Chapter 122: Song Anbang's Jealousy

Don't be fooled by Jiang Sijin's current anxious demeanor; who knows if she's just putting on an act?

The county was thrown into chaos by Hensheng's disappearance, while Yangcheng, five hundred miles to the east of the county, was bustling with activity.

Hu Wen, the prefect of Yangcheng, came from a minor noble family and did not have much talent. Reaching the position of prefect was arguably his limit.

Song Anbang was a Marquis of Benevolence from the imperial court. Regardless of how he obtained this title, a higher official rank always has an advantage.

Moreover, this man was quite resourceful. A peasant boy, he first gained the favor of the last emperor, then turned to the rebels when the capital was besieged, and finally moved among the aristocratic families, eventually obtaining the title of marquis.

He can be considered a role model for ordinary people to achieve success against all odds.

Therefore, when Song Anbang brought his men over, Hu Wen was extremely eager to curry favor, not only giving up his private residence but also offering countless beautiful women.

Song Anbang moved into the mansion and accepted the beautiful women, but he didn't use them for himself; instead, he gave them to his peasant henchmen.

These people were all deeply grateful to Song Anbang.

Inside the room, a stunningly handsome man lay quietly on the bed. His skin was as smooth and lustrous as mutton fat jade, and his features were exquisitely sculpted. Most striking of all was his overall aura.

Broken, fragile, yet resilient, it evokes tenderness in anyone who sees it.

Looking at the person on the bed, Song Anbang superimposed him with the person in his memory.

He never imagined that the Song family could produce such a stunning beauty, and that such a beauty could successfully become empress, even bringing glory to his cousin who was not even a fifth degree of kinship with her.

The person on the couch seemed to sense the intense gaze and frowned unhappily in their sleep.

Even when a beautiful woman frowns, she is still incredibly beautiful. As she frowns, her long, feather-light eyelashes tremble gently, and the shadows under her eyes shift slightly, creating a delicate, broken beauty between her brows.

It makes one want to smooth out the wrinkles between the beauty's brows.

In fact, Song Anbang did just that.

A large, thick hand emerged from the sleeve and landed above the man's forehead, casting a palm-sized shadow that completely covered his face.

The change in light alerted the sleeping man. When the fingertip was an inch away from his brow, the man suddenly opened his beautiful eyes, which sparkled like a galaxy.

Hen Sheng quickly distanced himself from Song Anbang, his eyes warily fixed on the person in front of him.

"Who are you?"

He glanced at the unfamiliar surroundings out of the corner of his eye, and then added another sentence.

"Where am I? Why am I here?"

Song Anbang silently withdrew his hand, straightened his robes, and adopted the demeanor of an elder.

"I am your uncle."

uncle?

After a brief mental lapse, Hensheng figured out who the visitor was.

Song Anbang was the man who opened the city gates when the rebels besieged the capital.

He was also the murderer who indirectly caused the death of his biological father.

Hensheng lowered his eyes and remained silent, truly unsure of how to address him.

Calling him "uncle" would seem disrespectful to his deceased father.

But if we don't call out, it seems a bit against etiquette.

Song Anbang remained silent, seemingly waiting for Hensheng to speak first.

The two, nominally uncle and nephew, remained silent.

After a long silence, Hensheng finally broke the silence, and he had come up with an excellent way to address him.

"I wonder why Your Excellency has kidnapped me?"

She was preparing for her wedding when she heard from the villagers that her wedding dress had arrived. Just as she was about to try it on, she suddenly lost consciousness and woke up in this unfamiliar room.

A little thought would tell him that the person in front of him must have taken the opportunity to kidnap him.

Song Anbang avoided answering the question and instead brought up another topic.

"Do you know that if I hadn't secretly orchestrated things back then, the Hu family wouldn't have been able to take you out of the palace so easily?"

"Oh? Is that so?" Hensheng's eyebrows twitched slightly. "Then shouldn't I thank the Marquis for sparing my life?"

"Hey, child, what are you saying?" Song Anbang switched to an elder's lecturing tone with practiced ease. "Your mother's surname is Song, and you have half of our Song family blood in your veins. We are blood relatives, so what's this about letting go or not letting go? If you're in trouble, of course I, as your uncle, will help you if I can."

"Then how did my mother die? Did the Marquis help her at the time?"

When the capital was besieged, even the emperor could not die for his country, so what good could the empress possibly have?

Although everyone tacitly avoided the topic, Hensheng knew that his biological mother was doomed to die, so he wisely refrained from asking.

But he still wanted to know why and when his mother died.

Song Anbang sighed heavily, his tone filled with endless regret.

"If you ask me, it's your mother who's too arrogant. She was originally a peasant girl, illiterate, and didn't understand any of the Confucian etiquette. Now that she's become incredibly wealthy and powerful, and enjoys the supreme honor of being an empress, she should just enjoy it. The rebels want the emperor's life, and she, an empress born into a peasant family, can't control the overall situation. Besides, with me around, as long as she's smart enough to choose sides, she'll still have no worries about food and clothing for the rest of her life. It's a pity that she had to learn from those fools and do that thing of dying for her country and her husband."

Hensheng's hands, which were placed at his sides, tightened quietly, causing several wrinkles to form in the fabric.

Therefore, his biological father was forced to his death by the rebels, and his mother also died for her country.

The person before them, who clearly owed their rise to high positions and the enjoyment of wealth and glory to these two, spoke of their deaths so lightly.

Hensheng had never met his biological parents, but this did not affect the natural kinship buried in his blood.

"Has Your Excellency never dreamt of vengeful spirits seeking revenge in the past twenty years?"

Hensheng raised his eyes, his eyes reddening as he looked at his nominal uncle.

If looks could kill, Song Anbang would have been sliced ​​into countless pieces.

Even when a beauty is angry, she is breathtakingly beautiful. The touch of red at the corner of her eye brings out the sense of fragility in her, making one feel an irresistible urge to possess and protect her.

Song Anbang answered frankly, "No, for the past twenty years, I have slept soundly every night."

"Sizzle—"

He was so angry that he couldn't help but tear off a piece of fabric.

How can there be such a shameless person in this world?

Seemingly understanding what Hensheng was thinking, Song Anbang smiled nonchalantly.

“My dear nephew, you were born into a good family. Even if you were born at the wrong time, you still have a large number of loyal followers who are willing to protect you. Can you say that you would have survived to this day without their help?”

Song Anbang suddenly changed his tone, his voice becoming as cold as if it had been soaked in an icy pool.

“But I’m different. From birth, I have to fight for everything I want. I often think that God is really unfair. Why was I born into a peasant family when I was full of ambition and had exceptional talent? I have had to worry about making a living since I can remember.”

By the end, the jealousy in his voice was almost overflowing.