Marquis Weiwu was angry.
Anyone could feel his anger!
His breathing suddenly became heavy, his face as black as the bottom of a pot, and his eyes flickered with a dangerous light.
Those who were familiar with Marquis Weiwu knew that whenever he showed this expression, it meant that he had the intention to kill.
Why was he so angry?
Because he felt that his feelings had been deceived.
He thought that his butler had done something unforgivable, which was why Ye Ning had come to his door.
This kind of dog thief who used his name to cause trouble, he would treat it as a favor and give it to Ye Ning. It was not a big deal.
However, after understanding the whole thing, he realized that things were not that simple.
A cart of charcoal.
A charcoal seller.
This was called trouble?
His reaction was exactly the same as that of the Overwatch Council. You came to kick down the door of my Weiwu Marquis because of such a trivial matter?
Marquis Weiwu thought that this was impossible. No one would be so bored. Ye Ning must be deliberately targeting him!
The so-called "butler robbed a cart of charcoal" was just a lame excuse.
This was the same logic as 'walking with the left foot first' and convicting someone.
"Looks like Lord Ye has other intentions. On the surface, you want to capture my housekeeper, but in reality, you're here for me!”
Marquis Weiwu no longer had any good feelings towards Ye Ning.
After some thinking, he once again had killing intent towards Ye Ning.
"Just for a cart of coal?"
The scholars who stood on Ye Ning's side didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
He thought it was something…
The result was a car full of coal.
This reason was really too ridiculous…
"Ye Qing, this…"
Ji Mingyue, who was in the palace, did not know what to say.
Was Ye Ning looking for trouble?
She, who had always trusted Ye Ning deeply, actually had an illusion.
That was because Ye Ning had gone overboard in this matter.
Ye Ning had no way of knowing Ji Mingyue's reaction.
But looking at Marquis Weiwu, looking at the scholars, and thinking about the reaction of the Overwatch Council people, Ye Ning suddenly laughed.
"Just a cart of charcoal…"
Was it really that simple?
Deep in Ye Ning's heart, there was a strong sense of sorrow.
This world was really sick. It was so sick that people had already treated the matter of " plundering other people's property " as a trivial matter.
"I have a poem that I want to share with everyone.”
Ye Ning looked around at everyone.
He did not know how to describe his feelings.
Ever since he transmigrated, he had treated himself as a passerby most of the time.
Only at this moment did he feel a deep sorrow.
"Charcoal seller, cutting firewood and burning charcoal in Nanshan.”
Ye Ning said calmly.
The crowd couldn't understand Ye Ning's grief at the moment, but it didn't stop them from listening to Ye Ning recite poems.
Ye Ning's talent had long been known throughout the capital.
Among the scholars, many people gave him a nickname, Ye Zhenguo.
This was because he had written a poem to defend the country.
But after that, Ye Ning stopped writing.
Many people were looking forward to his next masterpiece.
Now, it had finally come out!
The scholars listened attentively, but when the first sentence was read out, they all frowned.
"You call this a poem?"
How could there be such a simple and straightforward poem…
Was this a poem or a vernacular?
However, Ye Ning did not care about what others thought. He continued to recite the poem.
"His face is ashen, his temples are gray, and his fingers are black.”
She was still very straightforward, so straightforward that no talent could be seen.
However, Ye Ningwen's courage surged.
It gushed out from his Baihui acupoint and floated in spirals, forming a vivid painting in the air.
In the painting was the image of the charcoal seller.
He spent the whole year chopping wood and burning charcoal in the southern mountains. His face was dusty, the color of smoke and fire. His hair was gray at the temples, and his ten fingers were charred black.
The scholar and Weiwu Marquis were confused by this scene.
However, the surrounding commoners instantly felt the same way.
Because they saw themselves through the charcoal seller.
Wasn't this the case for the toiling masses?
They worked hard, facing the yellow soil and back to the sky, using labor in exchange for survival.
Marquis Weiwu didn't have such empathy because he had been a marquis for generations and had been rich.
Most scholars didn't have such empathy. In this era, studying wasn't an easy thing. Poor people might not have the money or the means to study.
Those who could study were basically from good families.
Since he was young, he did not have to worry about his livelihood.
They only needed to do one thing well, and that was to study.
Therefore, their understanding of the people at the bottom of the society came from books and was separated from their actual understanding.
Only a few Humble Class scholars were touched when they saw the evolution of the literary aura.
The poem continued.
Where did the money from selling charcoal go? the clothes on his body, the food in his mouth.
Poor body clothes are thin, heart worry charcoal cheap hope cold weather.
Ye Ning slowly read.
His literary spirit surged, and the image of the charcoal seller changed. He wore thin clothes and looked at the empty rice jar at home and his bedridden wife. His brows were full of worry.
At night, a foot of snow fell outside the city. At dawn, I drove a charcoal cart to roll the ice ruts.
The cattle were tired and the people were hungry. The day was already high, and they rested in the mud outside the south gate of the market.
At night, a foot of snow fell outside the city. In the morning, the old man drove the charcoal cart to the market, grinding the frozen wheel marks. The cows were tired and the people were hungry, but the sun had risen very high. They rested in the mud outside the south gate of the market.
The poets of this world mostly used their literary style to express the magnificence of mountains and rivers, the triumphant return of soldiers, and the enchanting beauty of beautiful women.
However, there were very few people who used literary grace to express the lives of the people at the bottom.
So much so that when people saw the image of the charcoal seller, they actually felt that it was unreal.
"Is the life of the people at the bottom so hard?”
Many people even had their horizons broadened.
However, Weiwu Hou still had an angry look on his face. This lousy poem didn't move him at all.
Did the life and death of these low-level ants have anything to do with him?
The common people were like ants, so why would the superior care about the lives of ants?
Then, he quickly realized that he was wrong. It was indeed related to him.
Because Ye Ning read it again.
"Who are the two riders? Mighty Marquis Manor's Bai Shi-er."
"With a document in hand, I say the imperial order. I turn back to the carriage and shout at the ox to lead it north.”
The literary aura surged again.
The next moment, the scene changed.
He saw Li San walking over with a contemptuous smile on his face. He led a group of people and waved his hand, dragging the cow and the charcoal away.
The entire process was very short.
For a short while, it seemed like this was really a trivial matter.
"Stop reading!"
Then, Marquis Weiwu's expression changed drastically.
He could not empathize with the charcoal seller, but he knew the great harm this poem brought!
Poetry was the easiest thing to spread.
A good poem would be passed down through the ages along with the background story described in the poem.
Originally, he didn't think that Ye Ning's poem would have that kind of charm.
However, he changed his mind after hearing the last part.
Because he saw the reaction of the crowd.
The commoners seemed to have been immobilized as they froze on the spot. Then, tears flowed down.
They saw the fate of the charcoal seller and thought of themselves.
Yeah, isn't that how our lives are?
He had to bear the heavy taxes while working hard.
However, when harvesting the fruits of labor, one had to be careful because it was very likely that something like the charcoal seller would happen.
They were used to being bullied, but that didn't mean that they wouldn't be angry or sad.
They were humans too.
Wasn't the tragic fate of the charcoal seller reflected on themselves?
"A cart of charcoal, over a thousand catties, the steward cannot be stingy.”
The cart of charcoal weighed more than a thousand catties, and the steward insisted on driving it away. The old man was extremely reluctant to part with it, but there was nothing he could do.
She could only sit on the ground dejectedly. Her black fingers covered her face, and tears flowed through the gaps between her fingers.
He didn't know how to get through this harsh winter.
He did not know how to explain to his wife who was lying on the hospital bed.
Seeing this scene, the cries of the commoners suddenly became louder.
Her cries shook the sky.
This was not the experience of the charcoal seller, but their own.
Their past, present, and future could all experience such things.
How could he not empathize?
Ye Ning's poem was not about anything else, but about the toiling masses.
But in fact, this poem was missing the last line.
The last sentence is: Half a piece of red gauze ten feet silk, tied to the cow's head to fill the charcoal straight.
The person who pulled the charcoal left behind half a red muslin to hang on the bull's head as a reward.
Ye Ning did not add this sentence.
Because Li San didn't give any reward at all, he took the ox cart along with the charcoal.
It could be said that he had gone overboard.
That was why the charcoal seller was so desperate, even risking his life to find the Overwatch Council.
"Good poem!"
Cai Xianggao was the first to praise him.
He cupped his hands and bowed to Ye Ning.
"What a good song, Charcoal Selling Old Man. Your talent has started the trend of our Great Zhou's poetry!”
No one had ever used such a simple and direct way to describe the situation of a commoner at the bottom.
In Cai Xianggao's opinion, the appearance of this poem was earth-shattering.
"Congratulations, Milord, for starting the trend of poetry!”
The scholars bowed.
Their emotions were complicated.
Because most of them didn't know what kind of life the common people lived.
Now that he had seen it through Ye Ning, he had mixed feelings.
It turned out that the lives of the commoners were actually so miserable.
"Ye Ning, you deserve to die!"
The other people's emotions and thoughts were exchanged for Marquis Weiwu's unprecedented anger.
He hated it!
When this poem came out, he was completely ruined.
As mentioned earlier, a good poem had endless charm. As time passed, not only would it not lose its luster, but it would instead become more dazzling.
Was the charcoal seller a good poem?
Of course not.
However, flowery poems were for scholars to read, while charcoal sellers were for the toiling people.
The words used were simple and plain. When ordinary people heard it, they could empathize with it.
This poem would definitely spread among the people.
A fragrance that will last through the ages.
A story of ten thousand years!
In every story that has been passed down through the ages, there would always be a villain.
Without a doubt, this person was him, Weiwu Hou!
He wasn't afraid of others cursing him.
But that didn't mean that he wanted to go down in history.
Being scolded for a while and being cursed for ten thousand years were two completely different things.
However, Ye Ning's poem had nailed him firmly to the pillar of shame.
The pen of a scholar was sharper than a knife!
Marquis Weiwu was furious. He stared at Ye Ning with bloodlust.
"You deserve to die!"
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