Chapter 1 Chapter 1 In the summer of the twelfth year of Shunde, Prime Minister Song...
The summer of the twelfth year of Shunde.
The chief minister Song Zhun died of illness and was liquidated by the emperor after his death.
Their posthumous titles were stripped, their official positions were taken away, and the descendants of the Song family were imprisoned, with more than half of them dead or injured.
"Aren't you awake yet?"
A young boy with a withered and thin face, covered in wounds, and wearing coarse linen clothes, was holding a large bowl and staring at the woman on the bed with a nervous look on his face.
Song Mian was awakened from his trance. The musty smell of rotting grass and trees filled his nose, and an unfamiliar scene appeared before his eyes.
Traveled through time?
Her heart tightened, and she closed her eyes and tried to die again, preferably returning to the modern era.
"Sister, wake up..."
"My sister died again!"
Song Mian listened to the boy's crying voice and pressed her painful eyebrows. She opened her eyes and said in a hoarse voice, "I'm fine, don't cry."
"Very good!"
When the boy saw her open her eyes, he quickly wiped his tears and came over with a coarse earthenware bowl to feed her water.
Song Mian was indeed thirsty. She held the ceramic bowl and drank water, observing her surroundings calmly.
A dark thatched hut with a broken wooden bench and bed inside. Nothing else. This seemed to be a poor family, but...
Song Mian looked at his slender and fair hands and felt that it was not quite the same.
At this time, there were faint voices coming from outside the door.
"If it weren't for Sister Mian today, you would have died long ago. She hasn't woken up yet, and I don't know if she can make it through the night!"
"Your eldest brother is gone, and you, Song Fuxue, are now the pillar of our Song family. Even if you don't want to think about your dead father, eldest brother, and younger brothers, and for the sake of Sister Mian's risking her life to save you, please don't commit suicide again!"
The old woman's voice grew louder and louder, and at last she seemed to become agitated, banging loudly on the ground with her cane.
This is the voice of my original great-grandmother.
As for Song Fuxue, he was her father. According to the memory obtained by Song Mian, because he saw him committing suicide by jumping into a well, his original body rushed over to push him away in a hurry, but accidentally fell into the well himself.
She was a teenage girl who was dying after being rescued and ultimately did not survive...
Song Mian endured the headache, but couldn't help wondering in his heart, what kind of misfortune had happened to this family that so many people died?
"My grandson knows his mistake! He will never commit suicide again. Please don't let your anger ruin your health..."
Following this crying male voice, the old lady also started crying, and even the young boy next to Song Mian started crying as well.
After a long while, the noise outside gradually died down, and the little boy stopped crying. He just shed tears quietly, which was really heartbreaking to watch.
Song Mian reached out and touched his head. Based on his original body's memory, he called out softly, "Zhuo Ge'er?"
"Sister..." Song Zhuo sobbed.
"I can't remember a lot of things after I fell into the water. It gives me a headache every time I think about it. Can you tell me how my grandfather and uncle died?"
As he spoke, Song Mian lowered his head and pretended to wipe away his tears.
Although she had regained her original body's memories, there was too much information and she had a severe headache. It would be best if she could get the information without having to think about it.
When she cried, the young boy became strong.
Song Zhuo wiped away his tears and said, "Grandfather died of illness in March this year."
"I heard from my father and third uncle that before the 100-day mourning period had even ended after my grandfather's death, the emperor bared his fangs and began to liquidate and confiscate our property, and even imprisoned us all..."
Song Zhuo imitated his father and said indignantly, "The emperor was so sure that my grandfather would be the Prime Minister for ten years that the beams in our house are made of gold."
"The Jinyiwei couldn't find the money, so they tortured me to extract a confession. Many of the elderly and weak in my family died or were injured!"
Speaking of this, Song Zhuo choked up again, as if recalling the scene of that day.
"My eldest uncle and my younger uncle committed suicide to find a way out for us, which alerted the court officials..."
"Later, we were released and moved here." Song Zhuo said while wiping away tears. "My father wanted to jump into the well that morning, and my sister fell into the well to save him. It took a lot of effort to pull him out..."
The more Song Mian listened, the more frightened he became.
When Song Zhuo stopped, she couldn't help but ask tentatively, "Grandfather...Song Zhun?"
Seeing Song Zhuo nod, Song Mian suddenly understood that it seemed that she had traveled back to a historical dynasty.
The more she listened to these plots, the more familiar they sounded. She knew this history—
Song Zhun, a famous prime minister and an honest and upright official in history, saved enough silver and grain for Daliang for more than ten years. After his death, Emperor Shunde was defeated in just three years.
Without Song Zhun, the pillar of support, Emperor Shunde was like a wild horse that had broken free from its reins. He indulged himself in women, cultivating immortality, and violence, and he plundered the people's wealth and women for his own selfish reasons.
Three years later, the vassal king Duan Qingming rose up in rebellion and came all the way from the north. He was unstoppable and captured the imperial capital. Shunde Emperor Duan Qingfeng was skinned and stuffed with straw to be used as a sacrifice to his ancestors.
The Song family’s grievances were finally cleared from that day on.
Song Mian quickly counted on his fingers, three years before and three years after, that means after another six years of hard times, he would be able to get out of this difficult time!
I can still survive! I can endure!
Just six years, nothing to worry about.
She was in a daze when she heard another shrill and hoarse male voice, which turned into a heart-wrenching cough a moment later.
"Father always taught us to be loyal to the emperor and patriotic, but what did Emperor Shunde do? He even wanted to open the coffin and mutilate the body! A great favor turned into a great hatred! Where is justice! Where is justice!"
Song Mian sorted out his thoughts, then forced himself to get up and wanted to go take a look next door.
Song Zhuo quickly supported her arm and took her to the east room.
She felt dizzy and almost fell down. She looked outside at the sky. It was hazy and not yet bright.
The hut seemed even more cramped and dark.
Song Mian stood at the door and watched. The man's complexion was pale and his expression was listless. His half-exposed chest was covered with deep whip wounds, mixed with blood and pus, and a paste of herbs that had just been picked from the ground. It was a horrible sight.
He half-supported himself and pounded the bed, his face full of sadness and resentment.
At the end of his bed, his third uncle Song Zhenge did the same.
Song Mian had never seen such bloody and tragic injuries. She walked into the room and sat on the small stool at the head of the bed.
"Dad?" she called out tentatively.
"Mianmian, you're awake!" Song Fuxue was overjoyed. He looked at her and found that although she looked tired and her face was pale, she was in good spirits.
"Third Uncle." Song Mian called again.
"It's good that you're awake! It's good that you're awake!" Song Zhenge's face was full of care, and there was finally a hint of smile on his sad and depressed face.
"Mianmian, it's Daddy's fault..."
Song Fuxue held her daughter's hand and said, "No matter how hard or difficult it is in the future, Dad will never commit suicide again. You must be well."
"Zhuo'er, your sister has woken up. Have you gone to tell the ancestors the good news?"
"I'll go right away!"
Song Zhuo turned around and ran out.
Song Mian, who stayed in the room, asked the two people about their injuries in a gentle voice before walking out of the room.
As soon as I stepped out of the hut, I saw an eighty-year-old white-haired old lady walking towards me with the help of Song Zhuo, leaning on a crutch.
"Sister Mian... Oh, my sister Mian has suffered..." She held Song Mian's hand and started crying again.
Song Mian thought of her deceased grandmother and couldn't help but shed tears.
"Don't cry, we will all be fine in the future."
In this way, Song Mian rested for a few days under the care of everyone, and his body finally recovered.
That day, she saw that the yard was full of lush weeds. Taking advantage of the fact that the sun had just risen and it was not too hot to work, Song Mian bent down and pulled out the weeds.
"Sister Mian, go and rest, I'll do it."
A woman with scars all over her face walked out from the main room. It was my aunt Wenlan.
Ever since her uncle hanged himself, she used a small stick to stab him diagonally from her brow to her face, giving up all thoughts and staying in the Song family to raise their young son Song Chi.
Song Mian had a complicated expression. According to his memory and what he saw, the Song family was full of loyal and brave people. Unfortunately, Emperor Shunde was incompetent, gullible and cruel.
She knew that in history, the northern Tatars had repeatedly marched south to plunder, and even broke through the defense lines and approached the capital. The former emperor advocated peace, and Song Zhun, who had not yet become the prime minister, was filled with anger.
When he became an official, he realized that the national treasury was empty and he had no money, which made him even more angry.
Later, he became the Prime Minister, and the first thing he did was to raise money and prepare the military. With him around, the God of War Xie Luzhi stayed in the position of general for ten years, fighting against Japanese pirates in the south and conquering the Tatars in the north.
This coordination between civil and military officials was also one of the evidences used by Emperor Shunde to accuse him of plotting treason.
But... the Song Zhun in Song Mian's memory studied traditional Confucianism and only wanted to assist the emperor.
He worked diligently and devoted all his energy to enrich the treasury of the Daliang Dynasty, but also earned the deep hatred of Emperor Shunde, with more than half of the Song family members killed or injured.
The descendants of the Song family even fought to the death when invaded by foreign races and finally died for their country.
Song Mian sighed deeply, thinking that her ancestors were far more literati than she had imagined.
Although he was weak, his spine had never been bent.
*
"Mianmian, come with me."
The old lady walked towards the kitchen tremblingly, leaning on a crutch.
No matter how long the road ahead is, someone has to cook the food.
Song Mian followed her forward and entered the kitchen. On the shelf were half a sack of refined rice, a jar of white flour, a basket of eggs, and a basket of vegetables.
"Yes, as long as there is food to sustain us for a while, that's all." The old lady smiled and joked, "This is all our belongings."
He spoke frankly, but couldn't help but tear up.
"I used to know these things, I'll teach you."
When the chief minister was young, in order to save money for his studies, he did everything himself and did all the farm work.
"Wenlan, come in and learn with me. Tell Zhuo'er and Chi'er to weed." The old lady said in a loud voice.
Wenlan went into the kitchen as she was told.
She looked at the earthen stove in front of her, a little confused, not knowing how to start.
In the past, when they ate, the maid would set the table and invite her in. Occasionally, she would go into the kitchen, but she would just take a look at the snacks and leave. I never paid attention to how she did it.
"First..." The old lady was about to say to clean the pot and add water, but when she saw that the water tank was empty, she sighed and said, "Clean the water tank first."
Song Mian glanced at the scar on her aunt's face and knew that it was inconvenient for her to see anyone. She took the wooden bucket and went out to draw water from the well.
She fetched water while Wenlan cleaned the big vat.
"I'll fill the vat with water. Otherwise, when it gets hot at noon, we won't be able to do this with our weak bodies."
Song Mian gave some instructions and went out again with the wooden barrel.
After carrying more than ten buckets back and forth, her legs were so weak from running that she finally felt satisfied.
Everything is ready, it's time to light a fire and cook.
The two looked at the earthen stove and looked at each other.
Song Mian tentatively took some soft wheat straw, lit it, stuffed it into the stove, and blew on it with his cheeks puffed out. Both of their faces and hands were covered with ash. It took a while for the fire to become prosperous.
"It's not difficult." Song Mian raised his chin and said proudly.
"Yes, the little cat will definitely not find it difficult." The old lady took out a handkerchief and handed it to her to wipe her face.
Song Mian smiled shyly.
Following the old lady's instructions, they cooked the porridge first. Then, while they were not paying attention, Song Mian pinched his fingertips, condensed a drop of spiritual spring water, and dripped it into the pot.
The thing that made her happiest since she traveled through time was that her spiritual spring also followed her. This spiritual spring can make plants grow better, food more delicious, and can also strengthen the body.
With this great treasure in hand, she finally gained confidence in improving her poor life in ancient times.
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