Chapter 310 Rumors
Before the Blooming Conference was held, rumors were already spreading, fueled by those with ulterior motives.
The news came from the Iris Heart Palace. It was said that a maid saw with her own eyes that the chief ghost of the People's Party and the Queen Esmery of the Silver Iris Empire were chatting like old friends. Her Majesty the Queen admired him very much and was ready to grant him the title of Marquis, a large fiefdom and huge wealth, the only condition being that he give up his position as the Speaker of the Third Parliament and join the Second Parliament, the Royal Court Parliament.
Many people didn't believe it, and didn't want to. They said Mr. Ghost was once a noble, but chose to leave his family and betray his bloodline. He had been imprisoned, faced numerous life-threatening situations, and risked his life to lead a group of slaves to establish the People's Party, gradually expanding it. This was enough to show that Mr. Ghost had no ambitions.
But others grumbled, "A mere viscount, perhaps even less prestigious than a wealthy merchant, might be better off without such a title—but why would a nobleman want to toil in the dirt with a bunch of paupers? He must be seeking something, and the queen's admiration is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He could easily enjoy a life of wealth and glory, so why risk his life by associating with a bunch of common slaves?"
"These—idiots—they've had their brains kicked by a donkey!" Fina crumpled the newspaper in her hands in anger. The newspaper featured a scene of the ghost attending a palace dinner. The author's words were ambiguous, with hints between the lines. There was even a photo. The picture showed only a small part of the handsome, cold face of a dark-haired young man, his slender fingers tightly covered in gloves resting on his chin. The background, however, depicted the dinner's opulence and joy in every possible way, as if the ghost were gazing at this extravagant feast in a trance.
A little aside here: as soon as this issue of the newspaper was published, it was snapped up by the residents of the royal city. However, these readers' intentions were not entirely as the queen anticipated. Many people deliberately cut out the photo for collection, and even many noble ladies who originally did not care about politics secretly inquired about the identity of the "ghost." In later times, this portrait of the leader of the People's Party, taken by the former royal family, became one of the most famous and precious photos of the "ghost" himself in the already scarce historical records. Every well-preserved clipping has been auctioned for a huge price and is carefully collected by major museums.
But now, Fina felt a chill run down her spine. If only she hadn't accepted the invitation from the Silver Helmet Knight, the girl couldn't help but think. With her keen sense, she could see that if this matter wasn't resolved perfectly, it would deal a heavy blow to the morale of the People's Party and even the Third Parliament.
"It's useless." Despite being at the center of the public outcry, the protagonist himself appeared remarkably calm. "If I don't go, I'll probably be like the rebel leader, a coward hiding in the sewers, afraid to show his face. If he can't even attend a dinner party, how can such a timid person shoulder the responsibility of speaking to the royal family on behalf of the common people?"
He had seen this kind of political propaganda war many times on Earth, and it was even a bit crude due to the times - not to mention that due to the limitations of the carrier, public opinion was not completely controlled by the queen.
Fina bit her lip anxiously. After calming down, she realized that Mr. Ghost was right. The royal family had a story to tell anyway.
"She fights her fight, and I fight mine," the black-haired young man said calmly, twirling the pen in his hand like a baton. "This is actually a good thing for us. To make these rumors more 'authentic,' the Queen won't overly embarrass me in the royal city. Instead, she'll appear more tolerant of me, or rather, the Third Council. We can definitely take advantage of this opportunity."
So just as the rumor intensified in the royal city, and someone even swore that the grandson of his third uncle's aunt who was on duty at Yuanxin Palace had seen with his own eyes that the ghost was helping the queen take a walk in the garden, and the queen even said that she wanted to marry her distant niece - well, a princess, really - to him, the residents of the royal city were suddenly surprised to find that a wooden platform had been built in a corner of Yuanxin Square at some point, with more than a dozen extremely heavy closed wooden boxes neatly arranged on it, with only a narrow crack on the top.
The members of the People's Party appeared in front of the eager eyes of the Royal City Army and the sheriff in this way, and they all wore red armbands representing the Third Parliament on their right arms.
Perhaps they had received orders. Although the Royal City Army and the sheriff saw many faces of wanted criminals, they could only turn their eyes away and ignore them.
The ghost stood among them, his skin was pale, his clothes were simple and even a little old, only the gray eyes behind the glasses were frighteningly bright - he did not look like an ambitious candidate for the marquis, but rather like a gentle scholar.
"The wooden box contains 7,351 proposals collected by the Third Council from fifteen towns so far, and the Royal City is the final stop for collecting proposals." The black-haired young man ignored the whispers directed at him and spoke slowly, patting the empty, closed wooden box nearest to him with his palm. "Anyone present who has any thoughts or ideas, even if they just have grievances to complain about, can write them down anonymously and put them in the wooden box. The People's Party will also provide ghostwriting services for those who can't write. These proposals will be presented at the Blooming Conference."
He did not leave afterwards. Instead, he personally opened the lock of a wooden box, randomly picked out a piece of paper from the slips that emerged like fermented dough, began to read it aloud in public, and conducted an in-depth interpretation and discussion on this topic, showing that he was well versed in the extremely large number of proposals.
More and more people gathered in Kite Heart Square. The common people had never seen such a scene before. The Blooming Conference claimed to be a third parliament that represented the common people, but even the residents living under the king's feet could hardly explain why. Everyone was confusedly "represented" and "made decisions" for them.
As time went on, people began to step forward and slip papers into the wooden box. Some also bravely stepped forward to ask Mr. Ghost questions. He was remarkably patient, persisting for over six hours on the first day, barely sipping a sip of water. Only when his voice was completely hoarse did he move on to the next speaker.
After that, the figure of the black-haired young man would appear from time to time near Yuanxin Square. Even if his voice was hoarse and he couldn't speak, he would still move a small stool and sit in the audience, quietly watching them communicate, explain, argue, and distribute brochures to passers-by.
Gradually, fewer and fewer people mentioned the so-called "succession to the title" or "marrying a princess". They began to debate more about what opinions to put forward to the royal family at the upcoming Blooming Conference and how to better fight for the rights and interests of the general public, small and medium-sized businessmen, scholars, farmers, workers and craftsmen.
Many nobles angrily called it a "show," but it was undeniable that within just ten days, the atmosphere in the royal city had subtly changed. Commoners, previously indifferent to politics, were now fiercely discussing the proposals after dinner, and even many minor nobles couldn't help but join in.
The collection activity on the square was crude, looked extremely informal, and even a bit absurd. But it continued in this way, stumbling all the way to the eve of the Blooming Conference.
During this time, three assassination attempts occurred in Kite Heart Square. Two of them were aimed at the Ghost himself, one by gunfire, one by magic, and the third was simply an attempt to blow up all the onlookers.
The terrorist attack was carried out by an ordinary person, who hid in the crowd with homemade bombs tied all over his body, and then suddenly attacked. After discovering his intention, the Liberals pinned him to the ground and immediately chose to self-destruct. Fortunately, there was a sorcerer present, but many people were still injured by surprise. Mr. Ghost's arm was also scratched by the rubble from the explosion, leaving several bloody wounds, and his sleeves were soaked with blood.
"They are afraid of us." The ghost's voice penetrated the panicked crowd, gradually quieting the people who were constantly pushing and screaming in the square: "Because we started to think, we started to speak out, we started to unite... This frightened those powerful people at the top."
Was the culprit behind the attack the Church, the Royal Court, or some mentally disturbed cultist? Regardless of who it was, the attack thoroughly enraged the people of the Royal City, and the Limin Party immediately announced that it would provide medical treatment and compensation for the injured, earning a significant amount of goodwill.
Nova finally hissed in pain, withdrawing from the crowd and returning to his room. He admitted that he was using a "torture tactic" while also playing along. Or rather, he relied on these minor injuries, which wouldn't cause panic, to stir up public opinion, avoid unnecessary resentment and dissatisfaction, and elicit more sympathy and support. Politics is never fair and honest.
Someone gently touched the back of his neck, which was covered with a thin layer of cold sweat. The black-haired young man raised his eyelids, glanced at the emerging figure of Azuka, then leaned limply against the other person tiredly, allowing the man to clean his wound without saying a word, and then bandage it with bandages circle by circle.
"...That's too much." He half-opened his eyes, staring at his arm that was wrapped in layers of clothes. Finally, he couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "It's just some scrapes, and you're making it seem like my arm is broken."
This guy was like this before in Asachi Valley, what a crappy habit.
The savior glanced at him with a half-smile, and only when the professor felt inexplicably guilty did he sigh softly, lean over and kiss his forehead with extra affection: "Does it hurt?"
"It hurts, but my pain perception nerves are still normal." The always arbitrary tyrant clumsily whispered to comfort him: "But you can continue to kiss me and comfort me."
Azuka narrowed his eyes slightly. But before he could make a move, the crystal ball on the table suddenly lit up, and his old enemy, who had just been curled up in his arms and meowing coquettishly, suddenly jumped up - Percy Brody's anxious face appeared in the crystal ball.
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