Just when Chen Shaokang was at a loss with his mother, the specific scene of his failure at Ding Minru's place had been slowly told to Su Nianyun by Grandma Liu...
As the weather got hotter and hotter, scholars and talented ladies in Beijing began to hold frequent poetry gatherings.
Some poetry gatherings are held to discuss literary talent, while others are held to resolve life-long issues.
Ding Mingqing, the eldest son of Count Guangyu's family, planned the former.
Therefore, most of the people he invited were literati and talented people, some of whom came from noble families and some from poor families.
Hearing from his close friends that Ding Mingqing was going to hold a poetry meeting and that Ding Minru would also go there, Chen Shaokang also asked his friends to take him along.
Speaking of which, this was the first time that Chen Shaokang took the initiative to ask to participate in a poetry meeting.
But his friends were not optimistic about him.
Firstly, Chen Shaokang's literary talent is average, and secondly, his eldest brother passed away not long ago, and he is still in the period of filial piety.
"Brother Chen, I think it's better for you to wait for a while before participating in the poetry meeting..." my friend reminded me in a friendly way.
"I know you are worried that I will be sad because of my elder brother, but I am completely fine, really."
Chen Shaokang said, "Didn't you say that this time is mainly an exchange of literary talents? I also want to make progress."
The friend was a little helpless. He was not concerned about whether Chen Shaokang could bear the blow of losing his eldest brother, but he was worried that if he went to a place like this during his filial piety, he would arouse criticism.
But since Chen Shaokang himself doesn't care about this, why should he care about it?
"Okay, we'll be at Wangyue Tower in three days. If you want to come, you can come!"
Anyway, Ding Shizi's poetry meeting was prepared for talented people, and there was no threshold limit. He just came to it.
After saying goodbye to his friends at the teahouse, Chen Shaokang returned home and thought about how to attract Ding Minru's attention at the poetry meeting.
While he was lost in thought, he suddenly bumped into someone.
A large number of calligraphy and paintings held in the man's arms were scattered on the ground.
He didn't care about the person he collided with, and just hurriedly picked up the things scattered on the ground.
While picking up things, he said heartbrokenly.
"Oh, my paintings, my poems...oh, they are all stained. I want to sell them for money..."
Chen Shaokang said displeased, "You understand, it was you who hit me. I didn't even say anything, but you just kept complaining. Are you okay?"
The man turned a deaf ear and patted the stained calligraphy and painting with distress.
Seeing this scene, Chen Shaokang was furious. The guy was picking something up at his feet, and he trampled a scroll to pieces.
"Ah, my painting, you are too much, why do you want to crush my painting!"
"You notice me now?"
Chen Shaokang grabbed his collar and said, "You hit me, did you hear that?"
The man said, "So what? I don't have any money on me, only these paintings and calligraphy. Anyway, you trampled one to pieces, so how about I make amends to you?"
Chen Shaokang looked at the man carefully and saw that his clothes were covered with patches, and when he pulled at them, they seemed to be about to tear.
He couldn't help but let go of his hand in disgust, "I can't help but crush a painting, so why not..."
As he spoke, he raised his foot to step on other paintings.
"No!" The poor scholar hurriedly used his body to block the unfinished scroll on the ground.
Chen Shaokang also stopped.
He stopped, not because of weakness, but because of a piece of poetry on the ground.
It seemed to be a poem mourning a loved one. The words were euphemistic and sad, and there was sadness everywhere.
The true feelings in it make people want to cry after reading it.
Chen Shaokang bent down and picked up the poem, "You wrote good poems!"
"You..." Seeing what Chen Shaokang meant, the man was stunned, "What do you mean?"
"I bought it!"
"This is what I wrote when I was mourning my relatives. It is not for sale. If you want to buy it, you can choose from my paintings..."
Seeing that the other party wants to do business with him, the person immediately forgets the conflict just now.
"No, I don't want calligraphy and painting, I just want poems." Chen Shaokang refused.
"You actually fall in love with the random poems I wrote?"
"I think you have good literary talent. Do you have any other poems?" Looking at the other person's poems, Chen Shaokang suddenly had an idea about the poetry meeting.
The poor scholar asked, "Yes, yes, but first tell me, how much money are you going to spend to buy my poems?"
"If the poem is really good, how about one tael of silver per poem?" Chen Shaokang made an offer that the other party could not refuse.
One tael of silver was a huge sum of money to a poor scholar, but to Chen Shaokang it was really a drop in the bucket.
"But I agreed in advance that if you sell these poems to me, you won't be able to use them in the future!"
"Okay, as long as there is money to be made, you come home with me and I will give it to you."
For poor scholars, of course, they need to make a living first and then talk about their future dreams.
He picked up all the calligraphy and paintings and led Chen Shaokang to a small courtyard in a small alley not far away.
Chen Shaokang followed him into the bedroom with some disgust. He saw that the bedroom was airy and filled with the smell of books.
The scholar grabbed a pile of paper on the table and said, "These are all written in my spare time. See if you like it..."
Although Chen Shaokang cannot write good poetry, it does not mean that he cannot write good poetry.
He flipped through the pile of rough straw paper and found five or six good poems.
Seeing this, he simply stopped picking. Instead, he took out ten taels of silver and said, "This pile, regardless of whether it has words or not, I will take away the ten taels of silver. What do you think?"
"Okay." The scholar accepted the money without thinking.
After getting the things, Chen Shaokang quickly returned to his house, then locked himself in the study and silently recited these poems.
Although he did not go to the poetry gatherings over the years, he also knew that the themes of the poetry gatherings were nothing more than those few, "Spring Flowers and Autumn Moon", "Jiangshan Sheji", "Loyalty to the King and Serving the Country" and so on...
Coincidentally, several of that man's poems touched on these themes.
So as long as he memorizes it, he can show his talents in the crowd.
Sure enough, at the Wangyue Tower Poetry Meeting three days later, the first theme was "spring".
Chen Shaokang was secretly happy. He pretended to be as attentive and thoughtful as everyone else, but in reality he was secretly looking at Ding Minru.
Ever since his mother forcibly tied him and Ding Minru together, the more he looked at Ding Minru, the more he fell in love with her.
Subconsciously, he always felt that he was different from his eldest brother. The eldest brother married someone back but still wanted to escape. No, at least he liked Ding Minru.
But...somehow, when he looked at Ding Minru, the princess could not help but appear in his mind.
That day, the princess came out of the inner room bathing in the sunshine. Her natural and lazy look so fascinated him that he didn't even notice the ink dripping from her pen.
"Brother Chen, Brother Chen..."
"Chen Shaokang..."
Several calls came from distant ears, and Chen Shaokang finally came back to his senses.
"Ah, what's wrong?"
His good friend couldn't laugh or cry, "Everyone else has finished writing, and they are all waiting for your masterpiece!"
Only then did Chen Shaokang realize that he had been distracted for too long and everyone else had finished writing.
He smiled awkwardly, "Sorry, I got lost in thinking about poetry..."
Immediately, I wrote the mourning poem that I had memorized by heart.
On such an occasion, people know about his literary talent and his deep friendship for his elder brother...
There is simply no better occasion to express yourself than this.