The opening sign to a mother-in-law of the richest man

Fan Wenliang didn't directly answer Su Yunzi's words. He stood up excitedly and looked at Chen Feng with awe-inspiring gazes like a god Xiafan.

God!

It's so amazing!

These poems comparable to those of the poet Li Bai were read from Chen Feng's mouth one after another, without a single sentence being repeated.

His calm expression and smooth speech speed are like reciting--

No, it's like reading a book of "Three Hundred Tang Poems" page by page.

If such a genius is not explained by the reincarnation of a poetry fairy, ordinary people can never do it!

Snapped!

An empty glass shattered in front of Wang Zheng.

Wang Zheng was shocked.

Chen Feng wiped the corner of his mouth, stood condescendingly on the stage, looked at Wang Zheng, and asked with a smile, "Is it enough?"

Wang Zheng was so scared that he didn't dare to speak at all, and silently swallowed his saliva.

"Not enough, right?"

The corner of Chen Feng's mouth was hooked diagonally, and he simply lay down directly on the stage, facing the crowd sideways, supporting the back of his head with one hand, and one leg half bent.

"If it is not enough, I will continue!"

Half closing his eyes, Chen Feng said aloud in a lazy and powerful voice:

"I have no intention of struggling to fight for spring, for a time when the group is jealous, scattered into mud and crushed into dust, only the fragrance is as usual..."

"Drunk, I picked up the lamp to watch the sword, dreamed back to blow the horns and even camped, burning under the command of eight hundred miles, and the sound of fifty strings turning over the plug..."

"Ten years of life and death are boundless, without thinking, unforgettable, a lonely grave for thousands of miles, nowhere to say sadness..."

"The scenery is different in autumn, Hengyang geese go without paying attention, sound from all sides, Qianzhangli, long smoke and sunset, the isolated city is closed..."

"..."

Chen Feng read, while staring at Wang Zheng.

He watched Wang Zheng's face turn into a palette of rich colors when he was reading poems.

Chen Feng has a good mind than reading poetry.

Don't talk about a hundred songs, even if there are a thousand more songs, he will be fine.

"A glass of wine with a new song..."

"Okay, enough, stop reading!"

Wang Zheng shouted out loud.

The chair was overturned by him, and he stood up trembling, his emotions on the verge of collapse.

"Wang Zheng, what's wrong?"

"I don't know, why do you shout so loudly?"

"The poetry god wrote so many poems at once, which shows that the literary talent is brilliant, and Wang Zheng is undoubtedly copying his works."

"It's no wonder that when the poetry god came in, Wang Zheng had such great malice towards him. It turned out to be jealous of the poetry god's literary talent."

Hearing the discussion of the people nearby, Wang Zheng's expression looked as though he had seen a ghost in fear.

thump!

He knelt down in front of Chen Feng and cried, "The God of Poetry, I was wrong. I admit that I did not write that poem by myself. I copied your work. My fault is my fault. !"

Wang Zhengyi admitted that the audience was in an uproar.

"It's really plagiarism."

"I'm old enough to do such a shameless thing."

"Such people do not deserve to stay in our Writers Association!"

"I almost misunderstood the poetry god."

Chen Feng faintly curled his lips.

Seeing that Chen Feng didn't speak, Wang Zheng knew that he must have not let him go so easily.

He turned around, looked at Fan Wenliang, and confessed: "Old Fan, I'm sorry, I shouldn't plagiarize the god of poetry in order to win everyone's attention, I really know I was wrong!"

Fan Wenliang had long expected that Wang Zheng would have this scene.

He sternly snorted: "Wang Zheng, the person you want to apologize to is not me. It's useless to tell me this. You have to see if Xiaofeng is willing to forgive you, and you have to see if everyone here is willing forgive you!"

"Plagiarism is a big shame, I don't forgive."

"It doesn't matter what I copied anyway, it doesn't matter."

"I also often copy other people's. If Lao Fan knew about this, I wouldn't be cold, right?"

"It depends mainly on what Shi Shen said."

"Wang Zheng is so old that there is a farce like today, even if Mr. Fan wants to keep him, he is afraid that he will have no face to continue to mess with the Writers Association."

Wang Zheng listened to the discussion of the people nearby and looked at Chen Feng: "The god of poetry, I am jealous of your talent. I want to use your poems to make a name for the writers' association. I now know that I was wrong. As long as you are willing to forgive me, I Voluntarily withdraw from the Writers Association!"

Chen Feng slowly opened his eyes, smiled and asked, "That's it?"

Wang Zheng "cocked" in his heart.

From Chen Feng's smile, you can see that this matter has not been solved so easily.

He asked tentatively: "The Poetry God, what do you want me to do?"

Chen Feng sat up and said, "No more articles or contributions are allowed in the future."

"This..." Wang Zheng's tears were about to fall.

He is now over half a hundred years old and has been making money from writing articles for decades, and manuscript fees are his only source of income.

Instead, he was not allowed to write articles more than ten or twenty years ago, and he could still do physical work.

But now, because of his writing all the year round, his body has become ill. If he cut off the manuscript fee, he has cut off all his financial resources.

"Shi Shen, you can ask me to do anything, but can you please stop me from writing articles?"

Wang Zheng cried and crawled to Chen Feng’s feet and threw himself down and begged for mercy: “The manuscript fee is my entire source of income. I have to rely on it to support my family. My wife was diagnosed with cancer last year and my son is still in high school. And my dad, who just broke his leg last month and was still in the hospital. My mom has suffered a stroke all the year round and needs a lot of medical expenses..."

Just as Wang Zheng cried about the miserable sale, an angry voice sounded.

"Wang Zheng, you don’t pretend less. Over the years, you have plagiarized other people’s articles. I have always regarded you as a friend. I asked you to read articles for me. As a result, you took my work for submission the next day. It's not once or twice!"

"Yes, you also took the articles I wrote to contribute, it was all my hard work!"

"So many of you here have been deceived by you, Wang Zheng, is your conscience really safe?"

More and more voices began to accuse Wang Zheng.

In the face of facts, Wang Zheng couldn't say a word in shame.

Facing the crowd, he fell on his knees, bowed his head and confessed: "I'm sorry, I admit, it was my fault, I'm sorry for all of you, I will get out of the Writers Association, and I won't write any more articles in the future."

"Is it all right with an apology?"

"Then I slap you a few times and say sorry to you too!"

"Forget it, it's all over anyway, I think what he said is quite miserable, it's retribution."

"If it weren't for him, the provincial award that year would have been mine, he lied to my work!"

Many people were filled with righteous indignation, and the atmosphere in the box was extremely intense.

Fan Wenliang walked to the stage and said loudly: "Okay, it's all quiet!"

He looked at Wang Zheng and said coldly: "As a literary worker, the most shameful thing is to plagiarize other people’s works. Wang Zheng, you are not ashamed, but you still don’t repent and make mistakes again and again. Starting today, you No longer a member of our Writers Association!"

Fan Wenliang looked at everyone present: "As for all of you, you must learn from today’s events and oppose plagiarism. Those who have been deceived should not be angry. Keep the green hills, not afraid of no firewood, as long as it is gold. It will always shine!"