Extra Chapter 7: Nongzi Stone: The Stone of Controversy among the People
Nongzi Stone was not a stubborn stone at the beginning.
He also had his share of peaceful years, when, like all other bookworms, he buried himself in the classics, looking forward to the day when he would "master both literary and martial arts, and serve the emperor."
At the age of 20, he passed the imperial examination and became a scholar. Although his achievement was small, it seemed as if a bright and smooth road was opening before him. However, it was in that year that he truly opened his eyes.
He saw the struggle of ants beneath the smooth road.
He saw fields where all the grass roots had been dug out during the spring famine, saw the muddy river where baby girls were drowned to save food, saw how rural clerks used the names of "fire consumption" and "foot money" to squeeze every last drop of money out of the common people, and saw farmers whose land had been seized by the powerful, kneeling in front of the county government and kowtowed until their foreheads bled, but still could not get a glance from the justice.
The warm light in his heart quickly cooled down.
He didn't understand why the "benevolent government" and "love for the people" described in the books of sages were so light and insignificant in reality that they were not as valuable as a piece of straw paper.
He began to speak loudly, criticizing current social ills at literary gatherings, in front of teachers and classmates, and speaking frankly. His responses were sneers, shakes of the head, and comments like "Zishi is young and impulsive, and doesn't understand worldly affairs."
No one listened to him, but he kept talking.
When he took the imperial examination, he looked at the topics "education" and "agriculture" and finally could no longer hold back. He poured out all his anger and the suffering of the people he had witnessed on paper.
The result was like being poured with ice water.
The scholar's title was revoked, and his superiors accused him of "spreading false information to confuse the people and slandering the court."
His former classmates avoided him like the plague, and his parents left one after another in worry and shame.
He became truly alone.
The words I want to say are stuck in my throat, and the things I want to do are tied to my hands and feet, becoming invisible shackles.
He thought that he would be like countless other such untimely and unknown people, silently rotting in the soil with an unspeakable feeling of loneliness and indignation.
Until he heard about Princess Mingzhu Ning Lingyi.
He raised his head, looked at the equally young princess, and shouted hoarsely, "Your Highness! Give the people of the world a chance to live!"
He didn't know if she would think he was crazy like everyone else, and he was even ready to die immediately. But he saw Ning Lingyi kneeling beside him, crying and saying to him, "Sir, I promise you."
With just one sentence, Nong Zishi's throat, which had been blocked for half his life, and his blood, which had been cold for half his life, instantly collapsed and a warm current surged. He fell to the ground, crying bitterly, like an abandoned child who had finally found a home.
From then on, the world lost a cynical and down-and-out scholar, and gained the sharpest knife in Ning Lingyi's hand.
His imperial examination system had long been abolished, and the literati regarded him as a lucky recruit, a peculiar lackey. He had no parents, wife, or children to tie him down, and he did not covet wealth or seek fame before or after his death.
The only meaning of his life is the breath of air in his heart that has never cooled down, and the words that the king promised with tears in his eyes on that rainy night.
People like him should not be in the court.
But he just stood there, standing on the golden bricks of Minyou Hall, standing more steadily and upright than many officials who came from the official path of imperial examinations.
Because behind him is Ning Lingyi.
When he was the Minister of Punishment, he killed corrupt officials without mercy. He used the sword given to him by Ning Lingyi to behead treacherous officials the most. Many times, his head fell to the ground before the impeachment memorials were still on the way and the intercessors had not yet arrived.
happy!
Someone privately advised him: "If the Minister of Agriculture behaves like this today, how will he cope with the future?"
Upon hearing this, Nong Zishi simply said, "Tomorrow? I don't have a tomorrow."
He had long regarded himself as a piece of burnt firewood, hoping only to burn more of the world's filth before going out.
Sure enough, in the spring of the tenth year of Taichu, that cup of poisoned tea arrived. As the tea entered his throat and the burning pain spread, he felt a strange sense of relief.
From his own selfish point of view, this cup of poison had arrived too late. He should have died long ago at the hands of those people, and that he was still alive today was a gift from His Majesty, a stolen gift of time.
He immediately understood the other party's malicious intention of choosing this time to attack. They not only wanted to kill him, but also wanted to use this opportunity to throw dirty water on the military generals and nobles, stir up internal strife in the court, so as to weaken His Majesty and allow the civil officials and gentry to become more dominant.
Good calculation.
He had wanted to show his skills once again and fight for His Majesty.
Sadly, he was about to die.
When his consciousness was fading, the only thing that flashed through his mind was relief.
She was glad that she had agreed to him, and was glad that he had stood behind her for more than ten years and had truly done something for the world.
He knew Ning Lingyi's determination and means, and he would never be weak.
But he was still worried.
This vast land, this vast people, is too heavy a burden. He will use his own death to put the heaviest shackles on her, using this dripping blood to tightly bind her to the word "people".
"Your Majesty, I'm sorry..."
A trace of regret flashed through his heart. He felt sorry for her by trapping her on the dragon throne in such a tragic way, leaving her unable to escape.
But he had no choice.
He is about to die.
Who else in the future can be like him, regardless of anything else, and just say a word for the people?
He doesn't know.
He really had no other choice.
The gold bricks were cold, and he curled up on the ground, leaving behind his last words of advice:
"His Majesty……"
"I hope you...will not forget the people..."
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