Madam, don't do this!

Chapter 63 Death Bell (First Order)

Young people do not know the taste of sorrow, they love the upper floors. They love the upper floors, and force themselves to express sorrow in order to write new poems!
Now that I know all the sorrow, I want to stop talking. I wanted to give it up, but I said it was a cool autumn.

This poem, let alone compared to the 'masterpieces' of the many talented poets present, could not even be found in the past thirty years. Normally, the presence of such a lyric, worthy of being passed down through the ages, should have been met with praise, but at this moment, there was a deathly silence.

Pairs of eyes always swept over Song Yun inadvertently, some looked angry, some sneered, and some were jealous without any concealment.

No wonder Song Yun was covered in cold sweat and refused to take out the poem before. Was he afraid of being beaten? This time he scolded everyone present. After all, they had just expressed their sorrow and grief for the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl in their poems.

Even Fang Jun's face was gloomy to the extreme. He had been worried just now... and he had extended his worry about the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl to the corrupt officials in Ning's country and the powerful Xiongnu enemy abroad. He was worried about the country and the people. His intention was more than a level higher. He had been smug, but now his whole face felt like it was burning with pain, as if this slap had hit him the hardest.

Are you forcing yourself to be sad in order to write new poems?
Do you dare to be more ruthless?
Even the young ladies in the boudoir had unfriendly expressions, after all, these young ladies wrote the most about their grievances and lovesickness.

Song Yun's body was completely stiff. The moment he forced himself to express his sorrow in order to compose a new poem, he felt a chill rushing from the soles of his feet to his forehead, and his whole body seemed to be frozen.

There was only one word left in my mind: It's over.

It's all over.

He knew that from now on, there would be no place for him in the circle of scholars in Songzhou City. If word spread, he would become a target of public criticism throughout the entire Ningguo literary world. Who hasn't been a youth? Which scholar hasn't written a couple of poems expressing concern for the country and its people?

Fortunately, he had thought that Song Yan was trying to build a good relationship with him and wanted to win him over. Fortunately, he was touched for a moment. It was not until this moment that he realized how vicious Song Yan's mind was.

He used an invisible knife to silently pierce his heart.

"Haha... great words, great words." Finally, Fang Jun's slightly dry voice broke the oppressive silence. He glanced at Song Yun and said with a fake smile: "Brother Song is worthy of being the Song family's Qilin son. When we write poems and lyrics, we can only express sorrow and melancholy. Compared with Brother Song's realm, we are more than a level lower."

"Been taught a lesson."

This "I am learning from you" feels like a murderous act.

Song Yun was really envious of the title of Song family's Qilin son, but now he trembled and just wanted to cry.

"Since you have such a masterpiece, Brother Song should have brought it out long ago. Are we the kind of petty people who would take revenge just because of a poem?"

The person who spoke was Lu Tianrui, a young man from Songzhou. He had just sung a poem titled "Qixi Festival. Boudoir Feelings", which described the Weaver Girl's anxious feelings while waiting for the Cowherd in her boudoir, and also described her reluctance and sadness at separation, which made more than a dozen young ladies cry.

"That's true. We are all scholars and should be broad-minded."

This time, the speaker was Ji Wenxuan, the son of the Tongpan of Songzhou. Most Qixi poems were written from a woman's perspective, or from both male and female perspectives. He was creative and used the perspective of the cowherd to describe the pain of missing his beloved wife but not being able to see her, which also aroused a lot of praise.

Everyone was praising, and everyone was expressing the same meaning: Don't worry, we won't beat you!

The sarcastic tone made Song Yun's scalp tingle.

Seeing that, Song Yan smiled and said, "Brother Shi'an, what does this poem... oh no, it's a lyric, mean?"

Cui Shian let out a breath and glanced at Song Yun with some pity. He was kind-hearted and decided to say a few good words for Song Yun: "This poem is a satire, satirizing some phenomena among today's scholars."

"For example, some scholars have never been to the frontier, never ridden a warhorse, or held a sword, yet they write poems about it."

Several people in the hall blushed.

"It's ironic that some scholars spend their days hanging out in brothels, worrying about the country and the people."

A large number of people, including Fang Jun, blushed.

"It's ironic that some people have never experienced anything, yet they still have to be so hesitant and embarrassed, facing the separation of life and death."

Everyone, including the ladies from wealthy families, blushed.

"Brother Song Yun is a man of high integrity. He wrote this poem to criticize this phenomenon and express his own aspirations. He is ashamed to be associated with these people and feels embarrassed to read the same sage books as them."

Cui Shian felt that he was such a good person. Look, he was praising Song Yun to the sky. He must thank himself.

Song Yun was indeed very grateful to Cui Shian. He was so grateful that he was sweating profusely and his face turned pale. Especially when he saw the increasingly ugly faces of the many scholars around him, he was so excited that he was shaking all over.

Finally, Song Yun couldn't hold it in any longer. He stood up suddenly and said, "I didn't write this lyric." "It was...him!" He pointed at Song Yan and said, "It was Song Yan who wrote it."

In the end, I lost my sense of proportion.

At this time, if he could withstand the pressure, even if he offended people, he could still have a good reputation.

But in fear, I made the most wrong choice.

"You didn't write it?" Fang Jun sneered, "If you didn't write it, why did you admit it before?"

Wu Chen sneered, "Do you think we're all stupid? Besides, hasn't Divine Doctor Song been trapped in the courtyard the entire time? He hasn't even attended the clan school. How did he learn poetry and prose?"

Song Yun was sweating profusely from anxiety: "Everyone, this word is really not mine..."

"Enough." At this moment, an official who was originally responsible for judging the poems of the talented scholars frowned and slammed his hand on the table. "You are a man of courage and integrity. What do you think of yourself? You have completely disgraced the students of Songzhou."

It was Sun Youde, the academician of Songzhou Prefecture. Although Sun Youde was just an old man, he was still very scary when he got angry. Song Yun was immediately silent and dared not say a word.

"You said this wasn't written by you, which means you're passing off someone else's poem as your own. This is such bad behavior. If it gets out, all the students in Songzhou Prefecture will be ashamed because of you. How can you serve the country in the future?"

This is not an exaggeration. In ancient times, the most popular practice was collective punishment.

"Songzhou Prefecture has no place for such despicable and shameless individuals. I hereby declare that, effective immediately, Song Yun's title of scholar is revoked. You may return." Waving his hand casually, Sun Youde clearly didn't want to see Song Yun again... Unlike the others, Sun Youde believed Song Yun's words. After all, he was already in Qun Yuyuan... Ahem, no, it's such a timid person. How could someone so unyielding as to write such a timeless masterpiece? Most likely, he had used some despicable means to force Song Yun to write this poem on him.

The position of the academician is neither big nor small. Normally, he does not have much power, but he happens to be in charge of the students in a state, so he does have the right to revoke academic titles.

Song Yun's body trembled violently. He had wanted to make a splash at the Qixi Festival party, but who would have thought that in the end he would lose even his title as a scholar?
This scene is so familiar, as if I lost my fiancée last time.

It was as if all his energy had been drained away. Song Yun looked much smaller and sluggish, and his chest felt empty. He could no longer hear the rustling sounds around him, which were mostly mockery of him.

The gaze was like a sword, piercing Song Yun's entire body and causing him pain.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no sound came out.

He could hardly stand and stumbled, not even knowing how he got out of the pine garden. His head was buzzing like a death knell.

As soon as I got outside, the cold wind made me feel a little more awake.

He looked around and found that the servant who came with him was nowhere to be found. He also didn't know how to drive a horse, so he gritted his teeth and ran towards the city gate.

He couldn't stay in Songzhou any longer. Those young masters might not kill him, but he would definitely be beaten up... However, he was not worried about those angry young masters, he was afraid of... Song Yan.

He believed that Song Yan must have other means, and it was definitely not just as simple as ruining his reputation.

That person wanted his life.

……

"I am not a big drinker and I am afraid I cannot keep you company. I will take my leave now." On the other side, in the garden, the deputy driver Lu Tianrui put down the teacup in his hand, stood up and said so.

Then he clasped his fists towards the people around him, turned around and left, with several people following him.

We were clearly drinking tea before, but this excuse was a bit lame.

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(End of this chapter)