The great eunuch Zhao Gaogao did not dare to hesitate at all, he immediately stepped forward to change Tang Yu's drink.

Gurgling!

In public, Tang Yu drank a lot of wine. He stared at the poet Meng Xianzhi and said unruly: "What did you just say? I stole these poems? Now I have composed three more. Do you accept it?"

"I'm not convinced!" Meng Xianzhi looked at each other with eyes that were about to burst.

"Not convinced? OK! OK, OK!"

Tang Yu has five thousand years of Chinese history in his body, and he doesn't believe that he can't deal with Meng Xianzhi, a person who deceives the world and steals his reputation today.

Holding the flask, Tang Yu kept drinking. His face turned red, and one poem after another poured out of Tang Yu's mouth:

"In the midst of the colorful clouds of the White Emperor, a thousand miles are returned in one day. The apes on both sides of the bank can't stop crying, and the boat has passed the Ten Thousand Mountains!"

"You don't wake up when you sleep in spring, you can hear the singing of birds everywhere. The sound of wind and rain comes at night, and you know how many flowers have fallen!"

"The sun sets over the mountains, and the Yellow River flows into the sea. If you want to see a thousand miles away, go to the next level!"

Immediately afterwards, three more poems came out of Tang Yu's mouth, and the Da Chu delegation headed by Chu Ningyu was completely confused.

That’s right! They were all confused!

Even Meng Xianzhi, who was dissatisfied, opened her mouth in shock, like a hippopotamus, which could fit a big watermelon into it.

However, Tang Yu had no intention of stopping. He continued to speak:

"If you don't see it, the water of the Yellow River comes up from the sky and rushes to the sea never to return."

"Red beans grow in the south. When spring comes, a few branches will bloom. I hope you will pick more of them. This is the most loved thing."

"Birds in thousands of mountains have disappeared, and all traces of people have been wiped out."

In the Jinluan Palace, Tang Yu sang a poem with a sip of wine, which directly shocked everyone.

Emperor Tang's eyes were shining brightly, and he immediately shouted: "Come here, come quickly, come here, and copy all the poems written by the prince for me!"

"The moon is setting, crows are crying, the sky is full of frost, Jiang Feng is fishing and fire is facing melancholy"

"There is bright moonlight in front of the bed, I suspect it is frost on the ground."

After a sip of fine wine and a poem, I don’t know how long it took, but a dozen exquisite wine bottles were scattered on the ground, and everyone was already shocked and confused.

After drinking more than a dozen bottles of fine wine, Tang Yu was swaying in the Jinluan Palace, covered in alcohol and looking very arrogant.

The great eunuch Zhao Gao said with excitement: "Three hundred poems, Your Majesty, His Royal Highness has composed a total of three hundred poems!"

"What? Three hundred poems?"

As soon as these words came out, countless people in the Jinluan Palace couldn't help but take a breath of cold air and look shocked.

"Open your mouth and recite three hundred poems? How is this possible?"

At this moment, not only the third prince Tang Shuheng and others, but also everyone in the Da Chu envoy were shocked.

Especially for the poet Meng Xianzhi, his inner collapse was like the Yellow River bursting its banks.

At this moment, he finally understood why Tang Yu just said that he opened his mouth to reveal the true meaning of the entire prosperous Tang Dynasty.

As a poet, he can responsibly say that every poem written by Tang Yu is a masterpiece handed down from generation to generation. Three hundred poems directly pushed the Tang Dynasty, which had the worst literary style among the Seven Kingdoms, to its peak.

Reciting three hundred poems in one breath, Tang Yu looked at Meng Xianzhi frantically: "Although you are known as the immortal poet in this world, can you recite three hundred poems in one breath? Are you convinced? I want to ask, are you convinced?"

"you you"

Being targeted by Tang Yu again, Meng Xianzhi's chest kept rising and falling with anger.

Even if he is a poet and has written thousands of poems, only a few dozen can truly become masterpieces handed down from generation to generation. How can he be compared with Tang Yu.

Staring at the stuttering Meng Xianzhi, Tang Yu snorted coldly: "What? Are you speechless? Aren't you a poetry immortal? Didn't you say that my poems were stolen from you? Why didn't you say anything about me?

Are these three hundred poems stolen?"

""Man Jiang Hong" and "Broken Array" were both clearly written by me, but you said they were written by you. What a pretext for fame! Now that I have recited three hundred poems, your lies will be self-defeating!"

"Looking at your age, you must be at least eighty, right? Your old bones are almost buried in the earth. How dare you pretend to be a poet in order to gain fame and reputation? I have never seen such a shameless person like you!"

"you"

puff--
Chapter completed!