The line was so neatly arranged that without counting the votes, the eight judges and teachers had already seen that in this competition, Li Zhaoxian must have won.

Obviously, all the judges gave the same results. The older generation of authors also felt that Li Mengyang was the best. Li Zhaoxian's writing was not up to standard, and even the authors themselves had no objection. How could the guests listen to Li Zhaoxian when they voted?

Several judges were in a dream, and couldn't help standing up and sticking to the screen to take a closer look, muttering to themselves: "How can this be?"

How could it be otherwise.

How many animation masterpieces are being reproduced, and how many movies and TV series sequels will lose a large number of audiences if they change their leading roles. The same is true for novels-A Dream of Red Mansions published more than a dozen sequels in the Qing Dynasty and the Republic of China. In modern times, there are still people writing sequels. In the end, is not only one Gao E recognized by the masses?

Everyone has watched Jin Yiwei for more than ten years and has long been accustomed to the style of Taige. Although the writing styles of these new authors are good, they are not so good as to crush their predecessors. Why should readers give up their familiar and favorite styles? , To accept the new version?

If there is no option for Li Zhaoxian to continue the style of the previous generation, readers will also choose a new author they like, and accept the stuff like a brand new comic. But since there is Li Zhaoxian, others are destined to be inferior to him.

Cui Xie looked at the blurry line behind the paper screen, sighed lightly, and ordered the servants of Shili: "Find a literate man, take a pen and paper to the outside and ask the guests why they voted for this. Write more carefully and write down the guest's For the identity, look at how many years the comics have been, and what do you think about the articles of these authors? Why did you choose this one by Zhaoxian..."

Cui Jiaxia, as well as the folks from several shops, wrote all the way from daily plans, monthly plans, and annual plans. From time to time, he would go out to do market research. After writing this kind of stuff, he wrote about his experience, and he responded neatly. , And asked him whether he would give the guests a small gift.

Cui Xie casually said: "If you don't say it, forget it. Everyone who wants to say it will send a piece of Jinyiwei drawing note. If there is a particularly detailed and informative note, ask them if they want to leave a name-tell them that we may in the future Select some of these messages and organize them into a book, which will be included with the book when "Screw on the Wind" is on the market."

After the outsiders left, the authors couldn't help but rushed up and asked: "How come it is Bo Zheng! The seniors have chosen Xianji! I have never heard what those guests say..."

Li Zhaoxian felt that he shouldn't. He rushed to the screen, and through a thin layer of white paper, he also saw the huge and bloated long line that took up almost the entire venue. And there are only a few people, at most dozens of people, in front of the boxes that cast others, and they can be counted at a glance.

In the face of this huge difference, words are already weak.

Seeing that they were so excited that they were about to rush out of the screen, Cui Xie hurriedly raised his hand to hold the people, and said flatly: "It's not early, everyone should go to rest first. If there is anything to do, we will investigate tomorrow... Tomorrow, after seeing the reasons given by the guests, we will meet the study."

It’s easier for the authors not to look at them, but the judges are okay. Eight teachers surrounded the six authors. After they stepped down, they called two people who watched the garden to help, and the locals took people from the back door to the authors to rest. In the small courtyard.

There are so many rooms here, and everyone is settled together regardless of the author and the judges. Only the owner, Cui Xie, couldn't rest yet, and when he said he was going to "patrol the venue," he walked out again.

Everyone still needs to persuade him that there are many outsiders. He is a weak scholar who can't go around. But Wang Shouren took the initiative to stop the crowd and explained for him: "Brother He Zhong has hosted such a conference more than once. He must have experience. There are also studies everywhere. People, we don’t have to worry about him. On the contrary, he is the master. How can he rest at ease if he doesn’t send all the guests away?"

He thought that Choi Xie was going to take care of himself and Li Zhaoxian's father and his father's colleagues, and took care of everyone for him, but he didn't know that he was looking for a teacher, but an object.

Li Dao and their predecessor authors are watching the long dragon voting and expressing their youth. Cui Xie stepped forward and asked a few words. Hearing what they meant was to see the end, he had to ask the buddies to send thick clothes and hot esophagus to the teachers, and send them back when they finished reading.

He went to each courtyard to see if there were any fire safety hazards. He turned around and touched the water pavilion where he first dated with Xie Ying, and saw the people still waiting for him in the pavilion.

There were no lights in the pavilion this time, only a row of lights coming in from the outside of the lake to prevent tourists from losing their feet.

Xie Ying took his hand and carefully led him into the water pavilion. Several charcoal braziers were lit on the front of the room, and the dark red charcoal block was half buried in the ashes, and the outline of things could be seen in the dim light. Xie Ying grabbed the iron chop into the ashes, turned out the simmering sugar sweet potato, opened it with a towel, and gave Cui Xie a piece first.

The sweet and hot aroma diffused in the room, dispelling the chill by the water.

Cui Xie ate half a sweet potato with his hand. He felt warm in his belly and improved a lot. He leaned on his shoulder and sighed, "I'm still comfortable by your side. I was exhausted when I commented above. , I have to comment on the article word by word, and I have to suffocate different words. I finally finished the review and scored, but the vote went wrong again..."

She said and lay down in Xie Ying's arms.

Xie Ying threw down the sweet potato in her hand, wiped the ash and sugar juice from her fingertips with a handkerchief, circled his shoulder and asked: "What's the problem? When I came out, I saw the line neatly lined up. The people who stabbed a large yard did not see any competition, they were even more lined up than in the barracks."

Cui Xie chuckles and said: "It's neat, neatly voted for Junior Brother Li, other talented scholars have suffered a lot. They will have a meeting tomorrow."

Xie Ying often held meetings with the Cui family. Every time after the meeting, the people who were opened were frowning. I have never seen a meeting that can help people.

He only thought of those talented men with sad faces and thick plans, he couldn't help laughing out loud, shaking his head and saying, "I'm afraid that after the meeting tomorrow, they will feel more painful than today. More."

Cultural people are always a little sensitive.

Cui Xie said dismissively: "This is all for a while, and I won’t care about it when I get busy in the future. I heard the teacher say that since the imperial court allowed the use of sweet potatoes as variegated food to pay taxes last year, the taxation was overcharged. Nearly 2 million shi, and the amount of rice that was exempted from the disaster was more than 960,000 shi less than last year. Now the rice in Beijing is about one or two silver and one stone. The treasury is abundant, and the court has food and soldiers. I’m afraid it’s going to be discussed."

Xie Ying was startled, reaching out her hand to stroke his face, her eyes flashed with complicated brilliance, but she didn't speak.

Cui Xie closed his eyes, turned his head and said in a low voice: "At this time, the court is unanimously trying to reconcile, and you have to start from Xiubian City and slowly advance northward. When the soldiers are really used, you will write a letter and be transferred to the side army. Right?"

"I just said that the author is troubled, you want to solve them, I think I want to solve you now." Xie Ying lowered his head, lightly pecked his cool eyelids, nose, and lips, and assured him in his ear: " I took the post of Jinyi Guardian. I have been a Jinyi Guardian for so many years. Where can I easily be transferred to the frontier army? This matter is not what we think about. It is only true if the saint decides."

His voice gradually sank, but when it sounded again, it was as low as to be swallowed by the sound of water outside the pavilion: "I'm going, I'll always tell you first."

Cui Xie let out a slow and deep "um".

It was almost noon the next day that Cui Xie brought a pile of collated research materials to meet the group of impatient authors. The judges also want to know what the tourists wrote, and they are still waiting in that small building.

Cui Xie put the classified survey form up, and asked someone to carry a whiteboard, mark with a thick pencil, and divide the survey subjects into "literati", "gentry", "warriors", "rich people", and "city" according to their family background. Several categories of "people".

Literati, especially those who understand poetry and appreciative power like their authors; gentry are the children of squires, officials and eunuchs, who have read some books and know how to appreciate the beauty of words and chapters.

For these two types of more critical readers, the other five talented people voted the most, and most of the remaining people went straight to Li Zhaoxian, and didn't care about others.

He listed the figures counted by the treasurer yesterday in a table, and comforted everyone: "We must look at the opinions of the guests in a comprehensive way, not just the vote. Because this time everyone can only cast one vote. Many It's not that people don't like you, it's because the number of votes is limited. When they talked to the guys afterwards, they also said that there are other people who want to vote..."

If you don't count Li Zhaoxian, you can only calculate according to what the guests say afterwards. Many of the five talented people voted. Li Mengyang had the highest number of votes, followed by Tang Bohu, and the remaining three were no less than them.

In their research, they firmly stated that Li Zhaoxian was good but not many.

The authors looked at the table he had listed, and became more puzzled and could only guess: "Are these just polite words? They all listened to the reviewers commenting on the benefits of these articles, but they liked Bo Zheng's in their hearts, for the sake of other authors' face. , A few words of praise afterwards?"

These talented scholars from Wuzhong, Guan Long, and Shandong are all going to lose their confidence in reality.

Cui Xie shook his head and distributed the questionnaire to everyone: "It's not that you wrote badly, but that you didn't write the Jinyiwei in their hearts. Readers are used to the old version, so they don't want to change the author. They have to change it, and they would rather have one. Most like before."

Li Mengyang suddenly remembered that when Cui Xie asked them to write the manuscript, he had to imitate the style of the previous work at the beginning, and he had foreseen what was happening today. He flushed and asked, "If we only need the old style, why do we need to write? Just look for a few ordinary scholars, can't you just write in the style of Taige and Chaling?"

Can ordinary scholars write articles comparable to Li Dongyang, Yang Tinghe, and Xie Qian? Even he himself dared not compare to these people, otherwise he would focus on the former seven and the four great talents in the south of the Yangtze River.

Cui Xie angrily educates them: "Are you writing articles just to show off your talent? Articles are a means of changing customs and educating the people. Can they be written by people who don't know the basics at will!"

He looked directly at Li Mengyang and asked: "Xianji is the head of the household, but I don’t know how many people have been enriched by the method of mixing grains and beans, **** earthworms as fertilizer, and light to make chickens lay more eggs. How much more tax grains and colored silver have been collected in the past two years than before?"

Li Mengyang wanted to say that Jin Yiwei and Agricultural Economics were not the same thing, but he couldn't speak under Cui Xie's stern eyes. Then suddenly I remembered that in his youth, Jin Yiwei seemed to be synonymous with cruelty and terror just like the guard eunuch.

But now Jin Yiwei has become a hero sought after by the people. Even the people who wrote Jin Yiwei's story were dazzled a lot. Looking at the comments of these visitors, even the few authors who were not selected were very fair and praised.

This short three-hundred-character essay, which did not even fully reflect his level, received more praise than his carefully crafted poems. Just because this article is about the story of Jin Yiwei, and because his predecessors have spent more than ten years operating the name of the Jin Yiwei comic book to the world...

Others painted this to change the customs and educate the people, but he was to promote his literary name... Cui Xie's harsh criticism poured on him like cold water, and he was hit by that vote since yesterday. His pride washed away.

He is aggressive, and wants to change the current weak writing style, isn't it just to revitalize the current situation?

Now there is a way that allows him to use comic strips to allude to current affairs and Shin Zhiguo's political ambitions. Why should he give up for the sake of face?

Li Mengyang struggled for a long time, and finally lowered his head: "I am willing to write this article in the old style."

well.

Cui Xie stood at the table and smiled lovingly: "You wise brothers are not in the Hanlin, they are in the Lang Office. They are the future pillars of the imperial court. An Neng only regards himself as a literary talent? Liyan is the Three Immortals, and the articles that you have written are now enough to spread to future generations, and you can now concentrate on'serving merit'."

The hearts of the few talents who were severely hit by the defeat were also called "Li Gong". Seeing the enthusiastic praise of the officials and the people in their hands, they didn't say anything else, and silently agreed to the identity of the author of "The Wind and Clouds".

Only Li Zhaoxian sighed for a while: "The authors in front are really different from vulgarity, I really want to know their identities."

Cui Xie comforted him: "If you write well, you can make seniors look blue, in the future or one day, he is willing to tell you his identity."

The eyes of Li Zhaoxian, several other authors and even the reviewer were bright, but Wang Shouren turned his face to look at the whiteboard and sighed silently.

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