Chapter 125 Love, Hate, and Resentment Was there a guest in the Taoist priest's room? ...
The matter of sample soil was urgent, and they had to present it to Zhao Yunfu as soon as possible.
The real challenge now is who should step forward and, on what grounds, propose the "calcination to identify soil" method to Zhao Yunfu so that the ever-cautious man can be completely convinced that this method is reliable, entirely neutral, and without any bias.
In such a delicate situation, they understood better than anyone that the choice of who would propose the solution was crucial.
This person must be someone who, in Zhao Yunfu's eyes, is completely detached from the current partisan interests of all parties and has no political stance to hold him back, so as to dispel his doubts.
That is why choosing who to take on this important task has become the key issue that they need to carefully consider and deliberate on.
After all, this person not only had to be able to complete their mission successfully, but also had to be absolutely reliable and would never betray them or ruin the entire plan.
During the demonstration, they reached a consensus with Langxi.
In recent days, Yu Nie has been secretly working under the cover of night, passing on all the steps and methods of the demonstration to Lang Xi.
Now, only the final step remains: to select someone to "reveal" to Zhao Yunfu that there is a method in the world for identifying soil by calcination, which can verify whether a place has suffered a flood.
However, things took an unexpected turn when they were secretly selecting people.
Unsettled by the banditry in the three prefectures, Zhao Yunfu has been relying on pills to numb himself and relieve the ever-present pressure.
That night, after overdosing, he vaguely glimpsed that unforgettable, unforgettable figure again. He stumbled and pushed aside the heavy curtains to chase after her outside the palace. The autumn night wind rushed into his collar, and he realized that the phantom was just an illusion, another dream.
Feng Changshi, who had been keeping a close eye on his movements, sighed silently upon seeing this, as he was already used to it.
He hurried to catch up, his voice filled with barely concealed worry: "Your Majesty... did you see Consort Cheng again?" Since Consort Cheng passed away, he often saw her shadow.
Cheng Shuyi, the woman who was once the most favored by the late emperor.
For Zhao Yunfu, she was his stepmother, whom he had to address with respect in name, and ethically they were stepmother and stepson.
But because he used his status to bully and seize her, he pushed her into an abyss.
A bottomless abyss... What he wronged her about was far more than just forcing her to submit to him.
Zhao Yunfu stood frozen in place, wearing only a thin nightgown.
Feng Changshi gave a signal to the palace maid standing beside him. The maid understood and quickly returned to the hall. A moment later, she returned with a cloak embroidered with dragon patterns. She quietly took a thick cloak and carefully draped it over him.
Wrapped in a cloak, Zhao Yunfu stared at the palace lanterns outside the hall, which were being torn askew by the wind. His body stiffened abruptly, as if stung by those words, and his brows furrowed instantly.
He turned his head to the side, his voice cold and hard: "What nonsense are you talking about? I didn't see anything."
Mentioning Cheng Shuyi, disgust welled up in his eyes: "She's an ungrateful wretch. I promised her the position of empress, but she was too stupid to admit it and dared to tell the Cheng family about my affair with her!"
"She single-handedly drove herself to ruin, pushing everything to the point of no return." He scoffed, his laughter cold and indifferent: "Her? Does she even deserve to be in my dreams?"
Feng Changshi immediately knelt down: "It was this old servant's fault, it was this old servant's fault... I beg Your Majesty to forgive me..."
Zhao Yunfu lowered his eyes and glanced at Feng Changshi lying on the ground, his eyebrows not twitching: "You have followed me for so many years, you should know what you can say and what you cannot say."
He paused, then continued, "I will not hold it against you today because of the years you have served me. But if there is a next time, you should know what will happen."
Feng Changshi kowtowed as if granted a pardon: "This old servant thanks Your Majesty for your mercy, thanks Your Majesty for your mercy..."
Zhao Yunfu didn't reprimand him again: "Get up."
As soon as he finished speaking, he regained his usual composure, concealing his earlier lapse in composure.
The temperature outside the hall made him a little more awake, but the awakening only made him more anxious.
He stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the deep night outside.
In the darkness of the night, he thought of that child.
The child who shared his blood but could only address him as a brother.
His lips moved, and he asked, "How has Prince Jing been lately?"
Feng Changshi cautiously sized up the emperor, whose expression was gloomy: "Since Consort Cheng left, His Highness Prince Jing has been raised by Consort Chen. Last year, he married a commoner woman from a scholarly family as his Princess Consort. Your Majesty is aware of all this."
Since the death of Lady Cheng, Zhao Yunfu, deeply resenting his mother, has ignored his nominal "brother of the emperor" for more than ten years. Prince Jing, well aware of his situation, has acted with extreme discretion and restraint, almost remaining out of the sight of the imperial clan.
Seeing the emperor's attitude, no one in the court or among the people treated Prince Jing any differently.
Prince Jing himself quietly held onto the empty title of Prince, living a life almost invisible.
“However…” Feng Changshi paused slightly, a look of hesitation on his face.
Zhao Yunfu turned his head: "But what?"
Feng Changshi hesitated for a moment, then spoke with some difficulty: "At the beginning of the year, Princess Jing gave birth to twins. Unfortunately, one of them was unlucky and died shortly after birth. The surviving young prince is said to be weak and sickly from birth."
Before he could finish speaking, Zhao Yunfu's face darkened considerably. Seeing this, Feng Changshi quickly added a comforting remark: "Fortunately, Your Majesty is blessed with good fortune. Princess Jing recently became pregnant again, and this old servant has secretly invited the most reliable imperial physician from the Imperial Hospital to take care of her at the Prince's residence. This time, nothing will go wrong, Your Majesty, please do not worry."
Zhao Yunfu remained silent for a long while before asking, "...died young?"
Feng Changshi lowered his head even further, held his breath, and responded in a low voice.
If the Cheng family were still alive, this would never have happened again.
The thought of "If the Cheng family were here..." suddenly rushed into his mind, along with hatred and distorted fantasies that he himself was unwilling to admit.
Their son, Prince Jing, had inexplicably become weak after her passing, requiring constant medication. He was almost obsessively convinced that the frail health he had inherited from his mother was now being passed down to the next generation, leading to this outcome.
It was all her fault, the cause of this tragedy... Thinking of this, Cheng's face appeared before his eyes again.
It wasn't their later pale and desperate appearance, but rather their breathtaking beauty at their first meeting, with an untamed and aloof air about them.
But this face only stirred up his overwhelming resentment. He hated her for being so ungrateful, for her decisiveness, and even more so for leaving this child behind, like a thorn forever stuck in his heart, reminding him of his past shame and defeat.
Hatred burned through his internal organs, and just as this fire of hatred was about to consume his reason, another face suddenly appeared on his face without warning... that female Taoist priest.
That face bore a striking resemblance to Cheng's, with the same delicate features and captivating eyes.
Perhaps, perhaps, the past can still be changed... A crazy thought instantly flashed into his mind.
As he thought this, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, all that remained in his eyes was a bottomless blackness.
After a moment, he suppressed his turbulent emotions and turned to Feng Changshi, asking, "...Where does that female Taoist priest live?"
Feng Changshi was startled by the emperor's sudden question and dared not be negligent in the slightest: "Your Majesty, I am temporarily residing in a quiet courtyard in the west of the city."
"Prepare the carriage." Zhao Yunfu stared at him. "Go now."
Feng Changshi certainly understood what this order represented.
"Your Majesty, it's almost curfew. Why don't you send someone to invite Master Shen to the palace again? That would be better..."
Feng Changshi tried to offer advice, but his last words were swallowed back when he met the emperor's turbulent eyes.
He immediately bowed his head: "This old servant will go and arrange the carriage."
*
The night was hazy, and the horses' hooves pounded in the empty alley.
Before long, the imperial carriage came to a silent stop outside the inconspicuous courtyard gate.
On the old eaves, the dim candlelight flickered gently in the lantern and cast its light on the wooden door.
Feng Changshi stepped forward and gently knocked on the door knocker. After a while, footsteps came from inside the door.
A short while later, a clear and melodious voice rang out: "Who is it?"
After stating his identity, Feng Changshi glanced back at the people in the imperial carriage, then turned back and said, "My master has something he wishes to ask you, sir. I wonder if you are available to receive guests at this moment?"
The footsteps inside paused, then a soft creak sounded as the wooden door was pulled open a crack.
Langxi raised the lantern in his hand and, by its light, looked at the situation outside the door.
She didn't look at Feng Changshi; her gaze passed over him and landed on the understated yet undeniably noble carriage, from which the people inside had already alighted.
He gazed at her delicate face for a long while, completely disregarding etiquette.
Langxi said softly, "Since you are an honored guest, please come in. However, the courtyard is small, so the imperial carriage will have to stop outside."
Having said that, she turned and led the way.
The courtyard was even more tranquil than the area outside the gate. Dewdrops clung to the flowers in the corner, occasionally dripping down and landing on the soil.
Zhao Yunfu followed behind her, his gaze sweeping over the surroundings in the courtyard, before they went inside together.
Feng Changshi, having already sensed the danger, stopped at the door and stood guard in the courtyard with the other guards.
Inside the room, the lamp on the table cast a warm yellow glow, illuminating the furnishings in a hazy light. On the table sat an open scroll of the Tao Te Ching, next to two rough earthenware teacups, the tea inside long since cooled.
She turned to Zhao Yunfu and invited him to sit down: "Your Majesty's visit so late at night must be of great importance. Why don't you have a cup of hot tea first, and then we can talk slowly?"
After speaking, she lowered her eyes to the table, intending to discreetly put away the two cooled, coarse pottery teacups.
Unexpectedly, just as she touched the edge of the teacup, a hand pressed down on her wrist, not too hard, but stopping her movement.
Lang Xi looked up and met Zhao Yunfu's deep eyes.
He looked at the two teacups: "These cups look like they've just been used?"
Her heart tightened slightly, and she was about to explain when she heard him continue, "Before I arrived, were there guests in the Taoist priest's room?" His voice was very soft, and his eyes held the scrutiny unique to an emperor.
This cup was left by Xu Caigang; they were in such a hurry that they forgot to clean it up.
Fearing that something was amiss, Langxi calmed his fluctuating emotions and subtly withdrew his hand: "A pilgrim came to have his fortune told this evening. After he left, I was busy tidying up the courtyard and forgot about it."
Zhao Yunfu didn't reply, but just stared at her.
The dim candlelight flickered in his deep eyes.
After a short while, he slowly spoke, his tone completely calm: "Oh, is that so?"
He didn't ask any further questions and picked up a clean teacup from the table.
Langxi was just about to change the subject and mention the banditry, and then take the opportunity to explain the method of "calcining to identify soil".
He placed the teacup back on the table, interrupting her before she could speak. His gaze slowly swept over her face, which almost perfectly matched the features he remembered.
He said, "I have come so late at night. Have I disturbed the Daoist's meditation?"
Langxi noticed something amiss, shook his head, and poured him tea: "His Majesty has come on state business, so it's not an intrusion."
Upon hearing this, Zhao Yunfu looked at the water in the cup and said, "I came here tonight not for state affairs, but for personal reasons."
"Personal motives?" Langxi couldn't figure out his intentions and only looked puzzled.
"Hmm," Zhao Yunfu responded. He didn't look at her again, and suddenly got up and looked around the simple room. From the bed covered with coarse cloth bedding to the several scrolls of Taoist scriptures with curled edges on the table.
"I have heard that those who cultivate the Tao must sever their worldly ties and abandon all emotions and desires." He suddenly spoke, his voice as calm as if he were casually discussing the Tao: "Taoist Master, you have seen all the troubles of the world and have helped them resolve their doubts and avert disasters. In your opinion, can one truly let go of all the attachments in this world so easily?"
Although Langxi felt that his sudden question about Daoist practice was somewhat abrupt, he suppressed his doubts and replied, "Your Majesty, the mortal world is vast and complex, and all living beings are adrift in a sea of suffering. In my humble opinion, only by understanding 'knowing illusion and departing from it, not being swayed by circumstances' can one gradually break free from bondage."
Zhao Yunfu stood quietly to the side, brushing the characters of the Taoist scriptures on the table without saying a word.
After a moment of silence, he chuckled.
"Knowing illusion is to depart from it, and not be swayed by circumstances..." He slowly repeated these eight words: "What if this 'illusion' is rooted in the heart, gnawing at the soul day and night, and what if this 'circumstance' is the past that one can never escape?"
As he spoke, he turned around, stared intently at her face, and involuntarily walked closer to her.
"Does the Taoist priest know that I too have times when I am troubled and unable to find relief?"
Langxi was extremely wary as he watched the figure approach step by step.
He could barely suppress the coldness and mockery that surfaced in his eyes. His predicament? Could he ever find relief? It was utterly laughable.
He stepped forward, and Langxi's back slammed into the bookshelf, leaving him nowhere to retreat.
She ultimately revealed nothing, lowering her eyelashes: "Your Majesty is ordained by Heaven, the ruler of the four seas, an incarnation of a true dragon, and naturally protected by the radiance of the Purple Star. All the things in this world are merely tribulations to temper your holy heart, and will eventually dissipate."
The candlelight inside cast shadows on his face, obscuring his expression.
He slowly raised his hand, trembling, wanting to touch her cheek. This face was almost identical to the one that had appeared countless times in his dreams, haunting him and causing him unbearable pain.
If he didn't know her original identity, he would even think that the dead had come back to life at this moment.
“But I feel…” His voice was filled with an obsession and desire that threatened to burn through reason: “Within the four seas, only the Daoist Master… can relieve my mortal tribulations.”
Even before his hand actually touched her, Lang Xi already felt a sense of disgust.
She instantly understood the deeper meaning in his words, and her hand suddenly pressed against the dagger hidden at her waist.
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