thick eyebrows and big eyes, in his twenties, that is, rich And leisure, envy everyone.
He looked left and right at the envious literati, showing a smug look, and said with a smile: "Although I didn't bring a seal, I can prove it myself - I voted for Da Qiao with seventeen votes in a row, and the other four voted for the United States. And more, besides me, no one else voted like this, right?"
It's a pity that repeated votes are not counted, otherwise the number of votes for the top two beauties will be more thrilling.
The door of the stage opened, and fragrant mist wafted out first, and then a beautiful woman in white came out, it was Da Qiao. As she got closer, she could see the eyeliner and vermilion powder around her eyes more clearly, but in the soft night, it didn't appear too strong, but she felt that her makeup was extraordinary and stunning.
She was covered in fragrance, and handed the scroll in her hand to the young master. She was deeply blessed: "Thank you for your love, and may you not forget your concubine."
Da Qiao came and went like the wind, leaving only a picture scroll, a few strands of fragrant powder sprinkled from the soles of the empty shoes on the ground, to teach people that it was the real person who came here.
The "idler in the book" knocked on his palm with a folding fan, looked at the door and sighed, "After today, these five beauties will be worth a hundred times more. I really want to take a closer look at what the remaining ones look like and write poems. Who won their portraits?"
He sighed and left, but there was no next one who was so brave to take pictures in public, which made the audience very disappointed. Cui Xie watched him go away from behind, and sighed, "You genius, I don't know where he is from. Maybe we can take the exam with him in the future?"
My own accumulation is not enough...
Cui Xie shook his head, but saw Xie Ying laughing beside him, his shoulders trembling slightly, the corners of his mouth pursed and pursed, and he said in a low voice, "That person is really not a genius, this poem is most likely to be bought for money. of."
It turned out to be bought by someone... It seems that gunmen and ghostwriters have existed since ancient times, so it's not too surprising. Cui Xie sighed that the moral integrity of the ancients was no better than that of modern people, and asked, "Brother Xie recognizes this son?"
Xie Ying looked at him with a smile, and said with curved eyebrows: "Not only I recognize it, but you also recognize it by turning a corner—he is Gao Su, the nephew of Eunuch Gao, who awarded you the honor. Seeing that he has a name in Jinyiwei, he is leading the way. Salary."
Cui Xie was immediately awe-inspiring: "When I entered the palace, it was also thanks to Eunuch Gao who sent someone to mention it in advance. Since he likes painting, why don't I ask someone to send five of them to his house?"
Xie Ying shook his head: "No, you shouldn't know him, and rashly went there to make people suspicious. Besides, these 10 taels of silver are not worth a special gift."
If this painting hadn't been printed that many, it would have been able to command a high price for its freshness.
Instead, what Cui Xie wanted was "worthless". The people who came to the garden party today were either rich or expensive. If they only had those five paintings, they would be able to auction off a sum of money, but would they be happy if they didn't buy it? Don't you think it's unreasonable to spend a high price on it
This is not the time when they in the Qian'an realm, relying on the big tree of the third-rank commander in the name of the son of the fifth-grade man, can be safe and sound. Which of these nobles is unhappy, even a little Ju Anzhai can't bear it.
At this time, because no new talent came forward to lead the painting, the tourists also began to turn around. The beauty pageant has officially ended here. Everyone slowly appeared on the stage under the guidance of the local Lijia. If they wanted to eat, they could have some supper, and each person could bring a beauty lamp back as a souvenir before leaving. A white run.
Xie Ying saw a few colleagues approaching from a distance, so she shook Cui Xie's hand lightly and whispered, "I'll go to them, and it's not good for people to see you and me so close. You can go back too, don't call your classmates. We are suspicious..."
He stuffed the lantern and baggage with Choi Xie and turned to leave. Cui Xie watched him go away in the flower shadow, went against the flow of people to the stage, and waited to return to the East Court with the judges to rest.
The judges didn't even bother to ask where he went, so they asked with a smile, "Does He Zhong know who wrote that poem about Mrs. Sun?"
ah? Cui Xie was stunned for a while, seeing that these people in the room were either excited and wished they could come to the stage to shout twice, or they were trying to suppress their joy. To pretend to be reserved and calm, they guessed that the author must be his own. He looked around, only Fei Jieyuan was really indifferent and would not laugh as soon as he opened his mouth. He was an acquaintance who had met a few times, so he stepped forward and asked, "I want to ask Fei Jieyuan, who did it."
Fei Hong's calm expression suddenly broke, his eyes flashed and he looked out, and asked in a low voice, "How did Cui Qian guess it was me?"
A Juzi said in surprise: "It's really a guess, you come in and look at it so many times, you know it's Fei Zichong?"
His uncle Ferry smiled and said, "Cui's case is really extensive, even our Hanzhu Mountain in Jiangxi knows about it."
Mr. Cui's case... It was purely a blind cat meeting a dead mouse, but at this time, he couldn't tell the truth, and he pretended to be inscrutable, and said with a smile: "Congratulations to Fu Jieyuan, quickly ask them to wrap up Mrs. Sun's portrait, and call them uncle and nephew Ling. take away."
Fei Hong settled down and thanked him: "Actually, I should have thanked Mr. Cui. My uncle will be going back to his hometown recently. I never thought that before my uncle returns, we can still be this mentor together, seeing such a lively scene, go to When I recall this later, I can relieve my loneliness a little."
Only then did Cui Xie know that the uncle of the Fei family was leaving, but the students in the Shuixingtang knew it long ago, and they felt a little nostalgic about it.
They were almost too lively here. Ferry got the painting for his nephew, and he was about to go back after packing. Suddenly, the door of the stage below was knocked again. Someone went down and opened the door to let people in, and asked him about it. Identity, he announced loudly from the bottom: "The owner, the author of Diao Chan's poem, 'Wan Ping Xie' has come to pick up the painting."
Cui Xie hurriedly asked someone to move a screen to block the tutors, left a table outside for registration, and asked the lady disguised as Diaochan to greet him.
After the award recipient came up, he should have registered to confirm his identity, but as soon as that person opened his mouth, the mentors behind the screen suddenly saw sweat on their foreheads, and they dared not speak—
That was the voice of Xie Jing, their assistant teacher of the Poetry Division!
Assistant Professor Xie didn't recognize them, and asked lightly, "I don't have a seal, but I can write a poem on the spot to prove it. Would you like to comment?"
No, don't use it, they all believe in the character of the teaching assistant, not the impostor!