Zhao Hao buried his head in the quilt, and refused to respond without saying anything when Xuelang slapped the door outside.

It was not until Zhao Shouzheng came back in the middle of the night and tried to persuade Xue Lang to persuade him to leave the house.

Xuelang was carried out by the Gao family and son, and shouted to the west room:

"Master Zhao, I know that you don't like to be famous, it's really the style of the Wei and Jin Dynasties! But for the Ming Dynasty poetry scene, I will never allow you to be so low-key! I swear to make you famous for your reputation and make you famous all over Jinling, no, the entire Ming Dynasty!"

Zhao Hao burst into tears in his face in the quilt and sighed, "Monkey, monk, do you think I don't want to be famous? I really know how to copy poems, but I can't write poems. What if one day I need to make poems, or if I give a comment or correct me, I won't reveal my feelings immediately?"

He is not afraid of copying poems. What he is afraid of is that copying it to the end becomes a joke, so he made up his mind and never admit that it was written by himself... At least before learning to write poems, he must not recognize this account.

As for the future, if you really learn to write poetry, whoever doesn’t recognizes who is the grandson!

After seeing Xuelang off, Zhao Shouzheng walked out of the Xijian Gate and apologized through the door: "This time he made a fuss about his father and caused great trouble to his son..."

Zhao Hao really didn't want to continue to pour his magic sound into his ears, so he pretended to be asleep and started to snore.

"Oh, I think this child is so tired that he starts to snore..." Zhao Shouzheng shook his head in distress and tiptoed back to the house.

Whenever night falls, the tower of the Great Baoen Temple standing next to the Yuhuatai shines brightly, emitting colorful glazed light. It is extremely sacred in this night and even covers the bright moon in the sky.

There are two windows on each side of this nine-story and eight-sided glazed pagoda, totaling 144 window covers. The window covers are made of extremely thin clam shells, called "Mingwa", which have excellent light transmission.

There are 100 monks in the tower who take turns on duty, responsible for lighting the oil lamp behind each window when it is dusk, then adding oil, cutting the core, and wiping the bright tiles. To ensure that the tower lights are clear every night, the lamp oil required for each oil lamp every night is 6 taels and 4 cents, and the total amount of lamp oil consumed by the entire glazed tower is 1,530 kilograms per month.

Xuelang stood quietly outside his monastery, looking at the glazed pagoda that illuminated the night sky, and sighed for a long time: "If there is no such tower, the long night will be dim. If there is no donor Zhao, my poetry world in Daming will be long as the long night..."

After a while of God, he stepped into the monastery with the help of the little novice monk.

The furnishings in the monastery look very simple. There are only a few incense burners, a painting, a futon, a piano and a bookshelf.

However, the five-foot-long piece was made of agarwood. The table was skewed in the Jinbo Mountain furnace, and the deep-sea ambergris was burned. The pine stones on the zither table were made by Emperor Huizong of Song. The bookshelf and floor were all made of red sandalwood. All the books on the shelves were ancient versions of the Tang and Song dynasties, and the Qin and Han simplified pieces were compiled.

The only thing that is slightly off is the "Picture of a Lady in Blowing the Flute" painted by Tang Yin on the wall.

Painting is a good painting, and beauty who plays the flute is also pleasing to the eye, but this is a pure place in Buddhism...

The snow waves are as sweet as you can.

Under the service of the little novice monk, he removed the robes on his body, sat upright on the cushion, and took a sip of Mingqian tea that had just been transported from Longjing yesterday.

"I will publish these five poems and "Dielianhua" together, find the best bookstore, use the best paper and the best carving version, I will spread them all over Jinling within three days!"

Xuelang put down the teacup, took out the five poems from his sleeve and handed them to the little shaman, and said regretfully: "It's a pity that the suspected "Mulan Ci" only had one sentence, 'If life was just like the first meeting', and he had no chance to read the full lyrics. Donor Zhao was really cruel."

As he said that, he suddenly had a lit up in front of him and said, "If you have it, use these seven words as the name of the collection of poems."

"Is it 'If life is just like the first meeting'?" Xuelang's little novice monk also has considerable literary attainments. He said in a fascination when he heard this: "It's better to compare, and it's better to compare the senior brother in seven words."

"Do you need your reminder?" Xue Lang glared at the little shady monk angrily, and said with sincerity: "Although I am outstanding in talent, how can I compete with the light of fireflies with the bright moon?"

"Wow, my senior brother has learned to be modest." The little novice monk said in surprise.

"Stop talking." Xue Lang knocked on his bald head and asked again: "Have you figured out the situation of Mr. Zhao and his son?"

"I figured it out." The little novice monk presented a stack of papers he had just copied. "Please take a look at it with my senior brother."

Xuelang was drinking tea with a relaxed expression while looking at the pieces of paper. Gradually, a solemn look appeared on his handsome face.

After a long time, Xue Lang patted the stack of papers on several cases and said indignantly: "Gao Thief suppressed the unparalleled genius because of his own selfishness, which made me unruly in the Ming Dynasty poetry world without a master! He is a sinner for the ages, and I should punish him!"

"Senior brother is angry again..." The little shaman frowned while wiping the tea splashed on the table.

"I know, but who can't bear it?!" Xue Lang was still furious and stood up and paced back and forth on the sandalwood floor: "I told you why Donald Zhao was so low-key and didn't want to recognize the poem he wrote! It turned out that he was afraid that his reputation would be too famous, so he would attract revenge from Gao Xinzheng!"

After thinking for a while, Xue Lang ordered in a deep voice: "Let this collection of poems be slowed down first to avoid causing trouble for Donor Zhao."

As he said that, he sat down at the front of several cases, rolled up the mid laner's sleeve and said:

"Gyam, I want to write a letter to the leader of Alliance Wang and ask him to uphold justice for my poetry world!"

In the morning, when Zhao Hao got up, Zhao Shouzheng was gone. He probably was afraid of meeting his son...

Zhao Hao secretly reflected in his heart whether he had been a little strict with his father recently and felt that the parent-child relationship was a little nervous.

Alas, it’s mainly because I’m anxious about the autumn examination...

However, this seems to be very unfavorable for candidates to prepare for the exam. It seems that I should also review it and try to give Zhao Shouzheng a relaxed preparation environment.

After washing up, he planned to call Mr. Gao to go to the breakfast stall.

But suddenly I remembered that today was the day I had made an appointment with Tang Youde, so I didn’t go out.

Just as I was about to ask Gao Wu to go out to buy breakfast, I heard a knock on the door.

"The door is not closed, just come in by yourself." Old Man Gao responded.

Then I saw a girl Qiaoqiao wearing a green coarse cloth skirt and a wooden hairpin on her head, carrying a heavy bamboo basket.

Gao Wu hurriedly came up and took the bamboo basket.

"Oh, Qiaoqiao is here to deliver food again." Old Man Gao smiled and said, "Your brother has followed the master to go to prison early in the morning, but he can't eat the food you sent."

"My father asked me to send it here, it would be the same for anyone to eat." Qiao Qiao made a secret face at Old Man Gao and threatened him not to speak nonsense.

"Boss Fang is so polite." Zhao Hao smiled and greeted Qiaoqiao, "Miss Qiaoqiao also uses it together?"

"I'm older than you, I want to call you sister." Qiaoqiao emphasized seriously while putting out the steaming cage and soup bowl.

"Ha..." Zhao Hao ignored it and first picked up a small porcelain bottle, poured some strange powder into the soup bowl, stirred it evenly before drinking it in small sips.

Seeing that he was drinking soup very calmly and elegantly, Qiaoqiao somehow missed the poor boy who couldn't even afford to eat buns.

"Does there be flowers on my face?" Zhao Hao picked up a soup bag and took a strange look at Qiaoqiao.

"No, I'm back." Qiao Qiao blushed and turned around and left.

"No need to send it to you tomorrow morning." Zhao Hao said behind her.

Qiaoqiao's face turned pale.

"I will go to your house for food." Zhao Hao added.

Qiaoqiao's face turned redder.
Chapter completed!