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Noon.

Kyoto, Qinzheng Building.

The emperor invited all officials to banquet.

At the banquet, everyone was cheering and drinking in the sound of silk and bamboo orchestras, and court officials kept saluting Zhao Wujiang to the wine in the cup.

Zhao Wujiang responded one by one.

The empress did not say much, and looked at the rare harmony of the ministers, and felt a little moved.

After three rounds of wine, many ministers were drunk and came to Zhao Wujiang with their vigor. They called him brothers and praised him for his talent and asked him to write a poem.

When he heard that Zhao Wujiang was about to write a poem, many ministers put down their wine glasses and ate.

No matter what their impression of Zhao Wujiang or whether they are good or evil about Zhao Wujiang, what they generally recognize is Zhao Wujiang's undeniable talent.

Zhao Wujiang's jade crown shook slightly. He stood up and felt something was not smooth. He simply pulled off the jade crown and placed it on the table with a clang.

He raised his wine glass to look around everyone, thought for a moment, and then chanted slowly:

"The people below are easy to abuse, but God is difficult to deceive. The tuition is a merit, the military and the country are a asset. The titles and rewards of the emperor will not exceed the time limit. Your salary is your salary and the people's wealth."

The ministers were silent, and many people were immediately awakened by the poems.

Zhao Wujiang's poem comes from, but he not only praised the emperor and warned all officials to be diligent in their work and love the people.

However, this poem made many ministers feel a little embarrassed. The people are easily abused, but God cannot be deceived. However, their actions over the years have somewhat violated their original intention of becoming officials.

Unintentionally, sighs gradually arose, and many people gave a cup of pain.

Zhao Wujiang sat directly on the table, spreading his hair, and was filled with alcohol, as if he was depressed and bold.

"Mr. Zhao, let's have another song!" Liu Zhe said with a smile.

He likes Zhao Wujiang's poems very much, and he likes Zhao Wujiang's personality when writing poems, and does not deliberately cater to the atmosphere, such as this poem that just now exhorts the country and loves the people.

Zhao Wujiang raised his eyebrows and raised his glass:

"I wonder what Lord Liu wants to listen to?"

"I wonder what Lord Zhao will do?" Liu Zhe replied with a cup.

Zhao Wujiang shook his head and smiled, bold and domineering:

"I will do whatever you want to hear."

The ministers were noisy, but no one would think that Zhao Wujiang was arrogant, because Zhao Wujiang had already used his strength to tell everyone more than once what talent is and what it means to be a sequel.

Liu Zhe smiled slightly, shook his head, and sighed:

"In recent years, I have often lamented that the scenes of following the Emperor's command in person to fight for the battlefield for Daxia are not something you can do when you are young."

"Young people only have heroic spirit, but it is really hard to understand the meaning of swords and iron horses on the battlefield. If you are not a person who has been on the battlefield, you can only express the essence..."

Dugu Yihe smiled and raised his glass with Liu Zhe to drink. He was not attacking Zhao Wujiang, but expounding a fact, and he knew that Zhao Wujiang would not mind.

The ministers were stunned and couldn't help but smile and said, Zhao Wujiang suffered a loss after all.

Zhao Wujiang shook his shoulders and filled his body with alcohol. He walked swaying into the middle of the hall, tilted his head and drank the wine in the pot. The wine fell into his mouth and filled his heart.

"Bang!" He threw off the wine pot, disheveled his hair, and breathed out:

"When you are drunk, you can look at the sword with a lamp, and dream of blowing the horns and camps. You can split your troops under your command for 800 miles, and you can turn the sound of the 50 strings. You can shoot soldiers on the battlefield in autumn!"

As soon as he spoke out the poem, Liu Zhe looked at Zhao Wujiang in disbelief, and his old eyes finally trembled and frightened.

Dugu Yihe couldn't believe it and looked at Zhao Wujiang. Although this sentence was about a dream, it fully wrote the bold and generous feeling of wanting to go to the battlefield to serve the country.

The ministers were even silent and stared at the heroic young man.

"The horse made Lu Feiqiu, his bow is as fast as a thunderbolt, and he will do everything in the king and win the reputation of his life..." Zhao Wujiang raised his hand and pointed at Liu Zhe and Dugu Yihe, but no one felt that he was disrespectful, but his heart was stirred.

He sighed, as if he was feeling sad and regretful, his voice drooping:

"Pity white happened..."

Liu Zhe couldn't help but chuckled, a bitter smile.
Chapter completed!