Qing Yu, who had suffered a miserable fate in the eyes of the True Martial Daoist Sect crowd, is now watching a play with all five limbs, fanning himself at ease.
This is inside the most famous Lingsen Pavilion in Tianle Square.
At this moment, the Pavilion of the Immortals is soliciting guests for the night for the head flower girl.
Of course, as an elegant place that is highly sought after by scholars, it takes more than money to become a guest at the Pavilion of the Immortals, but talent.
“I’m so drunk that I want to laugh, but I want to worry about the work.
Recently I have come to realise that the books of the ancients are not worthy of belief.
Last night I fell down drunk by a pine, and asked how I was drunk.
I only suspected that the pine was moving and wanted to be helped, so I pushed it with my hand and said, “Go!
The poem is being recited by a handsome gentleman dressed in a very ordinary way. He was dressed as a scholar, and nine out of ten of the people here were dressed in this way, which is a good example of the saying that “since ancient times, there have been many literati”.
It was this gentleman who looked a little pale and sickly, and who looked a little bit afflicted.
“Is there anyone else who thinks they can outperform this ninth son and come up to offer a poem? If not, the guest of honour tonight will be the ninth son.” The half-aged pimp shouted vigorously.
“Give it to him give it to him, that’s all he can do ——”
“Ninth Prince, are you physically able? Haha ——”
“Ninth Gongzi, don’t get faint from the blood and Qi later on ——”
——
For some reason, all the people present spoke out in mockery. Although readers don’t speak dirty words, this kind of mockery without dirty words can pierce the hearts of people even more.
The Ninth Prince’s face was so sickly red from the ridicule that he coughed uncontrollably.
“Are all the readers of the Northern Zhou, unable to afford to lose?” On the first floor, Jin Mingxuan, who was watching with Qing Yu, saw this and could not help but sneer.
A few of the nearby scholars heard this and could not help but turn around and look at Jin Mingxuan angrily. Jin Mingxuan was not the least bit vain and glared back viciously.
“You two, it’s your first time to come to God’s Capital, right?” A nearby scholar said, although it was a question, the words were very certain.
“Oh, how do you know, brother, that the two of us are new to the Divine Capital?” Qing Yu asked, shaking his folding fan.
With these words, he was already admitting that he was a first-time visitor to the Divine Capital.
The few scholarly students with angry faces collected their anger and smiled with apologies on their faces.
“If it wasn’t the first time I came to Divine Capital City, how could I not know, this ‘Herculean’ Ninth Gongzi.” It was the same scholar who had asked the question earlier, but when he said “famous”, he deliberately increased his tone and showed a sneer on his face, obviously not praising the ninth son.
“How do you mean ‘famous’?” Qing Yu asked in a very hilarious manner.
“This person is called ‘Feng Jiu’, the ninth son of the current Saint. He was born weak and his meridians are so weak that he cannot even withstand the effects of ordinary qi and blood pills. He was born a sickly child and was disliked by His Majesty. Even his name was given to him as ‘Nine’, a random ranking of his peers.
The ninth son, having failed in martial arts, went on to study literature and made a name for himself, but unfortunately, his literary skills were not as good as those of the eighth prince, and he was still not taken seriously. This is the tenth time this month that the ninth prince has done so, so naturally, he is not liked by the people.”
When the Great Zhou was overthrown, it was only thanks to Meng Shanhe’s support that the Northern Zhou was established. Therefore, although the Northern Zhou had a strong literary culture and most of the people on the roads were dressed as scholars, the martial culture was also not weak. All the emperors of the Northern Zhou Dynasty had a strong martial arts culture, and all the people of the Northern Zhou Dynasty were proud of their ability in both literature and martial arts, and did not like those weak scholars of the Great Qian Dynasty who had no body, no grain, and no power.
The eighth prince, Feng Qiu, who was a good scholar, had a good command of both literature and martial arts. Under such circumstances, it is strange that Feng Jiu can be taken seriously.
“This month it seems that there is nothing to look forward to, this D*mned ——” spoke another scholar, half speaking, apparently not daring to curse Feng Jiu directly, after all, he is still an imperial son.
Today is the tenth, Feng Jiu was elected as the guest of honor for the tenth time, apparently he wanted to wrap up the month, not giving others a chance, no wonder that scholar cursed out.
“Excuse me, I haven’t asked a few brothers their names. My name is Meng De, this is my friend, Jin Ming Xuan, dare I ask what your names are?” Qing Yu said with apologies.
“No matter, we have also forgotten to announce our names. I am Lin Wei Feng.” The scholar who spoke to Qing Yu first said.
“Lu Renjia.”
“Xiao Bing Yi.”
“Balking Zong Ding.”
The other few scholarly students were also courteous and polite.
“Xiandi Meng and Xiandi Jin are here to study at Shanhe Academy, right?” Lin Wei Feng said.
“Precisely.”
“We are all students of the Shanhe Academy, and we look forward to seeing you two Yindi in the Academy, but as for today, we have lost our interest, so we will have less company.”
The remaining three scholarly students also nodded their heads in agreement.
“Take care of yourselves, four.”
The four of them gradually walked away.
They talked for quite some time, and the pimp downstairs was still calling out if there was anyone else, without any regard for Feng Jiu, who was looking blue. It seemed that Feng Jiu was indeed quite miserable, even a pimp couldn’t even look at him.
“The poem this ninth prince has just written seems to be about his leisurely mood, but the bones reveal his discontent with reality and his stubborn attitude towards life. He is also resentful at heart.” Jin Mingxuan looked at the scene downstairs and said.
“The heart is resentful, but it has found the wrong place to exert its literary talents. After all, the Pavilion of the Immortals is a place of youths, even if he really wraps up a month, it won’t attract the attention of others, instead, there will be more ridicule. So, we have to wake him up.” Qing Yu said.
“Ah?!” Jin Mingxuan looked at Qing Yu with dumbfounded eyes.
This was the Northern Zhou, brother, even if this Feng Jiu was no longer valued, he was still an imperial son. Looking at his weak appearance, with one punch, he was afraid that he would vomit blood and die on the spot. When the time came, he would only be buried with him.
“Use Wen Cai. Brother Jin, it’s up to you.” Qing Yu patted Jin Mingxuan’s shoulder and said.
“No——- this, Brother Meng, although I ask myself to have a bit of ink in my chest, but to make poetry that surpa*ses this Feng Jiu, I ask myself that it is still impossible, if you want to rely on me, you have kind of found the wrong person.” Jin Mingxuan’s head shook like a rattle.
“Don’t worry, my brother will help you, attach your ear to it.”
Qing Yu muttered in Jin Mingxuan’s ear for a while.
“This —— brother Meng, good literary skills.”
“It’s a way to repay the favor of hitching a ride with you. Go on.” Qing Yu said.
“Many thanks, Brother Meng.” Jin Mingxuan glanced gratefully at Qing Yu and ran downstairs shouting, “I’ll do it.”
Oj8k, steady, this friend is made.
Next, let’s wish him a good night, and Qing Yu will go ahead and finish his work.
As for whether Jin Mingxuan will succeed, there is absolutely no need to worry. Although Feng Jiu’s poem is good, the mood it contains is very bitter and does not match the current situation. The poem that Qing Yu gave to Jin Mingxuan is a famous poem, and with a good poem by Liu Sanchang, the poet of white whoring who never pays for anything, he is still afraid of not being able to beat Feng Jiu.
The poem was written by the famous poet Liu Sanchang, who has never paid for anything in the world.
