Chapter 779 Confidence Is a Good Thing

Baoxing didn't speak, but raised his chin.

Yuzhu looked along, but saw that the empress was writing vigorously.

Swipe.

In the blink of an eye, she had written two poems, which were not waiting to be paused or revised. When she was done, she threw them to Baoxing and said, "Give it to General Xu."

Yuzhu's jaw is about to drop.

This... is too fast.

Can I still read this poem?

Yu Zhu didn't dare to hit her master, and after thinking for a long time, she said cautiously: "Your Majesty, it's hard for the emperor to ask you for poems, should we carefully consider it? It is said that the palace will hold a poetry banquet this year, can you Don't be robbed of the limelight by Concubine Jing."

"Don't worry, they are all peerless poems." Yun Dai stood up nonchalantly, and stretched her waist, "I'll go after breakfast. After eating, let's choose materials and make new clothes for the New Year."

Yu Zhu followed up: "Your Majesty's talent is naturally the best, but when it comes to writing poems, you have to be careful with every word. Or should the servants ask for the poems back? You should think about it carefully."

"Yuzhu, let me tell you this. If my poems don't win the prize, there is only one possibility. The judges are all ignorant fools. They don't deserve to read these good poems that have been passed down through the ages."

Yu Zhu was completely overwhelmed by her master's big words.

In private, she said to Baoxing: "Even if we can't win, our mother's self-confidence is commendable."

Xu Hu took Yun Dai's poem back to the palace and sent it to the emperor.

Zhao Yuanjing couldn't wait to pick it up and look at it.

Ten days ago, after he discovered Yun Dai's talent in poetry for the first time, he has been thinking about it all the time, and wanted her to write some more poems. But because of face, Yan'er was not there, so he couldn't go to Ganquan Temple all the time.

Fortunately, there are still more than ten days to celebrate the new year. The empress dowager and a few old concubines are idle and bored, and they said that they will hold a snow poem appreciation banquet. If someone writes a good poem, they will be rewarded heavily.

The officials of the imperial court are also on vacation, and they are idle when they are idle, and many people come to join in the fun.

Zhao Yuanjing was not interested at first, but when he heard that Jin Yao and Guo Ning would also participate, he thought of Yun Dai's poem.

This is an excellent opportunity to write poetry in a fair and honest manner.

No, it's coming.

Zhao Yuanjing first scanned the two poems from beginning to end, and was immediately attracted.

One is titled Plum Blossom.

There are several plum branches in the corner, and Ling Han blooms alone. I know it's not snow, because there is a dark fragrance.

The other one is called Mo Mei.

The head tree of the inkstone pool in my house is blooming with light ink marks. Don't be praised for your good looks, just leave the clean air full of heaven and earth.

One is lonely and the other is majestic.

The talent is proud, and it is vividly displayed between the lines.

Zhao Yuanjing couldn't help but praise a wonderful word.

He couldn't put it down after reading it for a long time, and ordered someone to copy the poem, frame it, and save it for the poetry meeting before taking it out.

At this time, Jin Yao also came with a poem in her hand, and said with a smile: "I'm not in good spirits now, and after thinking hard for several days, I finally managed to compose two poems. Not good, I will do it again."

Zhao Yuanjing raised his eyebrows and said, "Submit it."

When Jin Yao was in the boudoir, she was a well-known talented woman in the capital.

He wanted to see how Jin Yao's poems compared with Yun Dai's.

After unfolding it, it is actually a poem about snow.

Clouds swirl outside the building, lonely snow on the wall.

The light Qiong runs the fine willows, and the embroidered velvet dances the flowing warblers.

The melting snow oozes the fragrance of plum blossoms, and the flowing water smells the music of the piano.

The wind is so pity and pure and white, it still leaves the king's heart.

It's a nice poem too.

But when I read it, I always feel dull and tasteless.