Huang Jin, who came to pass the note, was not surprised at all by Yuan Wei’s one-two punch. Yuan Wei has always been a quick thinker, and in the past, when the Emperor sometimes sent out a piece of paper in the middle of the night, Yuan Wei would always put up his pen and write a poem, which was very much appreciated by the Emperor.
At this moment, seeing Yuan Wei’s work, Huang Jin showed a satisfied look on his face, and then paced over to watch Yuan Wei’s masterpiece.
The characters were strong and powerful, and the calligraphy was superb. Literary elegance is also good, poetry is also a superior work, can be called excellent, just good is good, in calligraphy can be called a great success, in literary elegance can be patted on the back, but but in the appetite but not much impulse, a pity.
“Lord Yuan has the heart.”Huang Jin did not show any emotion and nodded to Yuan Wei.
Receiving Huang Jin’s appreciation, Yuan Wei’s face was even more proud of the colour, his chin was raised more than forty degrees…….
Yuan Wei finished writing, other people also began to gradually pen, the next finished is Li Chunfang, with Yuan Wei, Li Chunfang is also often to Jiajing emperor writing words, in the Hanlin Academy these days poetry is the rise:
Fresh bamboo shoots in the outskirts of the capital while the anchovies, rotten boiled spring breeze in early March.
Only Brasenia schreberi can be eaten in a long time, the gods also for eating fish back.
Relative to Yuan Wei’s poem, Huang Jin after reading Li Chunfang’s poem expression a little richer, but the heart is still a little sorry, although this poetry is also pasted a bit of rice flavour, so that people on the fish a little bit of snacks, but it is also a point only, or can not let a person’s appetite, pity ah.
“Ta-Jen Li has the heart.”Huang Jin nodded, unable to see his emotions.
After Li Chunfang finished writing his poem, everyone else also finished a poem one after another, and Zhang Juzheng and Zhang Siwei both wrote out a poem each.
Zhang Juzheng’s poems were also absolutely superior:
The Dragon King knows the beauty of fish, the Mountain God realises the fragrance of bamboo shoots.
The white jade cup of sweet wine is half full of flavour.
Zhang Siwei did not fail to live up to his literary talent, also followed Zhang Juzheng wrote a good work.
All the Hanlin here also basically put pen to paper to write a good masterpiece, at present there is no pen to paper is only Zhu Pingan. Zhu Pingan was a scholar, but at this time, he had yet to put pen to paper, so everyone could not help but turn their attention to him.
Could it be that the Scholarly Scholar was confused when he first received the Holy Spirit’s proposition?
Huang Jin also placed his eyes on Zhu Pingan at this moment. If there was anyone he had high hopes for this time, it was Zhu Pingan, last night it was Zhu Pingan’s poem at the wine table that made His Holiness eat two more bowls of rice ah.
In fact, when he saw Emperor Jiajing’s little note, Zhu Pingan’s first reaction was to the food body poems created by those foodies in modern times. Last night, his own joke is one of the food body poetry that I have seen on the Internet, that is to say, in modern times when I saw these poems but the appetite is very open, eat noodles and even Lao Gan Ma have saved ……It’s even more appetising than watching China on the tip of the tongue.
But the only problem is that in this day and age I don’t know if it’s acceptable, and it’s for the most powerful people in the world.
“Why hasn’t the Scholar’s Edge moved his pen yet?”Huang Jin asked.
“Dare I ask Lord Huang. What are the restrictions on poetry?”Instead of answering, Zhu Pingan arched his hand and asked Huang Jin a question.
“Nothing else, just appetising.”Huang Jin shook his head, then added meaningfully, “There is no need to worry much, just write whatever you want.”
This is something in the words ah, but I like it, Zhu Pingan slightly nodded with an idea, if you write according to the conventional, your own literary talent is not as good as Yuan Wei, Li Chunfang, Zhang Juzheng and them, and to be honest. I really don’t have much of an appetite to read their poems.
Think about it, Jiajing Emperor’s appetite is not good, can not eat, the purpose is to appetising, as for the style and so on, anyway, I asked, Huang Jin said there is no; in addition, even if the style is not good, at most cause a few laughs only, can make Jiajing Emperor laugh twice. It seems to be also good oh.
Face?
Ahem, that thing is worth a few bucks, wearing it is quite tiring.
After thinking clearly, Zhu Pingan hooked up his lips. With a sense of jest, he lifted the brush and dipped his hand in the ink stone.
For a moment, everyone focused their eyes on the tip of Zhu Pingan’s ink-dripping brush.
The pen is handsome, the pen is stable, but what does it mean when you stop moving on the paper? The crowd watched as Zhu Pingan lifted his pen, dipped it in ink, and dropped it, waiting to see the poem Zhu Pingan wrote, but at this critical moment, they saw Zhu Pingan drop his pen on the paper and then nothing happened. It didn’t move at all, as if the fire had gone out.
What, is this a nervous breakdown?
Unable to handle a big task, vain, Yuan Wei’s gaze towards Zhu Pingan became even more disdainful.
“Ahem, I’ve disturbed Lord Huang, I’ve taken the liberty of asking, what kind of food does the Imperial Catering Room want to feed His Majesty today, lest I mess up His Majesty’s dietary arrangements.”
Zhu Pingan’s voice rang out about half a second after he put pen to paper.
When Zhang Juzheng heard this, he couldn’t help but look at Zhu Pingan twice more, thoughtful ah, how did Zhu Pingan’s consideration of this point not occur to himself!
Everyone else also seemed to share the same feeling.
“His Majesty fasted and ate vegetarian for a long time some days ago, the Imperial Catering Room is thinking of doing some more meat to replenish His Majesty’s qi and blood.”
Huang Jin looked at Zhu Pingan with appreciation, satisfied with Zhu Pingan’s attentiveness, being able to put himself in His Majesty’s shoes rather than simply holding the mentality of completing a task, this kind of courtier is the kind of courtier His Majesty appreciates.
Oh, eat more meat.
Zhu Pingan nodded, then the brush in his hand began to dragon and phoenix dance up, the text is not added, a breath of air:
No bamboo makes one vulgar, no meat makes one thin.
Not vulgar and not thin, bamboo shoots stewed pork.
At first, the crowd was shocked by Zhu Pingan’s superb calligraphy, which can be said to be the best in the Hanlin Academy, but when Zhu Pingan finished writing the poem, the crowd was stunned. Erm, this is a limerick? Yet it was a few points more elegant than a limerick. Zhu Pingan’s limerick was based on Su Shi’s poem, “It is better to eat without meat than to live without bamboo. No meat makes you thin, no bamboo makes you vulgar. He took two lines from Su Shi’s poem, but perfected and added them into a poem.
Regardless of the elegance of the poem, seeing this poem does make people have a strong urge to taste this not vulgar and not thin bamboo shoots stewed pork, very strong.
However, if it is about literary talent, Zhu Pingan’s poem can’t even be compared to Yuan Wei and Li Chunfang, which is also called a poem! After thinking for such a long time to write such a poem ……Yuan Wei and several others looked at Zhu Pingan with disdain.
“Actually, I love food more, and sometimes when I’m reading ancient poems, I can’t help but think about food, and then I try to make some interesting lines. Almost like this.”Zhu Pingan said with a somewhat embarrassed smile, then he put his pen to write for the crowd to see:
The deceased left the Yellow Crane Tower in the west, and travelled a long way to buy fish heads!
You ask if there is a return date yet, braised aubergine and stewed chicken.
Once the sea is hard to water, fish and meat with chicken legs.
It’s hard to say goodbye when you see each other, don’t put salt on the steamed crab.
After Zhu Pingan finished writing these lines, there was an outcry all around, accompanied by small voices such as “Nonsense” and “What the hell”. If at the beginning of Zhu Pingan’s poem can still be called a poem then, the later written this can not be described as a poem at all, to say that it is a limerick is to lift.
I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’m sure I’ll be back soon. ……What’s all this?
