infinite power system

Chapter 10 Who is scolding me
Xu Wan looked at Tang Feng who had already fallen asleep, and sighed lightly, her eyes were full of sadness and... hope.

Although she knew the reason for Tang Feng's fall in the past, and she didn't blame Tang Feng for his fall, she still hoped that Tang Feng could rise up.

But maybe Tang Feng has been depraved for so long that she has forgotten the secret in her heart.

Until Tang Feng shot and killed Lin Changxiao, tied Qin Ya with ropes, dared to face-to-face with the great eunuch Sun Eunuch, and uttered such ambitious lines as "If I were Qing Emperor in his year, I will repay the peach blossoms together", the secret in her heart It sprouts again and soon blossoms and bears fruit.

"You've been very tired these years, Xiaofeng." Sitting gently on the bed, Xu Wan gently covered Tang Feng with the quilt.

It wasn't until a crescent moon lifted into the sky that Xu Wan got up and was ready to go to Fuyao Mountain.

"what?"

Just when she was about to leave, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the rice paper Tang Feng left on the table.

"Picking Mulberry Nine Days"? Is this a poem written by Xiaofeng?" Xu Wan was horrified. No matter how you look at it, this poem is everyone's work, but how could it appear on Tang Feng's desk.Moreover, the ink was not completely dry, obviously it had just been written not long ago.

"I looked up the two lines in his poem if I were Qing Emperor, but I didn't find these two lines in the previous poems. I don't have the impression of this "Picking Mulberry Nine Days". Could it be that Tang Feng wrote it himself? of?"

Xu Wan was taken aback by this thought. How could such an idiot, who was called a man of gold and jade, write such a masterpiece?

It wasn't written by Tang Feng, who could it be...

The lights on Fuyao Mountain are brilliant, and the lanterns are dazzling, very eye-catching. The cool breeze, accompanied by the sound of silk and bamboo orchestras, are all famous singers in the desolate city, and even the famous oiran who moved Yunqin was invited to come.

In the center of the Fuyao Poetry Club, there is a flowing cup of water, and a very bookish young man is in the center with a bright smile. It is Xue Wenjin.

"Mr. Xue is worthy of being the adopted son of the King of Desolation. He not only has a high level of cultivation, but also writes good poems. I admire him." A young man in Huafu bowed his hands to Xue Wenjin, his eyes showing admiration.

"That's right, Mr. Xue's "One Inch of Gold·Autumn Feeling" is really wonderful. It seems that Brother Wenjin is the literary champion of this poetry meeting." There is another young master who is wearing a green shirt and compliments Xue Wenjin very much. .

Xue Wenjin smiled all over his face, waved his hands and said politely: "Everyone, you are welcome, Wenjin can't learn the trivial skills with this little talent. Wenjin is still far behind Fuyao Wenkui."

Then there was a lot of politeness, many literati exchanged cups, it was very lively.

"Lord Qiu, Lord Zhong, and Lord Tan are here!"

A voice came from a distance, and Xue Wenjin immediately became serious. He is bound to win the Fuyao Wenkui this year, but the position of Wenkui is not up to him, but depends on three desolate writers—Qiu Daoming , Zhong Qingshen, Tan Kangxin.

"This junior has seen three adults." Xue Wenjin, as the leader of many talents, was the first to bow and salute.

"There is no need to be too polite, no need to be too polite." Qiu Daoming stroked his beard and smiled very kindly, but he has been in Taoism for many years, and his methods are terrifying.

Zhong Qingshen and Tan Kangxin are equally approachable, but their real cultivation level is the same as that of Qiu Daoming, reaching a shocking level.

"Every year when the Fuyao Poetry Club is held, it is the happiest day for me to wait. I can see the seeds of your studies taking root and sprouting in my desolation, so I don't have to worry about my desolation being called a barbarian again. place."

Qiu Daoming laughed, but there was a hint of loneliness in the laughter. Xue Wenjin was already among the young people with the best literary talent, but compared to the scholars in Yunqin capital, he was still far behind.

"Wenjin, come, let me see the poems you wrote this year." Zhong Qing greeted with a smile, hoping to see Xue Wenjin's progress.

""An Inch of Gold · Autumn Sense", the pressure of autumn is longer...Under the sparse fence, try to find the Double Ninth Festival, and break the green chrysanthemum drunk."

Zhong Qingshen finished reading Xue Wenjin's Chongyang Ci poem slowly, the smile in his eyes became more and more intense, until finally he burst out laughing outright.

Seeing this, Qiu Daoming and Tan Kangxin both took that piece of poetry and looked at it, once, twice, and three times. They actually read Xue Wenjin's "One Inch of Gold · Autumn Feeling" three times, and in the end they were as happy as Zhong Qingshen laughing out loud.

When Xue Wenjin saw the three great writers so happy, he knew that this year's position as the top writer was stable. In previous years, there were very few poems that were unanimously approved by the three great writers, and there was no situation where the three great writers laughed together.

"It seems that this year, not only will I be named Wenkui, but I will also be appreciated by three great writers, which will give me a lot more bargaining chips."

Xue Wenjin smiled coldly in his heart, and said to himself: "Tang Feng, what's the use of your arrogance? In terms of cultivation talent, you are not as good as Xu Tianwen, and academic spirit, you are not as good as me, Xue Wenjin, who is not good at civil and military. How can you compete with us to be the next king of desolation?" location?"

Although Xue Wenjin's poems made Qiu Daoming and the others very happy, the process still had to go on, and the poems of other literati had to be read one by one, so that the candidate for Wenkui could be finally determined.

"Well, it seems that the position of Wen Kui must belong to Wen Jin."

Qiu Daoming laughed. Although some of these poems are very innovative, they are still not as good as Xue Wenjin's "An Inch of Gold · Autumn Feeling".

"Lord Qiu is absurd." Xue Wenjin saluted, trying to be as calm as possible.

"Oh, the fly in the ointment is that Wenjin is just the adopted son of the King of Desolation, and cannot really represent my desolation. Otherwise, when the song "One Inch of Gold·Autumn Feeling" comes out, I think the capital will dare to call me Desolation a barbarian again. place."

Zhong Qing sighed softly.

"If the son of King Lianghuang can write such poems, then I, Lianghuang, will really stand up in terms of writing." Qiu Daoming also sighed.

The son of the desolate prince?Xue Wenjin smiled coldly, just that Tang Feng?How could a guy who couldn't write a doggerel write such a masterpiece as "An Inch of Gold·Autumn Feeling".

"It's the son of the Desolate King, among whom is a piece of gold and jade, and one of them is an idiot. Are you two foolish? You are counting on that son." Tan Kangxin's complexion sank, obviously he had a bad impression of Tang Feng.

"Don't worry, three adults, Wenjin will definitely work hard and never let me, a desolate literati, be underestimated." Xue Wenjin said confidently.

"Oh, it's really sad that we can only find Wenjin, a seed of study, in such a vast desolation."

The three literary giants shook their heads and sighed, feeling even more resentful towards that desolate prince in their hearts. As a prince, how could they be so poor?
"Huh? Xu Wan, you're here too."

Xue Wenjin was about to reprimand Tang Feng in front of the three writers, but when he saw Xu Wan come out, he swallowed back the words he was about to say.

Xu Wan was used to maintaining a calm temper, she nodded to Xue Wenjin, and then saluted the three literary magnates, which can be regarded as a process.

"Xu Wan, as far as I know, the son of the desolate king has come of age this year, so he can come to the Fuyao poetry meeting, why didn't he come?" Tan Kangxin asked.

"Back to Mr. Tan, His Royal Highness has not been in good health recently, that's why he didn't come." Xu Wan replied truthfully.

"Xu Wan, this is your fault. How can you lie in front of Mr. Tan? His Royal Highness is probably going to drink flower wine again. Why is he in poor health? It's ridiculous."

Xue Wenjin sneered coldly, and exaggeratedly said: "But, I am really looking forward to the arrival of His Royal Highness. The three adults were just talking about His Royal Highness, saying that it would be great if His Royal Highness could write a good poem."

Xu Wanqiao's face was slightly cold, she glanced at Xue Wenjin coldly, and said, "Do you really want to read Shizi's poems?"

Xue Wenjin smiled disdainfully, and said: "Since Xu Wan, you want to protect His Royal Highness, why don't you let us take a look at His Royal Highness's masterpiece, I would like to see what he can write, I just hope it will not be indecent, so as not to be dirty. caught the eyes of the three adults."

Xu Wan didn't look at Xue Wenjin again, but directly handed the rice paper on which Tang Feng wrote "Picking Mulberry Nine Days" to Qiu Daoming.

In the desolate palace, a gust of cold wind blew by, Tang Feng shivered under the blanket, but woke up from the cold.

"Ah."

After sneezing, Tang Feng rubbed his nose and cursed: "Which son of a bitch scolded me?"

Looking at the night, it seems that the time is still early, Tang Feng is a little entangled, should he go to Fuyao Mountain to see the poetry festival in this world?
(End of this chapter)