"It is said that Songzhou's poetry and literary works are the best in the world, and Bianliang's poetry and literary works are the best in Songzhou."
"When I saw him today, he realized that despite his great reputation, it is hard to live up to his reputation!"
An arrogant laughter suddenly sounded, full of ridicule, instantly attracting the attention of everyone present.
Looking towards the source of the sound, I saw a young man in white lying on the suspended jade tower.
He held a jug of wine in his right hand and drank the wine slowly. He looked content and content, somewhat like a madman.
Seeing everyone's sarcastic, doubtful, and angry looks, the young man raised his wine bottle and sipped his drink, his eyes slightly narrowed, as if he didn't take everyone's attention to heart.
"What, you're not convinced?"
"When it comes to poetry attainments, everyone here is rubbish, none of them can beat you!"
The young man's arrogant voice sounded again, his eyes full of disdain.
"I heard from your Excellency that your poetry attainment far exceeds ours. I wonder if there are any good works passed down to the world?"
Wang Zilang's eyes flashed with cold light and he said coldly.
This prince Lang was arrogant and headstrong, so naturally he could not tolerate the arrogance of the young man in white.
"Songzhou will never allow such crazy people to exist!"
Chai Shirong's eyes were deep and full of malice when he looked at the boy in white, and he decisively chose to add insult to injury.
After a pause, he continued: "In my opinion, if this brother is so confident, he must have at least dozens of excellent works handed down to the world, right?"
"Hiss!"
Everyone present could not help but gasp when they heard this.
Chai Shirong is so cruel, he wants to push the boy in white into the corner!
What is a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation?
It can be spread to at least one state, where visions are created in nature, heard in the streets and known in the streets, left in the history, and passed down for thousands of years.
Songzhou is known as the origin of poetry. Over the past tens of thousands of years, only a hundred or so poems have been handed down to the world.
Even the great Confucians of the time would not dare to say that they could compose a poem that would be handed down from generation to generation.
There are dozens of masterpieces handed down from generation to generation. Even if all the great scholars in the world work together, they may still be powerless!
If the young man in white clothes cannot come up with a few masterpieces that will be handed down from generation to generation, his reputation in Bianliang City and even Songzhou will be discredited.
For scholars, tarnishing their literary reputation is the biggest punishment.
Although we know that it is not the behavior of a gentleman to take pleasure in others' misfortunes, for some reason, everyone feels quite happy!
"These scholars really kill without blood!"
On the platform, Master Li stroked the black hair hanging in front of him, his eyes moved, and he looked at the young man in white with a half-smile.
In Li Shishi's spiritual perception, the aura of the young man in white was vague and connected to heaven and earth, making it impossible to discern its reality.
It would not be a bad thing if he could take advantage of the power of everyone present to show his flaws.
She came to Bianliang City this time, but she had a heavy responsibility. The appearance of an unknown strong man would naturally arouse her vigilance.
There is no need for her to personally test it, Master Li is happy to watch the fun, no matter how hard she fights, she will eventually achieve her goal.
Suddenly, everyone's eyes were on the young man in white, whether it was the scholar monk or the maid waiting on the cloud platform.
They stared at the young man in white without blinking. The bright moonlight shone on the jade tower, condensing and not scattering, giving the young man in white a layer of mysterious color.
Looking carefully, under the interplay of light and darkness, everyone could vaguely see an indescribable desolation.
The loneliness that comes from the depths of the soul and the incompatible temperament are particularly eye-catching.
"What a pity!"
"Deserve it!"
"You deserve it!"
Everyone had different thoughts, and some were even whispering.
"Copying ancient poems, this is a famous scene for time travellers."
This young man in white clothes is not someone else, but the ghost of Jiang Qian.
Jiang Gan is also quite satisfied with the assists provided by Wang Zilang and Chai Shirong. The effect of this contrast will be even better!
Jiang Qian took another sip and threw the wine bottle onto the lake outside Yuntai, causing a circle of water to rise.
He rolled up his sleeves and stood up, his eyes swept over everyone and finally landed on Chai Shirong.
"Since you asked sincerely, I will tell you with great compassion that there are currently no masterpieces handed down to the world."
Without waiting for Wang Zilang, Chai Shirong and others to retort, he waved his sleeves and continued with a relaxed and carefree expression, "A masterpiece handed down from generation to generation does not just have to be spoken!"
Looking at the surprised or disdainful looks of everyone, Jiang Gan directly sang:
"The beauty rolled up the beaded curtain and sat deeply with her eyebrows furrowed. But when she saw wet tears, she didn't know who she hated."
As Jiang Gan finished reciting, the stars of Wenqu appeared in the sky, and the mighty stars of Wenqu fell from the sky, covering a radius of hundreds of miles, creating a strange phenomenon of poetry.
Under the bright moon in the sky, a stunning beauty rolled up the beaded curtain and sat alone in her boudoir, with her eyebrows furrowed. She could see tear stains on her beautiful face, and she didn't know who she hated in her heart.
The deep resentment and longing made everyone within a hundred miles feel inexplicably sad and could not help but shed tears.
"Visions are made in heaven, masterpieces handed down from generation to generation, how is this possible?"
"I must be dreaming?"
"Am I still awake?"
…
Everyone within the scope of the vision was excited. This is a rare poem handed down from generation to generation in a century!
Wang Zilang was stunned, his face full of disbelief;
Chai Shirong was stunned, as if he was in a dream;
Zhao Ji was shocked, his eyes full of admiration;
Master Li was crazy, his eyes were full of confusion...
Everyone looked at Jiang Qian with different expressions. Their eyes were full of solemnity, and there was no trace of contempt or ridicule.
Everyone present has the ability to appreciate it, so they can naturally see that this little poem is unique. It seems simple, but the more you chew on it, the more you will have endless aftertaste.
The beauty's expression is used to describe the resentment, and the hatred is used to set off the longing and love. This shows the strangeness of the creative techniques and angles.
What's more, the appearance of the poetic vision represents Wenquxing's recognition of this little poem.
It is said that in the year of Shen Zhou, the world was in chaos, Confucian saints ascended to heaven, Taoism transformed literature and music, and Confucianism and Taoism flourished in the world.
The emergence of Wenquxing represents the recognition of Confucian sages. Naturally, no scholar dares to refute it at the risk of the world's disapproval.
Jiang Gan waved his sleeves like wings, and his whole body was covered with bright moonlight, as if he had banished an immortal to the mortal world.
He stared at Wang Zilang and others with half-smiling eyes, and said word by word: "Everyone, how is this poem? Can it be regarded as a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation?"
Veins popped up on Wang Zilang's forehead, his face was distorted, his teeth were clenched, and his voice was squeezed out from between his teeth.
"Of course it is a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation, but there is only one song, but it cannot convince us."
When Jiang Gan heard this, the smile in his eyes became even stronger. Today is the big occasion for him to become famous.
When he copied "Tianlong", he did not realize the happiness of Duke Wen Chao. But at this time, he did realize the happiness of Duke Wen Chao.
Under the illumination of Wenqu Starlight, his soul became more pure and flawless, and began to transform into a flesh and blood body, with a faint vitality faintly exuding from his whole body.
The Yin God derives flesh and blood, which is a characteristic of the third-grade ghost fairyland. In other words, Jiang Gan's Yin God already possesses part of the essence of ghost fairy.
This is of immeasurable benefit to the cultivation of immortality!