Villain: I Will Become Stronger By Accepting A Female Apprentice

"Steward Wang, Miss Wang, I will visit you another day to apologize. My young master is not in a good condition right now, so I won't disturb everyone's interest."

Hearing this, Butler Wang just glared angrily and said nothing more. The literati competition has already begun and no more time can be wasted.

Immediately afterwards, the old slave took the fat pig away from the rich family, which finally ended the farce.

The fat pig rich kid didn't resist anymore, he looked completely lost, as if he was stupid.

After ending this sudden farce, Butler Wang immediately dissipated the anger on his face, came close to Wang Qinghan's side, and respectfully took the farce on himself, claiming that it was his dereliction of duty.

Wang Qinghan didn't blame him.

Wang Qinghan looked in one direction, which was not far in front of the fat pig kid just now.

It is also the seat where Lang Zimiu is sitting.

Her eyes fell on Lang Zimiu, and an imperceptible strange color flashed across her eyes.

Lang Zimiu also looked at her, slightly curling his lips at her, revealing a handsome smile.

Immediately after Butler Wang left, the literary competition officially began. The scene suddenly became quiet, and no one continued to make noises and whispers.

It was also the first time for Wang Qinghan to host a literary competition. She looked at the seating area divided into two sides below, but her expression did not change.

Her jade lips parted slightly, and she said dignifiedly and elegantly:

"Everyone, some minor accidents happened, don't worry about it."

"I'm very happy that you can come to participate in this annual literati competition. I believe you are qualified to participate in the literati competition. You are all talented people..."

Wang Qinghan spoke dignifiedly and elegantly, in short, it was just some opening words.

But with her conversation, everyone participating in this literati competition became excited, and their eyes were full of passion.

They all had the ambition to win the first place in their hearts. Even the rich kids who came to watch the excitement had a strong desire to win, wondering if they could win this great title through this literary contest. Miss Favor.

This eldest lady is truly extremely beautiful, and her elegant and dignified temperament seems to be innate and coveted.

Lang Zimiu didn't feel anything after hearing this. He turned to look at the unyielding ordinary man, and saw that his face was full of excitement at this moment, his eyes were full of passion, and he seemed to be very confident in this literati competition.

Lang Zimiu narrowed his eyes slightly, with a cunning look flashing in his eyes.

Then he raised the corners of his lips slightly and looked back.

At the same time, Wang Qinghan on the stage also picked up the sealed envelope on the table. After opening it, he opened the leather paper inside and read it with his eyes, a flash of expectation flashing in his eyes.

He quickly picked up the paper and looked at the people in the audience again. A simple and elegant smile appeared on the corner of his lips, and he said in a clear voice:

"I will also conduct this competition together with you. Before this, I didn't know how to compete."

Hearing this, everyone in the audience suddenly became more excited.

This is the first time that the host and contestants participate together.

She is worthy of being a talented woman of the Wang family.

So, what is the format of this competition?

Everyone is looking forward to it. There have been various methods in the past years. No one knows what it is, so they have made full preparations. At the same time, they all pray in their hearts that they are best at it.

Wang Qinghan did not keep everyone waiting for too long, and continued:

"Reservation, the format of this competition is poetry, the subject is the moon, and the format is not limited."

"The writing time is one hour, which is the end of Si Shi."

"I hope you can give your best and use the paper, ink, pen and inkstone on the table to compose the splendor of this world. Tonight belongs to you."

"It's time to start."

Hearing this, among the people below, some were surprised, while others showed uncomfortable expressions.

Poetry?

The last time the competition was about poetry, it seems to have been six years ago.

Lang Zimiu's eyes flashed with luster when he heard this competition method.

oh?

Is it poetry?

It's interesting. Although I don't have the literary talent to write poetry, I do have a brain that remembers the wisdom of my predecessors.

And because of my cultivation, my consciousness and mental strength have been greatly improved, and my previous memories can basically appear in my mind very clearly.

Even memories that had been completely forgotten long ago can be recalled.

Month?

Too much, too much.

Just picking out a song at random is enough, right?

A proud smile appeared on Lang Zimiu's lips, feeling that he was on the right track.

Although he didn't know whether people in this world had high attainments in poetry, but based on the situation where cultivators were rampant, he didn't feel that the popularity and attainments of this poetry could be high.

Then he turned to look at the unyielding ordinary man, and saw excitement and anticipation on his face.

His expression turned into a somewhat solemn look, and it was obvious that he was not good at poetry.

Seeing this, Lang Zimiu frowned slightly. He hoped that this boy would be favored by the Wang family and enter the Wang family like him.

because.....

He needs a puppet, or a helper.

"Master, can you do it?"

Lian Qingqiu blinked her beautiful eyes and asked softly in his ear.

Lang Zimiu stretched out his hand and flicked her head. The pain was so painful that she almost screamed and held her forehead, looking aggrieved.

Forget it, let’s check it out later.

Lang Zimiu withdrew his thoughts and set his eyes on the brown wooden table in front of him.

Immediately afterwards, he began to continuously recall memories in his mind.

All the great poets, saints, poets and gods kept passing through his mind.

All kinds of classic poems came to his mind.

After thinking about it, he slowly raised his head and looked at the full moon hanging high in the sky.

The full moon was glowing with bright light, not covered by any dark clouds, and it was brilliant yellow.

Lang Zimiu couldn't help but couldn't move his eyes away, and at the same time, he couldn't help but feel an inexplicable sadness and homesickness in his heart.

Seeing his appearance, Lian Qingqiu's expression froze slightly, and she also raised her eyes to the sky, looking at the bright yellow full moon hanging high in the sky.

But he didn't have this kind of emotion like Lang Zimiu.

Like Lang Zimiu, there are many people who look up at the bright yellow full moon hanging high in the sky, and they all seem to be using this artistic conception to brew the poems in their hearts.

Wang Shihan, who was on the high platform, glanced at Lang Zimiu and was slightly startled when she saw his expression. It was as if just by looking at Lang Zimiu, she could feel his strong feelings and mood swings from his face.

After a flash of curiosity appeared in her eyes, she also raised her eyes to look at the bright yellow full moon in the sky.

............

In this way, time passed for about the time of a pot of tea.

Lang Zimiu slowly came back to his senses, and then the sadness and longing in his eyes disappeared.

Since you can't go back, then cherish the present moment.

He set up his brush, lightly dipped it in black ink, and was about to start writing.

Lian Qingqiu was about to fall asleep, because the atmosphere here was really suitable for sleeping, it was quiet, there was the gentle sound of the wind and the bright moonlight.

But seeing Lang Zimiu take action, she immediately trembled slightly and suddenly woke up. Her beautiful eyes blinked a little faster, showing curiosity and expectation.

Looking forward to what Lang Zimiu will write.

After only a pot of tea, Lang Zimiu was about to start writing. He immediately attracted the attention of some people, and they all showed some surprise and some contempt.

I felt that he was too impetuous and too blindly confident. After a pot of tea, he was about to start writing. There was only one piece of paper, and once he wrote, he couldn't change it again.

Wang Qinghan also came back to his senses, looked at Lang Zimiu, and saw that he had already started writing. Like other people who accidentally saw Lang Zimiu writing, he showed a surprised and puzzled expression.

I wonder why I started writing so quickly?

Suddenly, some of her original curiosity about Lang Zimiu disappeared at this moment. She felt that he should not be able to write any good poems, he was so dismissive and casual.

Fortunately, I just thought that he was a talented person and could enter that kind of artistic conception so quickly.

Shaking his head slightly, Wang Qinghan took back his thoughts and began to focus on the poem he was about to brew.

Lang Zimiu grasped the brush with a non-standard gesture and started writing on the paper.

Before starting, I was strictly warned that I was not allowed to peek at the poems written by others, and I was not allowed to secretly detect my spiritual consciousness. Otherwise, I would be directly expelled and permanently banned from participating in the literati competition.

Some people are curious about what Lang Zimiu will write, but they can't see it.

So he shook his head, withdrew his gaze, and focused on his own brewing.

Lian Qingqiu looked at the paper on the table eagerly and saw Lang Zimiu starting to write the first word.

"table."

Lian Qingqiu whispered softly, in a voice that only she and Lang Zimiu could hear, frowning slightly, looking forward to what kind of poem Lang Zimiu would write.

Although her impression is that Lang Zimiu has no literary talent at all, in her heart, she still hopes that Lang Zimiu can write particularly powerful poems that she admires, because she just likes that he can do anything and has endless charm. Lang Zimiu.

Of course, even if Lang Zimiu can't write, she won't think that Lang Zimiu is not good. After all, this literary talent is just a bonus in her eyes. If Lang Zimiu has it, she will be even more obsessed with him and love him. .

"The moonlight shines in front of the table."

"It's probably frost on the ground."

"Look up at the bright moon."

"Bow your head and miss your hometown."

Looking at the four lines of handwriting written by Lang Zimiu on the paper, Lian Qingqiu thought silently in her heart. Even if she didn't know much about literature, looking at these four lines of words, she immediately felt the artistic conception and charm.

Wei Wei was startled, and his expression was stagnant for a moment.

Bowing my head and thinking about my hometown......

Master, do you miss the south of Huaiyuan?

Lian Qingqiu thought about it and thought that the hometown written by Lang Zimiu refers to the south of Huaiyuan.

When she arrived, she had no worries about the south of Huaiyuan. As long as she could be by Lang Zimiu's side, she would never feel lonely.

After finishing writing, Lang Zimiu put the pen back and gently pressed the corner of the paper with an inkstone to prevent it from being blown away by the wind.

Then he exhaled softly and showed a satisfied and confident smile.

Even if he had not become an immortal cultivator, he would never forget this poem. After all, everyone knew it.

But he changed the bed into a table.

In a sense, it can also be said to be original.

Stable.

He was so confident that he leaned back and leaned on the backrest. Then he picked up Lian Qingqiu beside him, put her on his lap, stopped her waist, and started to be ambiguous.

I watched him start to finish writing, and then he directly ignored the people around him and became intimate with the beauty he brought with him.

Everyone who saw it frowned slightly, showing complex and even disgusted expressions.

Some ordinary people regarded him as a rich kid who came to have fun, and secretly showed expressions of disgust and resentment. At the same time, they became more determined to take advantage of this literary power and get rid of the shackles.

While Wang Qinghan was thinking about it, he inadvertently glanced at Lang Zimiu again. After seeing what he was doing at the moment, his beautiful eyes widened slightly, revealing a hint of sullenness.

Although Lang Zimiu didn't do anything extraordinary, he just let Lian Qingqiu sit on her lap. The ambiguous look between the two of them was still very inappropriate in such a serious occasion.

However, there is no clear rule that does not allow this. After all, these rich children all bring their own old slaves or subordinates, and no one has brought women here before. Lang Zimiu is the first person to do this.

Butler Wang, who was standing not far away, also saw the situation on Lang Zimiu's side, with a look of anger on his face.

But he didn't act rashly, but looked at Wang Qinghan with an expression asking for instructions.

Wang Qinghan met his gaze, shook his head slightly, and then sighed, indicating that he didn't need to worry about it.

It would definitely be wrong to act rashly now, but she was really unhappy.

So she decided to have some connotations about Lang Zimiu after it was over.

At the same time, it also contains the impure rich children.

...................................

In this way, time passed by minute by minute.

Some of the disciples also started writing.

Lang Zimiu looked at the unyielding ordinary man and saw that he still had a troubled and solemn expression, as if he couldn't think of a poem that could make him stand out.

Lang Zimiu also felt a little anxious for him.

This unyielding ordinary man named Ye Fan is an orphan. He was brought up by the old people in the village. He has made up his mind since he was a child to get ahead and repay the old people in the village.

Ye Fan looked at the paper and pen in front of him, his brows were slightly furrowed, his face was solemn, and he had no thoughts at all.

"no!"

"If I don't seize the opportunity this time, I don't know when I will be qualified again next time."

He gritted his teeth and felt extremely solemn in his heart.

Then he raised his eyes and looked at the full moon in the sky.

But I still couldn't feel the slightest bit of artistic conception, and there was only anxiety and anxiety in my heart.

In this way, time continued to pass, slowly, half an hour passed.

Almost half of them have already been written...