socalfunplaces Page 333
Page 333
Fan Xian, that kid, has been wandering around the liberal arts exam room for quite some time now.
You were just waiting for this sentence, weren't you?
Waiting for this opportunity to show off his abilities in front of others.
No wonder they insisted on having such a long, awkward chat with Cheng Jialin and Yang Wanli earlier.
Unfortunately, both of them were honest people and didn't think of all that.
They were so engrossed in chatting that they didn't even notice his identity as an inner court disciple.
If it weren't for He Zongwei's existence...
That shameless brat is probably going to die of frustration.
From this perspective, He Zongwei is extremely insightful.
It does seem that it is indeed easier to get along in officialdom.
Inside the examination room, Fan Xian magnanimously announced, "Bring me the pen and the paper."
All eyes in the room turned to him.
He Zongwei plastered a fawning smile on his face and personally ground the ink.
He then respectfully handed over paper and pen, saying...
"Brother, please."
Although He Zongwei was very confident in his poetic talent.
But that doesn't stop him from thinking that it's good to have a big tree to lean on.
With inner court disciples readily available, it's an opportunity not to miss the chance to make their acquaintances.
If only we could get a recommendation from this senior brother, Fan.
He undoubtedly has a better chance of becoming Mr. Su's inner disciple.
Fan Xian glanced at He Zongwei, then swept his gaze across the men present.
He calmly took the pen and proudly began to write on the paper.
His face still looked innocent and naive, not at all like someone full of bad intentions.
But in my heart I was thinking about writing poetry in this world.
Who else could be my rival?
After all, he was a monster possessed by the three divine husbands of Li Bai, Du Fu, and Su Shi, blessed with five thousand years of poetic power.
In fact, although he had studied diligently with his teacher for many years, he had a considerable number of poems in his mind.
But for the brilliant idea of becoming a great plagiarist.
But it never died in his heart.
And it firmly occupies a large part of the market.
After all, in his opinion.
Since those poems by predecessors were things that only he knew.
If we don't make use of it, wouldn't that be a waste of resources?
This is unacceptable.
Thus, a poem was composed in no time.
"All right."
Yang Wanli and Cheng Jialin had their brows furrowed.
Watching that six-year-old child, with great confidence, write a stroke of his pen...
The characters are ugly, resembling a dog's crawl.
He was still thinking to himself, how could anyone write such amazing and awe-inspiring characters?
Moreover, this child is actually Mr. Su's inner disciple.
Mr. Su, how much of a headache it must be for him to be taught.
After reading the poem, Yang Wanli and Cheng Jialin exchanged a glance.
My heart is filled with emotion; he truly is worthy of being Mr. Su's student.
Such poetic talent, such innate genius, is astonishing!
Like the two of them, there were other people watching from the innermost part of the area.
Upon seeing Fan Xian's poem, everyone was amazed.
He Zongwei feared that the others in the room and on the periphery could not hear him.
So he gently picked up the poem and recited it.
"Goose, goose, goose, with its neck bent, it sings to the sky."
"White feathers float on green water, red webbed feet stir clear waves."
This poem, once published, resonated deeply.
The 37 students in the entire examination room, including the examiners, were all shocked.
Cheers rose and fell in waves.
"What a poem, what a poem!"
"To be able to compose such a poem at the age of six is truly the work of a child prodigy!"
"With this poem, Senior Brother Fan deserves the title of Little Poet Immortal!"
And those who questioned his status as an inner court disciple.
Naturally, they all shut their mouths, their hearts filled with nothing but admiration.
It is both an admiration for his extraordinary talent as a young poet.
It also expresses admiration for the teacher who has amazing insight and can discover and educate so many child prodigies.
“Excellent, excellent! The literary scene in Nanqing has been weak for a long time.”
"Now, following the Little Goddess, another Little Poet Immortal has emerged."
"With Mr. Su as our teacher, the Qing Kingdom will have a continuous stream of talented people for thousands of generations!"
"..."
Hearing the praise from the students in the hall.
Fan Xian's thick eyebrows relaxed, and the corners of his mouth turned up, clearly in a great mood, his joy evident on his face!
The old saying is being repeated in Fan Xian's mind.
If there is a collector, they may possess a famous painting.
However, he kept this painting in his private collection for his entire life and never showed it to anyone.
If this person isn't a pervert, then they're a thief who stole the painting.
Fan Xian knew that he was definitely not a pervert.
He admitted that he was indeed a thief who stole poems.
But the amazing thing is that nobody in the world knows about this!
Therefore, he thoroughly enjoyed the good reputation he was enjoying at that moment!
And the boundless admiration that everyone held for him, this little poet!
Little did he know, his husband was also watching all of this.
Su Yu, at this moment, was giving a meaningful, ambiguous smile.
I was looking at a certain shameless and arrogant student.
After all, Su Yu just happens to be one of those people in this world.
Those who know that the poem was actually written by a poet from the Tang Dynasty.
Fan Xian suddenly turned his head and glanced back.
He then looked around in all directions.
No one was found.
But why did he always feel like he was being looked down upon?
But then again.
Su Yu was somewhat speechless at the six-year-old child's obsession with copying poems.
But he couldn't help but admire him in his heart; this kid had really made progress.
No longer like when I was four years old, when I immediately wrote an untitled poem.
Instead, he was quite clever and chose a poem that suited his age.
It seems that Fan Xian had indeed been planning to become a plagiarist for a long time.
You have to understand, she's so young.
If (bfaa) casually hums a line like, "I want to say something but hesitate, yet I say, 'What a fine autumn day!'"
Then she wouldn't be a child prodigy, but rather the Child Granny of Tianshan.
He looks like a cute boy, but his heart is riddled with 365 cracks.
Each crack bears the inscription of the four seasons: spring, summer, autumn, and winter, a testament to time's vicissitudes.
But just like now, in the examination room, there is a six-year-old child.
What was written was Luo Binwang's poem "Ode to the Goose".
That certainly fits the image of a child prodigy.
Here Fan Xian, the child prodigy, is being surrounded by a group of students seeking his guidance.