Chapter 212： Who said an inch of grass, reported three Chunhui

In the evening, after dinner. Li Fan went back to the room and turned on the computer, ready to go online to see who his opponent was in the first round of the elimination round.

Wan Tao? Li Fan is a little impressed, he is the author of the eighth group of the group. The strength is good, and he advanced to the finals as the second in the group.

Immediately, Li Fan visited the poetry world again, and the enthusiasm of netizens became more and more high.

"It's the finals, and people are eliminated every day. It sounds cruel, but why am I so excited?"

"Wow, there is violence upstairs. But, I'm actually quite excited."

"This Wan Tao is really unlucky. I ran into Li Fan in the first round. Now it's going to be a round of the finals."

"This is not necessarily true. There are big variables to complete the proposition and compose a poem within half an hour."

"Wan Tao is not the most unlucky yet. Li Yue, who was the leader of the second group, met Yan Mu in the first round. This is the most unlucky."

"Yan Mu? That was last year's championship. If you meet Li Fan, I don't know who is strong and who is weak?"

"Under the competition system of the finals, it is estimated that Yan Mu is slightly better. After all, he is a decade older than Li Fan, and he is better in terms of qualifications and experience."

"..."

Yan Mu? It seems that netizens agree with the strength of this Yanmu. Li Fan saw the names mentioned by netizens most often, namely, himself and Yan Mu, followed by Mo Bai and others.

It seems that the winner of last year's championship seems very strong. Very good, that's interesting.

...

Magic City, a residential area.

"The grouping in the first round has come out. We seem to be lucky, and we haven't encountered each other's killing." Mo Bai said with a smile.

Lu Ran nodded and said, "Not only that, no one of us has met Li Fan yet."

Wang Ling shook his head and said: "Brother Lu must not forget the rules of the finals stage. Even if you meet Li Fan on a narrow road, it is still unclear who wins and loses."

Du Feng smiled and said: "It's true, I really hope to meet Li Fan again and fight with him again."

Mo Bai said: "Don't worry, we will always meet him. Unless he is eliminated in the first round. But this possibility is unlikely."

"Right!" The other three nodded and said yes at the same time.

...

On September 9, after Li Fan had been busy for a whole day, he had dinner early. At 6:20 in the evening, I sat in front of the computer and waited for the start of the first round of elimination.

Elimination rounds are different from group matches. As long as the entries are uploaded to the group stage in advance, it doesn’t matter if people are present or not during the match. The knockout is not good, at least the half an hour between 6:30 and 7:00 must be in, otherwise you will be eliminated directly.

In fact, there will be one or two in each competition, and it is a pity that those who have not submitted their works in time are eliminated.

Li Fan didn't want to be eliminated like this.

The other 63 contestants obviously had the same idea. At this time, they all sat in front of the computer and waited for the start of the competition.

Netizens are also very punctual, but they are still talking about it while they are waiting.

"It will start right away. I don't know what the first question is?"

"Who knows this, it's different every year."

"I'll see it in a few minutes. Let's wait and see."

"..."

In the eyes of everyone, the time came to 6:30 in the evening.

The interface of the official website of the Chinese Poetry Association changed, and the question of the first round of the knockout contest appeared on the official website.

At this time, the entire official website has nothing else except this question and the one and a half hour countdown logo.

At this time, both the participating authors and countless netizens were refreshed and carefully observed this topic.

Li Fan is no exception.

This is a painting, which seems to be a poem based on the content of the painting.

In the picture is an ordinary farmhouse. The adobe walls, thatched roofs, and some dilapidated fences around show that this family is not wealthy. Sitting at the door of the house is a middle-aged woman with a piece of clothing spread on her knees, her left hand stroking the surface of the garment, and her right hand holding a sewing needle, seeming to be stitching her clothes densely.

Not far from the middle-aged woman, a young man of about 20 years old was packing up a baggage, as if he was going to travel far. The man is not wearing a jacket, his jacket should be the dress the middle-aged woman is sewing on.

Outside the fence gate, a winding path leads to the distance...

This is the content of the whole picture. The picture is not complicated, a young man is going to travel a long distance, and her mother is sewing his clothes.

Li Fan's eyes condensed, and some tears faintly shine.

At this time, many people understood this painting.

"This is a poem for my mother. This is the title of the first round of this year's knockout round."

"I think many of us have had this experience, mother..., at this time, my eyes are a little moist."

"Yeah, as soon as this question came out, it reminded us of our mother. However, this kind of poem is not easy to write."

"Well, it's easy to write to mother, but it's not easy to write a poem."

"..."

Beijing, the headquarters of the Chinese Poetry Association.

"President, this question seems to make everyone's atmosphere a little dignified." Bai Yi said.

Han Zhong nodded and said, "This is a picture that many of us have experienced. It will naturally arouse some memories and sadness. However, this question is very meaningful. Write a poem dedicated to mother. This is every one of us. What a poet should do."

Liu Yuan also nodded and said, "It's true. We can have more questions like this in the future. It's just that such poems are really not easy to write. Everyone is probably going to be troubled."

Bai Yi said: "If it's easy to write, then it won't be called the finals. Everyone is an elite who has been smashed out of the surroundings, let us wait and see.

...

"Poem for mother."

People of different ages and different experiences should have different feelings about this picture. But no matter how they feel, it does not affect their expectations for this round of competition.

What kind of answers will each of the 64 participating authors give?

At this time, Zheng Jie, Yu Qiu, Tang Quan, Su Qing, Tang Ying and others were silent while looking at the screen on the computer.

...

Li Fan clearly remembered the day when he went to university in the previous world and left the village. His mother was like the mother in the picture, sitting at the door of the hall, carefully mending his clothes.

A few years later, before he had time to repay, he had already arrived in this life. Fortunately, the heavens treat him not badly. Whether it is in the past or in this life, my mother has not changed, and everything is still too late.

He gently wiped away the tears from the corner of his eyes and wrote a poem like this on the computer:

Mother hands line, wandering clothing.

Departure thick seam, meaning fear of delay in return.

Whoever said an inch of grass, reported three Chunhui.

...

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