Now even Mrs. Wang couldn't sit still, she left her seat slightly, and asked in unison with Jia Mu.

Wang Xifeng laughed and said, "Is there any falsehood? What Feng'er saw with his own eyes and heard with his own ears!"

Mrs. Li, the wife of Prince Teng, was excited and said, "That big official must be Grand Sikong Song. Even I, a woman, have heard of this official, is a famous clean and upright person, and even the emperor dares to contradict him.

He said yes, that's right!

Baoyu is really improving now!”

As soon as these words were spoken, Jia Mu and others became more and more happy.

But I didn't notice that Daiyu, Xiangyun, Tanchun and others who had been sitting quietly below all the time became strange.

Poetry Fairy?

What a stubborn joke!

It is true that Baoyu can write poems, but everyone knows it well. How much does the devil in the world have to do with it? Who doesn’t know?

Don’t laugh at me!

But, if it weren't for the good poems made by Baoyu, who would have done them?

...

"good!"

"Hurrah!"

In Rongxi Hall, Mr. Song Yan, who has always been calm, feels like "I'm talking about a young man and having a crazy conversation."

He held a stack of paper in his hand, his eyes were excited and enthusiastic, and he couldn't believe it!

Except for him, everyone in the entire Rongxi Hall was stunned.

Jia Zheng looked at Song Yan who was standing up in horror, and also stood up, looked at him, then looked at Jia Cong, and finally turned his eyes to Jia Baoyu who was already confused behind him...

Most of the others are like this, and then they feel strange.

The Jia family has already produced a genius with a transcendent mind. Could it be that another amazing poetic talent has been produced?

If it weren't for this, how could Song Yan be so disobedient...

But what kind of good poems can make a contemporary scholar so lose his composure?

No matter how good the poem is, can it be better than Li Taibai?

It was hard for everyone to directly interrupt Song Yan, who was a little addicted or even intoxicated, and then they all looked at Jia Baoyu.

This is the first time in his life that so many men who serve as officials are watching him, Jia Baoyu was watching him for a moment, and cold sweat appeared on his forehead.

However, even he himself couldn't make a difference, what was going on?

He clearly wrote a poem about plum blossoms that he was not very satisfied with.

Could it be that this poem is made of chaos and a natural work?

True or fake?

Baoyu felt good for a moment...
Chapter completed!