Brother, are you going to rebel? Have you brought the soldiers yet?

There was a long silence before the emperor's furious voice came out: "What did you say?!"

Seeing that He Yanting dared to repeat himself, Jiang Zhiyu hurried over with small steps and covered his mouth: "He didn't say anything. He just felt dizzy from reviewing memorials. His brain was not functioning properly for a while, right?"

The last two words were directed at He Yanting, full of threat.

He Yanting felt the soft touch, his eyes dimmed, his voice low and hoarse, and he said slowly: "Yes."

Seeing that he was not causing trouble, Jiang Zhiyu finally let go of his hand.

A trace of regret flashed across He Yanting's eyes, and he picked up the pen again.

He did intend to provoke the emperor.

The emperor paused, knowing that this man was just perfunctory, but the anger in his heart did not diminish in the slightest.

He instructed Fu Ping, who was almost ready to bury his head in the ground, and whispered, "Take all the memorials on my desk to him. He may feel dizzy from reviewing them, but it's just that he's not used to it. With more reviewing, he'll get used to it and stay clear-headed."

He Yanting's hand trembled, and the ink on the pen fell down, smudged the words he had just written.

The emperor used to be a king of memorials, handling official business from morning to late at night. He was ill for nearly a week, and even with Xiao Lingyu as regent, the number of memorials was still considerable.

As the memorials accumulated day by day, looking at the pile of memorials in front of him that was as high as a person, He Yanting expressed his dissatisfaction with the emperor with his eyes.

The anger turned into pride under his straightforward gaze, but only slightly.

As the old saying goes, out of sight, out of mind.

The emperor stood up and said, "Take your time. I'm not in a hurry. Just watch over everything. If he doesn't finish reviewing these today, he will not be allowed to leave the palace."

After saying that, he went into the inner room.

[What a strong sense of déjà vu.]

[It's like the teacher who won't let you go home if you can't recite the text.]

After sighing, Jiang Zhiyu looked at the stunned He Yanting with sympathy and patted his shoulder: "Why did you provoke him?"

He Yanting: “…”

That day, He Yanting left the palace only after the court session the next day.

…

Xiao Yanli could not provide the full amount of gold, so he only sent 500 taels and an IOU to Xu's house.

Song Shiwei was almost mad with rage after hearing this.

She threw everything that could be thrown in Jiang Zhaorong's mansion.

After knowing that he had clues to the treasure of the previous dynasty, Song Shiwei tried various methods, but until now, he has found nothing.

Her desire to obtain the treasures of the previous dynasty had never been so strong.

She thought as she took off her clothes and observed her body.

Doesn't Jiang Zhiyu love money? When she gets the treasure, she will use the money to smash Jiang Zhiyu to death!

The body shown in the bronze mirror was no different from usual. Song Shi put on his clothes with a slight tremor, gritted his teeth and went out.

Jiang Zhaorong was in the Taohong Room. Song Shiwei came in to pay her respects. They exchanged a few words. Song Shiwei looked at Jiang Zhaorong who was teasing her son, and two lines of tears rolled down her cheeks.

"What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Taohong picked up a handkerchief to wipe her tears, and Jiang Zhaorong looked at her in confusion.

Song Shiwei took the pink handkerchief, wiped her tears, and then said, "Seeing this family happiness reminds me of my parents, whom I have never met. Does father still remember them? Can you... tell me a little about them?"

This was the first time in Song Shiwei's life that he made this request.

Jiang Zhaorong's eyes were cold. Seeing her cautious yet hopeful expression, she said softly, "Of course I remember. Go to the study and I'll explain it to you slowly."

…

In the study, Jiang Zhaorong handed her a portrait. "This is the only thing left of your parents. Before, you were very resistant when they were mentioned. Now that you've grown up and know how to ask about it, I can give it to you."

Song Shiwei took it and opened it. The two people in the portrait looked honest and kind, and beautiful.

It's not a particularly outstanding appearance.

A hint of disgust flashed across Song Shiwei's eyes, and in an instant, his eyes turned red.

Jiang Zhaorong didn't notice the slightest bit of disdain. Seeing her like this, she sighed softly, "If it weren't for this world, you wouldn't have ended up like this, separated forever."

Song Shiwei sneered in her heart, but didn't show it on her face. She stroked the portrait and said, "What are their names?"

"Song Yong and Du Li."

The name was ordinary, so Song Shiwei asked again: "Did they give me my name?"

"Yes," Jiang Zhaorong sighed softly, "So no matter how much you made a fuss when you were little, I never agreed to you changing your name."

Song Shiwei's breathing was slightly stagnant: "Did they say what this means?"

Jiang Zhaorong was silent.

Sometimes silence is the best answer. Song Shiwei gritted his teeth and said no more.

After a while, a few sobs were heard, and Song Shiwei whispered, "When I was in His Highness's residence, I was assassinated. Later, His Highness and the Second Prince were imprisoned. I learned that those people wanted me to have clues to the treasure of the previous dynasty."

Jiang Zhaorong's breathing stagnated. He didn't expect that Song Shiwei would take the initiative to mention this to him.

"Father, do you know?"

Jiang Zhaorong paused and said, "I only found out about this later, but I think they must have made a mistake. You have no connection to the previous dynasty, so how could you have the whereabouts of the previous dynasty's treasure on you?"

Song Shi narrowed her eyes slightly, her long eyelashes covering the emotions in her eyes: "I think so too. By the way, father, I vaguely remember that mother once left a letter for me. It's here with you. Can I take a look?"

Jiang Zhaorong's breathing became heavier. "Why are you bringing this up suddenly?"

"I've experienced several assassination attempts and have had conflicts with His Highness. Just now, seeing the joy of family life between my father and me, it's inevitable that I'll think of myself." Song Shiwei's words were truly heartfelt. She pursed her lips slightly, "I just feel a little lonely."

Jiang Zhaorong's gaze seemed to be able to see through Song Shiwei.

Song Shiwei tried her best to relax and look at him as calmly as possible.

After a long moment, Jiang Zhaorong withdrew his gaze. His voice was a bit colder than before: "The study was cleaned earlier, and I don't know where I put it. I'll send someone to give it to you when I find it."

Song Shiwei tried his best to curl the corners of his mouth: "Thank you very much, father. I will go down first and not bother you anymore."

She left holding the portrait, and Jiang Zhaorong stared at her back.

…

Xiao Yanli opened the message from Song Shiwei, and his eyes were fixed on it at first glance.

Jiang Zhaorong said that Song Shiwei’s parents are Song Yong and Du Li?

Let’s not talk about Song Yong for now.

He clearly remembered that the letter placed on Jiang Zhaorong's desk at that time was signed by a person named Du Wen.

Jiang Zhaorong clearly made up two names to fool people.

Xiao Yanli crumpled the letter in his hand into a ball and threw it into the charcoal fire.

He stared at the flames engulfing the paper ball, an unprecedented sense of urgency beating at his heart.

There is only one left, and if that person fails, he will have no choice but to burn his boats.