The Song Dynasty was the king for thirteen years before he knew that he was Tianlong.

Chapter 384 The Battle of Beauties (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

The group looked at each other, puzzled. Although there were no restrictions on the genre, the requirement to use Luo Fu's name and include the word "Luo Fu" in the poem was quite a challenge.

Obviously, the word "Luofu" in the conditions is a person's name. It may or may not be related to Miss Luofu, but it is better if it is not related. It is better to create a fictional character to write a poem.

Under such conditions, it is difficult to write short sentences such as five- or seven-character lines, because they are too concise and the description is limited, making them difficult to write.

However, writing lyrics is not easy. Lyrics are a type of poetry called "long and short lines". Short lines are too short, and long lines have complex rhymes, making them difficult to improvise.

Then I had to write ancient-style ballads, but that wasn't easy either, as most ancient-style ballads contain a story within them.

The stories revolve around specific characters, events, or scenes, with plot and narrative, expressing life's emotions or some moving events. They are close to life, with a vivid atmosphere and appeal, which is what makes Yuefu poetry.

As for the few lyrical works that don't include any, that's because they don't specifically describe people. However, works that use people as their subject matter and include their names are not considered a minority.

In other words, you have to make up a story before you can write a poem, which is too tedious and not something you can do spontaneously.

It's not easy to write a story, and once you do, you have to turn it into poetry. The poetry then has to depict the characters, and most stories involve more than one person, which makes it even more difficult.

Historically, narrative poems about people in Yuefu (a type of Chinese folk song) have taken many days, months, or even years to complete. Who could just open their mouth and compose one on the spot?
The crowd stared at each other, no one uttering a sound. Even the commoner students who were quite famous for their poetry in various schools remained silent, their faces full of worry.

Mo Xun blinked and looked at Zhao Ti, only to see that Zhao Ti had a somewhat surprised expression, seemingly lost in thought.

He couldn't help but whisper, "Brother Zhao, do you also feel a little..."

Mo Xun had always been confident in Zhao Ti's poetic talent, not because Yang Jian had made him famous before, but because they had been classmates for several years. He knew that Zhao Ti had the ability to compose poems on the spot. However, Zhao Ti had always been low-key, which was why he was not well-known in the state school. But as a good friend, he knew him very well.

But the questions Luo Fu posed were far too difficult, and he couldn't help but waver at this moment.

Zhao Ti glanced at him and shook his head. It wasn't that the question was difficult, but rather... as soon as the question came up, he pondered for a moment, and verses immediately came to mind. It was as if his inspiration was flowing like a spring, which surprised him greatly.

Has my poetic talent truly reached such a level?
Even with such a difficult question, he can immediately come up with poems, and not just one!
Zhao Ti stroked his chin. This was too strange. Could he be the reincarnation of the Poet Immortal? But that was simply too unbelievable.

It seems that this is the result of my previous hard work in studying. I have accumulated a wealth of knowledge and skills, and now I can write like a god after reading thousands of books.

Seeing that no one spoke, Mo Chou frowned and slowly said, "Brothers, why are you silent? Is there not a single one among us who shares this interest and can compose a poem on the spot?"

A young man with powdered face and flowers in his hair coughed, attracting everyone's attention. It turned out to be the second son of the governor's mansion.

The governor of Yuzhou was named Cheng Zhong. He had two sons and a daughter. His eldest son was an official in the Hanlin Academy in Qianjing, and his youngest daughter was still young.

The second son attending the poetry gathering is named Cheng Yu. He was studying at Tianfu Academy, one of the four great academies in the world, but for some reason, he ran away from the academy back to Yuzhou this year and has been idly wandering around at home.

Seeing that everyone was looking over, Cheng Yu closed his folding fan and looked at Luo Fu, saying, "Sister, since it's about the Poetry Gathering in Qianjing, then I'll be frank. The topic you set is a bit too difficult. I'm afraid even if such a topic were set at the Poetry Gathering, not many people would be able to answer it."

Upon hearing this, everyone nodded in agreement and looked at Luo Fu.

Luo Fu smiled slightly and said, "There will always be someone who can make it. Has my brother forgotten the 'Song of No Sorrow' composed by Young Master Fuyao?"

"The Song of No Sorrow?" Cheng Yu frowned and fell silent.

Upon hearing this, everyone exclaimed "Ah!" and then began to whisper among themselves, with many eyes turning to look at Mo Xun.

Mo Xun couldn't help but rub his forehead, revealing an embarrassed expression. He didn't know where to look, so he could only glance at Zhao Ti.

Then Luo Fu slowly said, "In the middle of September last year, on the banks of the Luo River in Tianyi Pavilion, Young Master Fuyao met Mo Chou, one of the ten most famous beauties in the world. He composed the Mo Chou Song on the spot, a poem of more than a hundred words in a Yuefu style. It was completed in the time it takes to drink a cup of wine and a cup of tea, and it has been talked about by the world ever since. The literary circles are still discussing it to this day."

The expressions on everyone's faces changed. The Mo family, one of the eight great families, had Mo Chou, the eldest daughter of the Mo family. She was one of the ten most famous beauties in the world, with unparalleled beauty and unmatched musical skills. However, she was known for her flawed playing of the zither.

Is this... a real competition? Everyone clicked their tongues, their expressions thoughtful.

Luo Fu and Mo Chou were both among the ten most famous beauties in the land, and their rankings were originally undisputed. However, the emergence of the song "Mo Chou" immediately elevated Mo Chou to a higher position.

Luo Fu wanted to compete, but what other beautiful flowers didn't want to compete as well?
Could anyone on the spot spontaneously compose the Luo Fu Melody? Let alone on the spot, could anyone even compose it at the Qianjing World Poetry Festival?

Fuyao Gongzi is known as one of the Four Great Young Masters of the Great Qian Dynasty, possessing both literary and martial talents. Even if someone could compose a poem at the World Poetry Gathering, could they compare to Fuyao Gongzi's "Mourning Song"? It would be extremely difficult!
"The river flows eastward, and the daughter of Luoyang is named Mochou. At thirteen, Mochou could weave brocade, and at fourteen, she picked mulberry leaves on the southern road..." Luofu recited slowly, her bright eyes sparkling behind her desk.

"Twelve rows of gold hairpins adorn her hair, five patterns adorn her silk shoes, coral hangs from her mirror, gleaming brightly, a servant carries her shoe box, what more could one hope for in life than to marry the King of the East..."

After the song "Mo Chou Qu" was finished, the boat was completely silent. No one could compose one, no one could compose one, and everyone sighed.

Luo Fu's gaze swept over everyone, a hint of disappointment in her eyes. Finally, she looked at Mo Xun and asked, "Brother Mo, has your sister, Miss Mo Chou, been in contact with you?"

Mo Xun smiled wryly and said, "No, Miss Luo Fu knows that I left Luoyang because I made a mistake, and I rarely wrote letters home and didn't keep in touch much."

Zhao Ti looked at Mo Xun in surprise upon hearing this. Although he knew that the other party came from an extraordinary background and should be from a noble family or official, he did not expect that the other party was actually a member of the Mo family, one of the eight great families in the world. But it was no wonder. How could someone who could book a place like Taibai Tower be from an ordinary noble family?

Luo Fu then shifted her gaze to Zhao Ti, and smiled sweetly: "Young Master Zhao, your poetic talent is extraordinary. Would you be willing to compose a poem on this topic?"

Zhao Ti thought for a moment and said, "Okay."

What? As soon as he said this, all the scholars on the boat turned to look at him, some even touching their ears, wondering if they had misheard.

"Young Master Zhao can compose?" Luo Fu's eyes lit up with surprise, her long eyelashes fluttering like small fans. "Since you can compose, Young Master... please compose a poem for me."

Zhao Ti nodded, while Mo Xun beside him looked surprised and quickly refilled his teacup: "Brother Zhao, this will soothe your throat."

Zhao Ti thanked him, took a sip of tea, then got up, lifted his robe, and walked to the front.

At this moment, the expressions on everyone's faces varied: some were astonished, some frowned, some couldn't believe it, but most had expressions of suspicion. Although most of the officials' sons knew of Zhao Ti's name from their families and that he had composed rare masterpieces, it was, after all, just a short poem.

A good article is a gift from nature, a masterpiece that comes by chance. Perhaps this is the only one of its kind, and I will never be able to write anything so good again. As for the current topic, it is impossible for me to be able to handle it, because it is simply too difficult.

Zhao Ti smiled, cupped his hands in greeting to those around him, and said, "I'll make a fool of myself."

After he finished speaking, he didn't look at the crowd again. He took a step with his sleeves behind his back, pondered for a moment, and then said, "The sun rises in the southeast corner, shining on my Qin family's building. The Qin family has a beautiful daughter, named Luofu."

"Good!" Mo Xun slammed his hand on the table: "Music Bureau, it's Music Bureau! Brother Zhao also writes Music Bureau, it seems we're going to have a showdown with Young Master Fuyao!"

Luo Fu's beautiful eyes sparkled, and her face showed surprise. Her slender fingers gently pinched the snow-white teacup, applying a little force, and for a moment it was impossible to tell whether the cup was as white as snow or her fingers as jade.

"Brother Mo," Cheng Yu said displeasedly, "Don't disturb Brother Zhao's poetry. Are you deliberately interfering because you're afraid his poem 'Luo Fu Ci' will overshadow your sister's 'Mo Chou Qu'?"

Mo Xun didn't take it to heart and waved his hand, "Brother Cheng, why do you say that? Brother Zhao and I are like brothers. The better Brother Zhao does, the happier I am."

Zhao Ti then continued reciting: "Luo Fu is skilled in sericulture, picking mulberry leaves in the south corner of the city. She uses green silk to tie the basket, and cassia branches as hooks. Her hair is styled in a low bun, and she wears bright moon pearls in her ears. She wears a light yellow skirt and a purple jacket. When travelers see Luo Fu, they put down their loads and stroke their beards. When young men see Luo Fu, they take off their hats and put on headscarves. Farmers forget their plows, and hoe-wielders forget their hoes. They return home complaining, for they only sat and watched Luo Fu."

Upon hearing this, Luo Fu blushed slightly, her eyes sparkling, and she gently bit her lip.

Looking at Zhao Ti, she thought to herself, "So that day on the Jade Belt Bridge, he wasn't being deliberately frivolous. He was just expressing his feelings and being moved by the scenery. Just like these lines of poetry, I wonder if he thinks I am so wonderful and worthy of praise?"
I've never felt this way before. People have always said I'm incredibly beautiful, but I never really felt it. But after hearing his poem, I don't know why... I suddenly felt that I am indeed naturally beautiful and lovely.

"When the young man saw Luo Fu, he took off his hat and put on his headscarf. The plowman forgot his plow, and the hoe-wielder forgot his hoe. They returned home complaining angrily, for they had only sat and watched Luo Fu." Cheng Yu suddenly slammed his folding fan against his palm and exclaimed, "Excellent, excellent, Brother Zhao's line is excellent, excellent..."

Upon hearing this, Mo Xun said, "Brother Cheng just criticized me, so why are you making such a fuss now? Is it because you are a good friend of Young Master Fuyao and are afraid of being overshadowed by Brother Zhao?"

Cheng Yu chuckled awkwardly, "It's my fault, it's my fault. I saw that Brother Zhao had just caught his breath, so I couldn't help but take this opportunity to recite it. I won't say it anymore, I won't say it anymore."

Zhao Ti continued reciting: "The magistrate comes from the south, his five horses hesitate. The magistrate sends an official to ask whose beautiful daughter she is. The Qin family has a lovely daughter, named Luofu. How old is Luofu? Not yet twenty, but more than fifteen. Magistrate, thank Luofu, would you like to ride with me?"

"Hmm?" Everyone was taken aback upon hearing this and looked at Luo Fu together.

Many Yuefu poems contain stories and allusions, with dramatic plots, life and death separations, love and hate, and sorrow. But this poem sounds a bit too dramatic. It sounds like the magistrate is harassing a commoner. This is rare in Yuefu poems.

Luo Fu's face flushed slightly, her complexion turning pink. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at Zhao Ti, thinking to herself, "What 'expressing feelings on a whim,' what 'moved by the scene'? So it's still frivolous behavior? Is he trying to force Luo Fu into his carriage?"

Then Zhao Ti continued, “Luo Fu spoke before him, saying, ‘How foolish you are, sir! You have your own wife, and I have my own husband. There are over ten thousand riders from the east, and my husband is at the head of the pack. How do you know my husband? He is a white horse following a black colt, with a blue silk ribbon tied to its tail, a gold tassel on its head, a deer-shaped sword at his waist, and a precious carved pot beside his horse.’”

"At twelve, he was a top scholar; at fourteen, a high-ranking official; at sixteen, he raised an army; at eighteen, a champion marquis; at twenty, he lived in a city; he strolled gracefully in the mansion; three thousand guests graced his hall; his name spread throughout ninety states; the whole world spoke of him; Luo Fu's husband was extraordinary!"

Zhao Ti finished reciting the poem in one breath, paused for a few moments, then looked at Luo Fu and smiled slightly, "Miss Luo Fu, the poem is finished. Is it alright?"

Luo Fu's delicate body trembled slightly, her heart pounding wildly. She felt a faint sense of panic, something she had never experienced before. She secretly pondered that the magistrate's teasing words were meant to elicit Luo Fu's own words, expressing both her steadfastness and her husband's extraordinary qualities. It was truly wonderful, truly excellent.

At that moment, the sound of a pin drop could be heard in the boat. Everyone was stunned. This poem, "Luo Fu Ci," not only far surpassed the content of "Mo Chou Qu," but also exceeded it in terms of word count, being more than twice that of "Mo Chou Qu."

Whether in terms of poetic beauty, dramatic plot, or word count, it has already surpassed the "Mo Chou Qu".

"Excellent!" Cheng Yu exclaimed loudly, "Brother Zhao's poem 'The Song of Luo Fu' is truly superb. Even if Young Master Fuyao were here in person, he would have to admit that he is inferior!"

Everyone nodded in agreement, full of praise, and their gazes toward Zhao Ti had changed drastically, now filled with admiration and respect.

A scholar dressed in a blue Confucian robe said, "If this saying were to spread, even if there were no rankings among the top ten beauties in the world, Miss Luofu would still be at the very top."

Luo Fu looked at Zhao Ti with her beautiful eyes, her pretty face showing shyness, and said, "How can these be the same? The Song of Mo Chou was written by Young Master Fuyao for Miss Mo Chou, while Luo Fu's Poem was obtained from a poetry gathering. The story and plot in them have nothing to do with me, so they should not be confused."

The scholar in the blue robe shook his head and smiled, "The content of the Song of Mo Chou has little to do with Miss Mo Chou herself; it is merely a poem to praise a person. Similarly, the Song of Luo Fu can naturally be used to praise Miss Luo Fu."

"That's right," Cheng Yu said. "Brother Zhao composed this poem in front of Miss Luofu, so how could it be unrelated to her?"

Zhao Ti nodded. There was no need to hide it. The woman in the poem was naturally based on Luo Fu, and then described in verse with his imagination.

Seeing Zhao Ti nod, Luo Fu blushed like a peach blossom and said softly, "Thank you for your trouble, Brother Zhao. Please take a seat and rest."

After Zhao Ti returned to the table, Mo Xun looked at him with a smile and said, "Brother Zhao, this poem alone is enough to make you famous."

"Oh..." Zhao Ti smiled and said, "I hope so."

Mo Xun added, "However, Brother Zhao may encounter some trouble in the future."

"Brother Mo's meaning..." Zhao Ti looked thoughtful.

“There has never been a first in literature. Once this Luo Fu Ci is published, it will inevitably be compared with Mo Chou Qu. The evaluation of its quality will inevitably reach the ears of some people, bringing some unnecessary trouble,” Mo Xun said.

"Brother Mo, are you referring to Young Master Fuyao and your elder sister?" Zhao Ti took a sip of tea, which was still warm, and finished composing the poem.

"That's right, but it's not a big deal. Since it's a matter of poetry and literature, there won't be any fighting or killing. With Brother Zhao's talent, he can handle it perfectly well."

Zhao Ti blinked but didn't say anything. He had only written a poem; he hadn't expected it to cause so much trouble.

At this moment, music began to play in the boat. The poem had already been written and hung in a conspicuous place. Everyone appreciated it for nearly half an hour before it ended.

Luo Fu then looked at everyone, her gaze finally settling on Zhao Ti: "Gentlemen, I will now present the second question. Please listen carefully."

Everyone nodded, and then Luo Fu said, "This topic is titled 'Beautiful Woman,' with no other conditions attached, and the style is also arbitrary. Gentlemen... please proceed."

(End of this chapter)