We are all princes, who doesn't have the spirit of struggle?
King Huai turned his head to look at King An who was laughing foolishly, then withdrew his gaze expressionlessly. This was an exception.
Because Prince Chen's previous behavior was too absurd, many officials who accompanied him along the way were worried that he would fail at the critical moment.
Recite the prayer...
If you can memorize "Nongsang Ji", you should have no problem reciting the entire prayer, right?
When the dragon chariot arrived at the Circular Mound, everyone felt relieved when they saw the solemn expression, graceful gestures, steady and down-to-earth King Chen, holding incense in his hands and slowly ascending the jade steps.
The four princes stood in the front row, looking up at Yun Duqing's back as he stepped step by step to the highest point, each with different feelings.
Perhaps what he was stepping on was not the jade steps of the Circular Mound, but their restless hearts.
"Miss, are you planning to leave the palace?" Chunfen saw Jiuzhu change out of her luxurious palace dress and put on a narrow-sleeved plain skirt.
"Yes, I have already informed my mother." Jiuzhu nodded, took off the jade bracelet and gold ring on her wrist, took off her Feixian bun, and combed her hair into a simple Yuanbao bun: "I will be back before dark."
Chunfen then noticed that there were several female guards in tight-sleeved clothes standing outside the door. These women had firm expressions and sharp eyes, and it was obvious that they were not ordinary people.
"I'll go with you." Chunfen was a little worried.
"Don't worry, you have these powerful girls by your side. You don't have to worry." Jiuzhu said with a smile: "There are many things in Qilin Palace now that cannot be done without you."
"Then you must be careful." Chunfen helped Jiuzhu tie the purse: "Go early and come back early."
"Don't worry, Sister Chunfen." Jiuzhu picked up the wine jar on the table, walked out the door and said to the female guards, "Thank you, ladies."
"I dare not. Princess, you are too polite." The leading female guard took the wine jar from Jiuzhu's hand and said, "Please."
The rain had not stopped yet, and Jiuzhu came to the suburbs in a carriage. Large patches of dead grass covered the entire hilltop, with tender green grass leaves squeezing out from the gaps between the dead grass. When the wind blew, the leaves swayed left and right.
"Princess, we're here." The guard checked the surroundings and confirmed that there were no assassins hiding nearby before walking to the carriage and letting Jiuzhu get off.
Not far from the carriage, there was a solitary grave. If it weren't for the weeds on it that showed signs of having been cut, others would have thought it was just a small mound of earth.
Jiuzhu held up an umbrella, picked up the wine jar with one hand, walked to the grave, and carefully identified the words on the tombstone. The words carved on the tombstone have become mottled and weathered, and one can barely make out his date of birth and death and his name.
The owner of the tomb is named Changsheng.
His name was Changsheng, but he died at the age of nineteen.
Jiuzhu looked at the lonely grave and placed the jar of peach blossom wine in front of the tombstone.
The rain fell on the wine jar, slid to the ground, and left a long water mark on the belly of the jar, like human tears.
"Master said that meeting each other is fate. I heard the story of Concubine Zhao and got her wine, so I came to see you on her behalf." Jiuzhu handed the umbrella to the guard, bent down to pull out the dead grass next to it, lit incense, and hung a string of paper money on the grave.
There were no offerings in front of the grave, and almost no ashes from burnt paper money, and it seemed that few people came to worship him.
"The imperial physician said that Concubine Zhao was in very poor health and had no intention of living." Jiuzhu squatted in front of the tomb, looking at the word "eternal life", and lit paper money and gold ingots: "Don't blame her. Under the powerful rule, she had no choice."
"It's a great thing to be able to persist in doing what your heart desires." Jiuzhu threw the prepared paper money into the burning fire bit by bit: "You and the Concubine Dowager are both great people. You died of grief for her, and she persisted in living for you. Sometimes, dying is easy, but living is hard."
"There are so many beautiful things in this world. If there is an afterlife..." Jiuzhu chuckled and said, "I hope you can become husband and wife, love each other forever, and grow old together."
Although it was a rainy day, the paper money was burning very vigorously, just like Changsheng's deep love for Concubine Zhao.
The master said that her personality was not suitable for practicing Taoism because her heart was in the mortal world and could not transcend. That's why I have been so stubborn in praying for my benefactor in front of the statue over the years, and I will never learn to let go.
The paper money and gold ingots burned out. Jiuzhu looked at the ashes and couldn't help thinking that if someone in the world hurt Her Highness, she would rather die with him than let the other person succeed.
Rubbing her face, she threw away the messy thoughts in her mind and sighed deeply. Master was right. Her character was indeed not suitable for cultivation.
"Princess, someone is coming this way."
Jiuzhu stood up and looked sideways, and saw a woman holding a little girl in her left hand, carrying a basket in her right hand, and walking towards them with difficulty holding a somewhat tattered oil-paper umbrella.
"Don't stop me. I've seen her before. She's the storyteller in the teahouse."
The storyteller led her daughter and saw a carriage that only nobles could ride in the wilderness, along with a group of female guards wearing armor and carrying swords. She was so scared that she held her daughter in her arms and asked, "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"
Could it be that something she said in the book made the listeners dissatisfied?
If you don't like the book, you can just choose not to listen to it, or pay her more money to change the content. But bringing your subordinates to attack her is too much.
A storyteller’s life is also a life.
"Madam." Jiuzhu saw that the madam and the child in her arms were frightened, so she walked up to her and asked, "Do you still recognize me?"
Of course the female teacher recognized Jiuzhu. If she had not taken money from this young lady to tell the story of the Domineering Prince, the Domineering Prince series would not have become so popular throughout the capital.
Who can forget to remember his God of Wealth?
"You're joking, young lady. How could I not remember you?" Seeing the familiar people, the nervousness of the lady was relieved a lot. She secretly looked at the other people around her and asked carefully, "Were these people brought by the young lady?"
"They were sent by the elders in my family to protect me. They never hurt innocent people. Don't be afraid, sir."
The female teacher loosened her daughter's hand a little and said, "I see. I wonder why you are here, young lady?"
She saw that in front of her great uncle's grave there were not only incense, candles, and paper money, but also a jar of wine.
"Is your family an old acquaintance of my great uncle?" The female teacher looked at Jiuzhu in surprise, wondering why she came to sweep her great uncle's grave.
"He is your great uncle?" Jiuzhu saw that the lady's expression did not seem fake, so she followed her back to the tomb.
"Yes." The storyteller placed the offerings in the basket, hung paper flowers on the grave, unwrapped the pile of paper money, and lit it in front of the grave: "My uncle passed away very early, and I never met him. Grandpa said that my uncle once promised to spend his life with a wine-making girl, and even set a date for the wedding, but the wine-making girl was taken away by a nobleman. Since then, my uncle has been ill and was still chanting the wine-making girl's name before he died."
"My uncle died before he was 20, leaving us with nothing to do but to bury him. He never married and had no children, so he couldn't be buried in the ancestral tomb." The storyteller sighed, "In order to bury my uncle in the ancestral tomb, my great-grandfather had planned to let my eldest uncle adopt a child under his name. But that night, my uncle appeared in my great-grandfather's dream and said that he only wanted to have children with the winemaker, and begged my great-grandfather not to adopt other children to him."
"After my great-grandfather and great-grandmother passed away, no one came to burn incense for them." The storyteller took out a sickle from the basket and skillfully cut the newly grown grass on the grave cleanly. Her daughter followed behind her mother and carried the cut grass aside.
"I'm a storyteller, and I often tell my guests stories about life and death. I know there are true love and hate among my elders, and I can't just watch him lie here alone." The storyteller walked to the tombstone and glanced at the jar of wine: "My husband is dead anyway. My husband's family said it's unlucky for a widow to visit the grave, and my natal family said it would affect the fortunes of her brothers if a married woman returns to her natal family to worship her ancestors. I'm here to burn incense for him, and no one will say anything."
"He has no descendants to worship him, and I cannot burn incense for other elders, so no one can look down on anyone." The storyteller saw Jiuzhu holding an umbrella to shield her daughter from the wind and rain, and smiled at her: "Thank you, young lady."
"An elder in my family is an old acquaintance of the old gentleman." Jiuzhu stuffed the umbrella into the little girl's hand and bent down to open the seal on the wine jar: "This wine was brewed by the elder specially for the old gentleman. It was buried under the peach tree for decades and only saw the light of day a few days ago. I took the initiative to bring it here to fulfill the elder's intention."
The wine was taken out of the jar and poured onto the mottled tombstone. The whole grave was filled with the aroma of wine.
"Mom, there is the scent of peach blossoms." The little girl sniffed and looked curiously at the jar of wine in Jiuzhu's hand.
The storyteller said nothing, but just watched Jiuzhu pour out the entire jar of wine.
After Jiuzhu put the wine jar next to the tombstone, the storyteller said, "Miss, if it's convenient, can you give us a ride on the way back to the city?"
The guards looked at the storyteller and did not try to stop her.
"Okay." Jiuzhu smiled: "The roads are slippery in the rain, and I'm worried about you and your daughter going back alone."
"Thank you, young lady." The storyteller bowed deeply to Jiuzhu.
After Jiuzhu and the storyteller's mother and daughter got into the carriage, two female guards followed them into the carriage, just separating the mother and daughter from Jiuzhu.
Along the way, the storyteller did not ask Jiuzhu about her identity until she got off the carriage. She suddenly said, "Miss, please wait for a moment. I have something left by my great uncle. Please give it to your elder."
Jiuzhu nodded: "Okay."
After the storyteller and his daughter got off the carriage, the guard bowed to Jiuzhu and said, "I entered the carriage without the princess's permission. Please punish me, princess."
"You entered the carriage to protect me, what's wrong with that?" Jiuzhu smiled sweetly at the two of them: "I'm sorry for the trouble."
The two female guards blushed when they saw the princess' sweet and lovely smile: "This is our duty."
No wonder the prince and the queen both like the princess. Who wouldn’t like such a cute and considerate girl?
The storyteller came back soon, holding an old wooden box with peeling paint in her hand.
She handed the old wooden box to Jiuzhu and said, "Uncle didn't leave anything behind. This is the only thing left. Take it back with you, girl."
"Thank you, sir." Jiuzhu took the old wooden box without opening it.
"What is there to thank me for?" The storyteller laughed at herself. "For someone like me who is used to telling stories about separation and death, I actually hate separation and death the most. Sometimes I really hope that lovers will eventually get married, that people who promised to be together forever will never change their minds, and that kind people will never encounter hardship. But life is always full of ups and downs. A hundred years is both long and short. No matter good or bad, let's just live."
"Three days later I will be telling the story of the overbearing prince and the pretty daughter in the teahouse. If the young lady has any plots that he likes, I will write one for you." The storyteller resumed his usual warm and hospitable smile.
"Sorry, I can't come in three days." Jiuzhu opened the pouch on her waist, took out a silver ingot from it, and put it in the storyteller's hand: "Let the prince and the beautiful lady get married and never change their hearts. Let the kind people in the story have a happy ending."
"Okay." The storyteller put the silver into her purse and said, "I'll tell you everything according to your wishes, young lady."
Listeners are supreme benefactors. As long as the money is right, any story will do.
Jiuzhu returned to the palace, changed out of her plain skirt, took the wooden box and went to the West Palace.
When Jiuzhu arrived at the courtyard where Concubine Zhao lived, she saw several old concubines wiping their tears in the courtyard. When they saw Jiuzhu coming, they quickly wiped away their tears and forced themselves to smile.
In the palace, crying is also taboo.
"Hello, Concubines." Jiuzhu bowed and pretended not to notice that they were crying. "How is Concubine Zhao?"
A concubine of the highest rank slowly shook her head: "The imperial physician said that it will only take a few days."
Jiuzhu's heart sank. She looked down at the wooden box in her hand, lifted her skirt and walked quickly into the house.
Concubine Zhao, who was lying on the bed, heard footsteps and said, "But Princess Chen is here?"
"Your Highness, it's Princess Chen." The nanny didn't even bother to greet Jiuzhu. She put down the medicine bowl in her hand and said, "The princess is here to see you."
"Help me sit up." Concubine Zhao handed her hand to the nanny. The nanny hesitated for a moment, but still followed Concubine Zhao's instructions and helped her sit up against the head of the bed.
"Empress Dowager." Jiuzhu walked to the window and sat down. As if he didn't notice the sick look on her face, he described the scenery outside the palace in vivid detail. He then took out the storybook and read it to her.
Concubine Zhao listened quietly with a smile on her face. After Jiuzhu finished telling the story in the book, she turned her head and looked out the window: "Is it getting dark soon?"
"It's still early." Jiuzhu smiled: "Please keep me for a while. Your Highness is not in the palace today. It will be boring for me to stay in Qilin Palace alone."
"Okay, okay, you can stay as long as you want." After hearing Jiuzhu say that she would not leave immediately, Concubine Zhao's smile became more obvious. She even asked the palace maid to bring some snacks to Jiuzhu. She did not look like a person who was seriously ill and difficult to treat.
Her eyes were clear, she was in particularly good spirits, and she spoke with more force than in recent days.
"What's the box on your knees?" She saw the peeling paint wooden box on Jiuzhu's knees and a look of nostalgia appeared on her face. A long time ago, the young man she liked made a wooden box like this for her, saying that it was used to store her jewelry.
[I give you a piece of jewelry every year.] When we have children and grandchildren, this box will be full. 】
Jiuzhu stood up and put the old, paint-less wooden box in her hands: "Open it and take a look."
Concubine Zhao stared at the wooden box in a daze. She stretched out her trembling hand and stroked the mottled paint surface. She was speechless for a long time.
She did not rush to open the shabby box, but instead stroked the patterns on it over and over again with her hands until she touched every part of it, and then she opened the wooden box that no longer had a lock.
In the box, there was only a lock of hair tied with a red string and a dusty wooden hairpin.
The red rope had faded and become dull, but the owner had wrapped his hair around and around with it, so even though it had faded, it had not fallen apart.
"Bound to eternal life..." Concubine Zhao gently touched the red string with her fingertips. She was afraid that if she used a little force, the hair would come loose.
Her young man, her young man.
The tears dripping from her eyes, which she thought had been dry, wet the hairpin. She wiped the tears from the hairpin lovingly, put it on her gray hair, and asked Jiuzhu, "Does it look good?"
"It looks good." Jiuzhu leaned over to help Concubine Zhao tidy up her hair and nodded heavily: "It looks good."
"This wooden hairpin was made by Changsheng himself." Concubine Zhao smiled and said, "That year I asked him for a peach blossom hairpin. I didn't want to buy one from a store. I wanted him to make it for me personally."
"He said I was spoiled." Concubine Zhao touched her temples and said, "I didn't see the Peach Blossom Hairpin until I entered the palace. It turns out that he hid it here."
The nanny covered her mouth and cried, and was afraid of being discovered by the concubine, so she secretly retreated to the outer room.
"Before entering the palace, I cut off a lock of my hair and told him that cutting off hair is like cutting off love, and asked him to find a girl he loves and live a good life together." Concubine Zhao raised her lips, but tears kept flowing from her eyes: "This fool cut off his own hair and put it together with me."
On the wedding night, the man and woman will each cut a lock of hair and combine them into one strand, meaning they will be tied together forever.
"Is there anyone paying homage at his grave?" Concubine Zhao looked at Jiuzhu with clear eyes.
"Yes." Jiuzhu nodded: "There is a younger generation who goes to worship him every year."
"That's good." Concubine Zhao murmured to herself, "That's good."
Her life was ordinary and dull, but in Changsheng's eyes, she possessed the most beautiful light.
"I brought the peach blossom wine you brewed to him." Jiuzhu said softly, "He must like it very much."
"Jiuzhu, thank you." Concubine Zhao gently held her hand and looked at her deeply. After a long time, she let go of her hand: "Go back, your highness, you have to go home too."
"I just want to spend some quiet time with Changsheng."
"Okay." Jiuzhu stood up, bowed to Concubine Zhao again as a junior, turned around and walked slowly towards the door.
"Jiuzhu." Concubine Zhao called her.
Jiuzhu quickly turned around to look at her.
"In the royal family tree, I am just surnamed Zhao." She smiled: "Before entering the palace, I had a name, Taohua."
The peach tree is young and thriving, and its flowers are bright and beautiful.
Prince Chen returned to Qilin Palace, but did not find Jiuzhu in the yard, so he went straight to the bedroom.
There were candles lit in the bedroom, but his little Ming Zhu was sitting in the dim light, hugging his knees, like a little puppy who had been caught in the rain and felt wronged.
At this glance, all kinds of thoughts came to his mind, and he hurriedly walked up to her: "Jiuzhu, what's wrong with you?"
"Your Highness." Jiuzhu looked up at him, tears welling up in her eyes.
"What happened? Who made you unhappy?" He reached out to wipe away the tears from the corners of her eyes, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible, hugged her in his arms, and gently patted her back: "Tell me, I'll help you vent your anger."
He couldn't bear to say a harsh word to his little pig.
"I feel bad." Jiuzhu shook her head, her voice soft and listless: "No one provokes me."
Prince Chen sat on the stool and put her on his knees: "Okay, then tell me why you feel sad, and I will cheer you up."
Jiuzhu leaned in his arms, shook her head and didn't want to talk.
If the late emperor had not committed evil, how could so many innocent women have been forced into the palace?
She didn't say anything, and the Prince of Chen didn't ask any more questions. He just patted her back again and again and gently rocked her knees, as if he was coaxing an unhappy child.
He has always been impatient, but in front of her, he is infinitely gentle.
"Prince, Princess." Yang Yiduo stood outside the door and whispered, "News came from the Dowager Concubine's Palace in the west. Dowager Concubine Zhao passed away."
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