The imperial concubine asked quickly, Han Yu must be a hermit, and it would be great if he could be invited to the Imperial Academy to teach students.
"Uh, I don't know." Li Xiaodao shook his head, his voice still thin and crisp.
The Imperial Academy was a little disappointed, and he blew his beard and said: "How could you not know?"
Xiaodao was confused for a while: "My second sister said that the authors are all ancestors, and I don't know the ancestors."
"Ah? Ancestor? He passed away?"
Li Xiaodao nodded hesitantly and said, "That's right? My second sister told me to memorize more poems. I'll adapt to the situation and just copy them. These poems were left by our ancestors, just for the younger generations to copy for fun."
"I can't write poetry. My second sister told me that I have read three hundred Tang poems by heart. I can also recite poetry even if I can't compose it.
The second sister also said that if anyone does not learn from their predecessors and apply what they have learned, it is not called plagiarism. Besides, if you copy, it becomes your own."
The two bosses were speechless for a while. Is this plagiarism still justified?
"My second sister also said that copying is not terrible, but you have to know who left this knowledge. We have to be grateful for other people's poems and cultivate our sentiments."
Li Xiaodao's second sister Yifan said, causing the two bosses to look at each other frequently.
The Imperial Academy nodded, "Well, your second sister has a conscience. But your second sister should not encourage you to plagiarize, but let you quote."
The Minister of Rites agreed: "Yes, it is quoting. Quoting the poems of predecessors to express one's feelings. This is not called plagiarism."
"Ah, that little girl, you said your ancestors left three hundred Tang poems? How many do you remember?"
The Imperial Academy was stroking his beard while offering wine, his eyes were rolling around, and he had a wretched look on his face.
Classmate Li Xiaodao said proudly: "I don't count, but I am the one who remembers the most in our family. My eldest brother doesn't carry as much as me."
"Oh, you are such a smart girl, let's see how many songs you write?" Yang Shilang smiled even more obscenely.
Li Xiaodao didn't know that he was deceived by two old foxes, so he happily wrote fifteen spring poems in one breath.
From Zhinan's "Queju":
A short awning is tied in the shade of an ancient tree, and a staff and quinoa help me cross the east side of the bridge. The rain of apricot blossoms makes my clothes wet, and the willow breeze blows on my face without chilling it.
To Su Shi's "Spring Night":
A moment of spring night is worth a thousand pieces of gold, the flowers are fragrant and the moon is dark. The sound of the singing pipe is soft on the balcony, and the night is deep in the swing courtyard.
The Imperial Academy's Jijiu and Yang Shilang stared at each other with big eyes, exclaiming one after another, exclaiming one after another and sighing one after another.
"What a poem, what a poem!"
"Quequa, quatrain!"
"This poem is amazing, so beautiful."
"Yes, it's poetic and picturesque. The ancients never deceived me."
The movement here naturally alarmed many people, and everyone gathered around. No matter who the men or women were on guard, they all poked their heads in to look inside.
"Whose family does this little girl belong to? Why haven't I seen her before?"
"I don't know, it's my first time seeing you too."
Someone with knowledge said: "It should be a relative of the Duke Protector's Palace who came with Miss Lie Qi."
"Ah? This military commander's family also has a talented woman?"
"That's right, you said that when they practice martial arts, what kind of poetry do they learn from literati?"
"No, they have already written poems, so what are we going to do? We can't imitate them in wielding swords and sticks, right?"
"Hey! It's sad, it's a pity that our scholarly family has been defeated by someone who wields a sword."
But he said that the Imperial Academy Jijiu and Yang Shilang looked at the names of the authors and didn't recognize any of them.
"This man named Tang Shi must be a great Confucian and knows so many talented scholars."
"Hey! It's a pity that so many talented scholars have been lost. It seems that we have to increase our efforts to promote talents!"
"Yes, Daqing is really full of talents! We can't just bury them. Let's write a report together later. We have to remind His Majesty to recruit talents."
"Based on my brother-in-law's orders, my younger brother has no shirk, no shirk!"
Li Xiaodao's operation directly promoted the two of them to the level of "distributing talents in an eclectic way".
After the Imperial College offered wine and sighed with emotion, he asked: "Little girl, are your ancestors hermits?"
Li Xiaodao shook his head: "We live in the mountains."
Yang Shilang nodded: "Well, it's right to hide in the forest."
Unintentionally, the Li family's ancestor, who had been a poor peasant for eight generations and was illiterate, became a hermit.
Li Xiaodao stole the show here, and the Li family became a hermit's home.
At this time, there was also a small poetry gathering in the residence of the assistant professor of the Imperial College.
In addition to the students from the Imperial College, there were also some students from the female school who came to participate in the poetry meeting.
Li Xiangjin and Li Xiangyuan came to participate in this poetry meeting with the prefect's son who also came to the capital.
Just as classmate Li Xiaodao was waving ink with her little hands and silently writing fifteen Tang poems, Li Xiangyuan also wrote a poem.
The grass on the Suxi Pavilion is long, who leans against the east wind for twelve seconds. The swallows do not return, and spring is late, and the apricot blossoms are cold in the mist and rain.
It is "Suxi Pavilion" by Dai Shulun, one of the poems written silently by classmate Li Xiaodao.
But Li Xiangyuan didn't say who she copied from. She just pretended to do it for a long time, looking at the grass and the swallows, and then she just started writing as if she was confident.
Coupled with her pretentious and pitiful appearance, her dark eyebrows slightly furrowed, and her unreasonably melancholy expression, it even echoes the poetic sentiment.
The assistant teacher of the Imperial Academy suddenly felt soft in his heart. This girl is so talented that it hurts the heart of those who are hurt.
So with a wave of his hand, he changed the name of the pavilion at home: Suxi Pavilion.
The song "Su Xi Pavilion" suddenly changed the name of the pavilion next to them. This time, Li Xiangyuan became even more famous.
The assistant professor of the Imperial College personally invited her to enter the girls' school, and agreed to get her an invitation letter to the poetry meeting held by Prince Zhuang and Princess Zhuang.
Princess Zhuang is the legitimate daughter of Prince Jingguo, one of the three great literary families. She has been outstanding in playing, playing, chess, calligraphy and painting since she was a child. She is known as the most talented woman in the capital.
When she was still in her boudoir, she took the lead in holding a poetry party: Hui Xiangyuan Poetry Society.
Those who can participate in the poetry meeting are all famous ladies, and occasionally there are ladies from poor families, but they are all talented people.
The assistant teacher of the Imperial College felt that Li Xiangyuan was a talented person, so he agreed wholeheartedly because Prince Zhuang and Princess Zhuang were also his distant cousins and could speak well.
Li Xiangyuan and the others arrived in the capital just the day before yesterday. Before their home was settled, she hurriedly attended the poetry meeting held by the assistant professor of the Imperial College.
Although she was a little anxious, she was very satisfied.
Relying on the poems in the booklet she remembered, she successfully attracted the attention of the assistant teacher of the Imperial College.
Next, if she catches the eye of Princess Zhuang, she can successfully integrate into the circle of high-ranking ladies.
If you want to climb up, you have to look up.
Li Xiaodao's poems were still treasured by the Imperial Academy Jijiu and Yang Shilang. They were still selfishly admiring them secretly before they had time to spread them.
However, Li Xiangyuan's "Su Xi Pavilion" has already reached the hands of Princess Zhuang.
Although I don’t know what the twelve lans are? Maybe it means that people are leaning on the railing and blowing the east wind, so they come to suit the occasion.
"When the swallows don't return, it's late in spring, and the apricot blossoms are cold in the misty rain."
"What a Yiting Yanyu, what a Xinghuahan,"
"The swallows have not yet returned to their old nests, and the beautiful spring is almost over. There is only a patch of smoke and rain left, and the apricot blossoms are cold."
Prince Zhuang and Princess Zhuang thought that she had just turned twenty, but the prince had started to stay overnight on the first and fifteenth day of the Lunar New Year.
A feeling of empathy made her even more interested in the "author" of this poem, Li Xiangyuan.
"Well, she is a talented woman."
Princess Zhuang nodded, and the invitation to the poetry meeting was written and presented by a servant.