Chapter 1214

Many female great saints have small stars in their eyes and cast admiring eyes on Qin Mu.

It has to be said that the poems written by Qin Mu are still a little level and can be called a talent.

The dark moon messenger nodded slightly and recognized Qin Mu's achievements. In any case, Qin Mu's poems can be compared. Although they are not perfect, they can be regarded as excellent works.

"Next!" whispered the dark moon messenger.

As time passed, after Qin Mu finished, no other Saint stood up for a while.

About a minute later, in the crowd, a beautiful woman as beautiful as peach blossoms came out. She was the saint of the magic heaven Saint gate and the saint of flowers.

On her beautiful face, there was a touch of sadness, and she whispered, "I'm more worried when I don't see you in the autumn."

The poetry of the sage of flowers is relatively short, but it can't hide her talent.

The short two lines of poetry reveal a deep feeling of boudoir resentment.

The dark moon messenger nodded repeatedly and spoke highly of the saint of flowers.

In terms of achievements, the sage of flowers may surpass Qin Mu, the son of the Sun Temple.

Qin Mu's face was a little ugly. It seemed that he didn't expect that there was a talented woman who could make such an excellent poem.

With a "whoosh", after the hundred flowers saint, another beautiful woman who looked like an immortal came out, but it was the daughter of Murong aristocratic family, Murong Yan.

Boudoir resentment poetry is most suitable for women, just like the situation of many women.

In the fantasy world, many male martial artists are wandering outside. The wives at home naturally miss and are prone to boudoir resentment.

In addition, men in the wasteland are basically three wives and four concubines, and it is easy to ignore some of them.

Under the long-term neglect, it is normal to complain.

"My horse's hooves pass by in the dark moon. The spring breeze doesn't come, the catkins don't fly, and my heart is like a lonely city. My appearance may be a mistake. Cover a deep curtain for me. You are in the distant nine sky star river, and butterflies fly outside my window, like raindrops falling." Murong Yanlian walked leisurely through the crowd and read a rather amazing modern poem.

Her poetry has a unique style, no special rhythm and no rhyme, but the use of images can be called amazing and convey a faint sadness in the boudoir.

"Excellent! Good poetry! Good poetry! Where did this girl come from? Why have you never seen her before?"

"Her dress looks like Murong smoke, a young lady of Murong aristocratic family. However, isn't her face dreamy? How can she see it now?"

The crowd repeatedly praised Murong's performance. There is no doubt that Murong's cultural literacy is not generally high.

What is more strange is that Murong Yan's face has torn off the mysterious veil and presented the real face in front of everyone.

Murong Yan's talent was recognized by everyone. The dark moon messenger of the holy King nodded repeatedly and thought that Murong Yan's achievements were very outstanding.

However, the poetry competition continued, and many great saints present published their own poems.

Even if it's some bad poems or limericks, there's no way. Anyway, I have to write a poem.

With the passage of time, in the blink of an eye, more than 600 people completed their poems.

The remaining hundreds of people are basically rough men and reckless men. They have no culture and can't even make limericks. They can only give up.

Every poem of the more than 600 people who wrote poetry was registered.

The dark moon messenger offered a booklet and compiled the contestants' poems into a volume.

In the end, it is not the dark moon messenger who can decide who gets the best result. It is necessary to convene other dark moon messengers to meet together.

After all, poetry is too subjective and there is no fixed scoring standard, so it's better to call more dark moon messengers to score together.

Most of the literate saints present have completed the creation of poetry, except ye Qing, who still looks like a light cloud and wind, and constantly waved the folding fan in his hand.

The dark moon emissary's eyes are projected to pay attention to Ye Qing's situation. In the impression of the dark moon emissary, Ye Qing is a real talent and is sure to make better poetry.

If someone else, the dark moon messenger would not take the initiative to ask, and Ye Qing would be different.

"Sorry, dark moon Messenger, can I submit many poems? I can write 3000 poems on the theme of boudoir resentment at will!" Ye Qing said arrogantly.

Hearing Ye Qing's arrogant remarks, the dark moon messenger was a little confused.

Other people's poems are enough. Ye Qing is 3000 directly? That's a little exaggerated!

"Tang Bohu, I'll give you ten minutes. How many poems you can make depends on your level!" the dark moon messenger said slowly.

Ye Qing smiled. If he was the second in terms of the level of poetry, no one would dare to be the first in the whole wasteland!

When she was on earth, Ye Qing read 300 Tang poems by heart and was forced to hang and fry the sky.

Ye Qing can basically recite all kinds of Tang and Song poems!

After coming to the wasteland, Ye Qing got divine understanding, and her attainments in various poems became more profound!

Three thousand songs are still rare. In Ye Qing's memory, not to mention three thousand songs, even thirty thousand can speak out.

When she stepped out, Ye Qing gently waved a folding fan in her hand. She was elegant and said slowly, "if life is just like the first time, why does the autumn wind sad to draw the fan? Change easily, but it makes the people's heart, but the way makes the people's heart changeable."

One of Ye Qing's poems was said to amaze the audience, which made people nod and marvel!

The previous poems, compared with Ye Qing, are completely dregs.

I'm kidding. Ye Qing is a Chinese nation passing through the earth. It has rich cultural heritage. All kinds of poetry, songs and Fu are displayed in the fantasy world. That is amazing talent. No one can surpass it.

The dark moon messenger was surprised in his eyes. He didn't expect that Ye Qing really had such an amazing talent to make such a wonderful poem!

Every word, there are stress, artistic conception meaningful, meaningful, read to endless aftertaste, lingering sound!

"Don't you have other poems, Tang Bohu? You might as well tell them?" said the dark moon messenger.

Ye Qing smiled, met the requirements of the dark moon Messenger, waved the folding fan in her hand, slowly opened her mouth and said, "the screen window is sunset, and no one in the golden house can see tears. The lonely empty court is late in spring, and pear flowers don't open the door."

It is also a classic boudoir resentment poem, which perfectly fits the theme. The two poems created by Ye Qing are undoubtedly amazing and amazing!

The saint of flowers and Murong Yan in the crowd are full of colorful eyes and admire Ye Qing very much.

Ye Qing's talent is admirable. Both the great sage of flowers and Murong Yan are educated ladies. They like to recite poetry against each other on weekdays, and Ye Qing's talent in poetry has undoubtedly conquered them.

"Tang Bohu, your two poems are of high level. Is there anything else?" the dark moon messenger asked again.

In the beautiful eyes of the dark moon Messenger, there was a flash of pure light and full of expectation.

According to the dark moon Messenger, Ye Qing is definitely the most literate and literary among the great saints present!

"Of course, my boudoir resentment poems can speak from day to night. As long as you are willing to listen, thirty-three million capital will not be a problem." Ye Qing smiled calmly, folding fan demeanor and modest gentleman demeanor are admirable.