Can this poem really be written like this
Wei Changchun was proud. When he saw everyone looking at him with astonishment, he knew that the poem he had just made was a very good poem. How good is it? At least now those guys who looked at themselves in amazement must not be able to do it.
Unexpectedly, the old man, who didn't know a few words, could actually make a good poem that made the Chinese ministers stunned. Did the green smoke on the ancestor's grave? No, it was taught by Wu Hou! That's right, it's good.
Wu Zheng glanced at the officials, and finally looked at Linghu Deshuo, who was also surprised, and smiled: "Old Xiangguo, this kid is a feasible way to teach people to make poetry?"
Linghu Deshuo was a little distracted. He looked at the triumphant Wei Changchun in surprise, and felt that he had almost read the books of the past few decades in the belly of a dog. This was Wei Changchun, a killer who did not know a few big characters. In a short span of less than half a stick of incense, he actually made a seven-character quatrain that he even wanted to make a decision. Isn't this so special? How can this make oneself and the world's readers feel so embarrassed
At this moment, he saw Wu Zheng smiling at him, and he immediately reacted, pulling his shirt and sleeves, sitting upright and saying: "The old man has to admit that this is indeed a rare masterpiece, but if you want to make the old man I believe that poetry can be so simple, but the old man still doesn't believe it."
Wu Zheng hadn't spoken yet, but Cheng Jie who was behind him stood up suddenly and said: "I said Lao Xiangguo, you can't deny it if you lose!"
Linghu Deshuo glanced at Cheng Jie with an angry look, and said, "Do you know something about scholars? Don't be scumbags here."
Wu Zheng said: "The kid dare to ask the old Xiangguo, how can you be convinced that you have to do what the kid does? You can't believe it, just give it up!"
Linghu Deshuo smiled and said: "Don't worry, the old man is not the kind of person who doesn't admit the account after losing. It's just that if the old man has done a good job in his heart, and then speaks out through the mouth of others, the old man also has this ability. You can teach people to make another song."
"Teach someone to make another song? Then I don't know who the old Xiangguo wants the kid to teach this time?"
Linghu Deshuo glanced at the people present, and finally set his eyes on Jiang Junsheng, pointing to Jiang Junsheng and said: "This time you teach him to make another song. Didn't the poem you taught Wei Changchun do just now mention Yumen Pass? The poem you taught him this time must also mention Yumen Pass."
Wu Zheng smiled and said: "How difficult is this, but if General Jiang made it this time, Lao Xiangguo, would you still ask me to teach someone to make a song?"
Linghu Deshuo said: "Don't worry, as long as you can make Jiang Junsheng make a good one that is not lost to Wei Changchun this time, the old man will be convinced."
Wu Zheng turned slightly to look at Jiang Junsheng.
At this time, General Sheng had already stood up and hugged his fists at Wu Zheng from a distance.
Wu Zheng smiled and said: "Uncle Jiang is polite, I wonder if Uncle Jiang has seen Yumen Pass?"
In Da Zhou, Yumen Pass was not from Da Zhou, but from Tuyuhun. That's why Wu Zheng asked this question. It's just that it sounds, it is undoubtedly the sad thing in the hearts of bloody people, because this Yumen Front was lost in the hands of Da Zhou, and it has not been able to come back.
Jiang Junsheng sighed and said: "When I was young, I was fortunate to have seen it from a distance."
"Really? Then Jiang Jun can remember how the weather was that day? Day or night? What season?"
Jiang Junsheng thought for a while and said: "It's autumn, and it's windy at night."
"On a windy day at night, you can still see Yumen Pass from a distance in such weather like Uncle Jiang, and the moon must be very big that night!"
Jiang Junsheng nodded, and Wu Zheng smiled and said: "Uncle Jiang can try to use verses to describe the scenery you just thought of, such as where the moon comes from and what it looks like in the sky. Where does the wind come from? , Where did you catch up again?"
"This..." Jiang Junsheng glanced at Wu Zheng with some embarrassment, hesitated, and finally said while pondering: "The moon rises in Qilian Mountains and hides in the clouds. The wind has blown from it to Yumen Pass."
Wu Zheng clapped his hands and said: "Good poetry, but our soldiers have to pay attention to the heroic spirit in this poem, and this poetry cannot be based on truth from facts. Tianshan, the word Tianshan is much more domineering than Qilianshan."
With Wu Zheng's encouragement, Jiang Junsheng seemed to be more confident at once, nodded and thought for a while and said: "The moon is like Tianshan... No, some don't rhyme, yes! The bright moon is out of Tianshan, clouds... Sea of clouds?"
Wu Zheng said:... (End of this chapter)