Chapter 100: The Emperor's Wrath Leads to an Imperial Edict; Jiang Ge, Magistrate of Songyang County, Sells His Official Position...

When Du Fu returned to the Tang Dynasty, he was still overwhelmed with joy.

He met Yuchi Jingde and Qin Shubao today, and they even had a close conversation and held hands, which constituted physical contact.

Even...even!

Qin Shubao even promised to tell Emperor Taizong about his deeds!

Is he dreaming?

Beside him, Yang Shi, with the child, watched Du Fu with concern. He was crying and laughing, his emotions fluctuating wildly. Moreover, he had disappeared for the entire day, and no one knew what he was doing.

"Zimei, what's wrong?"

The caring words seemed to pull Du Fu back to reality, back to his thatched cottage, his wife, and his children. After Du Fu resigned from his official post, Yang followed him and their children through the war-torn region.

They survived the flames of war, relying on each other for survival.

Even meals were irregular, sometimes he was hungry and sometimes he was full. The children grew up in hunger. Zongwen was already old, but he wouldn't say he was hungry. He would just tighten his belt and drink more water. Zongwu was younger. When he saw his father, he rushed straight to him and twitched his little nose a few times. He smelled the meat.

His wet eyes stared intently at Du Fu, and he bit his fingers without making a sound.

Looking at his youngest son's eyes, Du Fu felt as if the braised pork and rice he had eaten at noon were sinking down in his stomach, sinking straight down, so much so that he dared not look directly into Yang's caring gaze.

How could he be so selfish?

"Zimei, what happened?" Along the way, Madam Yang had seen many strange and bizarre things, and couldn't help but worry.

She suddenly grabbed Du Fu's sleeve. The sleeve was wide, but it seemed as if something was inside that pressed down on it, flattening it completely.

Yang thought something had happened to Du Fu's hand, and in her alarm, she reached inside his sleeve to feel for it.

I don't know what I'm pinching, but it's making a rustling sound, and it feels hollow when I pinch it.

Du Fu stretched out his hand and obediently let Yang touch him inside his sleeve.

It was during this same action that Yang touched him several more times, causing the thing in his sleeve to fall out.

There were more than one that fell to the ground.

Du Fu, Yang Shi, Zong Wen, and Zong Wu all stared at the red bag on the ground with wide eyes. What was this thing?

All four of them had the same question in their minds.

Only young Zongwu asked aloud, "Father, what is this? Can we eat it?"

He was very hungry; he had been unlucky these past few days, going hungry one meal after another.

You can't get full just by drinking water.

All he wants to do right now is eat.

Zongwu's question was also Du Fu's question; he didn't know where this thing came from, but he knew a little more than Yang and the others, so he wasn't afraid. He picked up the bag and turned it over, only to find a piece of paper pasted on it, explaining how to consume it.

Simply steep it in hot water.

There was still some hot water left, so Du Fu tore open the packet and, following the instructions, started preparing the instant noodles. He didn't use a bowl; instead, he soaked them directly in the packet. As the steam rose, the aroma gradually intensified.

Children can tell something is delicious just by smelling it.

Du Fu told Yang everything that had happened that day. He had deliberately gone to work in a quiet, secluded spot that morning, so he hadn't witnessed anything. Yang was somewhat skeptical of his story. However, he really couldn't figure out who had sent the instant noodles. Who could it be?

The aroma wafted straight to my nose. Seeing the looks in my wife's and children's eyes, I decided to stop thinking about it and eat first.

The bag was bubbling and steaming, emitting a strange fragrance—ten times more fragrant than boiled wild vegetable porridge, and a hundred times softer than hard, gritty acorn cakes.

"Mother, is it ready yet?" Zongwu swallowed hard, his fingers tapping restlessly on the rim of the bowl.

He had already hurriedly brought the bowl over.

Madam Yang stirred it with a wooden spoon and said with a smile, "What's the rush? Wait a little longer."

But Zongwu couldn't wait. Taking advantage of Yang's turn away, he secretly used the tip of his chopsticks to pick up a noodle, slurped it into his mouth, and gasped for breath from the heat, but he couldn't bear to spit it out. The noodle was slippery, with a fresh taste he had never tasted before, and it was chewy and elastic, even better than the thin noodles he had eaten before.

"You child!" Madam Yang turned around and saw him, making a move to hit him, but Zongwu had already shrank his neck to hide, his mouth stuffed full, his eyes narrowed into slits with laughter.

Zongwen held the bowl, his little face serious.

He first leaned closer to smell it, his brows furrowing slightly—the smell was too strong, almost unreal. Ever since his father resigned from his official post, the food he had eaten consisted of either wild vegetables with an earthy taste or hard, coarse grain cakes. Occasionally, a bowl of thin porridge would make him happy for half a day.

"This is called...instant noodles?" Zongwen asked in a low voice.

Zongwu, his mouth full of noodles, mumbled, "Mmm! Father said it must have been given by an immortal!"

Zong Wen picked up a stick with some skepticism and carefully took a small bite.

The next second, his eyes suddenly widened.

The noodles bounced on his tongue, their fresh and fragrant flavor exploding as they slid down his throat, warmly filling his empty stomach. Ignoring the heat, he quickly picked up another mouthful, this time slurping the soup and noodles together, not even bothering to wipe the broth that splashed onto his clothes.

Watching from the side, Yang's eyes suddenly welled up with tears. She hadn't seen her two children eat so heartily in a long time.

Yang held the bowl, but did not pick up her chopsticks immediately.

She first glanced at Zongwen, who was wolfing down his food, then at Zongwu, who was eating with his head down, and finally looked down at the golden noodles in her bowl.

This food is strangely obtained; is it a recruitment notice from an immortal?

She picked up a noodle, blew on it gently, and put it in her mouth.

The taste was indeed excellent, more delicious than any noodles she had ever eaten in her life. But as she chewed, she suddenly remembered a winter in Chang'an, before the city fell into chaos, when Du Fu was just a minor military officer in the Right Guard's Office. One day, after receiving his salary, he excitedly bought a bushel of white flour, and she personally rolled out noodles and cooked a pot of steaming hot soup noodles.

At that time, the An Lushan Rebellion had not yet occurred, and the youngest son was still alive. The two boys, Zongwen and Zongwu, were still small, playfully fighting over food around the table. Du Fu smiled and recited a poem, praising the noodles she cooked as smooth and fragrant, filling the room with their aroma.

A tear suddenly fell into the soup.

"Mother?" Zongwen looked up at her, puzzled.

Yang hurriedly wiped her eyes and said with a smile, "It's nothing, the soup was too hot and it stung my eyes."

She lowered her head and took a sip of the soup; its flavor was so delicious it almost brought her to tears. But she knew that no matter how delicious the food, it couldn't compare to the peaceful days when her family sat together eating wild vegetable porridge.

Du Fu watched his wife and children eat, but he didn't touch the food himself. There were only four bags to begin with, and if he ate one less bag, his wife and children could eat more.

He clutched the edge of his sleeve, wondering who had given it to him.

Before leaving get off work today, he met with everyone except Wei Zhongxian because he needed to make records.

However, based on common sense, it should be Yuchi Jingde and Qin Shubao, right?

During the Zhenguan period of the Tang Dynasty.

Li Shimin was busy handling state affairs, while Yuchi Jingde and Qin Shubao stood outside the door waiting. They couldn't help but sneeze.

"Who's talking about us?" Yuchi Jingde rubbed his nose. He does good deeds every day, so surely no one is talking badly about him behind his back?

"Perhaps Du Fu discovered what was in his sleeve." Qin Shubao chuckled as he said this, "These literati are just different from us; they didn't even notice when they had something on them."

Yuchi Jingde felt fortunate that Du Fu was a rough-around-the-edges type, otherwise, everyone would have taken a bag, and Zhuge Liang and Zhou Yu would have each taken a bag as well.

If it's discovered early, there's bound to be some back and forth.

He was too lazy to push or pull.

These things are all saved up, and it's not easy to store them up. After all, everyone has to go back to their own dynasty after get off work. Although Du Fu was a great poet, they weren't familiar with each other, so it was already very kind of them to give him something.

Zhuge Liang, in particular, even considered giving Du Fu some gold.

Du Fu himself hadn't had a full meal for several days, let alone his wife and children. If even a great poet like Du Fu couldn't have enough to eat, how difficult must the world be?

Yuchi Jingde and Qin Shubao couldn't help but feel heavy-hearted.

After working for a long time, Li Shimin finally put down his pen and said, "Come in."

As the door opened, Qin Shubao and Yuchi Jingde stepped in one after the other.

Qin Shubao's brows furrowed with a rare solemnity, while Yuchi Jingde remained unusually silent, his usually piercing, bell-like eyes now slightly lowered.

"What is it?" Li Shimin leaned forward slightly, his eyes expectant. "Could it be that something has gone wrong in Songyang County again?"

"No," Qin Qiong clasped his hands in greeting. "It's just that someone came to the county today—Du Fu."

“Du Fu?” Li Shimin tapped the table lightly with his fingertips, pondering for a moment. “Is he the poet who wrote ‘Behind the red gates, meat and wine go to waste, while on the road, frozen corpses lie’?”

This poem left a deep impression on Li Shimin, since there weren't many poets who spoke out for ordinary people in their writings. Most poets used their poems to talk about romance and personal frustrations.

“Exactly,” Yuchi Jingde said in a muffled, hoarse voice, “Your Majesty, that old Du… he’s having a miserable time.”

Yuchi Jingde recounted Du Fu's experiences.

After hearing this, Li Shimin sighed deeply. He had only seen Du Fu's poems in the TV series and did not know about his life and experiences. He never expected this.

"The way of a ruler is to first protect the people. If one sacrifices the people to benefit himself, it is like cutting off his own flesh to feed his belly; he will be full but die."

If all those in power thought like Li Shimin, the lives of ordinary people would be much better.

The emperor has passed away, and the eldest prince has just come to power. He receives a letter from Liu Xun impeaching Jiang Ge.

After reading it, I sneered: "So even this insignificant official position was bought."

Really.

Nonsense.

On his first day in power, he decided to deal with everyone who had ever disrespected him, including Django.

People often say that when an emperor is angry, millions will die; today, he's going to try and see what that tastes like.

He picked up the vermilion brush and made a heavy stroke on the imperial edict that had already been drafted, the ink stain as red as blood.

"Issue an imperial decree: Jiang Ge, the magistrate of Songyang County, has been found guilty of buying and selling official positions and colluding with bandits. He shall be immediately dismissed from his post and arrested and brought to the capital!"

The sound faded.

The commander of the Imperial Guards, who was waiting outside the palace, immediately accepted the order, mustered his elite cavalry, and rushed to Songyang County overnight.

The eldest prince knew that local officials were deeply entrenched and that if he only dealt with Jiang Ge, there was no guarantee that someone wouldn't secretly sabotage him.

"We hereby appoint Zhou Yan, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Justice, as Imperial Commissioner, leading several thousand elite troops to take over the Songyang County government and thoroughly investigate Jiang Ge's faction!"

Zhou Yan was a notoriously incorruptible judge, ruthless in his methods. With him in charge, no one in Songyang County would dare to act rashly. These layers of safeguards were still not enough to extinguish the flames in the Crown Prince's heart. He was about to ascend the throne; he would be the new ruler of this land, the heaven and earth for all his subjects.

If Heaven is angry, people must endure it.

The eldest prince narrowed his eyes slightly and tapped his knuckles lightly on the table.

"Since Jiang Ge dared to collude with mountain bandits, there must be evidence of his crimes in his residence. Order Zhou Yan to seal off his house, and imprison all those involved!"

He wanted more than just Django's life; he wanted to use it to intimidate the court and the public—to let the world know that no one could stop the new emperor's wrath!

Once Jiang Ge was escorted to the capital, the Crown Prince had already arranged for the Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review to conduct a rigorous interrogation, ensuring that he would "confess" to more crimes.

"Once he confesses, he will be executed in public, and his head will be displayed at the city gate for three days as a warning to others!"

-----------------------

Author's Note: I feel like I'm getting better and better at writing, and I'm very satisfied! [doge][doge][doge] Please add my new story to your favorites! [Let me see!]