This is indeed an unusual country.
The sun was getting higher and higher. When the sky was bright, the group of students from the Cultural and Museum Practice Program walked out of the square and crossed a road, saying that they wanted to have some breakfast before the museum opened. (Note 3)
Yang Yizhong really didn't understand how so many long-wheeled boxes appeared on this road. Some were big, some were small, some were black, some were white. They were obviously not pulled by oxen or horses, but they ran much faster than war horses. And this road was really wide and smooth. Compared with it, the roads in Tokyo City looked like grass streets in the countryside.
After passing this road, Zhao Jiu and several classmates said they wanted to eat "Kaifeng cuisine". Yang Yizhong looked at the bright red shop sign several times, and no matter how he looked at it, it read "Kidken". The diners in the shop were eating fried chicken, meat patties, meat rolls and the like, as well as common breakfast foods such as soy milk and fried dough sticks. It had nothing in common with Tokyo cuisine.
Anyway, there are already many things he doesn't understand here, and this one is not enough. Yang Yizhong gave up on further investigation, and then he saw something else peculiar. Zhao Jiu and his friends ordered food, neither went to the counter nor called the waiter, but just poked a few times on a large square screen, found a table and sat down, and then someone called the number to pick up the food. Yang Yizhong stood aside and sniffed, and actually felt a little hungry.
Zhao Jiu ordered a box of fried chicken and ate it happily with some French fries. After wolfing it down, he took a few gulps of the brown and black bubbling drink called "Coke" and sighed, "The original chicken is still delicious!"
Yang Yizhong couldn't help comparing this young man with the emperor again. His eating style was exactly the same as the emperor's, but the food he liked on weekdays didn't seem to be fried chicken. In Bagong Mountain and Nanyang, he always ate whatever he could get. After returning to Tokyo, he first ate wild rabbits for several months, and then began to eat fish and ducks raised by himself. He also fed chickens, but fried food was too oily, so he rarely made them. But he obviously loved this thing, and the dish was nothing more than marinated chicken, coated with flour and fried...
If this young man is really an official... Could it be that the official has given up even this little luxury of food and drink for the Northern Expedition? Yang Yizhong sighed. With such an official, why worry about the Northern Expedition not being successful?
After breakfast, the students gathered in twos and threes, crossed the "road" where no horses were seen, and returned to the vermilion city tower. At this time, the three gates were already open, and tourists were coming in an endless stream. Yang Yizhong followed the others into the city gate, and then he looked up and saw the plaque on the inner door.
The Palace Museum. This name made Yang Yizhong a little nervous. The Palace Museum, which dynasty's Palace Museum? Is it true that, as the teacher of the group of schoolchildren said, there is no emperor in this country, and the palace can be freely entered and exited? But what does the museum mean? Moreover, the small group of elite soldiers just now disappeared after the flag was raised. Who are they? Whose soldiers are they? Since the red flag was raised in front of the palace, it must have a special meaning. The red background with gold stars, which country's flag is it?
Countless questions swirled in Yang Yi's mind, but no one could answer them. Zhao Jiu and his classmates used their ID cards to pass the security check, passed through the Meridian Gate, and went all the way forward, jogging down the slope behind the Afternoon Gate, and dispersed in front of the Taiji Hall to move freely.
There were too many people on the central axis. Zhao Jiu, who was not visiting the Forbidden City for the first time, directly avoided the three main halls and went to the Wenhua Hall on the west side to look at calligraphy and paintings. Yang Yizhong followed Zhao Jiu into the calligraphy and painting gallery. The lights in the exhibition room were soft, and the cultural relics lay quietly in the display cabinets, which once again shocked the imperial commander of the Song Dynasty.
There are so many precious paintings and calligraphy works... Yan Zhenqing's "Zhushan Hall Linked Poems", Gu Kaizhi's "Representative Women of Benevolence and Wisdom", Zhou Fang's "Ladies", and many other works whose authors he does not know, but those who can be listed with Yan Zhenqing, Gu Kaizhi and others are certainly not mediocre and inferior works. And the labels under the exhibits are all marked with the year, author, and introduction.
Yang Yizhong didn't know all the characters, but he knew the word "Song". What was intriguing was that these exhibits were divided into Northern Song and Southern Song... This made him a little annoyed. The emperor had clearly conquered Zhongdu and recovered the old land of Yanyun that even Taizu couldn't get into his pocket. Where did the Southern Song come from? Wait, how come the emperor's hometown also has the history of Qin, Han, Tang and Song? And this painting... He looked at the author and his heart twitched.
"Hibiscus and Peacock, a painting of flowers and birds by Emperor Huizong of Song." Zhao Jiu stared at the painting and curled his lips. "It's a good painting, but the artist is such a rotten person."
A classmate said disdainfully: "Emperors Huizong and Qinzong are a disgrace to mankind. Who is for them and who is against them?"
"Oh, the shame of Jingkang, the backbone of the entire country was shattered, relatives were robbed, killed and humiliated. If it were me, I would have hanged myself with a rope long ago. How could they have survived in Wuguo City for so many years?" Zhao Jiu sneered.
"He did think about committing suicide, but he didn't dare to do it now." Another female classmate said coldly: "He is an excellent calligrapher and painter. It's a pity for the Song Dynasty to be an emperor."
Everyone was talking at the same time, cursing the father and son of the Zhao family. Yang Yizhong's ears were filled with treasonous and lewd words, and he could only stand there and think. They insulted the two saints so wittily, worthy of being the official's fellow villagers. This group of young students did not care about the face of the royal family at all, and their words were more heartbreaking than the last. As he was sighing, he heard that everyone was cursing "Song Gaozong" again.
"Wanyan Gou? This guy is even more of a piece of shit." Zhao Jiu said casually, not knowing that the surname Wanyan almost scared Yang Yizhong to fall.
"What else? Even if a dog becomes the emperor, it is more useful than him."
"At least the dog won't trick Yue Fei back with twelve golden medals and kill him."
"A dog wouldn't write 'Chen Gou Yan' to the Jin people."
At first, Yang Yizhong tried his best to comfort himself that the so-called "Emperor Gaozong Wanyan Gou" might be a fake emperor established by the Jin people, just like the father and son of the Liu family in Jinan. But when a student cursed, "The three of Zhao Ji, father and son, are rubbish worse than each other, and Zhao Gou is especially rubbish," he could no longer pretend. He felt that the world was illusory and everything was absurd!
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