Yong Palace, the peak literary meeting!

Nearly ten thousand scholars sat cross-legged and discussed poetry and prose with the thirty-two great scholars.

Chen Ping stood up and independent of the Confucian clan.

"Today's peak literary conference, we invite everyone to come. Not only can we appreciate the articles of our thirty-two brothers, but if you have any good articles, you can also share them!" Chen Ping said with a smile.

As soon as Chen Ping said, some people were ready to move. Who wouldn’t write two verses? If you can take this opportunity to show your talent today, you will be famous in Julu City tomorrow. Of course, writing poetry is risky. If you write well, you will naturally be passed down by everyone. If you write poorly, your reputation will be ruined.

However, even if there are risks, many people still have waves of expectations.

"The first song, let me hold a brick and attract jade!" Chen Ping smiled slightly when he saw some people being ready to move.

Some attendants held a lot of pens and ink. Some attendants quickly brought in huge monuments of ten feet high.

Chen Ping grabbed the brush, looked at the stone tablet, and immediately picked up the pen and wrote it on the stele.

As the pen fell, white light burst out, and Haoran's righteous spirit suddenly emitted dazzling light under the pen, and the light was even brighter at night, and above the Yong Hall, it was extremely dazzling.

In the distance, Dongfang Zhengpai and Meow Meow from the Oriental Palace also stood aside and watched.

"Just write about Haoran's righteousness, but that's it!" Meow Meow said disdainfully.

Meow meow disdain, but thousands of scholars and scholars in the distance were applauding.

I saw a poem on the giant monument in a blink of an eye -

A man of madness and despair has become a man of old age, and he is independent of his study and whistling in the evening breeze; he has nowhere to sell his reputation under his pen, and he is thrown into the wild vines!—

A poem is completed, and the stone tablet is surrounded by righteousness, white light shines everywhere, and it is shining brightly.

"good!"

The cry of admiration of Confucian scholars suddenly came from a distance.

"What a f*ck!" Dongfang Zheng shouted immediately.

"What's wrong?" Meow asked.

"This is obviously aimed at Yan Chuan. He is crazy? He is down and out? He is independent in the study? He is seeking fame at the bottom of his pen? He is idle? Isn't this scolding Yan Chuan?" Dongfang Zheng said angrily.

"Meow Meow, that bastard is not a thing!" Meow Meow also looked into the distance angrily.

Dongfang Zhengpai and Meow Meow were extremely angry outside the Dongfang Palace.

There is a compliment in the mediocre hall far away. Many Confucian scholars also saw the point of this poem, but, Master said, repaying grievances with righteousness with virtue. It is not a gentleman who does not repay grudges if he has grudges.

If Chen Ping was so generous that he repayed kindness with grievances, he would be puzzled by the scholars. Only by fighting back in this way can he show his gentlemanly style.

Amid the compliment, Chen Ping smiled slightly and said, "Among the teachers and their disciples, they are at the bottom and are also the least literary person. If you have any ideas, you can comment at will!"

"The great scholars are modest!" The scholars and cultivators said with a smile.

"Just just to throw bricks and jade, if you have good writings, you can also keep your pens. This time, we have prepared hundreds of stone tablets for meticulous writing and writing, and erected them here for generations to admire. Those who write will be named for eternity!" Chen Ping said.

As soon as Chen Ping said this, countless people were ready to move. Some people kept recalling their previous poems in their hearts, and they were qualified to be on the monument!

Chen Ping narrowed his eyes and smiled, took a casual look at the Dongfang Hall opposite him, and sat down proudly.

The first poem is not only for the purpose of bringing bricks and attracting jade, but sometimes it is also the theme of a literary association. It is aimed at Yan Chuan, and it is already the goal of a long sword.

No matter what article is, it is all about increasing the bargaining chips of the first poem. One by one, one must suppress Yan Chuan on the opposite side to feel ashamed!

Many Confucian scholars praised and shouted, and some of the thirty-two great Confucian scholars came out to write poems.

The same great aura soared into the sky, shining brightly on all directions of Yong Hall.

The second stone tablet is erected, and it is another popular and good article.

"good!"

There were a lot of praise, and then some scholars participated in the meeting to recommend poems. Of course, only those who could write a great spirit in their pen had the courage to write.

One monument was erected, and a series of great auras rushed into the night sky and went straight into the sky.

Countless onlookers from all directions were amazed by this grand event.

The grand event gradually entered a high tide.

At this time, another great scholar mentioned the words to an inscription—

The mountains, rivers and the universe come, but I don’t believe that swords fly and paint them into rocks. The four characters Xuanni once said nothing, but I’m so sorry for the beautiful scenery that I am foolish—

The great scholar's writings are also powerful and upright, and they are much more vigorous than the previous ones.

"call!"

A strong wind blew across the world, and in the strong wind, it was like a hint of moist rain.

The strong wind blew towards the entire Yong Hall, and the black hair of the Confucian scholars danced and their robes swayed gently.

The practitioners of Guangzhechang suddenly became quiet.

"The pen is shocked by the wind and rain?" Suddenly, a Confucian scholar exclaimed.

"The pen falls and shocks the wind and rain, it is really the pen falls and shocks the wind and rain! This, this……!”

Many Confucian scholars were moved. This is an extremely high level of calligraphy. Some Confucian scholars could never reach in their lifetime.

The pen falls in shock?

"That's the fiftieth disciple of the great wise Sima Yuntian!" A Confucian scholar immediately recognized it.

The scholars and scholars showed surprise.

The fiftieth disciple can make a pen shocking storm?

The pen is shocked by the wind and rain. Once this article is published, there is no more Confucian scholar writing.

Only a group of great scholars remained.

The great scholars all smiled on their faces and found that today's literary meeting was really worth it. Not only did they suppress Yan Chuan, but after today, Sima Yuntian's 72 disciples' fame will definitely make another leap.

"Meow, the pen is shocking the wind and rain. What's so great about it? Just this little wind, Yan Chuan's left hand writing is a thousand times better than him!" Meow Meow said sourly.

"Do you think the pen is a cabbage!" Dongfang Zhengpao said unbelievable.

"If you don't believe it!" Meow Meow said disdainfully.

Next, the 49th disciple, the 48th disciple……………

A group of great scholars wrote one after another. The following Confucian scholars all wrote in shocking wind and rain.

Haoran's righteous spirit has turned the world around Yong Hall white. What is shining like daytime? The surrounding Yong Hall is shining like daytime!

Even anywhere in Julu City, Yong Hall is now hanging in the air like a bright moon, extremely dazzling.

In comparison, the Eastern Palace was completely overshadowed.

At this moment, in the eyes of all the scholars, Yan Chuan had already been nothing, and had already been demoted to a certain extent in everyone's hearts.

The stone tablets are like mountains, pressing the Eastern Palace to the death.

Many great scholars wrote one after another, leaving only the last great scholar, Wang Long.

Wang raised his body, and Chen Ping also stood up.

"Everyone! Senior Brother forty-one is the leader of our many scholars. Senior Brother's articles are not only shocking the wind and rain." Chen Ping smiled.

"oh?"

Nearly ten thousand Confucians and cultivators showed excitement. At this moment, everything seemed to be pushing towards the highest tide. Is the great Confucian Wang Long going to take action?

"If you have any literary ghosts, you can take them out to judge the senior brother's article!" Chen Ping smiled.

"Wen Gui?" Nearly ten thousand Rei Xiu's expression moved.

Suddenly, among the nearly 10,000 Confucian scholars, many of them had a turn of hand and green light appeared in the palm of their palms.

As soon as the green light came out, it suddenly flew into the sky and surrounded the vast field of Yong Hall. It seemed like countless ghosts were flying.

"Is this?" Meow Meow looked at the Eastern Decent.

"This is called Wen Gui. It is a resentful spirit baptized by Confucian cultivators with Haoran's righteousness. After being baptized by Haoran's righteousness, these resentful spirits lost their past memories and were taken in by Confucian cultivators. This can reflect the quality of some articles!" Dongfang Zhengsai explained.

"Meow, literary ghost? Confucian cultivators still raise ghosts?" Meow said in surprise.

"It can't be considered a ghost anymore. If you lose your ghost energy and have literary energy, you can just act like a demon pet!" Dongfang Zhengpai explained.

"Meow!" Meow Meow seemed to understand.

In the distance, thousands of ghosts flew towards the stone tablets in all directions, as if they felt the attraction of the stone tablets and were surrounded by endlessly.

Wang Long also grabbed the brush.

He touched his beard and smiled and said, "I used to travel around the world with my teacher and passed by a mountain temple. I felt something. I accidentally got literary thoughts. I hope you can comment together!"

Wanru held his breath and waited.

I saw Wang Long pick up his pen and write it on the stone tablet.

On the way to write, the ghost of the literary world that originally surrounded the four stone tablets gradually flocked to Wang Longzhi's place-

The deep white clouds call me a Zen habitat, so I visited Yunguan to find a question. The dense snow buried the stream and the monks had not yet swept it. In the spring, the trees and birds were singing.
To be continued...