Even I know how to write verses like “a blaze of brilliant reds and purples trails the hills”!
Even as he composed eight stanzas of poems, they were all poems with simple verses. If she were to follow his style of writing, Lin Feilu felt that she could also compose three hundred stanzas poems right on the spot.
(T/N: What Lin Feilu means is that the level of Song Jinglan’s writing, ergo the acceptable standard for this exam, was as simple as writing metaphors. She was previously comparing the standard to Li Bai and Du Fu, as their poems consisted of complex imagery, condensed connotations and lyrical sense, all which are difficult to achieve for common folk, much less for children.)
Song Jinglan spread out the last paper, weighed it down with the inkstone, and looked at her with a gentle smile, “The last one.”
Lin Feilu pointed at herself with a finger.
Song Jinglan was stunned for a moment.
He heard her say in a small voice, “Me.”
His writing hand was hanging in the air, and a drop of ink dripped from the tip of the brush. But he reacted quickly, shook his head and smiled. He removed the ink-stained paper and replaced it with a new one. After laying it out, he replied to her in a warm voice, “Alright.”
This poem did not take much longer than the ones before.
Lin Feilu guessed that he probably wrote something along the lines of: “Little girl, white and fair, jumping up and down, very cute”.
After writing, she perked her head up to take a look, but Song Jinglan had already picked up the paper and placed it at the bottom of his pile of poems. Then he handed the nine papers to the imperial teacher.
All students began to turn in their papers one after another.
Lin Jingyuan and Xi Xingjiang were still at each other’s ends, pinching each other until the end of the exam, accusing each other of embarrassing one another. Xi Xingjiang seemed to feel that arguing with this little boy who was only a few years younger than himself was a little below his station. Finally, he decided to ignore him after throwing away his brush, and shouted at Lin Feilu who was not too far away, “Little Bean, do you want to go horse riding?”
Lin Jingyuan became even furious, “It’s such a cold day today, do you want to freeze my Fifth Sister to death?!”
Xi Xingjiang glanced at him a few times. Slowly, he teased, “She is not as weak as Lin Jingyuan, nor is she as stupid as the the Fourth Imperial Prince, who does not know how to write poems.”
Lin Jingyuan was so angry that he yelled and rushed forward to fight him, but Lin Qing sternly stopped him.
Suddenly it was rowdy.
Lin Feilu stood up and rubbed her knees which were sore from kneeling. Still thinking about the last poem, she asked Song Jinglan, “Your Highness, what did you write in the end?”
Song Jinglan arranged the brush and papers on his desk. He was still looking at her with a kind smile, “I’m just a little educated, so I just casually composed it, Fifth Princess does not need to bother.”
Lin Feilu pursed her lips, “This is the first time someone wrote me a poem. It is of great significance to me. Hasn’t Your Highness heard of this song?”
Song Jinglan looked at her for a long time, “Hmm?”