Chapter 65 The Crown Prince's defeat in battle; in the second year of the Zhenghe era, the Wei clan was exterminated…
Zheng He did not hand Huo Qubing the historical materials in public, but secretly slipped them into his hands. If the Five Barbarian Invasions were a tragedy for all people, then the fate of the Wei family was merely a calamity for the Wei family. The death of Crown Prince Liu Ju deprived the Han Dynasty of a successor who could recuperate and rebuild, but soon another Liu Bingyi was born.
Looking back at China's thousand-year history, there are very few emperors like Liu Che who were willful yet had someone to back them up, let alone those as lucky as him.
Lucky Pig, truly lives up to its name.
Huo Qubing was momentarily stunned by the historical materials sent by Zheng He.
How should I put it?
Zhu Yuanzhang was skeptical of what he said. Even though the old man with gray hair said that his nephew looked a lot like Huo Qubing and that he wouldn't lie, Huo Qubing didn't completely believe him.
It is believed that a person, especially a general, needs to be extremely cautious, and the outcome was far too tragic.
Are you ready?
Faced with the cruelest truth in the world.
Xiao Liu held Huo Qubing's hand and stopped following his movements. He looked up at his cousin in confusion. His cousin was tall and had made great military achievements. He was like an insurmountable mountain. The mountain was quiet and unshakable no matter how the wind and rain blew.
However, it wasn't until he saw the brokenness on Huo Qubing's face after he picked up that piece of paper that he understood.
It can break your heart in just a moment.
Huo Qubing slowly unfolded the paper. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the ink marks with exquisite detail—
In the second year of the Zhenghe era, the Wei clan was exterminated.
[After his rebellion failed, the Crown Prince committed suicide in Quanjiu Village.]
The emperor's great-grandson has fallen ill and is living among the common people.
There was also a line of small characters on the corner of the paper: "However, fifty years after the witchcraft case, Emperor Xuan of Han, Liu Bingyi, revived the Han Dynasty."
This might have been a consolation from Zheng He, but it couldn't ease Huo Qubing's heartbreak. The person he had feelings for and spent every day with was his cousin Liu Ju, not some unknown Liu Bingyi. The next emperor to restore the Han dynasty should have been Liu Ju!
From birth, Liu Ju carried the expectations of many. Countless eyes, both in the court and the public, were watching him, watching this child. Because he was the crown prince, he could never play as he pleased. Because he was the crown prince, he had to accept severe punishment for his mistakes. Because he was the crown prince, he also had to consider the emperor's feelings. Because he was the crown prince...
Huo Qubing's knuckles suddenly turned white.
For a fleeting moment, it was as if the invincible Marquis of Champion had been pierced through the chest by a sharp arrow. He saw the blood before the steps of Weiyang Palace, the scattered long hair of Empress Wei Zifu, and little Liu Ju—the child who would recite his lessons in the bitter cold and scorching heat—lying alone on a straw mat in a farmhouse.
"General Huo?" Zheng He handed over a cup of hot tea, the rising steam blurring the writing on the paper. "The tea won't taste good if it gets cold."
Huo Qubing looked up and noticed ink stains on Zheng He's sleeve, indicating that he had also been distracted while copying these documents. He suddenly understood the other's intention in telling him quietly—the Five Barbarian Invasions were a tragedy for all people, and their fate was merely an insignificant bloodstain in the long river of history.
Not many people care.
"Thank you." Huo Qubing stuffed the note into his pocket, looked at Xiao Liuju who was obediently holding his hand, and a resolute smile appeared on his lips: "But Huo Qubing has never believed in fate."
Suddenly, the sunlight shone brightly, making his armor gleam. As if sensing this, Xiao Liu looked up and smiled at him, a smile as radiant as the brightest spring sunshine in Chang'an.
"Cousin, let's go together."
Little Liu can't wait to go play with Zhuge Liang! No need to memorize anything, and he'll have playmates to play with.
Happiness^_^
Huo Qubing took Liu Ju's chubby hand and said, "Yes, let's do it together."
Their hands were clasped tightly together, as if they would never be separated.
As Jiang Ge watched the two walk away hand in hand, he couldn't help but say to Zheng He, "I don't know why, but I feel a little sad watching this scene."
Still feeling sad?
Beside him, Kui Shun was already in tears. His rough fingers gripped the thin piece of paper tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. This yamen runner, who usually stood straight, was now hunched over, as if all the strength had been suddenly drained from his body. Tears silently streamed down his dark face, gathering into beads on his chin before slamming onto the glaring words "December 29th, the eleventh year of Shaoxing."
Zheng He lit three bombs today; one went off, one went silent, and the remaining one turned into a □□.
When Kui Shun cried, he didn't make a sound; his eyes just reddened and he silently shed tears. He was crying for Yue Fei.
"December 29th, the eleventh year of Shaoxing..."
His lips trembled slightly, and the voice that uttered the date was so soft it was almost inaudible, yet it seemed as if he had used all his strength.
He still remembers the snowstorm of that day clearly.
It rarely snows this heavily in Lin'an in winter, but on that particular day, the cold wind whipped up snowflakes like goose feathers, covering the entire city in a ghastly white. Under the cover of night, he sneaked into the Dali Temple and carried Yue Fei's body on his back. The general's armor was still stained with blood that hadn't dried, icy cold, yet it seemed to retain the last trace of warmth.
He remembered kneeling in the snow, using his frozen fingers to carefully dig through the frost to bury Yue Fei's body. He remembered leaving nothing behind when he buried General Yue.
And now, this piece of paper says in a casual, understated way—
"He was exonerated twenty years later."
Twenty years.
It took a full twenty years for General Yue's injustice to be redressed.
Why does it take so long to clear someone's name?
Why do good people not live long?
Why was the emperor deceived by treacherous officials?
For the first time, this lowly yamen runner had a question in his mind: Everyone says that the emperor is a born saint. He controls the world and has everything, but why can't he even distinguish right from wrong?
Clearly... clearly everyone in the world knows this.
The people of the whole country know of Yue Fei's injustice; teahouses and taverns in Lin'an still dare not use the character "Qin" in their signs; and old farmers in the fields still enshrine Yue Fei's memorial tablet in their homes—yet the person sitting on the throne in the Golden Palace hears...
These sounds are not heard.
The kneeling statue of Qin Hui was cast more than three hundred years after Yue Fei's death, but could General Yue's spirit still see it at that time?
Kui Shun's tears fell, and he haphazardly stuffed the papers into his pocket before turning and leaving, as if he had made up his mind.
He wanted justice to come sooner, so that if General Yue's spirit were still alive, he could witness that day. He wasn't a smart man and had no way to help, but there were many smart people in Songyang County who would surely find a way.
As long as you take action, there will always be a way.
Zheng He and Jiang Ge watched Kui Shun leave, and Zheng He couldn't help but sigh, "If only there were more people like him in this world."
Know what is right and wrong.
Zheng He thought he was just imagining things. After all, for people who couldn't even get enough to eat, they needed to read books to understand right from wrong and to be reasonable.
Education costs money, so how could farming families afford to support their children's education?
People are struggling to get enough to eat these days, so how can we talk about studying and understanding principles?
This is really putting the people in a difficult position.
Jiang Ge stood to the side, her gaze deep: "This has always been the way of the world. Loyal and righteous people are wronged, while treacherous and wicked people gain power." Her voice was soft, but carried an undeniable firmness, "But there will always be people who remember."
There will always be someone who remembers the word "fairness".
The two did not linger for long before hurrying off to work.
These days, the mornings in Songyang County are much more lively. The morning breeze carries a hint of coolness, gently brushing against her cheeks and sweeping away the fatigue of the previous night.
The cobblestone path was still damp with night dew, feeling slightly cool underfoot. Jiang Ge slowed her pace, savoring the moist sensation beneath her feet. She remembered when she first arrived in Songyang County, these cobblestone paths were overgrown with weeds and littered with trash, but now they were spotless thanks to the people's efforts in cleaning them. The branches of trees lining the road swayed gently in the morning breeze, casting dappled shadows.
Turn the corner.
The hustle and bustle of the morning market swept over her. Jiang Ge stood at the alley entrance, watching the market gradually awaken before her, a smile unconsciously playing on her lips. She remembered when she first took office, the morning market in Songyang County had only three or five vendors selling coarse grains and wild vegetables; the people were pale and thin, lacking even the strength to haggle. Now, however, it was a completely different scene—
"Freshly baked sesame seed cakes!"
"The shepherd's purse was just picked, so tender you could squeeze water out of it!"
"Freshly ground soy milk is sweeter than honey!"
Amidst the rising and falling cries of vendors, the steam rising from the uncovered steamers formed golden beams of light in the morning sun. Long queues had already formed in front of the breakfast stalls; the people, though simply dressed, had rosy complexions and chatted and laughed. Several men carrying farm tools stood in front of a sesame seed cake stall, waiting for breakfast while loudly discussing this year's wheat harvest.
"Your Excellency!"
Old Zhang, the soy milk vendor, had sharp eyes and spotted Jiang Ge from afar. He hurriedly lifted the lid of his wooden bucket, revealing the thick, white soy milk inside. The wrinkles on the old man's face smoothed out, and he smiled like a blooming chrysanthemum: "Same as always, I left you the top layer of soy skin! I also added a soft-boiled egg today, my wife specifically asked me to."
Jiang Ge smiled and waved his hand: "Uncle Zhang, I'm not busy with official business today. You can go ahead with your business, there's no need to..."
"That won't do!" Old Zhang had already deftly ladled out a bowl of soy milk, with a golden poached egg floating on the snow-white soy skin, looking quite appealing. "If the adults hadn't taught us how to make soy milk, I still wouldn't have enough to eat!"
Seeing this, Aunt Wang, the owner of the pancake stall next to him, quickly wrapped two freshly baked meat pies in oil paper, neatly arranged, and insisted on stuffing them into Jiang Ge's hands. "Sir, please try some. The meat filling is especially fragrant today. My son specially cut this meat for me while he was working at the brick kiln. It's delicious, please try some!"
Jiang Ge couldn't refuse, so she had to accept. The meat pie felt heavy in her hand, and she could still feel its fresh-baked heat through the oil paper. She lowered her head and sniffed it; the aroma was enticing, and it was indeed much more fragrant than the ones she had eaten before.
"No, this is far too expensive..."
"Of course, of course!" Aunt Wang smiled so much that the wrinkles around her eyes gathered, and she wiped her rough fingers on her apron. "If it weren't for you running the brick kiln, I don't know where my son would be going. Now he has a stable job, so he can get married and live a good life. I'm content with that."
Such a life was something I never dared to dream of before; what a wonderful life it is.
Jiang Ge had no choice but to take out his money pouch, but Aunt Wang grabbed his hand and said, "If you give us money, it means you look down on us common folk!"
Seeing this, the surrounding vendors all gathered around. Granny Chen, who sells vegetables, stuffed a handful of tender shepherd's purse into her basket without saying a word; the leaves were still covered with morning dew; the young apprentice from the winery squeezed through the crowd and insisted on tying a pot of newly brewed sweet osmanthus wine around her waist; even Old Zhou, the usually taciturn bamboo craftsman on the street corner, silently handed her a newly woven fine bamboo basket, so exquisitely crafted that you could see the grain of each bamboo strip.
Django was both amused and exasperated by the enthusiastic response, and her hands kept receiving more and more things until her basket was full. Just as she was about to speak, she suddenly heard a clear, crisp sound of a copper bell coming from afar.
"Make way, make way! Fresh fish and shrimp have arrived at the market!"
The crowd parted automatically to make way, revealing five or six strong men pushing several modified water carts loaded with dozens of wooden buckets, from which fish and shrimp splashed and leaped. Leading the way was Zhao Da, the fishmonger, his dark face beaming with pride.
"Greetings, sir!" Zhao Da stopped and bowed upon seeing Jiang Ge. "This morning's catch includes your favorite perch, which has already been sent to the county government kitchen."
Django nodded his thanks: "Did you catch all these fish?"
"These were all caught in the Songyang River, and the fish from Maiziwang are quite plump." He said, scooping a large, lively carp from the bucket. "This one is for the adults to try too!"
Django quickly waved her hand, "That's enough, that's enough, I can't carry any more." She held up the already full basket to indicate that, which drew good-natured laughter from the surrounding people.
After bidding farewell to the enthusiastic vendors at the morning market, Jiang Ge continued along the main street. Turning a corner, the view suddenly opened up – what had once been a desolate wasteland was now transformed into neat rows of shops. At the entrance of a cloth shop, several women were selecting newly arrived silks; the clanging of hammers echoed from the blacksmith's shop as apprentices forged new farm tools; the busiest spot was the brick kiln registration area, where a long queue of workers waited to sign up.
Zheng He was busy there, and Jiang Ge, not wanting to disturb him, quietly left.
Passing by the clinic, she made a point of going in for a look. The doctor, Dr. Wu, was taking a child's pulse when he saw Jiang Ge enter and quickly stood up.
"No need for formalities," Jiang Ge waved his hand. "What's wrong with the little one?"
"It's just a slight cold, nothing serious," Doctor Wu said with a smile. "This child is very healthy, there's nothing to worry about."
As long as you can eat your fill, your health will generally be pretty good.
The child's mother repeatedly expressed her gratitude: "If it weren't for Magistrate Jiang, families like ours would still be starving, let alone have the money to see a doctor."
Jiang Ge was not used to such enthusiasm, so he went into the inner room to take a look at Wu Shifu, who was still unconscious.
It's good to be asleep, so as not to say too many unnecessary things.
Stepping out of the clinic, Jiang Ge's stomach rumbled. She then remembered the food she'd collected that morning, so she sat down on a stone bench by the roadside and opened the oil paper package. The meat pie was still warm; one bite, and the juices immediately filled her mouth, fragrant but not greasy. The soy milk, though cold, still had a rich soy flavor, and the poached egg had a perfectly runny yolk.
As she ate, she observed the passersby on the street. Vendors greeted customers warmly, yet there was no hard selling; farmers carried their new tools out of town, their steps light and quick; several women strolled together, their laughter clear and pleasant. What pleased her even more was that the streets were much cleaner, and the people were consciously maintaining environmental hygiene, no longer needing the supervision of officials.
It was just an ordinary day, but Django's heart was filled with happiness.
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Author's note: [doge] I felt so good writing this chapter ^_^ Thank you everyone for your support, thank you so much.
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