Chapter 40: Who can compete with Qiandu?
Everyone at the poetry conference was extremely surprised.

Ye Shixian actually wore a black eye mask.

He Zongwei exclaimed: "Is Ye Shixian going to write poetry with her eyes closed? Oh my God, we are going to witness another side of Ye Shixian today!"

The atmosphere on the scene was immediately aroused.

Ye Qi took his time and searched for poems about Jiangnan on Baidu in the analyzer.

You know, this analyzer is in the temple, and it records a large amount of data from ancient times to the present.

Ye Qi coughed twice.

"The drizzle moistens the south of the Yangtze River, and the peach blossoms and willows are green. The boats paddle on the clear water, and the spring scenery fills the world."

As soon as this poem came out, there was constant applause from the audience.

"What a poem!"

"What a beautiful spring scene in the world!"

“What a vivid picture!”

Fan Xian at the side gave a thumbs up: "Which dynasty, who wrote it?"

"I don't know either. I just searched it randomly." Ye Qi said.

Fan Xian was a little confused. Search? He didn't understand what it meant. He thought Ye Qi searched from his mind.

Actually, it was Ye Qi who used Baidu search to make up the number.

He Zongwei clapped his hands: "As expected of Ye Shixian, next, let's talk about war and let's talk freely!"

Prior to this, the State of Qing had just lost Changting Pass, and the talented people of Qing were filled with indignation.

The scene fell into silence again.

Start thinking about this topic seriously.

"I come!"

A talented scholar stood up and said in a casual manner: "The wine is in the luminous cup, and the pipa music is urging me to drink. Don't laugh at me sleeping drunk on the battlefield. How many people have ever returned from the battles in history?"

"That's Ye Shixian's collection of poems. Do you think we don't read books? Get out of here!"

"Get down, don't embarrass yourself!"

The talented man was scolded and ran away.

Yes, there are many poems about war in the collection of poems published by Ye Qi, and each one of them is a classic handed down from generation to generation.

But the poems that are included in these collections certainly cannot be taken out again.

Ye Qi was also in a dilemma. This was not a poetry conference, but an execution conference to execute plagiarists from another world.

At this time, a man with lofty ideals from the south of the Yangtze River stood up and said, "The flames of war have begun, the smoke of war is thick, and the cavalry are galloping across the battlefield. The drums are beating, the flags are unfurling, and the robes are stained red with blood. Under the broken walls and ruins, life and death are in vain. Who would have thought that the tears of heroes would be shed in vain on the battlefield. Amid the flashing of swords and shadows, the sad songs are heartbreaking. When will the smoke of war dissipate, and we return to the fields to grow mulberry and hemp?"

"it is good!"

"What a poem!"

The talented men of Jiangnan applauded their own people.

After a period of silence, another talented person stood up.

"The neighs of the cavalry shook the sky, and the smoke of war rose where the swords were brandished. The flags fluttered in the wind, and the sound of drums and horns shook the nine rivers. Soldiers fought bloody battles on the yellow sand, and heroes shed tears by the cold moon. I wish the barbarians would stop fighting and return to enjoy the peaceful years together."

"Great talent!"

"I wish the barbarians would calm down the world and come back to enjoy the peaceful years. That's a great saying!"

"optimal!"

Ye Qi and Fan Xian's eyes were filled with helplessness. If they couldn't compose Tang poetry or Song lyrics, what other poems could compete with them?

Everyone turned their expectant eyes to Ye Qi again.

Ye Qi took a deep breath, and poems not from the Tang and Song dynasties began to quickly appear in his mind.

This time we have to do something more powerful.

Ye Qi stood in the center of the venue, looked around at everyone, and then looked to the north.

"The First Song"

"The west wind blows hard, geese cry in the sky, the moon shines in the morning. The moon shines in the morning, the horses' hooves make a sound, the trumpets sound muffled. The long road ahead is as hard as iron, but now we start over. When we start over, the mountains are like the sea, and the setting sun is like blood."

"Second Song"

"The wind and rain on Mount Zhongshan are gray and yellow, and a million strong troops are crossing the Yangtze River. The tigers and dragons are more powerful than before, and the world is turned upside down. It is better to pursue the enemy with the remaining courage, rather than to seek fame by imitating the tyrant. If the sky had feelings, it would also grow old, and the right path in the world is vicissitudes."

"Third song"

"How do you feel about being beheaded today? Starting a business is difficult and requires many battles. I will go to Quan Tai to recruit my old subordinates, and with a hundred thousand flags I will kill the devil. The war in the south has been going on for ten years, and this head must be hung at the gate of the country. Those who die later must work hard, and the victory news will be used as paper money. Investing in the revolution is home, and the bloody storm should have an end. Today is the day to sacrifice for justice, and plant the flowers of freedom all over the world."

Although he couldn't remember the poems of other dynasties, Ye Qi could still remember the poems of modern great men.

These poems are not inferior to Tang and Song poems. When these three poems were released, there was a lot of discussion at the scene.

"From the beginning, the mountains are like the sea, and the setting sun is like blood. It is so well written!"

"If the sky had feelings, it would also grow old. The righteous path of the world is full of vicissitudes. Oh my God, how did they come up with this!"

"I will go to Quantai to recruit my old subordinates, and with a hundred thousand banners I will kill Yama. This sentence makes my blood boil!"

Everyone can feel the heroic spirit in the lyrics.

Haitang Duoduo, who was standing by, picked up a fan to cool Ye Qi down and gave him a thumbs up.

Fan Xian nodded: "The great man's poems still sound so heroic when read!"

He Zongwei was in a very complicated mood. His mission this time was to destroy Ye Qi's place, but he had not succeeded yet.

He Zongwei clapped his hands: "Let's change the topic. Hey~~~ This brother is grinding ink, why don't we write a poem based on this ink!"

With ink as the subject, the difficulty increases suddenly.

He Zongwei smiled and said, "Now let's see how you, Ye Qi, write poetry."

The scene quickly quieted down.

The talented scholars were all thinking hard.

This time it took a little longer, and after waiting for a while, a talented person finally came up with an idea.

The talented man smiled slightly and walked around the center of the venue so that more people could get to know him.

Then he stood in the center of the venue.

"The ink lightly touches the pen, and the brush splashes with the meaning. Thousands of years of events flow on the paper, and every bit of deep love is sent to the distant place."

Everyone applauded.

It can’t be said to be very good, but it’s definitely not bad either, it’s just a little bit off.

After a while, another talented man stood up.

"The inkstone pool is slightly moistened by the cold dew, and the light grinding of ancient ink produces fragrance. The tip of the pen dances lightly, and the meaning flies. The sound of reading is like a drizzle, moistening the heart.

The clouds and mist on the paper rise with the scenery, and the brush strokes form lines on the paper. The mountains and rivers are like paintings hidden in the ink. The love is as deep as the sea, and the ink rhyme is as long as the sky. "

"good words!"

"Great!"

Compared with the previous poem, this one is more elegant.

After this poem appeared, the scene fell into silence again.

The level has risen, and anyone who wants to write a song must write better than them, otherwise they will make a fool of themselves.

Everyone turned their eyes to Ye Qi again.

At this time, Ye Qi was still searching on Baidu.

Finally found it.

Ye Qi walked to the ink alone and ground it gently.

Everyone looked at Ye Qi expectantly.

Ye Qi said slowly: "Let me borrow two ounces of ink from the world, one stroke for lovesickness and one stroke for error. Let me borrow three cups of wine from the world, to drink away the beauty of the four seasons."

Everyone was immersed in the poetry, savoring it carefully.

But Ye Qi hadn't finished yet. He had found two more articles and would read them carefully to give them a little shock.

"Let me borrow two ounces of ink from the world to paint all the old mountains and rivers in the world. Let me also take a pot of wine from Yaochi and dare to change the color of the mountains and rivers."

"I would like to borrow two ounces of ink from the world to dye the mountains, the water, and the falling flowers. I would like to return three ounces of tea to the world, to dream of life, death, and prosperity."

"As expected of Ye Shixian!"

“Each one is exquisite!”

"The poems written by Ye Shixian are still the best!"

Only then did everyone realize that Ye Shixian is still the number one figure in today's literary world.

Haitang Duoduo looked at Ye Qi with eyes full of admiration, her husband was so outstanding.

Ye Qi wiped the sweat from his forehead. Fortunately, he found it.

The previously published poetry collection included many poems from the Tang and Song dynasties, resulting in a shortage of ink now.

The only way to fight against this group of literati is to search for poems by netizens.

At this moment, Ye Qi was only thinking about finishing this poetry competition as quickly as possible, as plagiarism was too difficult.

(End of this chapter)