As soon as Lu Junda said these words, he basically put Zhu Ben on the fire.
If he answers even slightly wrongly, I'm afraid his reputation will be ruined in Qiandu City from now on.
Zhang Han couldn't stand it anymore. Although Lao Zhu was a bit flamboyant and domineering, after all, he was still his brother.
You can bully yourself, but outsiders come, sorry, no!
He was about to stand up immediately, but just when he wanted to stand up, he was held down firmly by a hand.
It was Li Changkong. Then, instead of Zhang Han, he stood up and said loudly:
"I taught Zhu Ben to compose this poem. It's my intention to say that your poem is inferior to shit. Is there any problem?"
When Lu Junda heard this, he became even more angry. There was someone else helping this person, right?
Then today I will make all of you lose face!
"If this poem is really written by the young master, Junda will naturally not dare to say more than a word."
"I just don't know how you can prove to yourself that this poem was written by you."
"It's simple. Didn't your teacher say it? Just write another song that fits the theme."
When Lu Junda heard this, he frowned slightly. This man was so calm and calm. Did he really have something to rely on, or was he just trying to make a fool of himself?
“Young master, please do it!”
"Then do you want to listen to poems about the moon, or write poems about autumn?" Li Changkong raised his eyes, quite bored.
Seeing his appearance, Lu Junda was finally sure that this person must be trying to make a fool of himself!
If you only write one song, you will believe it. But this person just went too far and wanted to write two songs. In this case, I will grant your wish and let's see how you get off the stage.
"Since the young master is so elegant, why not sing two songs together?" Lu Junda said with a smile, which made him feel chilled.
Li Changkong, as if turning a deaf ear, nodded and said, "Just wait and listen!"
"I'm all ears." Lu Junda was very flexible. This poem about autumn has been written badly by countless literati from ancient times to the present.
By that time, no matter how well this person writes, it is not an exaggeration to say that it is a cliché and has nothing new.
In this way, how can it surpass his own poem about chanting the moon?
Lu Junda had a good idea, but Li Changkong didn't even look at him. He spoke directly and said loudly: "
Since ancient times, autumn has been a sad and lonely time. I say that autumn is better than spring.
A crane flies above the clouds in a clear sky, bringing poetry to the blue sky!"
Another four sentences of twenty-eight characters, a short poem, made Lu Junda stunned on the spot, his face turned red, and he couldn't say even half a word.
The "clichés and clichés" that I had thought of before seemed to be rotten in my stomach, and I couldn't squeeze them out.
How could this person write such a poem?
Since ancient times, people have written about the sad spring and autumn.
But this man actually did the opposite and bluntly said that autumn is better than spring.
Such a poem, not to mention anything else, can make people admire it just because of its conception.
He knew in his heart how good the poem he had just done was just right.
How can we overcome such a pioneering work?
Lu Junda swallowed, a little embarrassed, and could only say: "Where is the second song?"
"Looking forward to your master's great work!"
I can only place my hope on the second song. In fact, there is something Zhu Ben said very well: inspiration!
Scholars must pay attention to inspiration when writing poems. Often many scholars cannot do it, even some long-famous Confucian scholars cannot do it to compose an exquisite poem on the spot!
Therefore, for a grand poetry gathering like this, everyone usually thinks about the poems ten and a half days in advance before attending the meeting.
Therefore, Lu Junda does not think that Li Changkong's second poem can be as innovative and innovative as the first one.
As long as you show a little mediocrity, you can find the mistakes yourself.
In addition, the master is also present. When the time comes, it is not impossible to use his old man's face to turn defeat into victory and regain the situation.
However, as soon as Li Changkong opened his mouth, he regretted it and realized that he seemed to have made a fundamental mistake.
I saw the conspicuous young man in white, standing on the high platform, facing the scrutiny of many young talents and poets, but he did not show any timidity at all, and recited loudly: "
When will the bright moon come? Ask the blue sky with my wine. I don’t know what year it is in the palace in the sky. I want to ride the wind back, but I am afraid that the towers and jade buildings will be too cold up there. I will dance to clear the shadows, how can I feel like I am in the human world.
Turning around the Zhu Pavilion, looking down at the door, the light is sleepless. There should be no hatred, so why do we have to be reunited when we say goodbye? People have joys and sorrows, and the moon waxes and wanes. This is a difficult thing in ancient times. I hope that people will live long and share the beauty of the moon thousands of miles away."
Gudong!
There were countless swallowing sounds at the scene. Everyone looked at the man in white on the high platform, and even had the illusion that this man was a fairy from the moon who came down to earth.
I'm afraid that only when I was banished to immortality could I be able to write such words.
"How do you like my poem?" After reciting it, Li Changkong looked at Lu Junda and asked.
When Lu Junda heard this, his whole body was shaking like chaff, his face was ashen, his upper and lower lips kept opening and closing, but he couldn't say a single word.
"Okay! This poem must be the best poem for the Mid-Autumn Festival! As soon as Mr. Li's poem comes out, I am afraid that we, the scholars, will have no poems to write for the Mid-Autumn Festival in the future!"
These words were naturally not spoken by Lu Junda, but a loud voice coming from the crowd.
Li Changkong followed the sound and saw a familiar figure - Li Shanchang, who was offering wine at the Imperial Academy!
This person is quite famous among scholars, and Li Changkong's water-melody song "When Will the Moon Come" is indeed surprisingly good.
For a moment, everyone couldn't help but start to praise him.
"Li Jijiu is right. This poem by Mr. Li is full of joys and sorrows, and the ebb and flow of clouds and sunshine. I am afraid that if you ask scholars like me, I will have no words to write about the Mid-Autumn Festival in the future!"
"Hahaha, that's great. The fact that such a word came out shows that I am better than the old in the literary world, and each generation is getting better and better!"
Lu Junda's expression was a little distorted when he heard this sincere and effortless compliment.
Compared to Li Changkong, who was dressed in white and received all the attention, he was like a rat in the gutter.
Even the weak candlelight that illuminated the high platform was so dazzling that he couldn't open his eyes.
Fortunately, at this moment, Lu Heng spoke.
"These two poems are good if they are good."
"To be honest, I'm afraid that even if I study hard for more than ten years, I may not be able to write the same poems as Mr. Li."
When Lu Junda heard this, he frowned and gritted his teeth. His anger was like a rising flame that was difficult to extinguish.
Is it possible that even the teacher thinks highly of this person?
"It's just that at such a young age, how can Mr. Li be able to write such good poems?"
The next moment, Lu Heng changed his words, completely pushing Li Changkong to the forefront.
"In other words, how can Mr. Li prove that these two poems were written by you and were not borrowed from others?"
Giving the sweet dates first and then the big stick is a compliment.
Li Changkong narrowed his eyes and looked at Lu Heng.