Rise From the Humble

Huang Jin, who came to pass the note, was not surprised at all by Yuan Wei's quick thinking. Yuan Wei had always been quick in thinking. In the past, the emperor would sometimes send out pieces of Yuzheng Qingci in the middle of the night, and Yuan Wei would always write and complete it. And he is very popular with the Holy Father.

At this time, seeing Yuan Wei finish it with a wave of his hand, Huang Jin showed a satisfied look on his face, and then walked over to watch Yuan Wei's masterpiece.

The characters are like dragons and snakes, vigorous and powerful, written in one go, and the calligraphy is very exquisite. Both his literary talent and his poetry are top-notch, and they are excellent. However, they are good. In terms of calligraphy, they can be called great achievements. In terms of literary talent, they can be admired, but in terms of appetite, they don't have much excitement. It's a pity.

"Master Yuan is interested." Huang Jin nodded to Yuan Wei without revealing his voice.

After receiving Huang Jin's praise, Yuan Wei's face became even more proud, and his chin was raised more than forty degrees.

After Yuan Wei finished writing, others began to write gradually. The next one to finish was Li Chunfang. Like Yuan Wei, Li Chunfang also often wrote Qingci for Emperor Jiajing. In the past few days at the Hanlin Academy, his poetry writing skills had improved even more:

Fresh bamboo shoots and anchovies from the outskirts of Beijing are boiled in the spring breeze in early March.

Only water shield and perch are edible, and even gods return to eat fish.

Compared with Yuan Wei's poem, Huang Jin's expression was slightly richer when he read Li Chunfang's poem, but he still felt a little regretful in his heart. Although this poem has a bit of a rice flavor and makes people a little more interested in fish, it is also a little bit. That's all, it still doesn't make people appetizing, which is a pity.

"Master Li is interested." Huang Jin nodded, unable to see his emotions.

After Li Chunfang finished writing the poem, others also completed a poem one after another, and Zhang Juzheng and Zhang Siwei also each wrote a poem.

Zhang Juzheng’s poems are definitely among the best:

The dragon king knows the beauty of fish, and the mountain god knows the fragrance of bamboo shoots.

The sweet brew is served in a white jade cup, with a particularly long-lasting flavor.

Zhang Siwei did not disappoint his literary talent, and followed Zhang Juzheng in writing an excellent work.

All the Hanlin scholars present here have basically finished writing a masterpiece. The only one who has not yet finished writing is Zhu Pingan. Zhu Ping'an was the number one scholar, but he had not yet written, so everyone couldn't help but turn their attention to him.

Could it be that the champion was confused when he received the proposition from the Holy Emperor for the first time?

Huang Jin also set his sights on Zhu Pingan at this moment. If he had high hopes for anyone this time, it was Zhu Pingan. It was Zhu Pingan's poem on the wine table last night that made the emperor eat two more A big bowl of rice.

In fact, when he saw the little note from Emperor Jiajing, Zhu Ping'an's first reaction was the food poems written by foodies that he had seen in modern times. The joke he made last night was the food poems he had seen on the Internet. One of the poems. It is said that in modern times, when I saw these poems, I had a big appetite. Even Lao Ganma would save money when eating instant noodles. It is more satisfying than when I first looked at China on the tip of my tongue.

But the only problem is, I don’t know if it’s acceptable in this day and age, and it’s for the most powerful person in the world.

"Why hasn't the No. 1 Scholar written yet?" Huang Jin asked.

"Dare I ask Huang Gong, what are the restrictions on poetry?" Zhu Pingan did not answer, but asked Huang Jin a question.

"Nothing else, just appetizing." Huang Jin shook his head, and then added meaningfully: "No need to worry too much, just write whatever you want."

There is something in this, but I like it. Zhu Pingan nodded slightly and had an idea. If he writes according to the conventional rules, his literary talent is not as good as Yuan Wei, Li Chunfang, and Zhang Juzheng. And to be honest, their poems are really... There is not much appetite.

Think about it, Emperor Jiajing had a poor appetite and couldn't eat. The purpose was to whet his appetite. As for style and style, I asked anyway, and Huang Jin said there was no such thing. In addition, even if style is not good, it will only make a few laughs at most. It seems not bad to make Emperor Jiajing laugh twice.

face?

Ahem, that thing is worth a lot of money, and it’s quite tiring to wear.

After Zhu Ping'an thought clearly, he raised the corners of his lips, picked up the brush with a sense of humor, and dipped the ink into the inkstone.

For a moment, everyone focused their attention on Zhu Ping'an's thick ink-dropping pen tip.

The pen is handsome and the writing is steady, but what do you mean when you stop on the paper and don't move? ! After everyone watched Zhu Pingan pick up the pen, dip it in ink, and put it down, they were waiting to see the poem written by Zhu Pingan. However, at this critical moment, they saw that Zhu Pingan put the pen on the paper and there was no more words, and he did not move. It's like the engine is out.

What, are you nervous and confused?

The embarrassment of such an important task was only superficial. Yuan Wei looked at Zhu Ping'an with a more disdainful look.

"Ahem, I'm sorry to bother Mr. Huang, but I'd like to ask you what the royal kitchen wants to feed His Majesty today. I'm afraid it will mess up His Majesty's dietary arrangements."

Zhu Pingan's voice sounded about half a second after he started writing.

Hearing this, Zhang Juzheng couldn't help but look at Zhu Pingan twice. He was so thoughtful. Why didn't he think of this point that Zhu Pingan was considering!

Everyone else seemed to feel the same way.

"Your Majesty has been fasting and eating vegetarian food for a long time a few days ago. The imperial kitchen is thinking of making more meat to replenish the blood of the Holy One."

Huang Jin looked at Zhu Pingan with admiration. He was very satisfied with Zhu Pingan's attentiveness and his ability to put himself in the shoes of the emperor, instead of simply having the mentality of completing the task. Such a minister is the one your Majesty admires.

Oh, eat more meat.

Zhu Ping'an nodded, and then the brush in his hand began to dance, writing in one go without adding any details:

The absence of bamboo makes people vulgar, and the absence of meat makes people thin.

Nice and not too thin, braised pork with bamboo shoots.

At first, everyone was shocked by Zhu Pingan's superb calligraphy. Zhu Pingan's calligraphy can be said to be the best in the Hanlin Academy. But when Zhu Pingan finished writing the poem, everyone was stunned. Uh, is this a limerick? But it is a bit more elegant than limericks. Zhu Ping'an's limerick is adapted from Su Shi's poem: It is better to eat without meat than to live without bamboo. No meat makes you thin, and no bamboo makes you vulgar. I took two lines from Su Shi's poem, but perfected them into a poem.

Regardless of the literary talent, reading this poem does make people have a strong urge to try this good and not thin braised pork with bamboo shoots. It is very strong.

However, in terms of literary excellence, Zhu Ping'an's poem cannot compare with Yuan Wei and Li Chunfang. Is this also called poetry? ! Yuan Wei and several others looked at Zhu Pingan with disdain after thinking about it for so long and writing such a poem.

"Actually, I love eating. Sometimes when I'm reading ancient poems, I can't help but think about food, and then I try to make some interesting sentences. It's almost like this." Zhu Ping'an said with a sheepish smile. Laughed, and then wrote for everyone to see:

An old friend left the Yellow Crane Tower in the west and traveled thousands of miles to buy fish heads!

Jun asked about the return date, braised eggplant and chicken in oil.

Once upon a time, it was difficult to find water in the sea, so fish-flavored shredded pork with chicken legs.

It's hard to say goodbye when we meet. Don't put salt in the steamed crabs.

After Zhu Ping'an finished writing these sentences, there was an uproar around him, accompanied by whispers such as nonsense and what the hell. If Zhu Ping'an's poem could still be called a poem at the beginning, what he wrote later cannot be described as a poem at all. To call it a limerick would be an exaggeration.

Jun asked if the return date is yet to be announced. Braised eggplant and oil-braised chicken. What are these?