The Shen Family Courtyard is built on the halfway of Yuegu Mountain, with few people and quiet scenery. At the gate of the villa, Cui Xie sent Cui Yuan and his son to go up the mountain to play.
Biezhuang is surrounded by Qingxi, the corridors and pavilions are twists and turns, and the tall and elegant buildings are surrounded by red maples and boxwoods. The flowerbed is full of hydrangea-like yellow chrysanthemums and white chrysanthemums, and red peony, purple robe golden belt, red lion ball, turtle dove feathers, faded white and other famous products are planted in pottery pots under the corridor.
The scorching autumn flowers are full of trees like clouds and red leaves, shaking the autumn feeling. There is also a maid in a red shirt and a white skirt shuttled between the flowers, her face is flushed from the busy running, and the person is more delicate than the flower. The students rejoiced at the scenery, and they were all talented and eager to write poetry.
Brother Yue is half the owner of this villa. He is more interested in seeing the scenery than others. On the way to the garden with his classmates, he couldn't help but sing a poem: "Chongyang courtyard is planted with chrysanthemums, and the autumn mud on the trail is still fragrant. The old leaves and frost flowers are worthy of appreciation, cut into a new sentence for the mountain field. The grass and trees do not know the sorrow and the twilight... "
Approaching the Moon Gate, everyone suddenly heard a clear chanting voice from inside: "... Qingshuang several flowers are clean by the water, and the setting sun is slanting outside. For Ru Qiu's deep depression, drinking wine and chatting with poems Family."
Although it was only four short sentences, the mood in the poem was so isolated and distant that it overwhelmed Senior Brother Yue's rhythm poem, and he was too embarrassed to finish reading it.
His people were also a little dejected, and stopped at the edge of the courtyard and did not go inside. The poet in the courtyard didn't mean to attack him. He walked out quickly and asked, "Which friend is reciting poetry outside? It's me who disturbed my friend's poetry."
A few young scholars in their twenties and thirties walked out from behind the Moon Gate. The one who recited poetry was at the forefront, and a look of surprise appeared on his face when he saw them.
Next to him, a tall student with fair eyes and a slightly dark complexion came out to pull Senior Brother Yue, smiled and introduced to everyone, "This is my cousin Yue Su, these little friends are his classmates, and they are all in the right place. My brother is studying, and today I came here to meet the world."
Several children hurriedly saluted, and Shen Zheng pointed at the scholar who recited poetry and said, "This is Guo Yong and Guo Tiaoyang, our most famous talent in Qian'an. This is Tang Ning and Tang Changping, the chief of the trial case in Ding Youke County, who wrote the condolences. Yu Qi Yu Zixing of Yi Qi Fu, Huang Tai Zhang Ji Zhang Bozhi…”
Several scholars were not a few years older, but they all smiled at them with a tolerant look like looking at the younger generation, and said with a smile: "It turns out that they are students of Brother Shi, so they are similar to our students."
Guo Yong also mentioned two lines from Yue Su, and picked out the faults of the crane knee, bee waist and upper tail in his poems. He also taught him to focus on the poem first, focusing on artistic conception, rhythm, and rhetoric. Poems with a smooth pulse are living poems, and those that are fragmented to fit the rhythm are not considered high-quality after all.
Yue Su's heart was fascinated when he heard it, and his simple and honest face showed a look of longing and admiration, forgetting that he was ashamed that Shicai's poems were compared to scum. Other Tongsheng also looked at Guo Xiucai eagerly, wishing they could listen to him write a few more good poems.
The master, Shen Zhen, smiled and said, "If we want to teach, don't teach here. Let's sit at the table and talk. I have asked someone to prepare freshly squeezed chrysanthemum wine. Crab, I also asked people to invite a few daughters from Mama Wen and Mama Liu’s house in the three rooms. Later, when we say poetry, we will ask them a few wines, and whoever does a good job will let him pick one person to sing."
The eyes of several scholars lit up, and they began to search for sentences, hoping to win the championship in one fell swoop.
Only Guo Yong was calm as usual, or he had already made up his mind. When everyone else was full of thoughts about how to write a good poem to convince the audience, he could still think of these elementary school students, and took the initiative to ask them: "Do you guys also write? Poetry, or a pair? Even if we come to the poetry festival, we should have a winner and loser. It’s not good for us as students to compare with them, but we can be a judge for them, and the good ones can also be sung by people.”
The little friends also hope that the poems they write can be sung by beauties, and they started racking their brains to prepare for this poetry meeting last month. Naturally, they want to write poems.
Because the scholars in this yard are all Tsing Yi square scarves, Tong Sheng is white cloth Confucian scarves, only Cui Xie is wearing a jade-colored tunic, wearing a small Liuhe hat - I haven't tried it, I can only wear variegated children - Guo Yong Huan He specifically asked Cui Xie, "Xiaoyou has been in school for a few years, can you write poetry?"
He lowered his head and saw that Cui Xie was holding a bookcase of magnetic blue paper in his hand, so he asked, "You came to Cenggao Qiuyou with a book? It's a studious nature."
Cui Xie lowered his head and said humbly, "It's not a book, it's a few poems. I don't know how to write poems in my late life, so I'm here today to record the good quotes of the seniors and bring them back to my classmate, brother Zhao Yinglin. "
Shen Zheng smiled and said, "Alright, we also have to have a supervisor when we write poetry. Whoever's good will be recorded on the note, and the bad will be dismissed. But you need to bring this note, I'll call someone. I'll bring you a pen and paper. Come on, I'll take you to the table."
The banquet was held in the Cui family's garden. There were already quite a few elderly scholars sitting on the banquet, and a few charming prostitutes were holding pipa and arranging silk and bamboo, and accompany the scholars to talk. Shen Zheng took Guo Yong and the others over. Regardless of the students, the prostitutes hurriedly stood up to greet them, shyly looking at the group of young men.
The middle-aged scholar in the guest room smiled and said, "Alas, as soon as the young people come, none of us old men want them anymore."
Shen Yue smiled and said, "Brother Xu, don't be annoyed, ask Brother Guo to come and sit at our table, and the beauties will naturally follow."
He arranged the scholars in the atrium, and the children could only sit in the vice seats under the corridor. The two sides were clearly separated. His own cousin didn't call to the table, but asked him to entertain the classmates he brought down below.
Shen Zheng pointed to a prostitute who used to sit with the Confucian boys and sing their poems later.
Although the prostitute was a little reluctant to be talented, she sat down and looked at a group of shy and jerky teenagers, and Cui Xie, who was especially pleasing to the eye, and the disappointment disappeared. She squeezed to Cui Xie's side and asked them with a smile, "What do you call the young ministers? Would you like to hear Nunu sing a little song to persuade you to drink?" As she spoke, she wanted to hit Cui Xie.
A few classmates thought that others were tender and tender, and couldn't stand it, so they hurriedly sacrificed their bodies to block up, and pushed him out of the seat. Fortunately, Yue Su, the half-master, was competent enough to pull him from the outside, and he was not pushed directly to the ground.
However, before he could stand firm, a familiar voice with a hint of anger came from behind him: "What are you doing!"
Yue Su's face turned pale, and he withdrew his hand. Cui Xie almost fell to him, holding the corner of the table and shaking a few times before he stood firm. Several classmates also tried their best to sit up straight, daring not to have the slightest contact with the singing girl.
Cui Xie looked back, but saw Mr. Lin's beard and halberd, looking angrily at Wang Luo and his brothers. The master Shen Zhen and a few older scholars went up to greet them. Mr. Lin looked at his friends and spared them for a while, but the little boys also bowed their heads and blushed, and did not dare to make trouble anymore.
shock! Is there anything more embarrassing than seeing the teacher and the organizer chatting and laughing in the table when the primary school students enter the weathered place privately
Of course there is.
That is, the teacher also pulled him out of the many criticized students as a moral example, and praised him a few times. And he pointed their names and said, "Yue Su, Cui Xie, you two are sensible, pull those bastards up for me!"
A few children stood up shyly, and Shen Zheng, who was the master, hurriedly smoothed things out and said with a smile, "It's my fault, I'm not good enough for a young lady to serve them. A few little friends, sit down, you will have to wait a while. When writing poetry, don't scare Shixing away."
Mr. Lin snorted coldly: "What kind of poems do they write, but it's just nonsense!"
However, Guo Yong said a good word for them: "Why not? We heard a few little friends compose poems when we were in the outer courtyard, and there are still some merits. Although Mr. Cui can't do it, he said he would like to do it for us. Superintendent, transcribe the poems, brother Shi will spare them this time."
Mr. Lin didn't want to refute the good face of his friends, so he snorted coldly, didn't care about them for the time being, and told them to go back in the evening and copy "University" ten times each - Cui Xie and Yue Su didn't need to copy if they didn't make trouble.
The eyes of envy and resentment suddenly fell on the two of them, staring at their robes.
Shen Zheng smiled and said: "Since everyone is here, let's write a poem first, and choose the poet to come to the banquet. Brother Su greets your little friends on my behalf. Since this young master Cui is a supervisor, he Come to the table in front and prepare to transcribe poetry."
Mr. Lin said, "I'm too old to compete with you talented people. I'll be a judge today."
Everyone came to write poems, and no one was arguing with him about this, so he got up and said to the scholars: "Since it is the Double Ninth Day, it is time to write a poem on the Double Ninth Ninth Festival, so I refer to the chrysanthemum as the subject, and write a poem for each, and use a new poem. Don't perfunctory with old works."
The prostitutes also laughed and begged these talents to write good poems for themselves. No matter how talented and young people are, under the attention of the beauties, they are all full of energy and confidently spread out the pen and paper.
The maid of the Shen family ordered the seal incense and timed, and gave Cui Xie a pen and ink and delicate colored paper for him to transcribe his masterpiece. Cui Xie refused to ask for it, but pointed to the paper box and said, "I have my own paper, and I have Sister Lao."
Mr. Lin was sitting on the main table, not far from him, and when he saw a bookcase on his desk, he pointed and asked, "What book did you bring with you? Could it be that you haven't finished your homework yet?"
No, I brought such a big box to pretend, just to wait for someone to ask.
Cui Xie lowered his eyes and smiled and said, "Mr. Hui, this is a newly made chrysanthemum paper in my bookstore. My disciple thought it would be more suitable to copy Chongyang poems with chrysanthemum paper, so I brought it here specially."
"Chrysanthemum paper?" The people at the guest table weren't in a hurry to write poetry, but they all looked at the box with interest: "Isn't it a paper with chrysanthemums printed on it? It's an elegant thing, take it out and let's take a look at the paper How about chrysanthemums, is it worthy of the chrysanthemum poems of this Qian'an genius?"
Cui Xie responded simply, and turned the box over, revealing the paper that was rolled up into a bundle, holding one end in each hand and unfolding it very slowly from right to left.
At first, what was exposed was just an empty sheet of paper dyed yellow with natural watermarks in the corners. Shen Zheng also laughed and said, "If it's just dyed with yellow flowers, it's not a flower paper. This kind of paper is not worthy of the words of the first talented person in our county."
Everyone looked at Guo Yong and smiled. He seemed a little shy, lowered his eyes and said, "I think the paper is too big, and the chrysanthemums are printed in the corners and haven't been exposed yet."
The drawing paper continued to unfold, revealing a little light green skirt corner, autumn-colored robes, Mr. Lin's smile narrowed slightly, showing a bit of surprise, suspiciously: "Is this drawn by someone in your shop? It's actually on the paper. Painting, this is how much work it takes, but it is a bit extravagant."
Cui Xie made a wrong finger, and the entire paper was unfolded, revealing a slender woman holding a white chrysanthemum. This time it wasn't just Mr. Lin, the master Shen Zheng and the guest of honor Guo Yong, who were known for their talents and had seen many handed down paintings and calligraphy, couldn't help but stand up and said in amazement, "Whose painting is this? Such a painting? Did you actually use it as a paper?"
Only then did he raise his head, smiled slightly at everyone, and explained calmly: "The late-born father is only a poor Beijing official, how can he be so extravagant as to ask someone to paint as a paper? This is a gift from Mr. Meng Lin a few days before his late death. There is a volume of good articles from Beijing, and I specially made a painting for one of the chrysanthemum poems. Because the painting is suitable for Chongyang, I asked the craftsmen in the shop to print it out for entertainment, and it didn’t take much material and labor.”
He opened the scrolls of painting notes, gave each one a piece, pointed to the poem beside the picture of the beautiful woman, and said, "It is this poem that I really liked in my late life, and it was not enough to recite, so I made it into a note."
How can everyone care about reading poetry, just looking at the beauty next to the poem, they can't take their eyes off, and after a while, someone sighs: "Where is this chrysanthemum paper, this is clearly a beauty paper!"
Mr. Lin almost pinched the paper, and managed to control his strength, coughed lightly, and asked, "Who did you learn to draw from? Who did you learn to make paper from? How can you print such gorgeous color paintings? Could it be the law in Beijing?"
That's not right either. Although Qian'an is located in a remote location, close to the mountains and seas, it is still in northern Zhili, and it is not difficult to travel between things in Beijing. The Nanjian Beijian he usually buys has never been so delicate and beautiful, not like a thing in the world.
Cui Xie simply said: "My disciple learned painting from Lu Juren in Jiangxi, but I'm not good at making paper. It's just that I wanted color paper temporarily and asked those craftsmen to try it out, and they printed it like this."
… what kind of craftsmanship is that! Mr. Lin's heart trembled a little, and he could only sigh, "As expected of a craftsman from Lang Zhongfu", and then asked him, "Does this note have a name?"
Cui Xie shook his head: "That is, chrysanthemum paper, Chongyang paper, etc., you can call it whatever you want. But the person in this painting is Wanning, the fox whom Jinyang scholar Fang Ning met, or Wanning paper?"
Guo Yong suddenly opened his mouth and said with a bit of sigh: "If you can print out such a colored paper like fine brushwork, why should you care what picture is drawn on the paper, and what season is it? I look at your family's. Cui Jian is the most suitable name for Jian, and after today, the two capitals and thirteen provinces will all be fighting to buy Cui Jian!"
The author has something to say: Guo Yong's poem is taken from the poems of the Ming Dynasty, Wu Yipeng's "Seeing Chrysanthemum After the Festival"
More than ten days have passed since Chongyang, when I saw Shuli Chrysanthemum blooming. Tired of chasing after the vulgar offerings, leaving a cold companion poet alone.
A few flowers of clear frost clear the water's edge, and a branch of the setting sun slants outside. For Ru Qiu's deep consolation and Xiaosuo, wine chatting and inserting black yarn.
Tune the end of the poem
In the foreign history of scholars, scholars are called friends, and Tongsheng is called a little friend, and scholars do not talk to Tongsheng.