One is a scholar. Don’t worry about a poem and become a prophecy. The spring birds and autumn insects make their own noises."

After all the scholars heard this, the whole place was silent for a moment.

Everyone, including Qian Qianyi, was deeply touched by this poem and recalled his own situation over the years.

"A hundred useless things are a scholar, a hundred useless things are a scholar..."

Wu Wenli pondered over and over again, thinking of his mother, Cheng, who was widowed at a young age and raised him with all her heart. As a young boy, he was a scholar and was praised by the villagers as a child prodigy. Later, he failed in many examinations and had no hope in the imperial examinations. He ran into obstacles everywhere and was looked down upon by others.

After being elected, he gained respect, but he could not pass the Jinshi examination and could not fulfill his ambitions as an official.

The world is in chaos, the country is overthrown, and all I can do is watch. Isn’t it true that I am a useless scholar?

The wind is full of tragic songs, and the mud is stained with bad luck. These two sentences are more like a portrayal of his half-life, as if this poem was written by himself!

Wu Wenli stood up sadly: "The main town knows me, and I should also know the main town. Please take your leave, I have returned to my hometown to work as an official, and I am not worthy of you to waste time here."

"Farewell!"

Several more scholars got up and stopped participating in the literary meeting. They all chose to go back to their hometowns to do things.

It's useless to lecture these people. A poem is enough to make them empathize.

Those who still refuse to leave after reading this poem are simply stubborn people!
Chapter completed!