Chapter 217: Two hundred twenty one

Chapter 217 Chapter 221: Dream (2)
The dream that will be laughed at is the value of realization. Even if you fall, your posture will be very bold.
Xu Laoying looked at Wanli Cangqiang and smiled. It turned out that it is so pleasant to share dreams with friends, especially when he can feel the blessings of friends.
If these words were spoken in the Xu family, I don't know how many people would laugh at his arrogance.
In Zhongying City, even if he has overwhelmed all the Xu family's mortal martial arts and is incompetent, others will only say that he is just relying on the risk of overdrawing the kidneys. If this goes on and the kidneys are exhausted, how can he break through? .
The rumors spread for a long time and it became a fact. When getting along with his brothers in the clan, he could always feel the contempt of others.
But in Mi Bai and Tang Luo, I can't feel the slightest, this is really good.
Young Master Changfeng turned around excitedly, looked at the two of them and said, "How about you, do you have a dream?"
People must have dreams, otherwise it is different from salted fish.
Mi Bai glanced at Xu Laoying, stood up and walked to him, looked at Wanli Yunhai and smiled: "I want to raise the children well."
The current life is all he dreams of, doing what he likes to do, but also in exchange for money.
Business is getting better day by day, so that he can take in more orphans and avoid starvation and freezing.
Living in Xiling at a young age, he deeply understands the feeling of loneliness and helplessness. He is not like Xu Laoying. His dream is big and awesome. He just wants to do his best to help those children who have lost everything like him. .
For him, this is his biggest dream, and it is more important than becoming a master of calligraphy and painting.
Xu Laoying nodded, and said to Tang Luo: "How about you?"
"Me?" Tang Luo stood up with a smile, walked to the two of them, and said lightly: "My dream is a poem."
The most illiterate of the three dreamed of being a poem, and the success of this speech aroused their ideas.
Xu Laoying let out a cry and asked curiously: "Which work is it?"
Poems and books have not been separated since ancient times. As two people who love calligraphy and calligraphy, they also love poetry, but the poetry is mostly about children's love, which masterpiece can be called by Tang Luo's dream, let Xu Lao win very much curious.
"You probably haven't heard of this guy."
"Impossible!" Xu Laoying waved his hand resolutely: "The world's poems are all out of Yuanzhou, can anyone I don't know?"
The Tao of poems and books has declined, and everyone is even rarer. Xu Laoying, who has loved it since childhood, does not believe that there are famous poets he does not know. As long as Tang Luobao's name is published, he will know. At this point, he is extremely confident.
Unless everyone in Tang Luo's mouth is just an unknown wandering poet, what amazing masterpieces such a poet can write, can make his wise cousin a dream.
Therefore, Xu Laoying reminded with concern: "Cousin, don't be fooled by some wandering poets. Some wandering poets have very bad morals. They always put together some famous masterpieces and deceive them as their own works. Don't be fooled!"
There is no market in Yuanzhou for such wandering poets who cheat and drink, but they are not uncommon in other continents.
Xu Laoying is worried that his cousin will be bluffed by such a person.
"No, this is a poetic saint." Tang Luo answered seriously.
"Poetry Saint!?" Xu Laoying took a breath and said anxiously: "Cousin, you must have been deceived. The way of poetry is extremely difficult. Throughout the ages, there have been many people, but there is no one who can be called a saint. He actually Dare to claim to be a poem saint, if he were in the Yuanzhou realm, he would be drowned by the literati's spit star on the basis of this madman."
"Yes, Brother Tang, Brother Yu is just a rough way of poetry, but he has never heard of someone being revered as a poet of poetry, you" Mi Bai wanted to tell Tang Luo that he was deceived, and was afraid that the poem passed to him would be wronged. People, maybe the saint in the poem who really is not born.
"Well, let's not talk about the origins, don't you listen to the poem?" Tang Luo didn't want to argue with the two, because there is no need to argue about this matter. If they know that the two people are so true to the author, he would even mention it. Won't mention it.
After all, compared with the crude poetry of this world, if this poetic saint really came, it would not be an exaggeration to say that he could prove the Tao with poetry.
"Listen, of course you must listen!" Xu Laoying said stubbornly. He had already determined that Tang Luo must have been deceived by the bard, and that poem must have been pieced together from other people.
He has made up his mind to pierce the lies of the "wandering poet" and introduce the real poetry to his cousin.
They all suffer from the loss of no culture! Xu Laoying looked at Tang Luo's eyes full of pity.
What kind of broken eyes are you. Tang Luo looked helpless at Xu Laoying's eyes, and chanted to himself:
How about Dai Zongfu? Qi Lu is still young.
Good luck Zhong Shenxiu, yin and yang cut faint dawn.
Zeng Yun was born with a chest swing, and he decided to return to the bird.
Will be the top of the Ling, a glance at the mountains!
"Okay!" Xu Laoying's eyes were exquisite, and he admired: "It's a good one to be the top of the mountain, looking at the mountains and small mountains. My warriors should climb to the top and overlook the world. This poem is truly a strange poem. !"
This compliment did not elicit a response, because after Tang Luo finished reading the poem, he lost his senses at the sea of ​​clouds.
When this poem was just blurted out, he felt a lonely moment, it was a kind of loneliness deep in his bones.
Even if you are in a busy city, even if you are surrounded by people who love you, you are still alone.
Because in this world, you only have yourself.
At the end of Wang Yue's last word, he suddenly realized that he had become a wanderer in a world.
The ancients expressed love with poetry, and sincerely did not deceive me.
"Oh, it might as well forget." Tang Luo whispered to himself.
"Forgot? Why forgot!" Xu Laoying, with his six senses, immediately caught the whisper, and said excitedly: "The author of this poem is a real everyone, brother, can you still find him now? I want Print everybody’s poems in a book and spread them all over Yuanzhou!"
After hearing such a poem, Lord Changfeng completely forgot how righteous he criticized the author just now, and became a fan of the poet saint, and even wanted to preach the name of the poet saint.
Looking at the excited Xu Lao Ying, Tang Luo said quietly, "I can't find it."
Feeling the loneliness in his emotions, Xu Laoying was taken aback: "Why can't I not find it?"
Tang Luo did not answer, but he sighed while looking at the churning sea of ​​clouds.
Is this everyone dead? Xu Laoying's heart was tense: "This kind of character has no chance to see you again. What a pity!"
The other person immersed in poetry is much more pragmatic.
"Brother Tang, everyone, is there only this poem?" Mi Bai asked cautiously.
"One?" Tang Luo sighed quietly, "This one has composed more than 1,500 poems in his life, otherwise, why would he be revered as a poem saint."
The huge number of people took a breath, especially Xu Lao Ying, who combined the masterpieces he knew, and there was no number in one thousand, and Tang Luo actually said that this is written by everyone alone. It is more than the sum of what he has read, how can people not be surprised.
If every capital is as amazing as this song, Xu Laoying's heart is pounding involuntarily.
(End of this chapter)