Huang Jin, who came to pass the note, was not surprised at all by Yuan Wei's quick thinking. Yuan Wei had always been quick in thinking. In the past, the emperor would sometimes send out pieces of Yuzheng Qingci in the middle of the night, and Yuan Wei would always write and complete it.
, and was very liked by the Holy One.
At this time, seeing Yuan Wei finish it with a wave of his hand, Huang Jin showed a satisfied look on his face, and then walked over to admire Yuan Wei's masterpiece.
The words move like a dragon and a snake, vigorous and powerful, and the method is very exquisite. The literary talent is also good, and the poems are also top-notch works, which can be called excellent. It is just that they are good. In terms of method, they can be called great achievements, and in terms of literary talent, they can be praised, but they are not.
There is not much appetite, which is a pity.
"Master Yuan is interested." Huang Jin nodded to Yuan Wei without showing any emotion.
After receiving Huang Jin's praise, Yuan Wei's face became even more proud, and his chin was raised more than forty degrees.
After Yuan Wei finished writing, others began to write gradually. The next one to finish was Li Chunfang. Like Yuan Wei, Li Chunfang also often wrote Qing Ci for Emperor Jiajing. In the past few days at the Hanlin Academy, his poetry writing skills had increased even more:
Fresh bamboo shoots on the outskirts of Beijing are boiled while the anchovies are rotten in the spring breeze in early March.
Only the water shield perch can eat the immortal fish.
Compared with Yuan Wei's poem, Huang Jin's expression was slightly richer when he read Li Chunfang's poem, but he still felt a little regretful in his heart. Although this poem has a bit of a rice flavor and makes people a little more interested in fish, it is also a little bit.
That's all, it still doesn't whet your appetite, which is a pity.
"Master Li is interested.??" Huang Jin nodded, unable to see his emotions.
After Li Chunfang finished writing the poem, everyone else also wrote a poem one after another, and Zhang Juzheng and Zhang Siwei also each wrote a poem.
Zhang Juzheng’s poems are definitely among the best:
The dragon king knows the beauty of fish, and the mountain god knows the fragrance of bamboo shoots.
The sweet brew is made in a white jade cup, and the taste is especially long when it is half-boiled.
Zhang Siwei lived up to his literary talents and wrote a masterpiece following Zhang Juzheng.
All the Hanlin scholars present here have basically finished writing a masterpiece. The only one who has not yet finished writing is Zhu Pingan. Zhu Pingan was born in the No. 1 Scholarship, but he has not written yet at this time. Everyone can't help but turn their attention to him.
On the body.
Could it be that the Number One Scholar was confused when he received the proposition from the Holy Emperor for the first time?
Huang Jin also set his sights on Zhu Pingan at this moment. If he had high hopes for anyone this time, it was Zhu Pingan. It was Zhu Pingan's poem on the wine table last night that made the emperor eat two more
A bowl of rice.
In fact, when he saw the little note from Emperor Jiajing, Zhu Ping'an's first reaction was the food poems written by foodies that he had seen in modern times. The joke he made last night was the food poems he had seen on the Internet.
One of the poems, I say that when I saw these poems in modern times, I had a big appetite. Even Lao Ganma would save money when eating instant noodles. It was more satisfying than when I saw China on the tip of my tongue.
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.?
"Why hasn't the No. 1 scholar written yet?" Huang Jin asked.
"I dare to ask Huang Gong. What are the restrictions on poetry?" Zhu Pingan did not answer, but asked Huang Jin a question.
"Nothing else, just appetizing." Huang Jin shook his head, and then added meaningfully: "No need to worry too much, just write whatever you want."
There is something in the words, but I like it. Zhu Pingan nodded slightly and had an idea. If he writes according to the conventional rules, his literary talent is not as good as Yuan Wei, Li Chunfang, Zhang Juzheng and others, and to be honest. Their poems are really good.
I don't have much appetite.
Think about it, Emperor Jiajing had a poor appetite and couldn't eat, and the purpose was to whet his appetite. As for style, I asked anyway, and Huang Jin said there was no such thing. In addition, even if the style is not good, it will only make a few laughs at most.
It seems not bad to make Emperor Jiajing laugh twice.
face?
Ahem, that thing is worth a lot of money, and it’s quite tiring to wear it.
After Zhu Ping'an thought clearly, he raised the corners of his lips. He picked up the brush with a sense of joking and dipped the ink into the inkstone.
For a moment, everyone focused their attention on Zhu Ping'an's thick and dripping pen tip.
The pen is handsome and the writing is steady, but what do you mean by stopping on the paper and not moving?! Everyone watched Zhu Pingan pick up the pen, dip it in ink, and after putting down the pen, they were waiting to see the poem written by Zhu Pingan, but
At this critical moment, Zhu Pingan put the pen down on the paper and there was nothing to say. He didn't move, as if the engine was turned off.
Why, are you nervous and confused?
The embarrassment of such a big task was only superficial. Yuan Wei looked at Zhu Ping'an with a more disdainful look.
"Ahem, I'm sorry to bother Mr. Huang, but I'd like to ask you what the royal kitchen wants to feed His Majesty today. I'm afraid it will mess up His Majesty's dietary arrangements."
Zhu Pingan's voice sounded about half a second after he started writing.
When Zhang Juzheng heard this, he couldn't help but look at Zhu Pingan twice. He was so thoughtful. Why didn't he think of this point that Zhu Pingan was considering!
Everyone else seems to feel the same way.
"His Majesty has been fasting and eating vegetarian food for a long time a few days ago. The imperial kitchen is thinking of making more meat to replenish the blood and qi of His Majesty."
Huang Jin looked at Zhu Pingan with admiration. He was very satisfied with Zhu Pingan's attentiveness and his ability to put himself in the emperor's shoes instead of simply having the mentality of completing the task. Such a minister is the one your Majesty admires.
Oh, eat more meat.
Zhu Ping'an nodded, and then the brush in his hand began to dance, writing in one go:
The absence of bamboo makes people vulgar, and the absence of meat makes people thin.
Not vulgar but not thin, braised pork with bamboo shoots.
At first, everyone was shocked by Zhu Pingan's method. Zhu Pingan's method can be said to be the best in the Hanlin Academy. But when Zhu Pingan finished writing the poem, everyone was stunned. Uh, is this a limerick? But it is better than a limerick.
A bit elegant. Zhu Ping'an's limerick is adapted from Su Shi's poem: It is better to eat without meat than to live without bamboo. Without meat, one will be thin, without bamboo, one will be vulgar. I took two lines from Su Shi's poem, but they are
Then he perfected it and added it into a poem.
Regardless of the literary talent, reading this poem does make people have a strong urge to try this good and not thin braised pork with bamboo shoots. It is very strong.
However, in terms of literary talent, Zhu Pingan’s poem cannot be compared with Yuan Wei, Li Chunfang and others. Is this also called poetry?! After thinking about it for so long, he wrote such a poem. Yuan Wei and several others looked at Zhu Pingan with a
Disdainful.
"Actually, I love eating. Sometimes when I read ancient poems, I can't help but think of food, and then I try to make some interesting sentences. It's almost like this." Zhu Pingan said and smiled sheepishly.
He laughed, and then he wrote for everyone to see:
An old friend left the Yellow Crane Tower in the west and traveled thousands of miles to buy fish heads!
When you ask about your return date, braised eggplant and chicken in oil.
Once upon a time, it was difficult to find water in the sea, so fish-flavored shredded pork with chicken legs.
It's hard to say goodbye when we meet. Don't put salt in the steamed crabs.
After Zhu Pingan wrote these few sentences, there was an uproar around him, accompanied by whispers such as joking around and messing around. If Zhu Pingan's poem at the beginning can still be called a poem, what he wrote later can be called a poem.
It can't be described as poetry at all. To say it is a limerick would be an understatement.
You asked, if the return date is not yet due, braised eggplant and oil-braised chicken, what are these? (To be continued.)
When the ground comes down and the clouds come down, come to the pavilion and you can get the view.]