While talking, the two of them came to the pagoda courtyard of Bao'en Temple and saw a square table at the entrance of the courtyard, with guests recordings and pens and inks used for titles.

Two monks were guarding the merit box and chatting in a low voice.

Zhao Shouzheng only felt his heart beating violently, but Fan Datong looked as usual and walked over.

The monk from Zhike looked up at him. Before he could speak, he saw Fan Datong pointing to the list of topics and said frankly: "We are going out for a respectful look."

The monk did not doubt that he was there, so he continued to lower his head and chat. Fan Datong snatched at Zhao Shouzheng proudly and took him into the tower courtyard.

There are 108 golden bells hanging in the pagoda of Bao'en Temple. The spring breeze blows, and the melodious ringtones spread inside and outside the Buddhist temple.

Under the tall foundation, there are hundreds of cushions and hundreds of short cases. Young talents from Jinling City gathered together, including many famous Jiangzuo scholars, and it is not rare for gentry and officials.

These people all came for the sake of the poet Xuelang's face.

Although Xue Lang had just emerged from the cottage at this time and had not yet reached the point where he was so popular that he was so popular that he knew he wanted to donate money. This is enough to show that his current influence, at least in Nanjing, should not be underestimated.

When Zhao Shouzheng and the others came in, the young monk wearing a gorgeous and beautiful robes and a handsome face was sitting cross-legged in his master's seat. He saw his face as jade as a crown, his eyes as bright as a star, his handsome god, gentle and elegant, his demeanor was elegant, and his style was peerless, and he was not like this turbid world figure.

A breeze blew by, and countless begonia petals blew. The poet monk Xuelang bathed in the rain of flowers and laughed loudly to the guests who were enthusiastic about poetry:

"You are hard to refuse your kindness, so the little monk had to reluctantly make it difficult and make a fool of himself again."

Everyone immediately cheered.

While the guests' eyes were all gathered on the shiny bald head, Shouzheng and the others were looking for an empty seat. However, there were many guests today, and there were no more seats left. They found two back-to-back seats in the corner of the tower courtyard.

It was noon, and the vegetarian rice in the temple had just been placed on a long short table, with a scent of fragrance and steaming hot.

Seeing Xuelang wanted to write poems, the guests didn't care about eating and drinking, and they stretched their necks to wash their ears and listened attentively, and Zhao Shouzheng was no exception.

Then he heard Master Xuelang chanting loudly:

"After the rain, the breeze does not pass through the pond, and the willow branches still brush the silk in the mirror.

I only share the birds and fish with them, and only then can the moonlight be bright at the bottom of the water know... "

The whole room was cheering and everyone praised him.

Fan Datong ignored it, held up his chopsticks and lowered his head, and quickly pulled the main dishes such as mushroom gluten, dried pineapple tea, vegetarian assorted, magnolia slices, etc. into his stomach.

Zhao Shouzheng did not come here. He actually yearned for today's writing. So after listening to Xuelang's poems carefully, he saw that several poets from the Jinling poetry world sang with him, but no one talked about moral articles, Zhu Zi, Cheng Yi and the like... Zhao Shouzheng had never seen the world, and he realized something was wrong in a short while.

When he looked around, he was the only one who was wearing blue shirts and Fan Datong.

The Ming Dynasty has its own regulations. Although the world has been declining in recent years, even merchants and civilians have worn silk and satin, which has long been chaotic. However, if they participate in a literary conference on the topic of business, students, students wear blue shirts, and scholars wear black round neck robes, this rule will not be messed up.

Obviously, there are either only two of them in this game, or this is not a literary event that requires proper dressing.

Zhao Shouzheng poked Fan Datong behind the back with a little cramped attitude, only caring about eating Haisai.

"Don't you say it's a literary master? How come it is a poetry master?"

"Where is the best poetry meeting in the literary gathering? If it weren't for the fundraising, we wouldn't be qualified to participate. Fan Datong whispered the fragrant rice while placing a mouthful of wine, he replied vaguely: "First be familiar with me, and meet again at the literary gathering in the future. I will be looked up to you."

Zhao Shouzheng was already very respectful of Xue Lang, and nodded as soon as he heard it, saying, "You have some truth to say, so let's be familiar with each other."

Fan Datong was anxious and choked while talking. He quickly picked up the wine pot on the table and poured the vegetarian wine brewed from the temple.

Zhao Shouzheng felt a little embarrassed. Now his family has four or five hundred taels of base, so his dough is not as thick as before.

"Eat slowly, don't choke." He whispered Fan Datong.

Fan Datong was distracted and continued to reach out to grab the plate in the distance, saying, "I don't know where the next meal is yet, let's have enough to talk about it first."

Judging from his eating behavior, he was indeed hungry for a few days. Zhao Shouzheng sighed in his heart, the sage said that the granaries are full and the etiquette is known, and it is indeed true.

But he did not mean to stay away from Fan Datong, but instead thought about how he could help his brother get out of this quagmire?

Zhao Shouzheng didn't care about Fan Datong's eating habits, but the people who were at the same table could no longer bear it.

From the time we sat in the morning until now, who has not been hungry to the front of his chest and back? He just held his own identity and saw Xuelang and others being very excited, so he didn't move his chopsticks much.

Besides, although this vegetarian meal is not expensive, everyone donated money when they enter!

Then I saw a middle-aged man dressed in a black satin round neck robe and a big hat dressed in a cussing table, pointing at Fan Datong, wearing a blue soap-collared shirt, and shouting coldly: "Where are you scrambling to eat here? You're dirtying the Buddhist clean land!"

When people near several tables heard the sound, they looked over and saw that it was a black robe scolding the student wearing a blue robe, and they all showed gloating expressions.

At this time, other deskmates also echoed the juren, shouting that Xiao Sha Mian would come over quickly and drive out the poor scholar who was just a fool!

Fan Datong said disdainfully: "Who said I am a scattered person? Isn't it just writing poetry? It seems that anyone can't do it."

"Then do it!" The juren sneered and started to squeeze. He was already angry today, thinking that as his own, he should sit in the front row. Unexpectedly, he was arranged in the corner and sat with a useless man in a blue shirt! He treated this man as a punching bag.

Most people attend poetry meetings and come to join in the fun. They naturally don’t bother to watch the fun, so they make a fuss together and ask Fan Datong to write poetry.

Fan Datong had already eaten and drank, raised his head and wiped his mouth, and said proudly: "What's the difficulty? Listen to my improvisational poem "The Pagoda Poem"!"

The court immediately calmed down, and the juren was so excited that he thought he wouldn't meet a genius, right? Then he would become a stepping stone for the other party to be famous...

Just as he was nervous, he heard Fan Datong chanting in a stern manner:

"Far from a distance, the pagoda is shining brightly, with a thick bottom and a sharp top. If the pagoda is turned upside down, the pagoda is thick top and a sharp top..."

The air in the field was frozen for several breaths before a burst of laughter broke out. The juren held his stomach and slapped the table, laughing to tears, and said in a suffocation: "This liquor poem is actually quite rhyme..."

When the tables approached, they were laughing in a slight way, which naturally attracted the attention of the tables farther away. People curiously asked about the reasons for laughter, and then more laughter spread, like waves of wheat in the wind, and in a short while, it spread throughout the tower courtyard.

Even the monk Xuelang laughed so hard that he fell into the cushion. It was so good that he could not get angry.
Chapter completed!