Downstairs of Wenhui.

There are four pavilions on the four sides of the lotus pond, all of which are named Splashing Ink Pavilion.

There were two eunuchs standing in each pavilion.

There are desks and four treasures in the pavilion, which are where these students come to write.

Of course no one came to the pavilion at this moment.

The students gradually became quiet after a burst of cheers.

Although His Royal Highness is presiding over the Mid-Autumn Festival this year, His Royal Highness will be enthroned as emperor next autumn!

If the best poems can be written tonight and can reach the eyes of His Highness the Crown Prince, then after His Highness the Crown Prince becomes the Emperor of Wu next year, he will inevitably appoint a new group of officials.

This is the emperor and his courtiers!

There is no need to take the scientific examination that is like crossing a single-plank bridge, there is no need to spend a lot of money to get recommended by a high-ranking official, there is no need to join a certain faction, you can directly become the emperor's disciple.

This is of course a once-in-a-lifetime good thing.

All the students are gearing up, hoping that luck will befall them.

Three of the four great talents in the state of Wu are no exception.

Ai Hedong, Pu Qianmo, and Tai Zhaohua are three of the four most famous talents in the Wu Kingdom. They are certainly the most popular candidates to win the top three tonight.

The title of this Mid-Autumn Cultural Festival was released by the Imperial College half a month ago.

In fact, all the students and the literati and poets have been brewing their own poems in their hearts during this half month.

However, there were so many people participating in this literary conference, and the competition was certainly more intense, so none of these students and writers went to that particular pavilion to write.

Someone is continuing to think.

There are also people watching around.

Ai Hedong was standing by the lotus pond wearing a Confucian shirt and shaking a paper fan. He looked at Pu Qianmo and Tai Zhaohua and said with a smile:

"Brother Pu, Brother Tai, when are you going to appear?"

Pu Qianmo also shook the paper fan in his hand and said with a smile: "Wait a minute, Brother Ai is already ready?"

Ai Hedong nodded slightly, raised his head to look at the moon, and sighed: "I am prepared, but I am not satisfied."

"It's strange to say that in order to write this poem for the Mid-Autumn Festival, I have carefully pondered the fifteen poems of the poet these days."

He withdrew his gaze, looked at Pu Qianmo, smiled bitterly, and shook his head: "You shouldn't read his poems."

Tai Zhaohua snapped the fan in his hand and asked curiously: "Why?"

"His poems seem to have a kind of magical power that captures the soul. The more they read, the more interesting they become, and the more they read, the more flavorful they become. The more they read...the more they become addicted to the artistic conception between the lines, unable to extricate themselves, and unable to transcend.

His faith comes!”

"Just like the painted spring!"

"Originally, there was no Hua Pingchun in the State of Wu, so the best wine was Liquan."

"But before the two countries turned against each other, some merchants brought Ning Guo's Hua Pingchun to Kyoto, and I was lucky enough to have a drink..."

"Tsk tsk tsk!"

Ai Hedong sighed and shook his head: "Compared between the two, Liquan... is not worth mentioning!"

"The same goes for poetry."

"Before Li Chenan's poems were introduced to the State of Wu, the top three places in the Mid-Autumn Festival in the past five years were almost occupied by our four great talents."

"At that time, I felt that poetry and articles were nothing more than that. We had probably reached the pinnacle, so I felt proud and even wrote a poem and left my name on Wenfeng Pagoda."

"But when his poems were introduced to the Wu State... Fang Xiao's poems could still be so beautiful. Only then did we know that there is a world outside the world and there are people outside the world!"

Pu Qianmo pondered for three breaths and patted Ai Hedong on the shoulder:

"Brother Ai, don't belittle yourself!"

"So what if he is a Shixian? He didn't die at the hands of Ning Guo's own people!"

"I admit that his poetic attainments are extremely high, and few people in the world can match them. However, it is impossible for him to have any more poems handed down to the world. The only ones that remain are the twenty or so poems."

"Besides... I think Brother Ai also knows the importance of this cultural gathering. Why did I wait ten years for Han Chuang?"

"Poems and articles are just a stepping stone!"

"This Mid-Autumn Festival is different from the past. If the three of us can come out on top again, next autumn, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince will ascend the throne as the emperor... Maybe we can rise with the same wind and soar ninety thousand miles in one day!"

"And he, Li Chenan... has long since turned into a cup of loess. This future, whether it is officialdom or the literary world, will eventually belong to us!"

Tai Zhaohua nodded, but unexpectedly Ai Hedong suddenly asked:

"Hey, tell me, Li Chenan's line "The great roc rises with the wind in one day and soars ninety thousand miles away." What does this whole poem look like?

No one knows this.

Because this sentence was said by Li Chenan to the people of Shuzhou before watching a play at Shuijingtai in Chongqing Mansion, Shuzhou.

That's all he said.

But based on the boldness and artistic conception of this sentence, no one can match it.

Pu Qianmo was speechless and glared at Ai Hedong: "I have to go to the underworld to ask him!"

"Brother Ai, how come you can't stand up to him like the girl from the brothel?"

Ai Hedong grinned: "It's not that I can't get over this hurdle, I admire him from the bottom of my heart!"

"pity,"

Ai Hedong looked at the full moon reflected in the lotus pond, his expression gradually dimmed:

"Actually, I originally wanted to travel to Ningguo and ask him for advice on this poem in person."

"But I didn't expect that he would really pass away, let alone that the two countries would fight at Wuya Pass."

"But I have heard that Jiangnan Road in Ningguo is completely different now than it was when Ji Tai was prime minister."

"Listen to those businessmen, these are the national policies he left to Ningguo, and they have undergone earth-shaking changes under the vigorous implementation of Mr. Wen Zhuiyu Wen!"

Tai Zhaohua frowned and looked at Ai Hedong, "Brother Ai, be careful what you say!"

He lowered his voice and said, "His Royal Highness the Crown Prince went on a mission to Ning Guo. It is said that he suffered some grievances. His Royal Highness the Crown Prince's attitude towards Ning Guo is not so friendly. After he ascends the throne, there may be more conflicts between the two countries."

"After all, we are from the Wu State. If you say good things about the Ning State...if the spies from the Central Office hear it, your future will be cut off. It's a trivial matter, but don't lose your life because of it!"

Ai Hedong curled his lips, and Pu Qianmo patted his shoulder again, "Let's go, it's time for us to write down these Mid-Autumn Festival words!"

The three of them walked towards the three pavilions.

The crowd suddenly surged.

The three of them walked away in the pavilion, and the rest of the students and scholars seemed to be inspired by them, and they walked in one after another not to be outdone.

The third floor of Wenhui Building.

Prince Wu Qian is not sitting in front of his short table at this moment.

He and Xia Hua stood by the fence, watching the students write words one by one in the splash-ink pavilion.

He was very happy in his heart.

He stretched out his hand and said: "These young talents are all the best students of Wu Guoshu, and they are also the talents who will be in charge of the Wu Kingdom in the future!"

"I really can't believe that so many scholars and literati are writing a Mid-Autumn Festival poem together, and there won't be any poems that surpass Li Chen'an's poems!"

Xia Hua curled her lips, thinking that no one here could write a poem that surpassed this one just based on her husband's "Water Melody Song, When Will the Bright Moon Come?"

Wu Qian happened to turn his head and saw it.

His heart sank, Xia Hua's disdain made him feel uncomfortable.
Chapter completed!