sjar Chapter 12 That's not necessarily true!
Chapter 12 That's not necessarily true!
Chapter Twelve: That's not necessarily true!
After this poem about homesickness appeared, the brilliance of his talent was revealed, but the brilliance was not particularly intense.
Although this poem expresses sorrow, it is only personal sorrow, barely reaching the pinnacle of moral cultivation.
All three looked at Ye Ru. Although the poem wasn't particularly outstanding, it was still of average quality.
"Although lacking in talent, he still reached the peak of moral cultivation, which shows that his choice of words is quite perfect."
Fang Zifeng's expression changed, and he thought to himself, then glanced nervously at Ye Ru.
Ye Ru had never written a poem about homesickness, which immediately revealed the difference between the two.
"Brother Ye, what do you think of my poem? I wonder if you can write a poem of this caliber?"
Tong Xiao's arrogance was exceptionally obvious.
"Although the poems are famous, the talent is dim, which proves that the sorrow is only concerned with personal sorrow. It can barely be considered as above average, not true homesickness. It is merely above the level of cultivating virtue, but not quite reaching the level of a saint."
Ye Ru raised his head, smiled slightly, and shook his head in evaluation.
"A person of little learning yet quick-witted; you are but a child, not a true genius!"
He Shengming snorted coldly and retorted in kind.
Fang Zifeng also looked at Ye Ru with concern. Tong Xiao's poem was well-chosen, with phrases like "guest's heart" and "family letter," all of which proved the sentiment of homesickness.
"Fight to the bitter end! I refuse to believe you can write a better poem than me!"
Tong Xiao scoffed and said.
Ye Ru, with his hands behind his back, took two steps forward and chanted:
"The country is broken by mountains and rivers, but the city is springy and has deep vegetation."
"The flowers shed tears when they feel the time, and the birds are frightened when they feel the separation."
"Fenghuo lasted for three months, and the family letter was worth ten thousand gold."
"My white hair is getting shorter and shorter, and I can hardly hold a hairpin."
"Spring View" is a poem written by Du Fu, a great poet of the Tang Dynasty.
A poem is uttered, and three feet of yellow ink flow forth with talent—a poem of the highest caliber, a masterpiece!
The golden talent is more than ten times stronger than the talent for cultivating virtue in Tong Xiao's poem!
Upon seeing that dazzling golden aura of talent, both He Shengming and Fang Zifeng gasped.
Tong Xiao's eyes widened in disbelief.
As everyone was in shock, a beam of light shot straight into the sky and quickly headed towards the National Holy Academy.
National Holy Academy.
A scholar was dozing off when suddenly the jade pendant containing his poems jingled, and its light entered the Xuan paper on the table, forming a row of glittering golden characters. These characters were none other than Ye Ru's earlier poem, "Spring View"!
"Wonderful! It's actually a battle poem that can boost the morale of the army!"
"If this astonishing poem is reported to the Holy Academy and then sung by the great Confucian scholar of the pass, it will surely become a war poem that will be known throughout the world!"
The scholar was sobered up by the sudden turn of events, but after reading it, his expression gradually changed from normal to one of deep horror!
"Excellent! This poem can boost the army's combat effectiveness by at least 10%!"
In the Confucian and Taoist continent, the human race, the demon race, the monster race, and the dragon race fought endlessly for thousands of years. Later, the supreme sage Confucius, Lao Tzu, and the great Buddhist disciple joined forces to seal the demons and monsters, and also joined forces with the dragon race.
As the saying goes, "One is born in hardship and dies in comfort," and soon after, the Confucian and Taoist continent experienced a rare period of peace. From then on, every scholar pursued their own path to enlightenment, but the number of literary and military poems gradually decreased.
This gave the demons an opportunity to launch a comeback.
"This matter is of great importance and we must consult the Holy Tribunal of the Holy Council on whether it should be included in the war poem."
The scholar then hurriedly left the National Holy Academy.
……
"The first four lines of this poem depict the desolate and dilapidated scene of the capital in spring, filled with a sense of loss and regret. The last four lines express the poet's longing for his family and concern for the country, overflowing with sorrow and grief. Taking a broad perspective and looking at the whole nation, this poem is probably a war poem that is more inclined to boost the morale of the army!"
"The poem is strictly metrical. The second couplet responds to the lament of the country's destruction in the first couplet with 'flowers shed tears in sorrow for the times,' and the third couplet responds to the sorrow of missing home with 'birds startled by the pain of parting.' The final couplet emphasizes that the depth of sorrow has led to white and sparse hair. The antithesis is exquisite, and the tone is tragic and majestic."
"This sentiment of national unity, expressed with weighty words but understated meaning, is ingeniously conceived and possesses a subtle and profound charm."
Fang Zifeng savored the book, feeling his talent slowly growing, and his long-dormant confidence in writing began to strengthen.
"Your talent is improving!"
He Shengming sensed this aura, snapped out of his shock, and looked at Fang Zifeng with jealousy.
"You won this round."
He Shengming's face was grim, but he had to admit Ye Ru's talent.
Tong Xiao's expression shifted between light and dark, and then she said angrily:
"This was something you planned a long time ago, wasn't it? Is this considered impromptu composition? No wonder you rushed to come up with the idea first. Since ancient times, whether it's a literary contest or a physical contest, there's always a best-of-three rule. To be fair, shall we have another poetry contest?"
After these words were spoken, turning black into white, Tong Xiao's confidence wavered.
Upon hearing this, Ye Ru's face darkened. It was the other party who had asked Fang Zifeng to make the decision, but now they were turning around and blaming him.
"Since Brother Tong is not willing to give up, then I will accompany you for another round."
Ye Ru said.
"can."
Fang Zifeng said calmly.
"Ye Ru, how about we have a word-writing contest this time? A battle of words!"
Tong Xiao said sternly that he had previously used a loophole to win this opportunity, and if he could not win again, his talent and courage would be hindered in the future.
Therefore, we must win!
"word?"
Fang Zifeng's heart sank. Although Ye Ru was an exceptional poet, even more talented than the top scholars in the imperial examinations, he had never seen Ye Ru write lyrics.
Tong Xiao had killed hundreds of enemies on the northern border of Ningbei and had witnessed the hardships of war, so writing war poems was naturally a piece of cake for him.
Unexpectedly, Ye Ru fell for it after just a few words, which is not good.
“A gentleman is willing to help others achieve their goals, Brother Tong, please.”
Ye Ru smiled calmly, like a hermit sage.
"Hmph, Brother Ye, you don't know this yet, do you? Among the two schools of poetry and lyrics, my poems are not famous, but my lyrics are. Moreover, battle lyrics are also my specialty."
Seeing Ye Ru agree, Tong Xiao laughed heartily and said triumphantly.
"Tong Xiao, write a battle poem for them to see. This time, it's a tie."
He Shengming smiled as well, glancing at the nonchalant Ye Ru, and inwardly scoffed:
"To know what you know, and to admit what you don't know, is to accept your ignorance. You'll soon run out of ideas!"
"A blood-red moon hangs over the city walls, a hundred battles fought, the moonlight cold. Half the city is shrouded in smoke and sand, half in blood. A general is defeated, but the tea grows cold and the man dies, leaving only sorrow."
"The murderous aura is like blood-red clouds, the war drums thunder like lightning. When we return victorious, ten thousand bones will be withered, and the mournful cries of soldiers will be heard."
Upon completion of the poem, a golden aura of talent emanated from the poet, reaching a height of three feet, directly overshadowing Ye Ru's previous golden aura.
Upon seeing the golden light, Fang Zifeng's previous joy vanished, replaced by a gloomy expression.
Unless Ye Ru can create a high-level, astonishing poem, he will lose this round.
"Looks like you're going to lose."
Tong Xiao raised her head, looked at Ye Ru, her provocation intensified, and then said sarcastically.
He refused to believe that the young man before him was truly incapable of both poetry and prose.
He Shengming and Fang Zifeng also looked at Ye Ru, only to see the latter raise his head, his fearless voice echoing around them:
"Not necessarily!"