Chapter 88 "What does A-Yao want me to give you...?"
One blow kills.
Zhang Rang's body twitched a few times, his eyes widened, and gradually lost their luster.
Blood was everywhere.
"General!"
Everyone looked at Ji Chengnin in shock.
They haven't even had a chance to investigate yet!
The young general's face remained expressionless as he stared at the corpse on the ground for a moment before coldly saying, "Drag it out and bury it."
“Yes,” Li Bi replied immediately.
Although Ji Chengnin is not a good-tempered person, he is extremely patient when it comes to official matters. Why...why is he so angry today?
Ji Chengnin wiped the blood off his knife and turned to leave.
A night breeze was blowing.
As the summer heat gradually dissipated, this place, which was extremely hot during the day, became extremely cold at night. A cool breeze swept across Ji Chengning's face, making his slightly disheveled sideburns fly, but it could not dispel the heat in his heart, as if someone had stuffed him with a blazing coal fire.
It's hot and painful.
The excitement he felt while researching the new artillery with Meng Qi vanished in an instant.
As if possessed, Ji Chengning reached for his waist and grasped the fan that Consort Ji had given him.
Be careful.
He savored the two words carefully, swirling them repeatedly in his mouth like sharp thorns, almost making him taste the metallic tang of blood.
Be careful.
Ji Chengnin strode inside.
The fan pendant swayed violently up and down with his movements, colliding with the goose-feather saber at his waist with a crackling sound.
His aunt told him to be cautious and to make sure he got to the bottom of things. However, matters of state were best left unsaid, and the more he tried to unravel the mystery, the more trouble he would only be causing himself.
Ji Chengnin gasped sharply, the cold air rushing into his mouth. The heat dissipated, leaving only a chill in his stomach, as if he had swallowed solid ice.
A chilling cold surged wildly through every part of my body.
He gripped the knife tightly.
The hilt of the knife embedded itself in his palm, leaving a deep mark.
I don't know what to do, and I don't even know why I'm so angry.
Ji Chengnin picked up his sword and walked forward aimlessly.
If only my second uncle were here.
Ji Chengning felt a splitting headache and became more and more agitated the more he thought about it. He picked up his knife, his face so gloomy it was almost dripping with water, looking like a killing god who had just gained human form, and walked menacingly toward the training ground.
The wooden dummy used for drills stands in the very center of the training ground.
The wind rustled the ribbons on the wooden figure.
A faceless head stared at him.
"Swish, swish—"
Ji Chengnin narrowed his eyes and stood up, knife in hand.
The sword strikes, slashes, and cuts are fierce and merciless, and a closer look is enough to make one's heart tremble with fear.
Wood chips flew everywhere.
Ji Chengning closed his eyes.
He didn't stop swinging the knife; he held his breath, focusing all his attention on the blade.
Ruthless, yet extremely calm.
As a child, he was impatient. While others were learning to read and write and studying the teachings of sages, he was different. Before he could even hold a brush, he could already wield a knife quite skillfully.
As a descendant of a military family, it should be a good thing that he has such talent. However, Ji Lin seemed unhappy. But since Ji Chengning was using a small wooden knife, Lord Ji turned a blind eye and assumed that all children of this age were so lively and there was no need to make a fuss.
But soon after, Ji Lin changed her mind.
Back then, Ji Chengning was only five or six years old, shorter than the sword, yet he seemed to be possessed, insisting on using the real sword left behind by the Marquis of Yongning.
After learning about this, Zhong Du's master solemnly cast a divination for Ji Chengning, saying that the young marquis was a reincarnation of a wicked star and needed to be suppressed with a blade, to stop killing with killing, and to stop punishment with punishment. Metal and iron were in line with his destiny.
The sword was borrowed by Ji Chengning to drink blood, and Ji Chengning made meritorious contributions with the sword. However, he was born with the Seven Killings, and every sharp blade would devour its master. When he was at the height of his power, he declined. Looking at the history books and all the heroes, how many people like him have had a good end?
Ji Lin scoffed at such superstitious and bizarre things.
However, whether intentionally or unintentionally, the weapons and armor that originally belonged to the Marquis of Yongning were completely wiped out after that day.
Ji Chengning had been living a quiet life for several years. Just when Ji Lin thought that Ji Chengning would never mention weapons again in his life, Ji Chengning came to him and said very seriously, "Second Uncle, I want to learn martial arts."
He spoke with such certainty that Ji Lin stared at him for a few seconds. "Why?"
Without hesitation, the young boy declared, "I want to be like my father, wielding a three-foot sword, achieving unparalleled feats, and repaying the emperor's kindness on the golden platform!"
Is there anything else?
"Furthermore, there are still people who live a life that should not be wasted, ending their days in mediocrity."
Is there anything else?
"And..." Ji Chengnin opened his eyes wide in confusion, suspecting that his second uncle was deliberately making things difficult for him, "What else?"
Ji Lin lowered her eyes.
With a pale face, dark eyes, and slightly lowered gaze, he should have been a statue of a god, devoid of joy or sorrow. However—it was the first time Ji Chengning had seen grief in the eyes of his cold, dignified, and almost omnipotent elder.
But not to him.
Ji Chengning suddenly felt a very strange feeling.
Second Uncle, who are you looking at as you pass by him?
“And another thing,” Ji Lin lowered her head and took Ji Chengnin’s hand. The boy had been secretly practicing swordsmanship, and his once delicate fingers were now covered with a thin layer of calluses. Several long, narrow scars on his fair skin were shocking to the eye. Ji Lin’s fingers gently brushed over Ji Chengnin’s scars as she asked seriously, “For whom are you using your sword?”
For yourself, for the emperor, or for whom?
Being ennobled and appointed prime minister, achieving great military exploits and having one's name engraved in history—how exciting and inspiring! One would be eager to repay the emperor with one's life. However, the success of one general is built on the bones of ten thousand.
In the end, whose throat will your sword be held against?
Is this what you wanted?
Ji Chengnin, of course, did not see through Ji Lin's deeper meaning.
He was never a thoughtful or shrewd person, especially not with his closest relatives. Young Master Ji smiled nonchalantly, half in a coquettish tone and half in a provocative manner, "Second Uncle, you're so long-winded. I'm so young, what can't I do in this world?"
They were so high-spirited that it was almost irritating.
Ji Lin was stunned for a few seconds.
Immediately, he patted the top of his head hard.
The following day, Ji Lin hired the best martial arts instructor in the capital for him.
His breath surged heavily and slowly.
The blade flashed, like a thunderbolt in fury, descending with immense force.
"Bang—"
The wooden figure's head flew off suddenly, leaving a clean, sharp break in the wooden stake beneath it.
The head rolled on the ground and finally landed next to a pair of black military boots.
"Click".
They bumped into each other gently.
The person paused.
Ji Chengnin sheathed his sword.
In an instant, all his anger seemed to vanish, leaving only a weary, superficial calm.
“Ah Yao,” Ji Chengning looked at the person who came, a hint of surprise in his eyes, “Why are you here?”
Sheathing the knife aggravated his long-suffering arm, causing him to wince in pain.
I didn't notice anything amiss until now, but now I feel the pain in my wound is excruciating.
He silently gasped, trying his best to keep his expression from showing any unusual reaction.
Cui Yao strode forward.
He seemed genuinely oblivious to Ji Chengnin's worsening injuries, and said softly, "I heard from Li Bi that the young master came to the training ground, so I came to check on him." He stepped past the head, "Young master, what's wrong?"
“I…” Ji Chengnin paused, “I’m fine.”
Cui Yao's gaze fell on him, her brows furrowing slightly.
Ji Chengnin's heart tightened.
Cui Yao raised her hand.
Ji Chengning froze, unwilling to let Cui Yao notice his abnormality, so he could only suppress the numbness in the back of his neck and let Cui Yao step forward and gently take his hand.
Um?
Ji Chengning suddenly looked up.
Cui Yao sighed.
He held Ji Chengnin's fingers with one hand, and with the other hand, he wrapped a handkerchief around the fingertips and carefully wiped away the blood from his knuckles.
There, a layer of skin had been rubbed off by something, revealing pale pink, tender flesh with traces of blood.
Cui Yao was increasingly alarmed as she looked at it, but she didn't show it on her face. She only said, "If this continues, your hands will probably be ruined."
Ji Chengnin said with a grin, "Being able to gain my cousin's concern is enough; even if I were to become useless, it wouldn't be a pity."
His intention was to distract Cui Yao, but his cousin raised her hand and lightly tapped his forehead.
Ji Chengning covered his head, his peach blossom eyes filled with a deliberately revealed sense of grievance.
“Let’s go, Your Highness,” Cui Yao said, putting her hand on Ji Chengning’s shoulder. “It’s too late.”
Ji Chengnin hesitated.
Cui Yao looked at Ji Chengning quietly.
His gaze was calm and serene, without a trace of confusion or doubt. He simply looked at Ji Chengnin quietly, as if he could encompass everything.
Ji Chengning inexplicably felt at ease.
He lifted his robe and sat down casually on the sand.
Looking up at Cui Yao, he asked, "A Yao, do you know about Zhang Rang?"
"I have heard about it."
Ji Chengnin waved his hand. "It's not official business, just a casual chat between the two of us." He paused, his fingers casually picking up a pebble from beside his leg and playing with it. "A-Yao, what do you think of Zhang Rang?"
The pebble rolled nimbly between his fingers, making a clicking sound.
Cui Yao was silent for a few seconds. “If there is a shortage of food, cannibalism would be a tragedy. But Meng Qi is Xiao Dingguan’s confidant, so he obviously does not lack food.” Not only does he not lack food, but with Xiao Dingguan’s influence, he can certainly choose from all kinds of rare and precious things. Cannibalism is not only not a last resort, but a deliberate display of power. “Therefore, this man is utterly depraved and deserves to die.”
Ji Chengnin nodded.
His expression still seemed somewhat confused.
After a long pause, Ji Chengning said softly, "Zhang Rang is indeed a beast, and Xiao Dingguan, by inciting the people for personal gain, is even more heinous and deserves to be torn to pieces. However," he looked up, his eyes showing a hint of pity, "who exactly was the instigator who could gather an entire city's population and use them for his own purposes?"
By the end, his voice was so hoarse he could no longer be heard.
Cui Yao's pupils suddenly contracted.
Ji Chengning did not notice Cui Yao's expression.
He seemed to be in a long dream, his mind neither perfectly clear nor completely confused.
The towering tree of the Wei Dynasty had long been riddled with holes by termites. If it did not undergo a radical and decisive reform, such uprisings would only increase in the future.
Xiao Dingguan indiscriminately killed innocent people, using the name of righteousness to satisfy his own selfish desires. It was justified for him to kill Xiao Dingguan. But if someone who truly obeys the will of Heaven and the people were to emerge later, to whom would his sword be pointed?
Is he going to take human lives as the price for his eternal glory?
The young general's face remained expressionless, but his eyebrows twitched, and anger burned in his eyes, making them red.
Cui Yao lowered her eyes for a moment.
He looked puzzled, glancing at his rapidly heaving chest.
His chest trembled strangely.
A stinging pain, and a burning thirst.
"Ultimately," Ji Chengnin's voice was so soft it was almost a murmur, "whose fault is it?"
Cui Yao reached out and covered Ji Chengning's lips with her hand.
The fingertip pressed against the lips, the touch was quite soft, it was surprising that such a sharp and flamboyant little general could have such soft lips.
It's as if you've pried open a clam to reveal the soft, red flesh inside.
It makes one want to go even further, to insert a finger inside, and see if that can elicit a more intense reaction from him.
The fingers were cold, so cold that Ji Chengning was startled.
He suddenly realized what was happening.
Their eyes met suddenly.
Cui Yao's Adam's apple bobbed.
It's so hot here, so incredibly hot.
"cousin?"
After a pause, Ji Chengnin sighed softly, "I know my cousin cares about me, but what I have to say is like a fishbone stuck in my throat, and I have to get it out."
Cui Yao didn't speak.
He couldn't very well tell Ji Chengnin that he didn't want Ji Chengnin to keep quiet.
But all I wanted to do was touch his lips.
Ji Chengnin smiled bitterly and shook his head, saying, "If my father knew in the afterlife that I had said such treasonous things, he would probably want to break my legs."
Cui Yao shook her head.
He was kneeling in front of Ji Chengning at some point, towering over the young marquis who was sitting on the ground.
It's an extremely convenient way to hug.
“Your Highness,” he said, his fingers seemingly twirling around Ji Chengning’s loose hair, round and round, gradually tightening, “If your father saw the state of the world, perhaps he would think the same as Your Highness.”
Ji Chengning was startled. He looked up abruptly, as if seeing Cui Yao for the first time.
But Cui Yao did not avoid his gaze. Instead, she knelt up straight and stared at him intently.
As if afraid that Ji Chengning couldn't see clearly, Cui Yao even considerately supported Ji Chengning's chin.
Their eyes met.
Under the moonlight, Cui Yao's eyes were exceptionally clear and bright.
Cui Yao's voice was extremely soft, yet extremely solemn.
"This is not the Crown Prince's fault, why make yourself suffer so much?"
Why torment yourself by taking the mistakes of emperors as examples?
Ji Chengning stared blankly at Cui Yao.
He didn't know if Cui Yao was trying to comfort him or was being sincere, but whether it was genuine or just empty talk, it made Ji Chengnin tremble slightly.
He suddenly felt a urge to both cry and laugh out loud.
In this vast world, among countless people, he should be extremely fortunate to have someone like the person before him who shares his heart and mind!
His eyes suddenly felt sore and tight. He cleared his throat as if to cover it up. The self-loathing and hesitation he had just felt gradually faded, but an even stranger feeling welled up inside him.
Ji Chengning instinctively tried to turn his head, but Cui Yao reacted quickly, clamping his jaw down with two fingers.
"You underestimate me." Ji Chengnin touched his nose. "Ayao, you go first..."
Let me go.
The implication is clear.
Cui Yao blinked. "I spent half the night in the cold wind with the young master. Now that the young master's mind has calmed down, do you intend to send me back to rest without saying a word?"
Ji Chengning found it amusing, knowing that Cui Yao was changing the subject and didn't want him to dwell on those heavy emotions for too long.
He relaxed his posture considerably, casually resting one hand on his knee, tilting his head to stare at Cui Yao indifferently.
"Then, A-Yao, what would you like me to give you as a thank you gift?"
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The author says: I'm currently on a medication-free period (praying). After stopping the medication, my hearing and vision have become incredibly sharp, and I feel like I'm alive again.
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