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There is a Confucian Pavilion called "Lu Li" in the East City, which is a place where Chinese literati and poets gather in Luoyang City.

On this day, Yushao accompanied Li Feng here and saw him leaning over and writing a few strokes on a signboard, then got up.

"I have written the minimum price, and this painting will be handed over to the department for safekeeping." Li Feng took out a scroll of the painting and handed it to a gentle green-bearded man beside him, "I'll ask the owner, you'll have to worry."

"It must be." The owner of the museum stroked his moustache and smiled, "Young Master, you should understand the rules here. Mobao is for sale here. The deposit is twenty cents a day, at least once every five days."

Li Feng thought for a while: "Then I'll take it for five days first." As he said that, he took out a piece of silver the size of a bean from his purse.

The owner of the museum closed Yin Douzi gently in his palm: "Young Master, let's make some things first. When the five-day period expires, this painting will not be refunded regardless of whether it is sold or not."

Li Feng nodded: "I understand."

"Then I wish my master will meet Bo Le soon in his paintings." The owner bowed happily.

Li Feng returned the gift: "Thank you for your good words, say goodbye."

Standing at the entrance of the Confucian Pavilion, Yu Shao sincerely praised: "It's really a pity that Li Feng, you are determined. I thought of using this method to raise charity funds for the injured people."

Li Feng smiled lightly: "It's just a slim effort, but I'm worried that I overestimated my painting skills and set the lowest price higher. If I can't buy it, I'll pay 100 cents. That's really shameless." When he said this, his smile felt a little self-deprecating and bitter.

"I don't know how to see Lifeng. I've just seen your paintings. They are lifelike and have excellent charm. I have great confidence in you." Yu Shao smiled and said, "Luoyang is so outstanding and talented, there will definitely be people who know the goods."

Li Feng looked up at him, feeling warm and smiling: "Yu Shao has raised his head. Let's go to Cunshantang to take a look?"

"Okay." Yu Shao was just thinking about it, spread his fingers and pointed at the way, "Please."

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It was a coincidence that just before the two of them left, Youmeng, dressed as a noble man, also came here with her name.

She turned her head and asked her "male servant" Dong Xie in a low voice: "You have inquired carefully? That's it?"

Dong Xie said lightly: "Yes, this is the most famous Confucian temple in Luoyang City. There will be many famous scholars in daily life. There should be the talent that the princess wants, right?"

Youmeng nodded, and the master and servant walked in.

At this time, a carriage was parked across the street. A man named "Fenglang" walked to the car window and said respectfully: "Young Master, the target has just entered this Luli Pavilion."

The curtain on the pane was slowly lifted from inside by a white slender hand, and half of his handsome face reflected behind the curtain. His cold eyes came out and shot directly at the door of Luli Pavilion, like a falcon locking in prey, faintly revealing a stern and chilling feeling...

After Youmeng and the Winter Solstice entered, they found a seat in the corner and sat down. They happened to meet a group of Confucian scholars gathered together and said they wanted to talk to poetry. They said that Luli Pavilion is very popular and has many talented people. Youmeng sat quietly, put up a folding fan and rotated leisurely in her hands, while looking at the so-called "celebrity and talent" and looking for her "talents".

"I'll start first!" One of the men with oily and pink faces rose up, folded the fan and slapped it in their palms, "The sound of the pipa stopped and wanted to speak slowly, as if he had been unable to succeed in his life."

"Okay!" The seats were cheering one after another, with a bit of bluffing.

In the noise, a man with sharp mouth and monkey cheeks stood up to agree, and saw him smiling and shaking off his joy: "Life is not satisfactory, so it is better to hang yourself in the east, south, and branches!"

What are all these crooked melons? Youmeng can feel embarrassed from a long distance, or is it a scholar who claims to be talented, which is really ashamed of them.

"Okay! That's right!"

"Okay, okay!"

"The neat rhyme and the artistic conception are combined, as if it is natural! Wonderful! Wonderful!"

"What a good poem! What a good poem..."

This is still a good song? Youmeng couldn't help but hold her forehead and hide her helpless and sneering sneer on her face. I don't know who was listening to the messy words of the Winter Solstice, and tricked her here. Now she has the desire to die: I really hope there is a Southeast branch that will let you hang it together, so as not to be embarrassed here!
Chapter completed!