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"When I was studying at Binda University, I slapped Bai Haochen in the face once, but I didn't expect it to come in handy now."
"It's too wasteful to steal poems with the Great Thief of Heaven, and I haven't fully comprehended it, so I'll just use Stealing Poetry Talismans for fun."
Luo Yun smiled secretly, his thoughts moved slightly, "Old Master Taishang, hurry like a law! Steal Bai Juyi's "Question Liu Nineteen" for me!"
"Ding!"
"Bai Juyi's "Ask Liu Nineteen" has been stolen!"
The Immortal Network prompt sounded.
Luo Yun cleared his throat reassuringly, and recited leisurely:
"Green Ant New Brewed Wine, Red Clay Small Stove!"
this?
Really chant poetry?
Everyone was taken aback, is this the rhythm of fighting poetry?
The old man sitting in front of Luo Yun had already taken off his glasses and was about to go to bed.
Hearing the poem written by Luo Yun, his body shook, and he quickly put his glasses back on, "Good poem, good mood! What's next?"
Luo Yun pretended to think, cast his eyes out of the window, and said:
"Green Ant New Brewed Wine, Red Clay Small Stove."
"It's going to snow in the evening, can you have a drink?"
In the first class cabin, there was silence.
Everyone was brought into the artistic conception of this poem.
The same is about snow, Xu Wenliang's poems just make them feel good, okay, okay, that's all.
But Luo Yun's poems really brought them into the artistic conception of the poems!
One cold winter month, in a certain house.
It's getting late and it's going to snow.
How wonderful is it to invite two or three friends, warm a pot of wine, and write poems to Xue to warm up the fire?
This kind of artistic conception made Xu Wenliang, a top student in the Chinese Department of Beijing University, stupefied for a while, "Good poems, good poemsevery sentence is very good"
"How is it, top student?"
Luo Yun chuckled, bringing everyone out of the artistic conception of "Ask Liu Nineteen", "Can the poems written by me, a passer-by, catch your eye?"
"who are you!"
Xu Wenliang is not a fool, he stared at Luo Yun intently, "To be able to compose such a poem, you are by no means an unknown person in the literary circle!"
"I said, I'm just a passerby."
"I like ancient prose, good poetry, that's all."
Luo Yun pretended to be coercive and said: "If you are not convinced, you can come again."
Anyway, I still have another chance to steal poetry talismans he added from the bottom of his heart.
"good!"
"Come on, I'm afraid you won't succeed!"
Xu Wenliang did not admit defeat, and raised his voice an octave:
"Drinking a lonely tung tree alone is like a painting, and the pool is left alone for a long time."
"The vines are fluttering and there are still clouds, cheers without Lu wine, and the geese are just flying in sorrow."
"The tung leaf grass grows and the stone wall is broken, the algae pond is messy and empty, and the singing grows and flies into the water cloud village."
"On a windy and snowy night on the way home, a hundred flowers bloom in Fengwu."
Say it.
He took a deep breath, "This is a poem by Linjiang Immortal, and it is still about snow!"
"Write about snow, right?"
"Okay, I also like to write about snow!"
"I'll come out with this one next, and you'll never want to write about Xue again, because when you pick up your pen, your mind will be full of my shadows!"
While talking and laughing, Luo Yun uttered an extremely domineering sentence.
"Hey!"
Xu Wenliang raised his eyebrows, "It sounds like you wrote "Snow" very well?"
"It's not powerful, it's invincible."
"Listen carefully."
Luo Yun cleared his throat, and then thought silently, "Old Lord, be in a hurry like a law! Steal Li Bai's "Qing Ping Le ¡¤ Painting Hall Morning Rise" for me!"
"Ding!"
Luo Yun started his performance.
"Qing Ping Le, get up early in the painting hall!"
oh?
Qingpingle? Also write words?
The white-haired old man pricked up his ears, not wanting to miss a word from Luo Yun's mouth.
"Wake up in the painting hall in the morning, and come to report the snowfall."
"Look at Jiarui with a high rolling shutter, and the bright colors are far away from the courtyard."
"The light draws the smoke from the stove, and the jade pendant grows from the cold plain grass."
Luo Yun finished reading the first three sentences.
The old man's brows stretched slightly, "The scenes in these three sentences are really well written and lifelike. But if you insist on being invincible, I'm afraid it's overrated"
"There seems to be nothing particularly amazing."
The four college students looked at each other.
Xu Wenliang's tense heartstrings suddenly relaxed, and he sneered loudly:
"Haha! My friend, you are acting too aggressively!"
"In my opinion, these few sentences of yours are not as good as your last little poem!"
Luo Yun glanced at him displeasedly, "What's the rush? It's not over yet!"
Luo Yun was very upset when the atmosphere was interrupted:
"The light draws the smoke from the stove, and the jade pendant grows from the cold plain grass."
"It should be the celestial beings who got drunk and smashed the white clouds!"
Well!
When the last sentence came out, everyone was shocked.
Should it be the celestial beings who got drunk and smashed the white clouds?
What does this describe?
Write snow as clouds crushed by drunken fairies? How did you come up with it?
"good!!"
The white-haired old man yelled almost in a roar, and then took the lead in applauding, "Wonderful! Wonderful! What a master among the people!"
"Wow, well written."
"I'm getting goosebumps, it's like Li Bai."
"What kind of fairy description is this"
"How can I write such good poems with such a long brain!"
"Your mother, absolutely!"
The passengers applauded and said yes.
Xu Wenliang fell down on the seat with a face full of defeat, and kept muttering Luo Yun's words, "It should be the gods who are madly drunk and crush the white cloudsIt should be the gods who are madly drunk and rub the white clouds Brokenwhy, why can't I write such a poem"
"Sir, your poems are really well written."
At this time, with a sweet voice, a pair of long legs wrapped in thin black socks came into Luo Yun's sight.
Everyone knows that Luo Yun has a bit of leg control.
Seeing such beautiful legs, Luo Yun raised his eyebrows, and glanced quickly twice, "It's not very good to write casually."
"Qing Ping Le Painting Hall Morning Rise" is indeed not top-notch among the poems inscribed with snow, and there are Cen Shen's "Bai Xue Song Sending the Martial Judge Returning to Beijing" and Liu Zongyuan's "Jiang Xue" on it.
The reason why Luo Yun said invincible is to steal these two songs in the future.
"Sir, you are too modest, do you want juice?"
The stewardess smiled like a bird singing.
"sure."
Luo Yun smiled, and moved his gaze upwards along those breathtakingly beautiful legs.
Soon, his eyes fixed on a familiar and beautiful face.
It turned out to be Lin Xiyan!
Nima!
When did this woman pretend to be a stewardess?
Luo Yun's smiling face just now pulled down immediately, "Damn, why are you here!"
"Can't I be here?"
Lin Xiyan smiled coquettishly and poured him a glass of orange juice, "Why didn't you find out at school before that you can write poetry?"
"Copy it."
Luo Yun told the truth.
"Copied? Who copied it? Why haven't I heard of it?"
Lin Xiyan raised her eyebrows slightly.
Luo Yun glanced at her angrily, "Didn't I tell you to stay in the villa first, and we will meet in Rongcheng later, and I will come to Yangcheng to do something."
"What are you doing, I think you are here for tourism!"
"Hmph, that's how you want to get rid of me!"
Lin Xiyan was a little angry.
At this time, the voice of the purser came from the radio, Luo Yun removed the sound insulation, got up and got off the plane:
"Let's go, don't follow me." (Remember this website URL: www.hlnovel.com - Didn't finish reading? Add this book to your favoritesI'm a member and bookmarked this chapterCopy the address of this book and recommend it to your friends for pointsChapter error? Click here to report
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