After dinner, the high-speed blacksmith washed the dishes. Zhao Hao directed Gao Wu and Fang Wen to clean up the west wing full of miscellaneous items. Then he set up the broken bed where Zhao Hao had slept, and served as Fang Wen's residence.

The west wing room is connected to the kitchen and is quite narrow. These days, Zhao Hao bought a lot of things, all piled up on the side of the wall. Now he is placed on the bed by the window, and there is only an aisle left in the room, and both of them are unable to leave.

"Why don't you sleep with Brother Gao?" Zhao Hao was a little reluctant and suggested. Relatively speaking, the east wing where Gao Wu lives is much more spacious.

Fang Wen looked at Gao Wu, who was full of fierce faces, and his head was shaking like a rattle.

"It's great here. I always sleep in dirt beds at home..."

"Uh..." Zhao Hao was stunned: "A rustic bed?"

"I built it with mud, and put a bed on it." Fang Wen explained in a low voice: "Many families on this street sleep in such beds."

"Oh, the days of military households are really too difficult." Zhao Hao sighed and asked Fang Wen: "Your family is also a military household?"

"No," Fang Wen shook his head and said quietly: "My family is a private household, and I moved here only when I was dilapidated."

Zhao Hao thought to himself that Caijiaxiang is indeed a gathering place for dilapidated houses, and there are also thieves and soldiers. No wonder the housing prices cannot rise; no wonder he won the title of richest man in this street so easily.

He wanted to ask Fang Wen how his family was ruined, but he was worried about his father, so he stopped talking and let the two of them rest on their own.

When he came out of the yard, the high-tech blacksmith had packed the dishes and put them in the bowl and basket to carry them back in front and use them tomorrow.

Zhao Hao suddenly remembered something and called him, "My uncle has time tonight, so he ground the jade pillars into powder for me and bring them back."

"Yes, young master." After the two days of running-in, the high blacksmith has completely entered the role and regarded himself as a servant of the Zhao family.

There was no one else in the house, so Zhao Hao made a pot of tea with the newly bought purple clay pot and brought it into the east room.

In the east room, Zhao Shouzheng was sitting at the table, biting the pen, thinking hard at Zhang Baizi.

Zhao Hao gently put down the teapot and asked, "Did my father have encountered any unpleasant feelings at the literary meeting?"

"Oh, Brother Fan misled me."

Zhao Shouzheng sighed and told Zhao Hao about the daytime incident.

Zhao Hao couldn't help but widen his eyes and said, "My father quotes classics all day long, but he can't write poems?"

"My father also likes delicious food, but he still can't cook..." Zhao Shouzheng spread his hands and said, "In fact, it can be done with barely, but in the atmosphere at that time, Mother felt that he was trying to be too rude to be too rude."

"Indeed..." Zhao Hao nodded deeply and then burst into tears: "Father can actually think of this section. Our hard days are really in vain!"

"Well, I feel that I have grown a lot recently." Zhao Shouzheng immediately smiled when he heard this, and said silly: "I really want to spend a few more days like that..."

"Take it seriously?" Zhao Hao looked at him and pressed his hand on the mahogany desk and said, "Then I will let someone restore the home to its original state tomorrow..."

"Haha, I'm joking about my father..." Zhao Shouzheng had to say embarrassedly: "Who will give up a good life? Do you think I'm stupid?"

"Hahaha..." The father and son laughed for a while, and Zhao Hao raised his eyebrows and said, "Those damn people dare to look down on their father. Let's see how I deal with them!"

"Son, that's a royal temple, don't move too much." Zhao Shouzheng waved his hand and said, "Besides, those are all people with identities, so we can't afford to offend them."

"Who said I'm going to move thickly?" Zhao Hao raised his eyebrows and said, "Didn't they ask you to write poems? I'll think about it at night and help you make a few poems tomorrow morning!"

Although Zhao Shouzheng disagreed, he was still very moved.

"It's enough for my son to have this heart. Don't worry about it, it will affect sleep."

Zhao Hao knew that he didn't believe it, so he stopped talking and went back to the house.

Zhao Shouzheng continued to sit at the table and searched for the sentences, but after a while, he lay on the table and cried out the pigs.

When he suddenly woke up, the rooster was already crowing three times outside and it was bright.

Zhao Shouzheng wiped off the saliva from his mouth, stretched his waist and sighed: "Oh, it's not the material for writing poetry. Forget it, study is more important, so don't touch that bad head..."

Before he finished speaking, he saw a stack of manuscript paper on the table.

Zhao Shouzheng picked it up and looked at it. He saw that there was a poem written on each piece of paper. It was obvious that the rather tender handwriting was from Zhao Hao.

Zhao Shouzheng was so moved that he didn't bother to read the poem, so he rushed out of the east room with those manuscripts, preparing to praise him first, and then talk about it.

But he lifted the curtain of the west room and saw Zhao Hao sleeping soundly on the bed.

But Zhao Shouzheng felt very distressed, thinking that the child must have not slept all night, so he quickly put down the curtain and quietly retreated back to his room.

Then he had time to see how childlike and cute his son's debut should be.

Who knew that he was shocked at this sight.

"this……"

"This is..."

"This is this..."

Zhao Shouzheng looked through the poems one by one as if he was possessed by a demon, rubbing his eyes hard over and over again, and sat on the ground in disbelief.

He has been studying for almost thirty years, and even without poetry, he has a level of appreciation. Naturally, he can see that these six articles are rare and superior in this dynasty!

The peak of poetry was in the Tang and Song dynasties. Although scholars in the Ming Dynasty liked to write poems and write lyrics, they had few eye-catching works. Zhao Shouzheng felt that his son made these six poems, each of which could represent the peak of poetry in the Ming Dynasty...

Zhao Shouzheng was so excited that his face was full of tears, and he got up from the ground with trembling trembling. He wanted to rush in and hug his son, but when he thought that he was taking a break, he could not disturb him, so he had to suppress his excitement and quietly walked out of the main house.

In the yard, Gao Wu was punching in a turbulent manner. When he saw the master crying, he was so scared that he quickly stopped his moves and looked at him for inquiries.

"Hurry, I will burn incense and worship God!" Zhao Shouzheng said excitedly: "I want to thank my ancestors and God, and I gave it to me Li Bai!"

But where is the god position in his family? Gao Wu scratched his head, and finally remembered one, pointed to the kitchen and said:

"Only the Kitchen God..."

"Don't dislike it!"

Zhao Shouzheng didn't care about that anymore, so he immediately put three incense sticks on the Kitchen God, kowtowed respectfully, and silently asked him to send a message to the gods next to him, and then he calmed down his excitement.

When Zhao Shouzheng came out of the kitchen, Fan Datong came.

"Wow, wow, wow..." Looking at the refreshing appearance inside and outside the house, Fan Datong shouted. "Is it because the uncle official has resumed his post? Or did the brother dig out the previous dynasty's gold hidden from the backyard?"

"Wow, don't disturb my son." Zhao Shouzheng glared at him and said proudly: "This is all earned by my son. How about it, am I awesome?"

"Ah, since it's the work of a virtuous nephew, what does it have to do with his brother?" Fan Datong asked strangely.

"Didn't my son give birth to me?" Zhao Shouzheng spat and put the copied poem in his sleeve and said, "I am a genius who is a father to give birth to such an excellent son."

"Uh, okay..." Fan Datong smacked his lips. He had no children and could not understand this. So he changed the topic and said, "Brother, there is still a literary meeting today. I have been sure that this time it is a literary meeting, and with Dabaoen Temple, one in the north and the other in the south, I will definitely not meet those people..."

Zhao Shouzheng shook his head flatly and said, "No, go to Bao'en Temple!"

"Brother, Master Xuelang asked you to go again today. In fact, it was to help you save the situation. Don't let them down." Fan Datong was stunned, thinking that it was too late to hide. Why are you going to get up with me, brother?

Zhao Shouzheng nodded confidently and said:

"I vote for my papaya and give it to my Qiongju. I must leave for my brother!"
Chapter completed!