The national teacher does not practice

Chapter 102 Completing the Hundred Years' Broken Chapter (Leader Adds More)

"What's the matter?" Qi Hongmian raised his eyebrows.

Luan Yu replied: "On the day Huaiyuan arrived in Shendu, Baita Temple sent a greeting card."

Baitasi...Qi Hongmian raised a little bit of interest, and on her impeccable oval face, the corners of her mouth were raised, revealing her white teeth, and she smiled inexplicably:

"understood."

After Luan Yu left, Qi Hongmian turned his attention to a thin book in his hand again.

On the cover, there are three words "Liu Li Zhuan" written on it.

"Heh... Buddhism."

……

……

Noon the next day.

After lunch, Ji Pingan and Huang He changed into ordinary green shirts and went to the agreed place to gather.

The Wenhui will officially start in the afternoon, warm up in the morning, and will continue until the evening.

When Ji Ping'an arrived, he saw two carriages parked. There were not many disciples in the Muyuan, so they could sit there.

"Here here!"

In the car ahead, Mu Yaoyao's head poked out from the curtain, and her white and tender hands greeted him.

Huang He was still driving, his eyes lit up as he got into the spacious carriage.

I saw a jade beauty sitting in the main seat of the carriage, with a straight nose and brush-like eyelashes. Is it Xu Xiurong or who?

It's just different from the past, the female eunuch is not wearing an official robe, but an ordinary woman's long skirt, and her hair is fixed with a hairpin.

And beside him, sitting impressively was a thin girl.

"Luo Huaizhu?" Ji Pingan was surprised, "Why are you here?"

On the one hand, this is the gathering of disciples of Noki Academy.

Second, with this "Taoist" personality, I really can't imagine that she would be interested in "Wenhui".

Xu Xiurong glanced at him and said:

"I ordered Yaoyao to pull her over by force. You should relax in your practice. The gods will reward you soon, so you should relax."

Luo Huaizhu didn't say a word, his eyes focused on the air, and it seemed that he was wandering in the sky, thinking about cultivation.

No... I think her body is here, but her soul has already flown away... Ji Pingan shook his head and sighed softly.

As he sat down, the carriage slowly drove out of Qin Tianjian, and walked along the spacious avenue towards Chang'an Avenue.

……

Wenxuan Building is near the intersection of Chang'an Avenue and Zhuque Street, and it is also one of the most prosperous areas in Shendu.

Today, with it as the core, the surrounding pavilions are all under the umbrella of large and small cultural associations.

As soon as the carriage drove in, it seemed to be stuck in a quagmire, making it difficult to move forward.

They had no choice but to stop in a secluded place, Xu Xiurong ordered that everyone disband on the spot, play separately, and return at an agreed time.

A number of disciples left together, and in the end there were only three girls left, one big, one young, two young, and the lazy Ji Pingan did not move.

Huang He originally wanted to stay and follow the young master, but when he saw this scene, he thought about it and left in a muffled voice.

Only four people were left walking in the crowd.

Except for Ji Ping'an, the other three were all very good-looking, and immediately attracted a lot of amazed eyes. When they saw Ji Ping'an, they turned to envy and hatred.

Ji Pingan didn't care about those gazes, and walked slowly, only to see a lively scene, the long street was full of people and noisy.

On both sides of the ancient buildings, wine flags are fluttering, and it is still far away from the Wenhui. There are long snack vendors on both sides of the street, selling food.

On the other side, the shops along the street are hung with lanterns and all kinds of gadgets are also placed.

The sound of selling, laughing and shouting is mixed together, making it very lively.

"so many people……"

Mu Yaoyao's two eyes were not enough, she was darting left and right, and even Luo Huaizhu, who was distracted, was attracted, showing a curious look.

After all, it is still a "person", not a "daoist" abstracted into a symbol.

"Hey, look at those vendors hanging poems."

At this time, Mu Yaoyao suddenly pointed to the shops and vendors selling all kinds of gadgets on the side of the road.

Different from the common small stalls in the past, many stalls today have wooden poles and red strings, and poems are hung on them. It is a bit similar to guessing lantern riddles on the Lantern Festival, but it is different.

On each piece of paper, there are verses or words written, but they are not complete, or the previous sentence is missing, or the next sentence is missing, and there is even a space for two words in the middle of a line of text.

There are so many different things.

A group of scholars gathered around, shaking their heads and reciting something, and it became a landscape on this street.

Xu Xiurong pursed his lips and explained:

"This is the remnant of a poem written by the National Teacher in the past. Throughout the literary society, these merchants will come to join in the fun. In order to attract scholars to stop, they will collect the remnant sentences and hang them outside. Usually, there will be a lot of money.

"For example, if someone fills it in, as long as the filled sentences are good, and they don't make it up mechanically, they will give some gadgets, which is an attractive way."

She immediately told the story of the many incomplete poems handed down by the national teacher who fought in all directions in the past, and called it a game among literati.

Mu Yaoyao let out an "Ah", suddenly realized, thought for a while, and said:
"Then over the past few hundred years, hasn't it been supplemented a lot for future generations? Can you collect some to fill in, and you can win the lottery?"

Xu Xiurong raised a finger, tapped her forehead, and said with feigned anger:
"I want you to use your brain more and don't think about eating all day long. The store dares to do this because it is naturally familiar with the widely circulated completion sentences. If you copy it, wouldn't it be embarrassing to point it out in public? Scholars care most about it." face."

Mu Yaoyao was very disappointed, and looked helplessly at the mask that was used to make a lottery at the stall.

Luo Huaizhu also tilted his head, staring at a cloth tiger and stopping.

Seeing Xu Xiurong was angry and funny:

"Let's go, it's a lottery, it's not for sale."

Luo Huaizhu lowered his eyes in disappointment, and then heard a voice from beside him:
"want to?"

Dao Chi turned his head to the side, looked at Ji Pingan with a calm expression, thought for a while, and nodded:
"want to."

Ji Pingan smiled, walked over, tore off a piece of paper with fragments of poems, picked up the ink pen placed on the table by the businessman, and pretended to write a question.

The scholar next to him saw this and looked over curiously.

The stall owner was also surprised:

"Young master is confident, so he chose a difficult one. This Qingping sentence only has the following two sentences, but the first half is missing. It is the most difficult to make up..."

He deliberately spoke loudly to attract the attention of people on the street.

At the same time read the second half of the sentence:
"If you don't meet at the top of Qunyu Mountain, you will meet at Yaotai under the moon."

Just about to explain and comment, Ji Pingan has already written a book:

Yun Xiang's clothes are beautiful and beautiful, and the spring breeze is blowing.

Putting down the pen, he pointed to the three-color cloth tiger, and said gently:

"Bring that tiger, please."

The surrounding crowd became more and more surprised. They didn't expect the young man to be so confident, as if he was convinced that the poem he added met the conditions.

"Yunxiang's clothes are beautiful, Xiangrong's clothes are beautiful, and the spring breeze is blowing on the threshold of Revlon... If you don't meet at the top of Qunyu Mountain, you will meet at Yaotai under the moon."

The stall owner is also literate, so he can murmur and show surprise on his face.

With his level, it is not enough to distinguish between high and low, but he instinctively feels that it is very appropriate, as if the original sentence should be like this.

"I want it too, I want it too!"

Mu Yaoyao charged like a bull, pushed away the crowd, and pitifully tugged at Ji Ping'an's sleeve.

Ji Pingan smiled, thought for a while, and tore off two more poems, a broken poem and a fragmented poem.

Still without thinking, continue casually:
The west wind blows the old Dongting waves, and Xiangjun has many gray hairs overnight.When drunk, I don't know the sky is in the water, and the boat is full of clear dreams, pressing down on the galaxy.

Turn your wrist slightly, pick up the pen and continue:
Teenagers don't know what it's like to be sad, and fall in love with upper floors.Fall in love with the upper floors, and worry about writing new words.Now that I know all the sorrow, I want to say it.I want to say goodbye, but I say it's a cool autumn.

The word is completed, and the pen is cast.

Ji Pingan pointed to the monkey mask and a bracelet, and said gently:
"Trouble, pack these three things up."

"what……"

The stall owner, Fang Fu, came back to his senses now, and looked at him suspiciously, thinking that it might be the Wenqu star from the Imperial College who came to ruin the scene...

Not daring to delay, as if afraid that the son in front of him would continue to write, he hastily took three items and stuffed them for him.

Ji Pingan smiled, and stuffed the monkey mask to Mu Yaoyao, the cloth tiger to Luo Huaizhu, and finally handed the bracelet to Xu Xiurong.

Under the surprised eyes of the female prisoner Hou, she whispered:
"I saw you staring at it for a few breaths, and then took it back."

Xu Xiurong was stunned for a moment, and said with complicated eyes: "You never said that you can write poems."

Ji Pingan saw that the movement here attracted the attention of the surrounding people, and hurriedly led the three of them away, with an innocent face:
"I don't know, this is what the national teacher told me back then."

Seeing that the female star officer was still staring at him, he laughed and said:
"Let's go, there are still a lot of gadgets ahead, if you want to tell me, we don't need to spend money, this is called buying."

Mu Yaoyao became excited when she heard that, Luo Huaizhu hugged a cloth tiger, tilted her head, the corners of her mouth slowly raised, very happy.

Xu Xiurong bit his lip and looked at him, then laughed too.

The four quickly squeezed through the crowd, and in the process accidentally met a scholar wearing a Confucian shirt with red lips and white teeth.

Almost bumped into each other.

"Feel sorry!"

Han Qingsong bowed his hands in apology, and waited for the four of them to leave before he let out a deep breath, with a gloomy look on his delicate face.

Today's Wenxuanlou Wenhui, logically speaking, as a disciple of Yunhuai Academy, he should have participated in the literary battle there.

However...Han Qingsong's swordsmanship is top-notch, and his writing is not bad, but his poetry is rather mediocre.

Unable to participate in the war to make Huaiyuan famous, but the hateful Qin Leyou is quite good at it.

Han Qingsong sat in Wenxuan Pavilion for a while, watching the group of literati in the academy and the Hanlin Academy flirt with each other, but he couldn't say anything, feeling frustrated.

Depressed, he simply found an excuse to get some air.

Anyway, the Wenhui will last for a few hours, so he will go back later.

"what?"

At this time, Han Qingsong suddenly noticed the commotion in the crowd ahead, and many scholars blocked in front of a vendor.

The sounds of exclamation, admiration, and inquiries and discussions were mixed together, which was extremely eye-catching.

What happened?

Han Qingsong's curiosity was aroused, he held on to the hilt of the sword at his waist, squeezed away from the crowd, and patted the next scholar on the shoulder:

"Brother, please ask me, what happened?"

The scholar looked excited:
"Just now there was a young son who continued to write and complete three famous poems by Master Guoshi in one breath. It is extremely amazing, and I have only seen it in my life."

Han Qingsong looked suspicious, and let out a "huh", thinking that the scholars in Shendu are not very knowledgeable.

Over the past hundred years, there have been countless sequels to the famous works of the National Teacher, and there are also many outstanding ones.

Some people even claim that later generations have exhausted the remaining poems, which means:

No one could have written it better.

What good sentences can this street stall make?It is probably because these scholars have never seen the world.

Han Qingsong shook his head, turned around arrogantly, and was about to leave.

At this time, there were probably too many people crowding to watch, and the stall owner couldn't bear it anymore, so he shouted loudly, suppressing the crowd's voice, and then recited Ji Ping'an's completed sentences aloud.

The next moment, Han Qingsong's original steps stopped, and his whole body seemed to be restrained.

Shortness of breath, the skin under the sleeves of the Confucian scholar's robe formed a fine layer of pimples, and his face flushed with excitement.

"This poem..."

He turned his head in horror and stared at the crowd, as if he saw something unbelievable.

(End of this chapter)