Cultural Scholar: Famous in the World from the Universal History

Qu Ming glanced at Qin Wen and found that he had no reaction to that modern poem at all.

He just sat quietly in the corner drinking tea, and said a few words to Qu Bencheng from time to time.

It doesn't seem to match the lively poetry club at all.

"Does he think the poetry written by those people is good, or is he disdainful?"

Qu Ming guessed Qin Wen's thoughts.

Like his father Qu Bencheng, his biggest expectation for this poetry meeting is Qin Wen.

Although countless people say that Qin Wen is a poet comparable to the poet immortal, and everyone agrees with it, few people have the opportunity to see Qin Wen create poetry with their own eyes.

Qu Ming thinks that if he can see Qin Wen compose poems in this poetry meeting, it will be worth the trip.

It's a pity that Qin Wen doesn't seem to have any interest in writing poetry.

Just as Qu Ming was thinking, there was also a person present who had been paying attention to Qin Wen.

His name is Qi Fu, and he is one of the leaders in the domestic poetry circle, on par with Qu Bencheng's fame, but he is younger than Qu Bencheng, in his early fifties.

So he is called the first poet of the Mesozoic Era.

Ahem, this statement is indeed a bit watery, after all, Professor Wang Ci didn't agree with it.

Wang Ci is not yet sixty years old, and he can be regarded as a poet of the Mesozoic Generation.

Although his fame is not as good as Qu Bencheng and Qi Fu, it is because both of them are engaged in poetry theory research, so they are more famous.

And Wang Ci's main study is simply writing poetry, so naturally there is no such hard-core academic fame.

In terms of the level of poetry, it is impossible to say who is better than whom.

"Ahem......"

Qi Fu slowly paced near Qin Wen and coughed, trying to get his attention.

Unexpectedly, Qin Wen still concentrated on chatting with Qu Bencheng, and Qu Bencheng didn't turn his head to look at him.

Qi Fu subconsciously frowned.

He wasn't trying to provoke, he just wanted to interrupt them before joining them in.

That's right, join their conversation and chat together.

Because in Qi Fu's opinion, among all the people present, only Qu Bencheng and Qin Wen were qualified to discuss poetry with him, and no one else was taken seriously by him.

But Qin Wen and Qu Bencheng didn't seem to have this kind of thought, and kept chatting there.

Qi Fu thought for a while, clapped his hands, and said in surprise: "I suddenly have inspiration!"

When the people around him heard him say this, they immediately surrounded him.

Originally, Qi Fu was the focus of the venue, not to mention that he was also planning to compose poetry.

Seeing that Qin Wen and the two finally turned their eyes, Qi Fu secretly said: "Ascending to the heights, I feel something, so there is a clumsy work, please correct it!"

The strong fragrance ink is heavy, and the light and elegant plain is lightly smeared

Thousands of miles of rivers and rivers are restored, and the nine-foot mountains and rivers are even farther away......"

To be honest, there is nothing eye-catching about this poem, it is not amazing enough, and it even has some sense of forced rhyme.

But it is very rare that the poems made on the spot can have such a level.

So everyone gave face-saving praise and stroked their hands.

"Teacher Qi's poetry is still so standard. "

"The edge is heavy, the smear is light, not bad. "

The first two sentences are wonderful. "

“......"

Listening to the business touting around him, Qi Fu was in a good mood, while Wang Ci on the other side was in a very unhappy mood.

"This is your opponent?" Gu Ye said with a low chuckle.

Wang Ci also replied in a low voice: "The opponent doesn't count, I just don't like his arrogant appearance." (If you read a violent novel, go to Feilu Novel Network!)

Gu Ye's eyes rolled, revealing an expression of watching a good show.

Sure enough, Wang Ci walked to a table and wrote a poem on paper with a pen.

He had a little draft of this poem before, and it can be said that several lines of the poem were carefully considered by him.

Originally, he planned to polish it again in the future, but tonight, seeing Qi Fu's conceited face, Wang Ci still couldn't bear to write it out.

As for whether this counts as copying oneself and destroying the fairness of the poetry club?

You don't have to think like that, because everyone in the room must have had a draft before attending the event.

Like Qi Fu, the poems he made "temporarily" must have been prepared beforehand.

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It's just that everyone is praising each other, so no one is so stupid to pick this matter out.

After all, the ancients did the same.

Without that, who can write a good poem in a short time?

Seeing that Wang Ci also began to write poems, a group of people surrounded him again, Qi Fu frowned and stood still.

Soon, there were "professionals" there who read the poem.

"Qionglou is difficult to find Qiao Renle, and it is noisy like Luan Fengming

The mortal dust was once as empty as a dream, and the immortal road was half a dream

Today, the sky is cold, and only the toad knows that I am more obscure

Zhang Qin still plays a column song, who brushes the long song when the strings are broken......"

"Okay! A good Zhang Qin still plays a railing song, who will blow the long song when the strings are broken!"

Teacher Wang Ci's thoughts are deeper again. "

"The high-rise people in the winter night are cold, and the loneliness in the poem is indeed profound. "

“......"

Hearing everyone's praise of Wang Ci, Qi Fu's eyelids jumped.

This group of so-called poets is really who is praising whom.

However, even if Qi Fu doesn't look at the king's words very much, he can't admit that this poem is indeed okay.

So Qi Fu could only snort and slightly express his dissatisfaction.

"Lao Wang, you're still good, I think Lao Xi and Qi Fu's poems are far worse than yours. "

When Wang Ci came out of the crowd, Gu Ye said with a smile.

Wang Ci couldn't help but laugh when he heard this, and as for Xi Bugong next to him, he glared at Gu Ye.

Gu Ye looked like a dead pig who was not afraid of boiling water, and he was still happy.

In the following time, the participants basically wrote one or two poems, of which most were modern poems and few ancient poems.

This is also normal, many people don't even understand the rhyme of ancient style poems, so naturally they won't write things that they are not familiar with.

In the end, only Qu Bencheng's father and son and Qin Wen did not write poetry.

Qu Ming was skipped by everyone first, he only came with his father.

Then everyone's eyes looked at Qu Bencheng and Qin Wen from time to time, looking forward to what kind of masterpieces they could write... One....