Happy Little Scholar
Chapter 22 Qixi Poetry Festival
The burning rosin heated the air, and the sky praying lantern slowly rose into the sky. The fire gradually faded away, became smaller and smaller, and finally merged into the stars in the sky.
The girl clasped her hands together, her pretty face full of piety, and her heart filled with beautiful wishes as she watched the sky-praying lantern drift away.
After releasing the sky lanterns to pray for blessings, there are more steps. The girls are laughing, the naughty children are making noises, and the entire Liuye Village is in a boiling atmosphere.
Li Yi was leaning against a big tree under the Qiao Tower, his eyes and thoughts drifting into the distance following the prayer lantern. At this time, he was incompatible with the festive atmosphere.
Being a stranger in a foreign land, I miss my family even more during the festive season.
The loneliness and desolation of life in a foreign land have never been so clear. The more active the surrounding atmosphere became, the more Li Yi's feelings that had been hidden deep in his heart became apparent until he could no longer suppress them.
His mother's nagging often made him feel impatient, and a few insane friends also made him feel careless in making friends. He often scolded the evil boss behind his back for working overtime without paying overtime, and occasionally lamented the mess. Life……
But these... are the things he misses the most now!
Li Yi, who had never been very sentimental, could not help but burst into tears at this moment.
On top of the clever building, a woman with her arms folded and holding a sword stood there, looking at the figure not far away, revealing a side she had never seen before, and there was a slight strange color on her pretty face, unexpectedly A mixture of astonishment and surprise...
It was only then that she discovered that the down-and-out scholar whom she thought she had seen through seemed to be covered with another layer of mystery.
"Uncle..."
A pretty figure ran over from a distance. The little maid's pretty face was full of smiles, and her eyes were bent into crescent moons. She lifted up the hem of her clothes and said to Li Yi in a show-off manner: "Uncle, I stole some Qiaoguo from there. …”
Suddenly, as if something happened, the crisp voice became panicked, "Uncle, you...why are you crying?"
Li Yi flicked his sleeves, wiped away the tears on his face without leaving a trace, and said with a smile: "It's okay, there was sand in his eyes just now."
"Uncle, please take these sweet fruits and Xiaohuan will help you blow them..."
Amidst the girl's cautious blowing, a certain sky-praying lantern that was the first to rise into the sky, because the rosin was almost burned out, swayed for a few times in the high altitude, and then slowly fell down in a certain direction.
In the dark night, the stars reflected huge shadows, and a magnificent city appeared in the flickering lights.
The tall city wall separates the inside and outside into two worlds. The outside of the city is lonely and deserted, but the atmosphere inside the city is almost boiling.
The sounds of hawking and shouting are mixed with the deafening sound of gongs, drums and firecrackers... For the people living in this city, the nightlife has just begun.
On the main roads in the city, there is already an endless stream of cars and horses before dark. Outside the tall courtyard walls of some wealthy people, a corner of a colorful building is occasionally exposed. In the streets and alleys, prostitutes run restaurants and display various items. At the door, the luxury of face-to-face competition...
The sparkling waves reflected the lights on the river, and there was an endless stream of boats and boats. Singing and laughter lingered on the river, rising and falling, falling and rising again.
At this time, on a certain slowly moving two-story boat, a small poetry meeting had reached its climax.
"Brother Su is so talented that my foolish brother is beyond compare..."
"Brother Su's beautiful words tonight are probably going to take the first place."
"Haha, I just got it occasionally. Of course I don't dare to name the first place. I still need your comments and corrections."
"Brother Su is too modest. When it comes to Chinese Valentine's Day poems, no one here can compare to you..."
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It seemed that a certain young student had produced excellent lyrics, which aroused admiration from everyone around him. After the young man surnamed Su excused himself for a few words, he inevitably showed a proud expression on his face.
Although tonight is just a small poetry meeting, only a few unknown poetry clubs are participating. Even if the work can be top-notch, it can only be circulated in a small area. By tomorrow, I am afraid it will be drowned in the vast sea of poetry. In progress.
But at least at this moment, the young man surnamed Su is still very grateful for the praise from the people around him. If a singer sings it later, his vanity will be greatly satisfied.
"Hmph, you are saying this nonsense before the poetry meeting is over. Isn't it too early to be complacent?"
Amidst all the compliments, there was suddenly a cold snort, which was naturally particularly harsh.
Everyone turned around with angry expressions and saw several figures walking towards this side.
"It's Bailu Poetry Club."
Seeing the appearance of those people, everyone frowned slightly, obviously not looking forward to seeing each other.
This is not surprising. Since ancient times, literati have looked down on each other. They belong to different poetry societies, and they are not very fond of each other on weekdays. In the poetry society, it is even more competitive, especially since the other party just made rude remarks, so naturally they will not give them anything. Good look.
"Oh, I wonder if Brother Fang has any advice?" The young man named Su asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I can't speak of advice. It's just that I accidentally got a Chinese Valentine's Day poem. Why don't I ask the literary friends from Dongli Poetry Society to correct me?" A young man in a green gown at the front said calmly.
"All ears."
The young man surnamed Fang was not polite. There was pen and ink on the table beside him. He simply picked up the pen, pondered for a moment, and then started writing on the white paper.
Everyone's eyes naturally fell on the table at the same time. When the young man named Fang was halfway through writing, the faces of the group headed by the young man named Su changed slightly, and their expressions became a little unnatural.
"The style is sad and melancholy. It uses the morning glory and the Weaver Girl to describe the joys and sorrows of the world. It's such a good poem. I'm afraid Su Wentian is not even close to Fangzhou."
People who can participate in the poetry meeting have more or less cultural background. At this time, everyone around saw that the poems written by the young man named Fang were superior to those written by Su Wentian before, both in terms of word choice and conception.
This is generally the case in poetry gatherings. Even good words that are rare in ordinary times are often compared with others. It is not uncommon for people who were previously unknown to become famous with a good word, and gain both fame and fortune. .
This is the charm of poetry.
Defeated by his opponent, the young man surnamed Su took the Dongli Poetry Club members to another place in despair. The victorious Bailu Poetry Club began to enjoy the praise of everyone. At this time, no one noticed that a singer who had just finished singing Ji walked out of the ship's hall and came to the deck.
The singer looked up, with a slight smile on her face. She climbed up the stairs to the top, walked to the carved railing on the side, and smiled at the woman who was leaning on the railing and looking at the river: "Why? People are coming up, there are a few people who have good lyrics just now, do you want to go down and have a look?"
The woman turned her head slightly, revealing a beautiful face, and smiled and said: "It's okay if you don't look at it. Although the words are different, they are mostly like "joy is short", sad and sad, nothing new, and my ears are almost ready. I heard the cocoon."
The singer smiled bitterly: "I wonder what those talented people downstairs would think if they learned that Miss Wan described them like this?"
The beautiful woman on the side was about to speak when she suddenly looked up. The singer also felt something. When she looked up, she suddenly saw a subtle flash of fire, and then a white shadow fell from the sky. , landed at the feet of the two of them.
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