Chapter 25: A Thousand Jin of Paper, Words Becoming a National Treasure!
“Leaning against the precarious tower, the wind is faint, gazing at the boundless spring sorrow, dimly rising to the horizon.”
Cai Xianggao looked at it while unconsciously reciting it.
In the mont he recited it, he saw a surge of orange literary energy suddenly leap onto the paper, erupting forth.
The literary energy gushed out, faintly forming a phenonon.
“This is…” Cai Xianggao’s pupils suddenly shrank to the size of a needlepoint, emitting an incredulous sharp cry.
“A line reaches the master’s level!”
Just a line!
Just one line, and it had already reached the master’s level.
In other words, this one line surpassed half a poem that Cai Xianggao had just written.
But strictly speaking, writing poetry wasn’t calculated like this.
Both poetry and lyrics emphasized a feeling.
So poems start off ordinary but were ticulously laid out, with the final line being the finishing touch, turning the ordinary into sothing miraculous.
There were also poems that start strong but end weakly, disappointing the reader and becoming diocre works.
But Ye Ning was different.
His opening line was simply a trump card!
Just one line, and it reached the master’s level.
Could such poetry fail?
Would it fail?
If this poem could be completed in its entirety, what level would it ultimately reach?
Cai Xianggao had forgotten that he was competing with Ye Ning.
His instinct as a scholar had been awakened.
He just wanted to witness the ergence of a great work at this mont.
The crowd held their breath, quietly waiting for Ye Ning to continue writing.
Like Cai Xianggao, they felt they were about to witness history.
Ye Ning held the brush and wrote the next line gently.
“In the green grass and misty light of the setting sun, who can understand the sentint at the railing without speaking.”
As soon as he finished writing, the literary energy erupted once again.
Every written word emitted a brilliant golden light.
The majestic literary energy within Ye Ning surged forth, stirring the fragrance of ink, releasing it hundreds of tis more than before.
Even the people outside the Spring Wind Pavilion could sll the fragrance of ink.
“The pen is like a blooming flower, and the ink fragrance spreads for miles…”
The beard of the old scholar trembled, his eyes moist.
What kind of poem is this?
It even produced a vision.
The mont the vision appeared, the literary energy erupted again, and everyone’s eyes blurred for a mont, suddenly feeling desolation and loneliness.
The emotions conveyed in this poem directly infected them.
“Marvelous! Lord Ye’s poem has reached the level of Mingzhou!” soone shouted.
He was so excited that tears fell. What kind of person am I? I’m so lucky to witness this great mont!
It made him feel that even if he died at this mont, this life would be worth it.
“Don’t make noise!” Liu Sanyuan shouted lowly, then tremblingly said, “Brother Ye, please continue.”
He was afraid that outsiders would disturb Ye Ning.
Ye Ning was not affected at all. He continued to write.
“Intending to depict a carefree scene with a single drink, but singing with wine, forced happiness is tasteless.”
As this line was written, the scholars collectively froze, still savoring the taste within it.
But within the Spring Wind Pavilion, there was already a low sobbing.
It was the eight leading courtesans, unable to help but shed tears.
This “Butterflies in Love with Flowers” was written by Liu Yong, who was the most understanding poet of won’s emotions in that era.
His poetry moved countless won of passion.
Therefore, he could linger in the brothels without paying.
It could be said that his poetry had a nuclear-level impact on won.
Especially for the won of the brothel, when they thought of their lives, they seed to have smiles on their faces every day, but how much of it was sincere?
Doesn’t “forced happiness is tasteless” fit them perfectly?
The literary energy erupted for the third ti, converging in the sky into a rainbow.
The emotions conveyed in the poem were faintly sad, magnifying in everyone’s hearts.
Won shed tears one after another.
And those n with stories empathized and sighed.
Only the last sentence was left.
The scholars who barely maintained their composure suppressed their heartache, waiting for the final sentence.
This sentence was the most crucial.
If it could end without losing its quality, it might beco a “national treasure”!
Under the attention of the world, Ye Ning slowly finished writing.
Beside him, Liu Sanyuan’s eyes widened, unconsciously reciting, “The belt gradually widens, but in the end, there is no regret, for her sake, one becos haggard…”
The line was written.
The entire Spring Wind Pavilion was filled with suppressed sobs.
This line of poetry vividly depicted the sadness of the brothel won.
They seed to be flourishing and admired by n.
But no matter how much they were admired, weren’t they still just playthings?
Every day indulging in revelry and pleasure, seemingly happy, but at night, it was endless pain.
n sought pleasure and often made promises.
If believed, what was mostly gained was sorrow.
But if not believed, people always had hope, right?
Who wouldn’t hope for a day when they could have a trusted husband who could give them a future? But what did they ultimately get?
It could only be “for her sake, one becos haggard”.
The aning of a poem needs to be savored individually.
Each person had a different perspective, and the taste they savor was also different.
But for these brothel won, their fondness for Ye Ning soared like a rocket.
“Lord Ye… no, Lord Ye is the man in this world who understands us won the most!”
Whether they were the eight leading courtesans or other girls in the Spring Wind Pavilion, their eyes, now watery, were fixed on Ye Ning.
There were thousands of thoughts and countless tender feelings among them.
If Ye Ning was willing, they would gladly offer themselves to him.
After a brief mont of emotion, the attention of the scholars was drawn to the surging literary energy.
The rainbow ford by the convergence of literary energy turned into a golden rainbow.
Suddenly, it flew out of the Spring Wind Pavilion and spread over the capital, turning into countless brilliant colors.
The paper on which Ye Ning’s poem was written suddenly burst into a dazzling golden light.
Liu Sanyuan reached out to take it, only to feel that the paper weighed over a thousand jin!
“A thousand jin of paper… This is, words becoming a national treasure!”
The whole room was in an uproar.
Ye Ning actually wrote a national treasure poem!
Reviews
All reviews (0)