Wishing for a long life?
A thousand miles of cicadas?
Zhang Ye had already finished reciting the poem. As the echo lingered, everyone present felt their goosebumps explode. They instantly fell silent out of fear! The entire auditorium reverberated with the echo of the microphone!
When this poem was recited, it shocked the entire auditorium!
Meng Dongguo was dumbfounded when he heard it halfway!
Big Thunder, Zheng Anbang, Little Red Mushroom and the other Teachers from the Writers' Association were also dumbfounded!
Even the host, Zhang Huo, was so shocked that he forgot to speak into the microphone. It was even worse for the female host, Sun Mengjie. She stared with her eyes wide open. She did not even notice that the microphone had fallen from her hand. Only when the microphone landed on the red carpet on the podium with a heavy thud did she snap out of her daze. Then, everyone was pulled back to their senses by this sound. It was as if they had just climbed down from the moon in Zhang Ye's poem!
Hua!
The shouting suddenly exploded!
"Good poem!"
"What the f * * k!"
"Heavens! What did I hear! "
"A stroke of genius! A stroke of genius! "
"It's too awesome! This poem is so f * * king awesome! "
Some people could not help but stand up and applaud loudly!
Director Zhao Guozhou and Wang Xiaomei, who were below the stage, were also shocked!
They heard Big Sis Zhou exclaim, "Such a good poem! Teacher Little Zhang really composed it on the spot? Oh my God! Oh my Buddha! Oh my Guan Yin Bodhisattva! Oh my God! Oh my God! " She believed in quite a lot of things. There were all sorts of them. "That 'The Song of the Stormy Petrel' was composed on the spot. 'Flying Bird and Fish' and 'A Generation' were improvised. 'See Me or Not' was written on the spot. This poem was also written at the last minute? How is this possible!? How does this Teacher Little Zhang's brain work!? "
Huala!
It was unknown who was the first to applaud! The applause was thunderous!
This was not a description! It was really a thunderous commotion! The entire auditorium's ceiling seemed like it was about to be blown off! Other than the applause, there was no other sound!
What was so good about this poem? Many laymen might not be able to explain it, but they knew it was definitely good.
Only Meng Dongguo, Zheng Anbang, and a few others knew what realm this poem was at. This poem was written to the extreme. It revolved around the bright moon of the mid-autumn moon to expand one's imagination and thinking. It incorporated the joys and sorrows of the world into the philosophical pursuit of life in the universe!
When will the moon appear? Holding a cup of wine, I ask the clear sky.
I wonder what year it is in the Heavenly Palace?
Every sentence was a classic, and every sentence was filled with charm. Some of the words even had to be repeated many times before one could understand the profound meaning behind them! For example, riding the wind and returning home? Why use the word "return"? The few people from the Writers' Association did not understand when they first heard it, but towards the end, they gradually understood. The word "return" could be said to be the finishing touch. It expressed that the original author, Zhang Ye, did not treat himself as a mortal, but as an immortal, detached from the world. Hence, he had to "return" to the Immortal Palace, and not go to the Immortal Palace. It seemed arrogant, but the essence of this poem had separated itself from the world. It had been raised by more than one level! Together with the closing line, the dozen or so Teachers and writers from the Writers' Association were shocked speechless!
Zhang Ye?
Who was this?
What sort of person was this?
Other than Meng Dongguo, Little Red Mushroom, and a few others who had a little understanding of Zhang Ye, the other Teachers from the Writers' Association did not know this person. They had never even heard of him before, so they were immediately alarmed. How could a person who could write such a poem be a nobody? How could he be a newcomer they had never heard of? And it had to be known that these people had prepared for this Mid-Autumn Poetry Meet for many days, but this person had been singled out! He did not even have a moment to prepare! Just this one move! Not a single person here felt that they could do it! What's more, he had written such an earth-shattering poem!
When did such a ruthless person appear in the poetry world!?
Two minutes. The applause lasted for a full two minutes before it ended!
"Zhang Ye!"
"Zhang Ye!"
"Zhang Ye!"
"Zhang Ye!"
Then, shouts began to ring out. Many people were shouting Zhang Ye's name, cheering for him, cheering for him, and supporting him!
Why?
It was because Meng Dongguo had been a bully previously!
To publicly deny Zhang Ye? To even say that he was an amateur? To even call him out by name for him to come up? To even point out his mistakes and give pointers to others on how to write poems? Don't forget that this was the Beijing Radio Station. It was Zhang Ye's unit. For a colleague to be bullied to such an extent, everyone was a little angry! Seeing Zhang Ye's prowess in creating such a marvelous poem, everyone cheered as if they were on stimulants. On the surface, they were shouting Zhang Ye's name to cheer for him, but in fact, they were ridiculing Meng Dongguo, Big Thunder and company!
Deputy Station Head Jia's face turned black. He stood up and clapped his hands. This was still a live broadcast. What the heck was this!?
Seeing the Station Head step forward, everyone stopped shouting and sat down. They were all waiting to watch the commotion!
The host, Zhang Huofang, finally had time to speak. He took a deep breath and said, "Teacher Zhang Ye, what's the name of this poem? Can you tell us? "
Zhang Ye smiled, "It's called 'Shuidiao Getou'."
Sun Mengjie said, "I already do not know how to evaluate it. I'm a layman, and I don't know poems. But I didn't even know that I dropped the microphone. You should know how much I love this poem. Really, I love this poem to death. This poem is extremely beautiful!"
Zhang Ye was also a person who wished for the world to be in chaos. He said, "It's alright. You are a layman, but we have experts here. They are all professional Teachers from the Writers' Association." Turning his head, he looked at Meng Dongguo and Big Thunder. The two of them had already returned to their seats offstage while Zhang Ye was reciting the poem, but Zhang Ye still managed to find them with a glance, "Teacher Meng, Teacher Big Thunder. Just now, the two of you said that my work does not have any literary value. Previously, you also said that I might not know how to write poems. Well, I also admit that I'm a beginner and an amateur. I am humbly seeking advice from you Teachers, hoping that you can help me improve my standards.
Zhang Huo nearly laughed out loud.
Sun Mengjie was also at a loss whether to laugh or cry.
Hearing this, Big Thunder nearly vomited blood. He nearly went up to curse. Your grandpa! Guide you, my ass!
Find problems? Find problems? I haven't even fully understood the meaning of this poem! Where can I go to find problems for you!? Although he was unconvinced and angry, this anger was mostly due to his embarrassment. Objectively speaking, Big Thunder had to admit that Zhang Ye's poem was perfect. No one could find any problems, much less them. Zhang Ye was ridiculing them!
Meng Dongguo was even more direct. He lowered his head and whispered to a youth from the Writers' Association beside him. It was as if they were discussing the poem, pretending not to hear Zhang Ye's words.
The people who had clamored previously no longer said a word!
Faced with such an earth-shattering poem, they could not utter a single word!
Upon seeing this, Zhang Ye also felt that there was no meaning in it. There was no need to say anything more. He had already used his work to make a sound. Besides, this was a live broadcast. Many people were listening, so it was not appropriate for Zhang Ye to say too much. If he said too much, he would slip up, and it would put him in a passive position. Although those words from before could be seen as Zhang Ye's retaliation, he had said it without any mistakes. He had always admitted that he was an amateur, a beginner seeking guidance. No one could say anything. Hence, he handed the microphone back to the host and prepared to leave the stage.
Zhang Huo was rather warm-hearted, "Teacher Zhang, although we have entered the second evaluation segment, it has always been the Mid-Autumn Poetry Meet. This poem of yours will definitely be voted on by the netizens. Do you want to canvass for votes for yourself?"
Zhang Ye turned around and smiled, "It's fine. There's no need."
No need to canvass for votes? Meng Dongguo and company had already canvassed for votes. You don't need to?
Zhang Huo did not understand Zhang Ye's attitude, so he could only respect his thoughts.
When Meng Dongguo heard this, he slightly narrowed his eyes. Not canvassing for votes? Canvassing for votes was actually fine. He believed that he would definitely get first place. There were two reasons.
There were two reasons. First, he felt that his poem was very good. He did not admit that his "Thoughts on a Rainy Mid-Autumn Night" was much worse than Zhang Ye's "Shuidiao Getou". He felt that his work was one of the rare Mid-Autumn poems in recent years. Second, he had the advantage of time. Meng Dongguo was the first to recite a poem at the poetry meet. It started at 12 AM and ended at 2 AM, which was a full two hours. The longer this segment was, the more votes there would be. This was indisputable. This was also the reason why Meng Dongguo was arranged to be the first to appear. As the Beijing Writers' Association's Vice President, a leading figure in Beijing's poetry field, he would not be able to show his face if he got second place in this competition. Be it him or the radio station, they would definitely try their best to ensure that he would be the champion. If not, Meng Dongguo would probably not participate, as it would affect his prestige.
But what about Zhang Ye?
It was already 1: 30 AM. That was to say, Zhang Ye had less than half an hour left!
Even if the netizens and listeners liked his poem and voted for him, how many votes could they cast? They definitely could not surpass Meng Dongguo. Hence, he believed that this championship was in the bag!
As he thought so, so did others.
For example, Big Thunder and Little Red Mushroom had the same thoughts. They knew that even if Zhang Ye's poem was written well, he did not have any hopes of becoming the champion. It was unlikely that he would even enter the top three. How many votes could he cast in twenty minutes? The others already had more than ten thousand votes. It would be pretty good if Zhang Ye could only enter the top ten! When the results were out, no one cared about the process or whether there was enough voting time. All they cared about was the result. When the top three places were monopolized by the Writers' Association, Zhang Ye would barely be ranked outside the top three. It would be considered saving face for Meng Dongguo and the Writers' Association!
Hur, alright!
Your poem this time has a literary quality!
We also admit that your poem is really good!
But so what? Won't you still be ranked behind us? In the end, everyone will see that you are still inferior to a professional Teacher like us, the Writers' Association!
Literates were rather stubborn. Maybe it was because of the small clash at the beginning that caused the grudge to grow. No one was willing to let it go. Anyway, they were determined to compete with Zhang Ye! This was probably a clash between them, the orthodox Teachers of the Writers' Association, and Zhang Ye, an unorthodox "amateur" who wrote supernatural, fairy tales, and poems! No one would give up until the other was convinced!
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