Chapter 112: How has the widower lived for the past fifteen years?
The enthronement of the Princess of Jin is a done deal and cannot be changed.
The imperial edict sent shockwaves through the court. For the courtiers, the possibility that the current Princess of Jin would become the future Crown Princess affected the power dynamics of the court. For the young ladies of the aristocratic families, they were filled with curiosity about this woman, who came from a humble background yet had captured the hearts of both Mr. Xie and the Prince of Jin.
I can't get in touch with her in person, but I heard that she is good friends with Ji Caibing. In the past two days, the cosmetics shop owned by Ji has been crowded with people.
Ji Caibing was busy counting money, worried about her. "I used to think Third Young Master Xie was difficult to get along with. Prince Jin may look like Wen Xu, but he's actually even more powerful. I've heard many aristocratic families curse him after drinking, saying he's ambitious, deceiving the emperor and bullying the officials, accumulating power ruthlessly, and calling him a Jade-faced Devil. Ah Ying, if you marry a man like that, I'm afraid you'll be bullied."
Cong Ying heard this but shook her head slightly: "No, he won't."
The wedding date was set before the twelfth lunar month. She would start her studies at Taiyi during the day and move back to Jisuyuan at night to prepare for the wedding.
Besides the 120 loads of betrothal gifts sent by the eldest princess, Princess Chun'an, Ji Caibing, and even Madam Xie each added a great deal of dowry to her. Nearly 300 boxes and crates filled the library, and at night, even without lighting a lamp, the room was illuminated by the brilliance of jewels and precious stones.
Cong Ying was sitting quietly in the middle, dressed in plain clothes, with her long hair like a black waterfall draped over her shoulders and down to her waist. She was writing a letter with her head down.
He wrote: From Sanlang himself.
Then she paused. Even though she was full of poetry and eloquence, she didn't know how to defend herself or how to comfort herself.
If you hold the pen for too long, the ink will drip onto the paper. When you take another piece of paper, the same thing will happen.
Cong Ying sighed and gave up, pushed the table away, walked to the window and fiddled with the charcoal brazier. He saw snow falling outside, rustling on the sparse bamboo leaves, making it quiet and deserted.
A layer of snow also fell on the Zhaoshi Baojian placed on the windowsill. She wiped it with her sleeve and saw her own face reflected in the mirror. She didn't know if it was her illusion, but it felt that the ancient mirror was brighter than before.
That night, Cong Ying had another dream all night long.
But she was not in this dream, it was like a living scroll slowly unfolding before her.
What caught my eye was the blood-stained city walls, blending with the dusky glow. Corpses littered the city walls and the surrounding ground, military flags tilted, and only smoke slowly rose. This was Yunjing, fresh from a bloody battle.
The victorious general reorganized his troops and set up camp outside the city, accompanied by elite cavalry who rode their horses into the city gate.
The vanguard officer shouted to the general, "The Shuobei Army will purge the emperor's court, save the emperor, and punish the traitors! All those who are not involved will retreat, and those who are treacherous and disloyal will be executed!"
The roars of the elite cavalry shook the heavens and the earth: "The treacherous and disloyal will be killed! The treacherous and disloyal will be killed!"
The general who was leading the team calmly turned around and looked back. Although he was wearing a helmet, scale armor, and his face was covered in blood, Cong Ying still recognized her Saburo at a glance.
To be precise, it is Sanlang in the dream and the King of Jin outside of himself.
Xie Xuanlan seized control of Yunjing with lightning speed, confiscating and detaining the Prince of Ying, the Prince of Huai, and other opposition forces. Princess Chun'an, escorted by Prince Consort Xuan, risked her life to escape Yunjing. Xie Xuanlan was in no hurry to pursue her, nor to enter the palace to see Emperor Fengqi. Instead, he reunited with the Xie clan members who had escaped the city, eager to see Congying.
His parents, brothers and sisters were all there, except Congying.
When he saw that he could no longer hide the truth, he learned from Prime Minister Xie that Cong Ying might have been killed by your lord.
Xie Xuanlan was shocked and could not believe it. He immediately ordered his elite troops to pursue in the direction of Xuzhou. After one day and two nights, they intercepted Princess Chun'an on a mountain road.
Princess Chun'an admitted to having killed Jiang Congying. Xie Xuanlan, overcome with hatred, chopped off her head with his sword, then vomited blood and fainted. His subordinates brought him back to Yunjing. He was feverish on the way, mumbling incessantly as if trapped in a nightmare, calling out Congying's name. After such a tormenting journey, he returned to Yunjing, barely breathing.
It was the Lord of the Crimson Cloud Crown who extended his life and handed him a letter left by Cong Ying.
The letter said that she was seriously injured and was rescued by the Lord of the Crown, who took her to a fairy mountain overseas to recuperate and reconstruct her family. They would meet again in fifteen years.
Xie Xuanlan's eyes were red, and he gritted his teeth and said that he didn't believe it, and forced the Lord of the Crimson Cloud Crown to take him to see her.
"If you kill me today, you will never see her again."
The Crimson Cloud Crown Lady used her whisk to push away his blade. "From now on, every year on this day, I will deliver a letter to her. Whether you want to wait or believe it is entirely up to you."
Xie Xuanlan had no choice.
He refused to believe this clumsy lie, yet he dared not give up this faint hope. His Ying never lied to him. What if, what if she was really alive? A mere fifteen years, he could afford to wait.
Of course, there were also times when he collapsed and despaired. If he accidentally found some clues or heard rumors that she was dead, Xie Xuanlan would suddenly have a fit, with his eyes red, his hair disheveled, and he would slash around with a knife, looking like a madman.
He pointed his sword at Prime Minister Xie, demanding to know why he had plotted against Ah Ying, and why, despite claiming to be the head of a noble clan, the Xie family couldn't protect his wife. No one had expected this father-son feud to ensnare them, and if Madam Xie hadn't intervened, Xie Xuanlan's sword would have been stained with the sinful blood of his father and his relatives.
One night, Xie Xuanlan woke up with a start. He seemed calm on the surface, but ordered his men to pour tung oil on the Xie mansion, setting the main gate on fire. The fire burned all night long, and in the end only a corner of the Xie mansion, Dulanju, remained.
His father, brothers, uncles and cousins were all driven back to their hometown in Chenjun.
He was ruthless to his own family and even more ruthless to his political enemies in the court. Leveraging his military power, he purged the opposition forces in the capital with an iron fist. The Fengchen Guards raided homes every day, the guillotine was a bloodbath, the desperate cursed him, the lucky ones trembled with fear, and the opportunists offered him an imperial robe.
Xie Xuanlan chopped the emperor's robe into pieces in front of important civil and military officials, and then appointed the son of Prince Huai and Xie Miaozhu, his one-and-a-half-year-old nephew, as the crown prince.
He does not want to be an emperor, nor does he allow others to be emperor. He makes everyone unhappy.
Time passed in the dream in a flash, and in the blink of an eye it was the fortieth year of Fengqi, ten years away from the fifteen-year agreement.
Yunjing had shed the terror of war and prospered even more than before. In a small teahouse, a storyteller was excitedly recounting the story of Huo Guang, who had hijacked the young emperor to seize control of government. Seeing a Taoist priest passing by with a grand and ostentatious manner, he wisely kept quiet. After the Taoist priest had departed, he smiled at the audience and said,
"This happens every year during the Ghost Festival. The Taoist priests think they have reached the pinnacle of success, but they don't know that the Xie Mansion is the real death den. Five people have already died there. Just wait and see!"
The scene in the dream followed the Taoist priest's footsteps to the newly built Xie Mansion.
The lacquered door was tightly closed and took a long while to open. Inside, the water had dried up, the rocks had collapsed, and there were overgrown weeds. White funeral silk and soul-calling banners were hung everywhere. If you didn't know that this was the residence of General Xie, you would have thought you had stepped into a desolate grave.
Passing through layers of mourning clothes, we arrived at Dulanju, where a high altar was set up in the courtyard.
On the high altar, a man wearing a Shentu mask was waving a spirit-calling banner and chanting to summon the spirits. He seemed to be crying, laughing, begging, and pleading, nearly falling from his madness several times. He turned his head and saw the Taoist priest. He took off his mask, revealing a pale face, but his eyes were as dark as ink, staring at the Taoist priest intently:
"Ancient texts say, 'The Taoist priest Hongdu Ke from Linqiong can summon spirits with his sincerity.' Do you think it's really possible to summon the spirits of deceased relatives?"
The Taoist knew that if he said he couldn't summon the spirit, he would die. If he said he could summon the spirit but failed to do so, he would also die.
The Taoist smiled and said, "If you really want to see an old friend, you should go to where he is, instead of forcing him to come to you."
"Where is the old friend?"
"In dreams, dreams are a bridge where yin and yang meet, and you can meet old friends on the bridge."
The Taoist priest held out a reddish-brown elixir and said to Xie Xuanlan, "If you take this elixir, you will be able to enter your dreams and see your old friends."
The imperial physician tested the elixir and said it was not poisonous but addictive, and advised him not to take it. However, Xie Xuanlan took it that night, and sure enough, he saw his deceased wife Congying in his dream.
She scolded him for not taking care of himself and advised him not to live a life of drunkenness and debauchery anymore. Since he had taken over the business, he should manage it well.
Xie Xuanlan asked her: Can we really see each other again in fifteen years?
Cong Ying nodded: When did I lie to you?
The dream quickly dissipated, and Xie Xuanlan was unable to come back to his senses for a long time.
He ordered a Taoist priest to make him an elixir every month to help him dream of his first wife. This elixir had one benefit but many disadvantages. Every time he took it, he would experience a splitting headache and trembling all over his body. The pain would become more severe each time, comparable to the torture of breaking tendons and bones.
But he was willing to endure the pain of this body that was constantly dying, just to see her one more time in his dreams. Although she only repeated the same few words of advice in his dreams, it gave him hope to endure the long years. The Taoist priest was appreciated by Xie Xuanlan and was appointed as the director of the Imperial Observatory. Then some people with a sharp mind brought him a way out.
Once, after Xie Xuanlan took an elixir, he suddenly felt that the scene in his dream had changed.
He was no longer on the vast White Bridge, and no longer hearing those repetitive words. He walked lightly into Dulanju, lifted the bed curtain, and saw a young girl who had taken off her hairpins and skirt, wearing only her middle dress, looking up at him obediently.
The fragrance in the tent is lingering and sweet, which arouses people's emotions.
In the hazy vision, it was a face that looked very much like Ying.
She reached out her hand softly, her breath as sweet as orchid: "I will serve the general, okay?"
Anyone would have thought that a fool who had taken drugs would never be able to escape from the arms of this beauty, but Xie Xuanlan suddenly flew into a rage, tore off the red curtain, tied her up randomly, threw her to the ground, and suddenly pulled out his Yanzhi knife, with the tip of the knife pointing directly at the beauty's neck.
His voice was as cold as ice: "She is a person of such integrity that she would never lower herself to slavery. Since you have this face, you should not tarnish her reputation after her death."
"For the sake of your face, I won't kill you today, but I advise you to run away. If I see you again after today, I will tear off your skin and make a beauty lamp... Go away."
The girl ran away tumbling and crawling. Xie Xuanlan rushed into the Imperial Observatory with a knife and cut the Taoist priest who offered the elixir into two. He then rushed into Wang's mansion and cut off the head of Wang, who offered the girl.
Because of the elixir, his hands were shaking violently, and he accidentally cut several wounds on his body.
He lay in a pool of blood, looking up at the sky and the distant clouds, which looked extremely ruthless, and he actually laughed out loud in despair.
After that, no one dared to set his sights on his deceased wife. A few years passed in this seemingly peaceful manner. Xie Xuanlan captured the elder brother of the Lord of the Crimson Cloud Crown, a white-faced Taoist priest who was drunk and outspoken, claiming that he could reverse life and death.
Xie Xuanlan was too lazy to treat these charlatans with courtesy and took them directly to the prison for torture. He had just whipped him twice, and before he started to exert his strength, the Taoist Taixiao started howling: "I was just bragging! But my junior sister really can do it! Junior sister, save me, junior sister, save me!"
Taoist Taixiao said that the Lord of the Crimson Cloud Crown had already understood the secret of Zhuangzi's dream of a butterfly, and he only needed to wait for a day of heavy shadow to reverse reality and dreams.
After calculating the calendar for half a day, he said, "The next day of heavy yin should be eight years from now."
It was the day when I made the fifteen-year appointment with Ying.
With new hope, Xie Xuanlan finally returned to normal for a short time.
He learned to be a qualified ruler, rectifying corruption, suppressing the powerful, and reducing taxes and levies. At the same time, he asked great Confucian scholars to teach the young prince, asking him to be a benevolent and capable crown prince.
As the prince grew older, his desires grew. After hearing too much about the harm done by Huo Guang, he began to have second thoughts about his uncle Xie Xuanlan, who was in power.
Xie Xuanlan knew it, but he was too lazy to care, or rather, he deliberately condoned it.
He knew that one day he would need the prince's help.
Finally, fifteen years had passed. This year was also the year when the prince should have officially ascended the throne, but Xie Xuanlan was reluctant to agree, forcing the prince to take a risk and murder. Xie Xuanlan directed this murderous intent to Xuandu Temple, forcing the master of Jiangxia Crown to perform the secret technique of Zhuangzi's dream of a butterfly.
…
The scroll slowly unfolds to its end, and the long dream seems to have finally come to an end.
Although she knew that she was outside a dream, Cong Ying was still heartbroken after witnessing Xie Xuanlan's torture for the past fifteen years. She felt that every scene and every moment was extremely unbearable.
But she didn't expect that the end of the dream was the cruelest part.
She watched the wind and snow fall like a curtain on his shoulders, and watched him kneel before the statue of the Three Pure Ones, kowtowed stiffly a thousand times throughout the night.
I watched him calmly close his eyes and commit suicide in front of the Lord of the Crimson Cloud Crown.
A mist of blood gushed from his neck, then streamed down like a stream, quickly covering the bluestone floor. His slightly graying temples were stained black with blood, but his expression was remarkably calm, as if he had never experienced the torture of the past fifteen years. He was still the proud young man who had returned from Xizhou, urging his horse day and night to see his first wife.
Cong Ying burst into tears and woke up from her dream with sobs, seeing a light purple bed curtain in front of her.
For a long time, she was in a daze, not knowing where she was. Until the tears on her face dried, she suddenly lifted the curtain and got out of bed. With her hair disheveled and without washing, she ran out in her wooden clogs.
Zi Su, who was watering the flowers outside, was startled by her: "What's going on?"
Cong Ying said, "I want to see San Lang... No, I want to see King Jin. I want to go find him!"
Zi Su stopped her and said, "His Royal Highness Prince Jin came here last night, and he was the one who carried you back to your bedroom from the study."
"He came last night, why didn't he wake me up?"
Zi Su guessed: "Maybe he's afraid that you don't want to see him, afraid that you still insist on canceling this marriage and resigning as Princess Jin."
"No...I won't break off the engagement."
Cong Ying was stunned. She raised her hand to touch the tear marks on her face, and two more lines of hot tears fell.
She whispered, "He's been looking for me for so long, I won't abandon him again."
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Author's words: The next chapter is full of pornographic content... Wrong number, it's a wedding [smirk]
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