Great Blue Night Watchman

"Time's up, please stop writing!" Lei Dongyang shouted.

The maid came in from the outside and collected the poem manuscripts in front of everyone. When she received it at Lin Su's desk, the maid was obviously a little surprised. She really wrote it. Of course, she didn't understand the quality of the poem. She gave it to the gentleman...

Lei Dongyang picked up the collected manuscript and nodded with satisfaction: "Read it!"

A person next to me stood up, picked up the poem and started reciting...

"Poetry by Mr. Guiyang: The height of the building is only ordinary, but when you look up, you can see the sky full of light..."

"What a poem!"

The crowd roared with joy, and countless maids had stars in their eyes. They seemed to have no immunity at all to real men of letters.

Lin Su didn't find this phenomenon strange. In the Song Dynasty, the utopia of literati, there was an old P customer named Liu Yong who could be famous in all walks of life with his lyrics, let alone here? The literati here are not synonymous with being weak, but are strong in all aspects.

"Poetry by Mr. Du Ling: The Yangtze River reaches thousands of miles straight to the sky..."

"What a poem!"

There were countless cheers again.

"Poetry by Mr. Qingyang..."

"Poetry by Mr. Li Ding of Luozhou. Although Mr. Li Ding is not from Quzhou, his ancestral home is Quzhou. The poem goes..."

…

In the blink of an eye, he read dozens of poems. Lin Su himself was not good at ancient poetry, but he knew a little about it. He estimated that these poems were generally of the same level as his own poems. They were not too good, but they were not too bad either. , people in this place have a reason to love poetry. They have a very profound cultural heritage. Even a little-known child who has not even made it into the "literary world" has a line in a poem that is quite innovative.

"Zhang Xiugong's new work: The tide of the Yangtze River is at its peak. Why bother asking whether to stay or go? How can the tide know the aspirations of the blue clouds? It's another autumn to break through the sky!"

"Okay!" Everyone stood and applauded at the same time!

Lei Dongyang twisted his beard and sighed: "What a sentence that breaks the sky and brings another autumn, it is really a stroke of genius, a stroke of genius! This poem should be the most important among the poems in this event... Is there any more?"

"There is another poem, it is a poem by Mr. Lin..." The young reader had a strange expression on his face.

"You don't need to read it, right?" Mr. Jin said, "I'm sorry to dampen your interest."

"Nian Nian!" Zhang Xiu said with a smile: "We can also take a look at Shi'er to see if there is a lower limit."

Everyone laughed. What is the lower limit of poetry? That's really an interesting topic...

Mr. Lei smiled slightly: "We are all eclectic in literature and art. Tolerance is great. If there is no lower limit, it is a joke... think about it!"

When reading the poet, he cleared his throat and read: "You are forced to come without freedom..."

Everyone was stunned for a moment, it was really poetry, the starting point of the sentence was extraordinary!

"Dragon Xiang and Phoenix Zhu are in a difficult situation..."

Lei Dongyang was moved!

"The hall was full of flowers and three thousand guests were drunk,

One sword frost-freezes forty states. "

Everyone was confused and had a feeling that they had seen a ghost. Was this poem really written by the good-for-nothing third son in front of them? Why do I not believe it so much...

The girl holding the kite had her eyes firmly fixed on Lin Su. At this moment, her eyes were filled with infinite light...

"Okay!" A shout came from the corner. It was a middle-aged man, wearing ordinary common clothes, but when he stood up at this moment, he had a certain demeanor of his own.

good!

Someone cheered loudly, and the rhythm suddenly picked up. Countless people echoed it. Who among the people present is not a knowledgeable person? As soon as this poem came out, its majesty and sharpness were unrivaled!

Although Quzhou Jiuxiu mostly wears the same pants as Zhang Xiu, which makes it difficult to applaud him, he still cannot go against the basic understanding and disparage this poem.

"Little brother, this poem is unparalleled in spirit, but it seems that the meaning is not finished..." The old man raised his hand, interrupting everyone's cheers.

Lin Su said: "The old man is amazing... This poem has eight lines. Please finish reading the remaining four lines!"

The poet continued to read: "Drums and horns lift the sky and the air is cold,

The wind stirs the sea and mountains in autumn.

In the southeast, there will always be a golden pillar.

Who would envy the Marquis of Ten Thousand Households at that time? "

As soon as the last four sentences came out, the whole audience was silent. If the first four sentences were so heroic, why did the last four sentences have an air of sadness?

The old man let out a long sigh: "There will always be a golden pillar in the southeast. Who would envy the princes of ten thousand households at that time? The golden pillar in the past has become a dead soul today! Heaven, earth, time, and luck!"

He raised his hand, and a thin character "wind" appeared out of thin air. In the restaurant, a strong wind blew, and the old man took advantage of the wind and flew away, breaking into the sky in the blink of an eye.

"Extreme literary spirit? Which senior scholar?" Lei Dongyang was so shocked that he wrote with his bare hands. A word of wind could send people into the sky. What kind of power is this? The person who comes must be a great Confucian, and a great Confucian who has cultivated his literary spirit to the extreme. Such a person is a god-like existence in the entire world.

"It's Deng Xianchu and Deng Daru!" Someone shouted: "Look!"

Everyone followed his fingers and looked over. The word "Qi" hanging at the end of the corridor shone with golden light. This was the unique echo between the original owner and the calligraphy treasure he left behind.

Lin Su's heart was greatly moved, and he looked for a long time in the direction where Deng Xianchu disappeared. A generation of great scholars, who met each other and flew to heaven and earth in the blink of an eye, this is a scholar! This is the direction he is looking for!

His gaze finally returned slowly and turned to Lei Dongyang: "Mr. Lei, can this poem written by freehand still be of any interest to you?"

Made with ease...

Cough... Lei Dongyang started to cough.

"Anti-poetry!" Zhang Xiu shouted: "A brave man dares to write an anti-poetry. Are you going to rebel?"

Everyone was shocked.

"Your father once guarded the southeast, and you designated your father as the Southeast Golden Tianzhu. Then, where do you place your majesty? A faint king who overthrew the pillar of the imperial court? Based on this, you want to recruit troops for your father, and have a full house of flowers and drunkenness. Thousands of guests, one sword frost-freezes forty states!"

The hair on Lin Su's body exploded, I'm like C!

Why did you forget that there was a literary prison in feudal society?

Did you lose it on your first appearance?

Once this poem reaches the capital, and the Minister of War instigates it from the side, this fatuous emperor will definitely kill someone! The entire Lin family is in danger!

The imperial power is supreme, how to explain the death caused by oneself?

Lin Su's mind was spinning rapidly, and an idea came to mind. This idea was very dangerous, but it was the only way.

"Originally it was just a poem expressing one's ambition, but it was maliciously interpreted by villains. I can't figure it out. There is only one way, please ask the Holy Word!"

He raised his hand, and half of the incense appeared in his palm. This incense was extremely special. It was golden in color, like half a gold bar. This was the holy incense.

Burn the holy incense and reach to heaven!

Holy incense is a channel for communication between scholars and saints. It is extremely precious. It is one of the high-end five treasures specialized in the Confucian Temple. Its value is comparable to the same amount of gold. Not to mention that ordinary people are not qualified to use it. Even authentic scholars can only use it. When you advance to the next level, you are limited to purchasing one stick. The half stick in Lin Su's hand was taken from his second brother's study.

He originally planned to set a trap and use this half stick of incense to take Zhang Xiu into the ditch (such as quietly lighting holy incense and using modern language and psychology to lure Zhang Xiu into saying disrespectful words to all saints), but at this moment , he committed suicide, and could only use this half incense to save his life. In front of the imperial power, only Sheng Yu could save him.

The saints are truly supreme.

As long as he passed the test of saints, no one in the world would dare to trouble him about this poem.

If the situation was not critical, he would not dare to put the copied poems in front of the saints, because he did not know whether the saints would see through it. If the saints found out that he was a copycat, he would be really doomed.

But now, there is no second way, he must take a gamble.

When the incense was lit, everyone in the place was shocked. They left the table and fell to their knees!

The incense has been burned, which means that this restaurant is under the eyes of the saints.

Everyone's heart was pounding...

Lin Sudao: "I would like to report to all the sages, my disciple Lin Su, that a poem was maliciously interpreted by someone, and the consequences were extremely serious. The rise of literature and art should have been inclusive, and poetry can also be evidence of crime. Who dares to write poems and essays? How can Taoism prosper? Please make the decision for me, saints!"

The clouds in the sky suddenly parted, and a desolate voice sounded: "The poem is here!"

A layer of cold sweat broke out on Zhang Xiu's back.

The Word appears?

Although every scholar can theoretically have direct access to the saints, 99% of them only contribute unilaterally. What does that mean? As long as you pray to the saints, you won't get even a single word from them.

Today the holy words are spoken as if they are in the presence of a saint.

How can this boy be so virtuous? How could it be possible that the Word was opened for him?

This is not a good sign.

Lin Su's heart was greatly relieved, and he used psychology.

The saints are aloof and will not care about the life or death of an ordinary person, but they must care about the prosperity or failure of the literary path, and whether the literary path is smooth or not.

If literature and art are not flourishing, the school founded by the saint cannot be carried forward. For the saint, this is simply digging his ancestral grave.

Doesn’t setting up literary prisons hinder the prosperity of culture? Sensitive words in modern online articles are blocked, and writers feel that writing is not easy, let alone in a feudal society? If everyone needs to check all the taboo things before creating, then why bother writing? How can literature flourish?

Sure enough, his tickling opening remarks had a huge effect, and the saint spoke!

Submit the poem?

How to submit?

Lin Su was stunned for a moment and then remembered that it was recorded in "Miscellaneous Talks on Literary and Art" that the poems written to the saints could not be recited, nor were they conventional pen and ink, but precious ink and paper, which he did not have.

"Who has precious ink and paper? Let me borrow it!" Lin Su looked at the shopkeeper of Haining Building.

"Get the precious ink paper quickly!" Although the shopkeeper's heart was also blown by the strong wind, he was also very excited. His precious ink paper has become the carrier of conveying information face to face with the saint. What an honor is this?

A piece of gold paper and a gold filament are precious ink paper. Under normal circumstances, ink is also needed, but high-end gold filaments are two-in-one. Within the gold filaments, there are mysteries and the blood of strange beasts. Within the golden hair, it is inexhaustible.

In the face of the saint, what Haininglou brought was naturally the best.

Lin Su held the gold in hand and began to write...

Expensive means people are not free to come...

White light suddenly floated on the paper, and there were three strips of light as soon as they appeared.

Poems are written on ordinary paper, so there is no mystery, but if they are written on precious ink and paper, they will be judged immediately.

The poems are divided into seven levels, from lowest to highest:

Grass poetry means that it is no different from ordinary weeds. It is not suitable for Dharma eyes at all, so it is colorless and lightless.

"Floating poem" means that this poem is a highlight of the day and is given a floating light.

White light poetry means that during this month, the poetry will be the most popular, and it will be given three white lights.

Silver Light Poetry is quite a highlight of the year. Give me a silver light.

Golden Light Poems, rare masterpieces within ten years, are given with golden light.

Colorful poems, masterpieces written within a hundred years, are recorded in the colorful glow.

Colorful poems can be passed down for thousands of years, and are recorded in the colorful glow.

Eternal blue sky poems, poems will be immortal for thousands of years, regarded as legends.

As soon as Lin Su started writing, there were three streaks of white light. This was the sign of a white light poem. It was truly extraordinary. Everyone's eyes were wide open and they couldn't believe it. How could he write a white light poem? Could it be that Lin Jialiang really made preparations in advance and asked this third brother to come prepared with his most proud works? But Lin Jialiang himself only wrote one white light poem, and it was that inspired poem that made him one of the top ten talents in Quzhou.

After that, I couldn’t write anything anyway.

The Lin family suffered a huge change, and you, Lin Jialiang, actually opened up your literary career?

Is there any heavenly principle?

When Lin Su finished writing the second sentence, there was a sudden gasp, and the white light on the paper turned into a faint silver!

When the third sentence came out, the silver light was dazzling, and the whole place was petrified. The masterpiece of the year appeared in Haining Tower like this?

When the fourth sentence comes out, a sword freezes the forty states, and there is a soft chirping sound, and the golden light fills the ground!

Before anyone could scream in surprise, the golden light suddenly changed into a colorful glow!

The whole place was petrified!

Poems become colorful and a century-old legend!

The next four lines of the poem were written quickly. As the last stroke fell, the glow changed again, and the colorful colors filled the entire restaurant.

A peerless poem that can be passed down for thousands of years!

There was a chirp, like a steel seal falling from the sky, and six words appeared above the poem: Haining Yongzhi, Lin Su!

The poem rises with the wind and reaches the sky.

Lin Su was dumbfounded.

The poem became colorful. As he expected, this poem had been circulated for thousands of years!

The only thing that surprised him was that he did not write a title, nor did he write about himself as the author, but his name was left on the poem manuscript, and there was also a title, inscribed by the saint himself!

He did not write the author's name, but he had a small thought in it. He was worried that the saint would know that the poem was copied, so he did not dare to sign it.

But the sage directly added a title to him, directly positioning him as the author.

Now it gets interesting.

I didn’t say that this poem was written by me. It was the judgment of the sage. If something happens to the gang, the sage will take the blame...

What’s more interesting is: this means that the saints don’t know the origin of this poem, and they can’t cross the two time and space!

His copying path is infinitely high in an instant, and he can copy until the sky is dark and the earth is dark, and the sun and the moon lack light...

A desolate voice came from the air: "It is not easy to turn a poem into seven colors. I will give you your literary skills and practice well!"

The poem in the air suddenly turned into a colorful phoenix, falling from the sky and covering Lin Su's body. As soon as the colorful light faded, a root suddenly appeared under the dead branch in Lin Su's mind. As soon as this root came out, this dead tree Alive, it is no longer a dead tree, but a tree full of vitality. The leaves on the tree are also swaying with infinite aura, as if they suddenly have life. Lin Su is familiar with the profound and obscure scriptures in his brain. His understanding has been greatly improved, and even his memory has become incredible. All the books he has ever read, just a few words, are all clearly presented...

Lin Su's heart was pounding. He had literary roots, and his literary skills were activated. The dead tree in his brain was indeed closely related to literary skills. Having literary roots was like painting a dragon and lighting up the sky, which could not be replicated in the nine heavens. All abilities related to literature are all rolled up and down...

The whole crowd was even more petrified.

Holy gift of Wengen? What are you doing today?

The original intention was to suppress the Lin family beyond redemption, but in the end, the Lin family turned out to be a genius? …

"Thank you, Holy Master!" Lin Su said, "Thanks to the Holy Master for recognizing my disciple's poems and giving him the gift of literary talent. I am so heartbroken that I have no way to repay you, but I still have one thing to say, which I dare not not say."

The sky is silent, but the mystery remains.

Lin Su raised his head and said: "What I want to say is related to the rise of contemporary literature. Literature is like a road. If it is opened, it will prosper, and if it is closed, it will be ruined. How many literati have upheld the great aspirations of the saints and pioneered all the way forward, so that we can have today's literature." In the prosperous age of Taoism, however, some insidious villains have come out of nowhere to set up a prison of literature and want to cut off the roots of literature and Taoism. If this trend is not eliminated, the consequences will be endless!"

Zhang Xiu’s whole body was shaken!

He suddenly felt a huge sense of crisis...

"That makes sense!" The word "Tian Tian" came, and there was a chirp. Zhang Xiu screamed, and his whole body shrank into a ball. The center of his eyebrows was a little blood red, and the literary world inside his eyebrows had been torn apart.

The clouds in the sky cleared away, and the holy incense burned to its end at this moment.