Carefree Prince In Tang Dynasty

Li Xin was stared at so suddenly, his spine felt a chill, he quickly looked at Chen Youlan and said, "What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Chen Youlan curled her lips, snorted, and said, "It's nothing. Take a look."

Li Xin couldn't figure it out, and couldn't help but mutter in his heart: Why are you suddenly unhappy?

It seems that no matter which dynasty or generation, girls are girls, and their thoughts are always so unpredictable.

Although she said she was fine, Chen Youlan was still angry in her heart. It's rare to have a bit of poetry, but it was lost by Li Xin before it was brewed. Isn't it all Li Xin's fault? It's great to write poetry, isn't it? Would it be great to write "Qixi"? Not every poem can be written well.

The dazed Li Xin has not noticed that the anger of the girl next to him is rising inexplicably.

Speaking of it, the eternal injustice is nothing more than that. He just sat in the carriage to catch up on sleep. At most, he just slept a little late, and this could cause dissatisfaction?

Could it be that Runniang wiped my drool with a handkerchief just now, which made Chen Youlan angry? She wants to wipe my drool too?

Li Xin guessed a little speechlessly.

Chen Youlan endured it for a while, but finally she couldn't hold it back, she turned her head and looked at Li Daodao: "Write poetry!"

"Huh?" Li Xin was puzzled.

Are you still happy? Why do you suddenly want to write poetry again? Where is this!

"Write quickly! Let's take spring as the theme. I'd like to see how well you can write." Chen Youlan said with a whimper, her angry expression was really cute.

spring?

Li Xin blinked his eyes, looked at Chen Youlan, and then looked out of the window, as if he was still in a state of being confused.

Should the poem be written or not? Will writing make Chen Youlan calm down, or not writing can make Chen Youlan calm down?

This is a problem.

Thinking about it, when Hamlet was between survival and destruction, Li Xin might not be entangled at the moment.

"Write quickly!" Chen Youlan urged angrily.

Well, it seems that there is no choice left.

Li Xin looked up out of the window. The clear blue sky stretches to the infinite distance, and there are new plants everywhere. The stems and leaves of the grass and trees emit a faint fragrance that permeates the air, and you can smell a slight sweetness when you smell it carefully. Not far away, a tributary of the Wei River surrounding Chang'an flows quietly.

nice weather.

It's too bad.

Li Xin never thought that he would suddenly need to write poetry, so he couldn't think of any good sentences for a while.

Although there are many poems about spring, but now I think about it, none of them are so appropriate. What is the light rain on Tianjie? What jasper makes up a tree as tall, and there are no willows here! What is even more outrageous is the singing of warblers from thousands of miles away, how can there be such a style of water villages, mountains, country wine flags in this wilderness?

Moreover, literati and inkmen have had the custom of "sorrowing spring and mourning autumn" since ancient times. Although it is a spring full of vitality, their works are always full of sadness and melancholy. For example, the sound of wind and rain at night, how many flowers fall. This is the most well-known typical injury.

It's certainly not the right time to throw out such depressing verse.

After much deliberation, Li Xin finally came up with a poem suitable for this sunny day.

"Then I just said it?" He gave Chen Youlan a tentative look.

Chen Youlan rolled her eyes and said, "Say!"

"Ahem." Li Xin cleared his throat, "The mountains and mountains are beautiful in the late days, and the flowers and plants are fragrant in the spring breeze. Swallows fly in the mud, and mandarin ducks sleep in the sand."

This is a quatrain by Du Fu, which is not particularly famous. Li Xin also saw it by accident that year, and wrote it down because he liked the spring scene described in this poem very much. In just 20 words, a fascinating spring scene is depicted, and Mr. Du's skill in using words is beyond the reach of ordinary people.

Chen Youlan repeated the poem in a low voice, and then looked at the scenery outside the window.

Sunshine, spring breeze, flowers, birds, fish and insects, all kinds of scenery are wrapped in simple verses, which give an illusion of embracing spring in your arms when you read it.

Although it was not unexpected that Li Xin would write a good poem, when Li Xin really wrote such a good poem, Chen Youlan couldn't help feeling a little apprehensive, anyway, she was envious of Li Xin's brain.

However, thinking so in her heart, Chen Youlan absolutely couldn't say that, otherwise wouldn't it make Li Xin startled?

"Writing nonsense, where are the mandarin ducks?" She curled her lips and said.

Poetry writing is not documentary literature, and there is no need to correspond one-to-one with the real scene, as long as it is not completely separated. Although Chen Youlan understands this simple truth, she still finds fault with Li Xin.

Li Xin laughed, and said meaningfully: "Where are there no mandarin ducks?"

Chen Youlan didn't react at first, until she realized that Li Xin was looking at her with scorching eyes, she realized: Does the mandarin duck written by Li Xin refer to him and herself?

Looking at Chen Youlan's blushing cheeks, Li Xin knew that he had successfully escaped a catastrophe, so he couldn't help showing a smile on his face, hiding his merit and fame.