Chapter 74 Chapter 74 is the only authentic version...
In the previous life, Prime Minister Song died in July.
But now, his forehead is shrouded in a very strong aura of death. For some unknown reason, his death has come early.
Gu Zhizhuo took out the compass and made careful calculations.
From the direction of the stage came the melodious sound of stringed instruments, and a voice as pure as a clear spring rang out, soft and graceful. The theater became quiet, leaving only the singing voice that seemed to want to express her feelings but was also angry.
The magnetic needle stopped at a certain position.
"Yellow Springs hexagram, very bad luck."
Gu Zhizhuo supported his chin with his palm.
A few days ago, she had wondered if Prime Minister Song had survived, and if he would have abandoned the emperor and chosen a new ruler for the sake of Daqi. But today, something terrible had happened.
She raised her eyes and looked at Xie Yingchen: "Sir, if Prime Minister Song died, the situation would change drastically, right?"
"right."
Prime Minister Song was like a magic needle that stabilized the sea, keeping the shaky court in a relatively balanced state.
If Prime Minister Song died suddenly, the court would inevitably be in chaos or even collapse.
Rationally speaking, destruction is more conducive to reconstruction.
but.
If the court is not at peace and government policies are not implemented, it means that the people who are struggling to survive will have a harder time.
Xie Yingchen lowered his eyelashes, sighed, and asked, "Can he be saved?"
"I don't know." Gu Zhizhuo shook his head. "The hexagram is too ominous. There's no chance of survival."
Moreover, judging from the experience of Qin Chen and Ah Man, once a death calamity comes, one must rise to the occasion and survive.
There is no use in interfering.
The death of Prime Minister Song was the will of heaven.
In his previous life, after Prime Minister Song's death, chaos reigned in the imperial court. As a result, after the Qingzhou earthquake, no one was left to manage the situation, resulting in the deaths of tens of thousands of people. Later, Xie Jing and Ji Nanke rushed to provide disaster relief. After that mission, Xie Jing entered the Eastern Palace and became the crown prince.
"This young master."
A rather slick man knocked on the sash window and, grinning, handed in a black tray with two wooden signs on it. One had the word "Zhao" written on it, and the other had the word "Gong" written on it.
"Would you like to place a bet?"
Gu Zhizhuo asked, "What are you betting on?"
"Of course, it depends on who can get Qingyi and kiss her today. Is it this one..." His finger landed on the word "Zhao", "or this one..."
Gu Zhizhuo didn't quite understand what was said, but seeing that there were already a lot of small change, silver notes, and copper coins laid out on the table, he must have walked through most of the theater.
"No bet."
Xie Yingchen's eyes were gloomy.
The atmosphere in the capital city must be regulated to prevent her from hearing all sorts of messy and dirty things outside.
The man did not insist. Seeing that the two men looked rich or noble, he bowed repeatedly and left, then went to the next room.
"Sir, would you like to place a bet..."
The sound came from far away.
"Sir, I'd like to borrow Qin Chen."
Gu Zhizhuo said this and hooked his finger at Qin Chen. Qin Chen came closer and said eagerly, "Miss Gu, what do you want me to do?"
"Go and keep an eye on it first, don't let them find out."
"Just staring?"
Qin Chen was a little disappointed. He was still thinking about whether he should beat Xie Jing up and then rescue Prime Minister Song.
"Remember that time on Suzaku Street?" Gu Zhizhuo reminded him, "Live towards death."
She fiddled with the compass and said calmly, "Don't take action unless it's an instant death situation."
Qin Chen understood. He solemnly clasped his fists in response and walked out.
He had just paid special attention to the footsteps. The box that Prime Minister Song entered should be two rooms away from theirs. Qin Chen stared at the one at the corner, turned his foot, and hid silently beside the pillar. The shadow cast by the pillar just blocked his shadow.
"Prime Minister, you are late. You must drink three cups as punishment."
A heroic voice laughed heartily, and Qin Chen carefully opened the window a crack and looked inside.
In addition to Xie Jing and Prime Minister Song, there was also Duke Weiguo in the box. Duke Weiguo had obviously been there for some time, and the small dish of pine nuts in front of him was less than half empty.
"I can't drink anymore." Prime Minister Song waved his hand, unmoved, "I'm old now, and the doctor said I should drink less from now on."
Duke Wei filled the glass, as if not noticing his refusal, and said with a smile, "This is Fengqu wine. I spent a lot of effort to get it. It's very strong. Brother, you like strong liquor the most, so don't say you can't handle it."
Prime Minister Song sniffed his nose, and a strong smell of wine came to his nose. The wine was mellow and rich. Duke Weiguo specially used a white jade cup to hold the wine. The wine was a light golden color when poured into the cup. Under the midday sun, it looked like flowing gold.
Prime Minister Song's throat moved. He couldn't imagine how much joy in life would be if he could have a drink.
Prime Minister Song was not so fond of drinking before.
It was more than 20 years ago, when he had just entered the officialdom and was appointed as the magistrate of a small county in the south. It was very damp and cold there, and he stayed there for six years. He contracted rheumatism, and whenever it rained, he felt terribly painful between his bones. The locals all loved to drink strong liquor, so he followed suit. Over time, his alcohol tolerance gradually increased.
Now that the doctor won't allow it, he has no choice but to abstain for some time.
It was okay if he didn't smell it normally, but as soon as he smelled the aroma of wine, his mouth and tongue became dry. He couldn't help but wrinkle his nose again. The rich smell of wine rushed into his nasal cavity, and Prime Minister Song squinted his eyes in intoxication.
"You are always dithering."
Duke Weiguo drank it all in one gulp, spilling a few drops of golden wine. Prime Minister Song winced in pain and couldn't help but curse, "Like a cow drinking water, wasting nature's gift."
The Duke of Wei laughed out loud: "Wine brings me joy. That's a blessing."
"Hey, brother, which doctor is forbidding you from drinking this time? You're good at everything except looking ahead and behind. Aren't you tired?"
This is very meaningful.
Prime Minister Song picked up his chopsticks, picked up a fried peanut and put it in his mouth. The salty and fragrant peanuts slightly satisfied his craving.
The Duke of Wei, who had been in the court for so many years, seemed less and less like a military man. He was clearly referring to himself, having submitted a proposal for the succession, only to change his mind at the last minute.
To be honest, he didn't want to.
The presence of a crown prince is a sign of great prosperity.
He will have to retire in a few years. The current emperor is in poor condition, and Prime Minister Song hopes that at least the new emperor can do something. However, the third prince... the third prince really does not give him any hope.
He didn't want the country to be in turmoil and war to break out during his lifetime.
Prime Minister Song pretended not to understand and pushed the wine cup away helplessly: "No, no, I am old and want to live a few more years. I can't disobey the doctor's advice."
Xie Jing sat by the window, dressed in a dark gilded robe. His bony hands held a closed folding fan, a proper smile on his face. He looked like a graceful and elegant gentleman, neither impatient nor anxious. In reality, he didn't understand the other's witticisms at all.
Seeing that the Prime Minister was unwilling to drink, he took the initiative to pour him tea.
"I have worked hard all my life, and now I regret not doing it anymore..." The Qingyi actress on the stage sang gracefully, her sleeves brushing her face, and she shed tears.
“Well sung!”
The Duke of Wei praised him: "The purpose of life is to live for one's wife, children, and grandchildren. Brother, don't you agree?"
"Your little grandson may be a bit naughty, but he has extraordinary talent. It's a pity that he has only just turned fifteen. By the time you retire, he won't even be an adult. Tell me, if no one helps him, his career will be difficult."
Prime Minister Song picked up the teacup and gently skimmed the tea foam with the tea lid. The clear green tea soup was reflected in his pupils.
At that time, he was worried that Gongzi Chen would stir up trouble in the court after his return, so he thought about it again and again before submitting the memorial to establish a crown prince.
However, he underestimated Gongzi Chen.
Prince Chen attached great importance to Da Qi. Like the late emperor and the deposed crown prince, he took the overall situation into consideration and put Da Qi first.
After he returned to Beijing, he went from being silent at first, to leaving the palace, and then stepping into the throne room. There was no bloodshed, and he did not try to shake the foundation of the country. Instead, he let the emperor "take the initiative" to release him from the palace and lift all overt control.
The goal was achieved calmly.
That day, when Prince Chen stepped onto the throne room, Prime Minister Song seemed to see the peerless prince of the past.
With Xie Yingchen's example, Prime Minister Song now looked down on the Third Prince even more. This wasn't his fault.
Prime Minister Song laughed and said, "Procrastination has its own advantages. The Duke of Wei's cultivation of his character is getting worse and worse."
The merit of following a dragon lies in, first, choosing the dragon, second, making the contribution, and third, whether the dragon can leap over the dragon gate.
Throughout the dynasties, those who took sides early on mostly suffered a bad ending, and their entire family was often wiped out.
"Of course I can't compare to you, Brother Song."
The two exchanged sharp words for a few rounds. The Duke of Wei's face turned grim, and he cursed "old bastard" in his heart. He drank the wine in his cup in one gulp and then said something bluntly: "Brother Song, I see that the Third Young Master has great ambitions, but he's young and inexperienced. He needs the help of us old guys. What do you say?"
"A wise ruler and virtuous ministers, a wonderful story!"
These words spoken in front of the Third Prince sounded somewhat coercive.
Prime Minister Song felt that he had done something stupid today.
He smiled noncommittally, picked up the wine jug, and filled himself with wine. The aroma of the wine made his mouth water.
He drank it all in one gulp.
The wine is extremely strong. When you drink it, it feels like a burning fire, flowing from the root of the tongue all the way down, and then a rich aftertaste lingers between the lips and teeth.
Good wine!
Prime Minister Song secretly praised him.
"Brother, this wine is not bad, is it?" Duke Weiguo laughed and poured him more wine.
After another drink, Prime Minister Song was already a little tipsy. He waved his hands and said, "No, no, I'm getting old."
"Brother, why are you being so modest? Third Young Master..."
Prime Minister Song, reeking of alcohol, said, "Having ambition isn't enough. If you fly too high and too fast, you'll break your wings."
After saying that, he drank another glass. After this glass, his lower abdomen began to feel slightly hot, and it hurt as if his internal organs were being tightly tightened by a hot force.
"Old bastard!" Duke Weiguo cursed inwardly. He was clearly saying that the Third Prince was incapable of being a ruler. And he was saying it while drunk. When he sobered up, he could pretend nothing had happened.
If the Third Prince had the ability to be a ruler, why would he be so busy? He said he wanted a new emperor like the current one. He didn't understand that! Xie Jing remained calm. He wasn't bothered at all by the Prime Minister's taunts. Gu Zhizhuo's words were far more venomous, and he would often tell him to jump into the water, throw off a horse, or commit suicide. He'd been tortured so much that his mental endurance had improved considerably.
"Don't worry, Duke."
Xie Jing poured wine for them and said with a smile, "The Prime Minister has his considerations. I am still young and have not yet entered the court. I really don't know if I can shoulder such a heavy responsibility."
"I heard that the Third Young Master is here."
A hearty voice sounded in the corridor, and then the door of the box was pushed open from the outside.
The person who came in was a man in his fifties, with a beard, a slightly dark complexion, and narrow eyes with a sinister look.
Prime Minister Song frowned when he saw it.
Duke Wei noticed it immediately and said quickly, "Brother Gong, how come I met you here?"
What he meant was that he was not the one who invited the person.
"Come and listen to the music." Gong Hai sat down by himself. The Qingyi on the stage was covering her face with her sleeves, and she looked back with a radiant look.
He exclaimed, "Great!" and then teased, "These actors have been practicing martial arts since they were young, and their bodies are incredibly flexible. This feeling, wow, even decent people can't compare... Third Young Master, would you like to try it? Your eldest sister has tried it too."
Xie Jing's face suddenly turned red, and the fingertips holding the folding fan turned a little white.
Gong Hai pounded the eight-immortals table and laughed out loud.
"Don't talk nonsense." Duke Wei hated his vulgarity the most. "The Third Young Master is still here."
"A slip of the tongue."
Having said that, there was no apology on Xihai's face.
Prime Minister Song was unwilling to pay attention. He stood up and said unhappily, "I have something else to do. I'll leave first."
"Why did the Prime Minister leave? You left as soon as I arrived. And you haven't even had a drink yet."
Gong Hai said this and took the initiative to pour the wine and handed it over.
"Brother Song, I invited you to drink. I'll drink on your behalf." Duke Weiguo wanted to raise his hand to take it, but Gong Hai directly stuffed the wine cup into Prime Minister Song's hand.
Prime Minister Song looked at him coldly, then suddenly raised his head and finished the wine.
He threw the jade wine cup casually, and it fell onto the Eight Immortals Table and rolled around.
"Good alcohol tolerance."
Gong Hai applauded and praised.
Prime Minister Song flicked his sleeves, snorted disdainfully, turned around and walked out.
“You!”
Duke Wei glared at Gong Hai, saying that he had already made the man angry and they hadn't even discussed their business yet.
"Third Master, why don't you send the Prime Minister out?"
Xie Jing stood up and followed him out.
"Song...Uncle Song." He called out.
Prime Minister Song stood at the front of the stairs, looking back and waiting for him for a while. After several glasses of wine, his lower abdomen felt like it was on fire, burning with pain, and his brows couldn't help but twist together.
In a moment, Prime Minister Song's forehead was covered with fine, dense cold sweat, and a fishy and sweet taste uncontrollably surged out of his throat, accompanied by severe pain in his stomach, and a large amount of blood spurted out.
The hall below was filled with audiences, all engrossed in the story, when they felt a splash of water on their face. One of the audience members reached up to touch it, his face turning pale with fear. He opened his mouth, his throat heaving, and finally uttered a sound: "Blood!"
More people also noticed it. They touched the blood splattered on their cheeks and arms, and looked up tremblingly. What caught their eyes was Prime Minister Song covered in blood.
"Murder!"
Screams rang out one after another.
The waiter was also shocked.
But since he was working in the East Factory's base, he was naturally no ordinary waiter. Frightened, he quickly ran to report.
The Prime Minister spat out another mouthful of blood, his eyes went dark, and then his feet went weak and he fell down the stairs.
"Prime Minister!"
Xie Jing screamed in fear and pounced forward, but a green figure was one step faster than him and held Prime Minister Song firmly.
Qin Chen grabbed the man and ran to the box.
"Stop."
Xie Jing came to his senses and shouted loudly. His hands and feet were a little weak, but he still chased after him regardless.
"stop!"
When Prime Minister Song left, he had to pass by the box where Gu Zhizhuo was, so she knew it early on. When there was a commotion outside, she ran out and directly grabbed the Prime Minister's wrist.
Xie Jing finally caught up with Qin Chen and was about to call out to him when his voice got stuck in his throat. "You, you, why are you here?"
"I don't have time for you."
Gu Zhizhuo said perfunctorily and looked at the large pools of blood on the ground.
The blood is bright red, a particularly bright red.
Prime Minister Song had lost consciousness. The blood he vomited out blocked his airway, and he was coughing unconsciously, coughing up some blood with each cough.
Gu Zhizhuo took out the needle bag, took out a silver needle and inserted it into his throat. Song Shoufu finally breathed back. But his breath was extremely weak, almost imperceptible.
"Is it, is it poisoning?" Qin Chenxiang looked at Xie Jing and couldn't help asking.
"No, it's a relapse of an old illness."
She let go of her hand that was checking her pulse and ordered, "Qin Chen, carry the person in first!"
The string music stopped at some point, and Qingyi stood on the stage at a loss.
The Xiangxi Opera House was in chaos.
Some theatergoers had already run out of the theater out of fear, shouting things like "Murder!" and "Go report to the police!" This attracted many curious people on the street who were looking in. They had no idea what was going on, and the place was filled with noisy noises.
An old Taoist priest walked through the noisy crowd.
He had white hair and a youthful face, and was built strong and strong. He wore the most ordinary blue cloth Taoist robe with wide sleeves. His silver hair was tied into a bun with a wooden hairpin, and was half loose and half combed on his shoulders.
As he walked, his Taoist robe fluttered in the wind, and the people surrounding the incense theater couldn't help but make way for him on both sides.
"Master, the incense theater is right here." The man who brought him here was a man in his forties. He said with tears of gratitude, "Thank you so much, Master, for saving my mother. I wonder what your name is?"
"I am a poor Taoist."
As he spoke, he stepped into the Xiangxi Opera House, and a strong smell of blood lingered in his nose.
Most of the theatergoers in the hall had already run away, and the remaining brave ones ran to the second floor to take a look.
Wuweizi raised his eyes and looked towards the second floor, as if thinking about something.
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