roccoschili Chapter 88 I would like to ask Mr. Youya to teach me.
Chapter 88 I would like to ask Mr. Youya to teach me.
Chapter 88 I would like to ask Mr. Youya to teach me.
When Yang Zhengdao and Li Tai were fishing by the water with their cups hanging up, the pavilion was completely silent.
Fang Yi'ai stared at the empty rattan paper in front of him, his mind also blank.
He was originally being confined by his father, but because of this literary gathering, he was allowed to go out for a day.
He originally looked down on Yang Zhengdao. So what if he could write poetry? All he wrote about was love and romance all day long. What kind of good man was he?
But yesterday, his father went to Ganlu Palace and brought back a poem. He was immediately struck by the line "I will not return until Loulan is conquered."
The reason Fang Xuanling was able to see that poem was, of course, due to Li Er's deliberate actions.
Li Er's move can be described as killing two birds with one stone.
He did this both to promote Yang Zhengdao's reputation and to prevent the court and the public from thinking that Yang Zhengdao could only write about romance, thus eliminating the suspicion that Yang Zhengdao was the author of "Lianpingchun".
This also lays the groundwork for sending Yang Zhengdao to the Western Regions next year.
The manuscript of "Spring Screen" had already begun to circulate in Chang'an after passing through Zhang Anan's hands.
Fang Yi'ai, that simpleton, naturally couldn't have imagined the intricacies behind it all.
At first, he thought it was the work of a sage, and a feeling of admiration arose spontaneously, thinking that a good man should be like this.
What books should we read? What languages should we study?
Only by fighting on the battlefield can one write such a magnificent masterpiece that will last for thousands of years.
To his utter surprise, his father told him that the poem was the masterpiece of Yang Youya, the Hermit of the Three Mountains.
Therefore, today Fang Yi'ai can hardly look Yang Zhengdao in the eye. This man, who was captured and despised by him, has actually written down his innermost thoughts and his ideals.
He was filled with mixed feelings, but what he kept thinking was the seven words, "I will not return until Loulan is conquered," which always made his blood boil.
Perhaps inspired by something, he suddenly had a flash of inspiration and immediately picked up his pen to write down the first two lines.
Chang'an at night, clothes are tied; Yuyang flowers rise and fall.
But afterwards, he couldn't think of anything else, and he had no idea how to connect it with the topic of today's literary gathering.
Du He, standing beside Fang Yi'ai, also pondered deeply but to no avail.
He picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, wrote a few words, glanced at them, shook his head, and crossed them out. He wrote again, and crossed them out again.
As ink gradually seeped onto the paper, he crumpled it up, took another sheet, laid it out, rested his chin on his hand, and gazed absently at the lotus pond outside the pavilion.
Duan Yan wrote smoothly, but after finishing, he felt it was too straightforward, so he crumpled up the paper and took another one to rewrite it.
Gao Lixing had already wasted two pages of writing, and he had just started the third page when he stopped again.
Kong Huiyuan sat upright, his pen never stopping, but as he wrote, he suddenly sighed and crossed out the two sentences he had just written.
Li Yuanjia, sitting at the head of the table, held his pen in his hand for a long time, but never put it down.
He frowned slightly, his gaze shifting back and forth between the inkstone and the Xuan paper.
Sometimes he would pick up his pen to write, and sometimes he would pause, dipping the pen tip in the ink again and again, but in the end he couldn't write a single word.
On the other side, Yan Xianfu wrote the slowest, carefully considering each word, pausing his pen for a long time before putting it down.
Wang Jingzhi had already written three lines, but he couldn't seem to connect them to the fourth.
He held the pen to his lips, his lips moving as if he were silently reciting something, then shook his head.
Tang Shanshi, however, is exceptionally talented.
After pondering for a long time, he suddenly seemed to have a flash of inspiration, bent down and wrote quickly, completing the poem in one go, becoming the first to finish the manuscript.
New buds have not yet appeared, and small lotus leaves fill the green pond.
I will wait until the peach and plum blossoms have faded, and not compete with others for fragrance.
A moment later, Kong Huiyuan also finished writing the poem.
He was not satisfied with the last two lines, as they contained a somewhat worldly and obsequious tone, but he couldn't think of anything better for the moment, so he had to put down his pen.
Last year, the green pond was covered with emerald canopies; tomorrow, red will reflect in the clear waves.
Untouched by worldly dust, this place is a gathering of refined gentlemen.
At this moment, Yan Xianfu, who had been writing the slowest, actually came out on top and was the third to finish.
Born from the mud, she emerges gracefully from the filth.
To greet the summer alone is the epitome of innocence.
Immediately afterwards, Wang Jingzhi finally came up with the fourth line, and wrote it down with great speed and speed. Then he put down his pen heavily, his face full of pride.
In April, the lotus leaves in the pond are not yet thick; in May, the green canopy covers the entire riverbank.
Red flowers bloom in June, reflected in the pond; lotus roots grow beneath the pond in July.
At this moment, Du He suddenly let out a deep breath, as if he had gone through a great ordeal and finally finished the poem.
New lotus leaves cover the green fields, and the breeze ripples the shallow water.
Spring flowers are silent, summer flowers seem to yearn to reach the heavens.
He put down his brush and looked at Fang Yi'ai beside him, but there were still only those two lines of poetry that had nothing to do with the theme of the literary gathering.
He suddenly felt ashamed to have such a childhood friend.
Because of his poetry contest with Yang Zhengdao in Pingkangfang, he and Fang Yi'ai also rose to fame.
Whenever someone mentions the Hermit of the Three Realms, they inevitably mention him and Fang Yi'ai. In private, everyone calls them Hermit of the Second Brother.
And then there was that despicable Cui Jiulang, who jokingly said: "He inherited the style of the two prime ministers, Fang and Du, and has the great name of the second prime minister, Fang and Du."
Even with Fang Yi'ai's blockhead, he's ranked ahead of him.
However, he was slightly outmatched by Yang Youya.
Thinking of this, Du He couldn't help but raise her chin towards Tang Shanshi opposite her.
You can't compare to Yang Youya, but do you think I'm afraid of Tang Wulang?
At that moment, Li Yuanjia, who had been racking his brains without success, suddenly had a flash of inspiration.
He thought of the hot spring bathhouse, and of the water couch, mirror room, and dragon that Yang Zhengdao had mentioned.
The pond full of new lotus blossoms before me is just like the beautiful spring pond.
His thoughts flowed instantly, and he wrote with divine inspiration. After a brief pause, the poem was completed.
The lotus leaves are half-hidden, half-concealing the spring; the clear water reflects their jade-like bodies.
When the flowers bloom in June, their red petals and tender stamens are most alluring.
Li Yuanjia read it again and was very satisfied.
He looked up and surveyed the room, noticing that Duan Yan had already put down his pen, while Gao Lixing was still carefully considering his words.
Fang Yi'ai was the only one in the room who remained in a daze, it was unclear whether he was deep in thought or simply lost in thought.
Li Yuanjia shook his head helplessly. Seeing that Li Tai and Yang Zhengdao had not yet returned, he waved his hand and told the guards to go and look for them.
Duan Yan was fairly satisfied with the poem in front of him; this was the third one he had written.
The lotus leaves are delicate and charming, swaying gently in the soft breeze.
Don't begrudge the flowers not yet in bloom; they are already enchanting in the sweltering summer.
Gao Lixing spent a long time revising and rewriting, but finally shook his head and decided that the first draft was the best, so he transcribed it again.
Green leaves cover the shallow ripples, beneath which a few shy figures linger.
Mo Yan cannot bear to look, yet the flowers bloom gracefully on their own.
If this were a normal literary gathering, the crowd would already be buzzing with discussion.
Whether they flatter each other, belittle each other, or subtly mock each other, after a round of verbal sparring, they eventually reconcile under the guidance of the host.
This should have been a moment of relaxation, but instead of lessening, the anxiety and unease in everyone's hearts intensified.
Today, the Venerable Sanshang has graced us with his presence, but he has not yet returned.
Everyone couldn't help but turn their gaze to the entrance of the waterside pavilion.
Of course, this excludes Fang Yi'ai, who is still racking his brains.
They didn't have to wait long before footsteps could be heard outside.
From far to near.
It was very crisp and loud.
That wasn't the sound of boots on the ground at all; it sounded more like bare feet.
It doesn't look like it!
It is exactly what it is!
Everyone saw Yang Zhengdao appear at the entrance of the waterside pavilion.
Barefoot.
He was carrying a brocade boot in one hand, his trousers rolled up to his calves, and a few strands of water plants still hanging from his ankles.
Li Tai, who followed closely behind, was also barefoot.
The room was completely silent.
Li Yuanjia's eyes widened in surprise. He opened his mouth, but didn't know what to ask!
At this moment, Li Tailang burst into laughter.
"Laughing loudly, I stride out the door; how can we be mere commoners? Yang Youya and I are now indulging in unrestrained behavior, transcending all moral constraints and following the natural order!"
Everyone was taken aback for a moment, then laughed and echoed, "Indeed, indeed."
If a prince has said this, what else can we say?
Li Yuanjia then coughed lightly and said with a smile, "Now that everyone has finished, I would like to invite the Venerable Sanshang to display his splendid writing!"
Fang Yi'ai suddenly looked up. "It's not Prince Xu! I haven't finished yet! Doesn't the crowd include me?"
Yang Zhengdao accepted Li Yuanjia's invitation with complete composure.
Li Shangyin wrote a quatrain about lotus flowers, and it was written right here by Qujiang Pool, perfectly capturing the moment.
Moreover, with the upcoming hit drama "The Curtain Screen Spring", we must reiterate the character's "love" for Chang Le.
After all, having an extra layer of protection makes you safer!
How could someone as passionate as Yang Zhengdao possibly write such a vulgar, frivolous, and ingenious book!
He simply cupped his hands in a respectful gesture, still holding his boots, and said in a deep voice, "Please wait a moment, everyone."
After saying that, he walked barefoot into the waterside pavilion.
Then, without realizing it, he tossed his boots onto the table.
Then he turned and leaned against the railing, gazing at the boundless waters in the distance.
Everyone was astonished.
Li Tai, however, was secretly delighted. He had learned something; he had learned something. This was how a true scholar should be.
Tang Shanshi sighed inwardly, "Such a renowned scholar, and we both ride horses, yet I am far inferior."
Wang Jingzhi was overjoyed to be treated as a brother by his colleague, feeling extremely fortunate and honored.
Yan Xianfu stared down at the wet footprints on the plain carpet. He recalled his second uncle's evaluation of Yang Zhengdao and murmured, "A true scholar, naturally elegant."
In just a few breaths, before anyone could react, Yang Zhengdao had already picked up his pen.
The crowd couldn't help but gather around.
Yang Zhengdao's calligraphy remained his signature "Slender Gold" style, also known as the "Three Upper Style" among Chang'an literati.
O
This is naturally another story that encourages diligent study, and it will be deeply hated by generations of children who were enlightened during the Tang Dynasty.
He held the pen in his hand, not pausing for a single word.
These lines of poetry seem to flow naturally from the heart to the tip of the pen, and from the tip of the pen to the paper.
When lotus leaves sprout, spring sorrow arises; when lotus leaves wither, autumn sorrow is complete.
Knowing full well that as long as I live, my feelings will endure, I gaze wistfully at the riverbank, listening to the sound of the flowing water.
The person who wrote the short twenty-eight characters was astonished.
Li Tai was overjoyed. With this masterpiece for all time, King Tai of Yue would surely leave his mark on history.
Li Yuanjia, however, had a completely different state of mind.
His eyes narrowed. This wasn't just about lotus flowers; the five words "As long as the body exists, the feelings will remain" conveyed so much heartache and helplessness.
He suddenly understood why his father in the Da'an Palace favored Yang Zhengdao; it was out of a shared sense of loss, like two people who had "lost their deer."
Tang Shanshi stood there stunned, while Wang Jingzhi repeatedly expressed his admiration.
Kong Huiyuan remained silent, while Yan Xianfu seemed to be deep in thought.
Duan Yan nodded to himself, while Gao Xingli seemed to have gained some insight.
At this moment, Du He felt lost and dejected, but suddenly felt that Erlang Jushi, who was as famous as San Shang Jushi, didn't sound so jarring anymore.
But Yang Zhengdao did not give everyone a chance to express their feelings.
He did not put down his pen, but continued to write the poem title: Gazing at Qujiang Pool, I think of Azhi.
Before anyone could gasp in shock, the pen had already fallen from his hand to the ground.
He disregarded etiquette, turned to look outside the pavilion, and naturally did not forget to roar to the sky: "I cannot obtain what I desire, I yearn for it day and night. I yearn for it day and night, tossing and turning in bed."
1
Everyone was so shocked that they forgot to gasp and stood there dumbfounded.
Li Yuanjia frowned, feeling a sense of déjà vu about this scene!
Li Tai felt a pang of sympathy. "Brother-in-law, what a 'fool'!"
Yang Zhengdao suddenly stopped his grief and bowed deeply to everyone.
"I was momentarily overwhelmed by political turmoil; please forgive my predicament!"
When Tang Dynasty literati wrote love letters, they all used terms like "boudoir," "jade face," or "my beloved" to refer to the woman; they would never write her name directly like Yang Zhengdao did.
Moreover, it was the nickname of the legitimate princess, and it was used in front of her elder brother and imperial uncle.
For a moment, everyone looked at each other in bewilderment.
In this situation, Yan Xianfu suddenly thought of what the Yan family's teachings said: "Seeing something similar makes one's eyes tremble, hearing a name makes one's heart tremble. When one is moved, one's heart and eyes are filled with sorrow."
At that moment, he felt enlightened and no longer cared about other people's opinions. He was the first to stand up and return Yang Zhengdao's greeting.
Then he praised, "The Layman Sanshang's emotions arise from his heart and move with utmost sincerity. He is truly a renowned scholar, true to his nature."
At this point, everyone realized what was happening and returned the greetings with words of comfort, but their thoughts were all different.
Some felt sympathy, others regret.
Including Li Tai and Li Yuanjia, no one knew that Li Er had already considered betrothing Chang Le to Yang Zhengdao.
Kong Huiyuan sighed inwardly, such a talented man, yet he was indulging in women, it was a pity.
Du He seemed to have found a new balance in his heart: "My poetic talent is not as good as You Ya's, and my temperament is not as good as You Ya's."
Yang Zhengdao naturally knew that such a flamboyant performance could easily go too far.
He repeatedly clasped his hands in apology, his face beaming with a smile.
"I am truly sorry, everyone. This work is intended to express thoughts and ideas, and it does not depict this pond of new lotus flowers. Therefore, it is not appropriate to include this title or the scene, and should be placed last."
The crowd naturally objected.
Yang Zhengdao declined again, saying, "This poem spoils the enjoyment of literary gatherings and should not be included in the discussion."
These words resonated with everyone. After some back and forth, Li Tai made the final decision: the work of the Three Hermits should be the final piece.
Thus, the lively atmosphere of literary gatherings was restored inside the waterside pavilion.
Yang Zhengdao also commented on each person's poems, and all his comments were positive.
If he were to be honest, Yang Zhengdao felt that Gao Xingli was the leader here.
Green leaves cover the shallow ripples, beneath which a few shy figures bloom. Don't say you can't bear to look; the flowers bloom gracefully in their own way.
If you savor it carefully, these mere twenty words capture the beauty of a young girl.
Next in line is Prince Xu, Li Yuanjia, who is clearly one of us.
This is really well written. I'm just asking you, after reading it, will you buy a credit card?
Yang Zhengdao had already thought it through. He would ask Li Yuanjia for a piece of his calligraphy, which would be most suitable to hang in the lobby of the bathhouse in the future.
Of course, other people's poems also have their merits and deserve praise.
Among them, the poems of Yan Xianfu and Du He are the most interesting. They both describe the summer lotus blooming alone, but one looks like a true gentleman, while the other looks like a traitor.
Of all the works composed by the guests at the banquet, not a single one was of inferior quality.
Unfortunately, in the early Tang Dynasty, all knowledge in the world was monopolized by powerful families.
Even a pig raised in a high-class household can learn to read and write.
Wait, something's not right!
It seems like something was missed!
Just now.
"Please teach me, Mr. Youya!"
A voice filled with sorrow and resentment suddenly rang out from the room!
That was none other than Fang Yi'ai, who seemed to have suddenly appeared out of the corner!