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Chapter 52: Donor Zhao, you said you can¡¯t compose poetry?  (Additional update from the leader)

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    When he came under the light, he saw clearly that it was a shiny bald head.

    "This, could it be that someone was forced to donate money to the house?" Zhao Hao immediately lowered his face and asked Gao Wu to drive the monk out.

    "The little benefactor misunderstood. The young monk did not come here to ask for alms, but came here because of his reputation. He wanted to see the little benefactor." The monk was more handsome and elegant than the woman, and he also had a sultry spirit in his bones. Who else could he be if he wasn't Xuelang?  ?  He clasped his hands together and explained with a smile.

    "See me?" Zhao Hao looked at his father strangely.

    "Alas, it's all your fault for that poem" Zhao Shouzheng sighed with a guilty conscience.

    "It's my father's words." Zhao Hao quickly corrected him.

    "Oh, nephew, stop pretending. Your father sold you, otherwise this monk could come to your house?" Fan Datong chuckled, looked him up and down and said, "That song "Die Lian Hua" is really awesome.  Did you fill it out?"

    "Father, come here." Zhao Hao darkened his face. He copied the poem purely to make Zhao Shouzheng famous, and had no intention of improving his own reputation.

    His dream was just to be a government official who would enjoy wealth and power, bully men and dominate women, and he never wanted to be in the limelight.  In Zhao Hao's view, too much limelight will lead to wrongdoing and even unreasonable disasters; even if you are lucky and no disaster comes from the sky, being too famous will make people feel uncomfortable when they act or speak. There will be people watching wherever they go. In fact,  It goes against his life creed of making a fortune quietly and being a bully in a low profile.

    "I won't go in." When Zhao Shouzheng saw that his son's face was not good, he immediately rubbed oil on the soles of his feet, pulled Fan Datong and walked out.  "You poets communicate with each other, and we lay people will not mix in."

    After saying that, the two left Xuelang at home and fled to the tavern on the street to have fun.

    ??~~

    Seeing his father becoming more and more cunning, Zhao Hao was both relieved and annoyed. He actually missed the dull Mr. Zhao a few days ago.

    "Oh, if life is just like the first time we met" Zhao Hao sighed helplessly, and then suddenly realized that he had accidentally said another sentence, and it was a killer level.

    Fearing that he would make mistakes if he said too much, he ignored Xuelang and entered the main room with his hands behind his back.

    Xuelang, however, seemed to have been struck by lightning, murmuring and repeating what Zhao Hao just said casually.

    "If life is only like the first meeting, if life is only like the first meeting"

    Xuelang couldn't help but burst into tears again, standing there staring at the stars in the sky.

    The noisy wind blew his cassock gently dancing

    The Gao family father and son looked at the dull monk curiously.

    "What did the young master say just now that made him obsessed all of a sudden?" Old Man Gao touched his chin strangely and said: "Ginseng is as mentally retarded as a sword? I have never heard of such a sword."

    Gao Wu shook his head and didn't answer.

    In that room, Zhao Hao was so angry that he stamped his feet in the main room.

    "It's outrageous, it's really outrageous. What's the use of my reputation? It's only useful if I put it on you!"

    He wanted to turn over the table, but he really couldn't bear to part with the sumptuous dishes, so he changed his mind, picked up his chopsticks and ate, turning his grief and anger into appetite.

    It wasn't until Zhao Hao was so full that he couldn't eat anymore, Xue Lang woke up from the shock, walked into the main room and clasped his hands to him and said: "Thank you to the donor for creating 'If life is just like the first time we met', 'The most unforgettable thing in this world'   If you can hear these two words, the young monk will die without regrets."

    "What does it have to do with me whether you die or not?" Zhao Hao was in a bad mood and didn't even want to look at him: "I didn't fill in the words. Don't put your life on my head."

    "Then, sir, who made it?" Xue Lang asked hurriedly.

    "I forgot where I heard it from." Zhao Hao replied angrily: "It seems that one has the surname Wang and the other has the surnameit doesn't matter what his surname is."

    Xuelang shook his head in disbelief: "Although the young monk is an outsider, he has been obsessed with poetry since he was a child. He has read all the poetry in the world. But he has never seen the song "Butterfly Loves Flowers", and even the song just now is suspected to be "Mulan"  "Flower Ling", although there is only one sentence, the young monk absolutely believes that it was not done by predecessors."

    Zhao Hao rolled his eyes and said: "Monks should not lie. You must know that there is no limit to the sea of ??learning. How dare you say that you don't have it even if you haven't seen it?"

    "Be taught." Xue Lang clasped his palms together and said with a faint smile: "But our Huayan Sect is different from the Zen Sect. We specialize in teaching great principles, and we tell countless lies every day."

    After a pause, he said firmly: "In short, such a famous saying that will shine through the ages cannot be hidden."

    Zhao Hao saw that he couldn't argue with the monk, so he turned around and walked back into the house.

    "If you say I didn't do it, then I didn't do it."

    Xuelang chased after him, and persuaded him earnestly from behind: "Donor, just accept it. Our Ming poetry world has been in decline for two hundred years, and we are in need of a benefactor."Such a genius came to the rescue.  "

    "Neuropathy!"

    Zhao Hao gave him a middle finger and closed the door to the west room that had just been installed this afternoon.

    Xue Lang banged on the door outside and begged repeatedly: "Donor, you can't be so cruel and selfish! How can you abandon the Ming Dynasty's poetry world and ignore it? Let the poets of the country be ridiculed by all dynasties"

    Zhao Hao lay on the bed, covering his ears, and shouted loudly: "Gao Wu, are you deaf? Why don't you kick this guy out!"

    Gao Wu has been aside for a long time, but this monk was brought back by the master, and he did not dare to mess around for a while.

    Now after hearing the Young Master's order, Gao Wu reached out and pulled, and Xuelang turned around like a top.

    Gao Wu pointed at the door and held back a word for a long time.

    "roll!"

    "Even if you beat him to death, he won't leave!" Xuelang made up his mind, hugged one of the legs on the desk, and sat cross-legged with his eyes closed.

    "" Gao Wu clenched his fist as big as a vinegar bowl and was about to hit the bald head.

    But suddenly he felt someone pulling him, he stopped and turned around to look.

    Seeing that it was Fang Wen tugging on his sleeve, Gao Wu cast a questioning look.

    "This monk cannot be offended" Fang Wen reminded him in a low voice, pulled Gao Wu out of the hall, and told his father and son what he saw and heard during the day.

    "Oh, it seems that you really shouldn't be violent, otherwise you will cause trouble for the master" Old Man Gao heard that Xuelang had such great influence, he nodded with deep approval and said: "I don't think he has any ill intentions, just  Let him go, he won't spend the night at our house, right?"

    Gao Wu pursed his lips and did not enter the main room again.

    ??~~

    In the west room, Zhao Hao heard that there was no movement outside, thinking that the bald donkey had finally left.  Unexpectedly, when he got up and opened the door, he saw this guy sitting cross-legged on the ground, very determined to fight him.

    Zhao Hao couldn't help but couldn't help crying or laughing. Why did he always encounter such shameless people?  Could it be that birds of a feather really flock together?

    "As long as the benefactor refuses to acknowledge him, the young monk will not leave." Xuelang heard the sound of the door opening and opened his right eye a little.

    "Take care of yourself!" Zhao Hao slammed the door and went into the house to sleep.

    Who would have thought that the airflow when he closed the door blew up the pile of papers placed on the long desk.

    Those pieces of manuscript paper just happened to fall on Xue Lang¡¯s bald head. Xue Lang took them off casually and took a closer look. He was completely petrified on the spot.

    "Li and Du's poems have been passed down by thousands of mouths, but they are no longer new. There have been talented people from generation to generation, and they have been leading the way for hundreds of years!"

    "The sun is setting in the majestic sorrow of separation, and the whip is pointing eastward to the end of the world. Falling red is not a heartless thing, it turns into spring mud to protect the flowers!"

    "It's sad that Kyushu is angry because of wind and thunder, and thousands of horses are silent. I urge God to cheer up and send talents of any kind!"

    "I stood alone on the railing facing the morning breeze, and the stream was filled with spring water to the east of the small bridge. I realized that last night I dreamed of Red Mansions, and I was among thousands of peach blossom trees!"

    "There are two immortals and Buddhas who have not yet come to fruition. They only know how to sing unevenly alone in the night. The wind is full of sad songs, and the mud is stained with bad luck.

    ?????????????? Nine out of ten people are worth looking down upon, and none of them are useless scholars.  Don't worry about the poems and turn them into prophecies, the spring birds and autumn insects make their own noises!  "

    Amid the sound of the drums, Xuelang slapped the door of Zhao Hao¡¯s bedroom, crying with tears streaming down his face:

    "Donor Zhao No, Grandmaster Zhao, you still say you can't compose poetry? These five top-notch poems can't be done by others, right?!"

    ps. Thanks to the new leader ¡®Black Fish¡¯, extra updates will be sent to you, please vote for recommendations and chapter reviews~~~~(Remember this site¡¯s website address: www.hlnovel.com
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