Chapter 106 Three Small Benches
Tokyo, Bianliang City.
The Ministry of Justice Prison, four floors underground.
Zhao Huan was still happy about Zhang Rong's voluntary surrender, but he didn't know that the grandfather and grandson in Luoyang had already started the magical era.
Zhao Huan helped Zhang Rong up and said, "What the Song Dynasty lacks most is talent skilled in naval warfare. I'll discuss your assignment with the Ministry of Personnel when I return. I'm very pleased to have gained such a talent."
"Your Majesty, please forgive me for what I have done. I am deeply grateful. Thank you for your grace." Zhang Rong kowtowed to the ground again.
In the Song Dynasty, kowtow was not a necessary etiquette except in formal occasions such as grand court meetings. Whether to kowtow was casual or not was a matter of attitude.
Zhao Huan had no choice but to help Zhang Rong up from the ground again and walk outside together.
Zhong Xiang wanted to say something but stopped himself, missing his last chance to survive. At this moment, the yamen runners armed with muskets were on their way on horseback.
On the third floor underground, Zhao Huan gave a few words to the yamen runners, and then asked them to convey the message to Zhang Bofen and others.
"His Majesty has said that you are not at fault in this matter. His Majesty, the owner of Quchen Tower, has already issued an order that the entire family go to Qiongzhou to plant sugarcane, as a way to vent your anger. As for the reflection in the prison cell, it is to teach you a lesson. Don't act so impulsively."
"In the military, one must lead by example and maintain unity. These captains were actually playing dice in their cells. This is outrageous. They will all be sentenced to three days of confinement. Listen to Doctor Ma's explanation of the legal provisions. Upon your release, His Majesty will have important tasks for you."
…
The three of them looked helplessly at this group of humble and submissive guys, and obediently accepted the emperor's orders.
Li Qingzhao had packed her luggage and chose to go to the Bian Jing Palace with Zhao Huan to study the inscriptions and paintings, so as to complete the compilation of "Jinshilu" as soon as possible and give an explanation to herself and her deceased husband.
When they arrived at the Bian Jing Palace, Zhao Huan immediately took Li Qingzhao to the meeting room in the Funing Hall, took out a piece of rice paper from the desk, and then looked at Li Qingzhao with admiration.
"You are the most talented woman of all time. There is no calligraphy of yours in the Bianjing Palace. I must leave you a copy today, no matter what. It must be your most famous poem, 'A Cut Plum Blossom: The Fragrance of Red Lotus Leaves the Jade Mat in Autumn'."
Li Qingzhao felt flattered that the current emperor actually liked her poems. This was really an honor.
Li Qingzhao took the brush, dipped it lightly in ink, and a line of small regular script with hairpin flowers appeared on the paper.
The fragrance of red lotus leaves fades, the jade mat is cold in autumn. I take off my silk dress and go up the orchid boat alone. Who sent the brocade letter from the clouds? When the wild geese return, the moon is full in the west building.
Flowers fall and water flows. One kind of lovesickness, two kinds of idle worries. There is no way to eliminate this feeling, it just leaves my brow, but it stays in my heart.
After finishing writing, Li Qingzhao carefully wrote her name at the end: Yi'an Jushi, and then took out a seal from her purse and stamped it.
"Hahahaha! Another treasure has been added to the national treasury." Zhao Huan's straightforward praise made Li Qingzhao feel embarrassed.
"I've arranged a room for you. You should have a good rest today. Tomorrow I'll take you to see the treasures that the Emperor has collected over the years."
After Zhao Huan finished speaking, a eunuch from the palace took Li Qingzhao away.
After the people walked away, Zhao Huan looked at Li Qingzhao's calligraphy excitedly. A thousand years later, this calligraphy would definitely be a priceless treasure. If it was put on auction, the starting price would definitely be 10 billion.
The collection of the retired emperor that Zhao Huan mentioned was the secret room deep underground, named the Flower-Fruit Mountain Blessed Land, Water Curtain Cave, etc., which always made Zhao Huan think of the Monkey King.
The Song Dynasty was not yet the era of prosperity for novels, and none of the four great classics appeared at that time. "Dream of Red Mansions" was too difficult to write, but other than that, Zhao Huan could consider moving it over.
Oh, "Water Margin" is not a good choice either. It is too fucking reactionary, and it tells the story of the late Northern Song Dynasty. If it were to spread out, it would be like beheading itself.
"Journey to the West" and "Romance of the Three Kingdoms" are better. One is for children, the other for readers, who are both groups with purchasing power. They may not be literary, but they are definitely entertaining.
Good things should be kept within the family. If we invite a storyteller to tell stories in Niu Gao's Jinniu chain, it will attract many customers. Then, if we sell clothes and other peripherals in the future, we will make a lot of money.
Such a good business cannot be wasted.
As a qualified time management master, Zhao Huan decided to change his bedtime chat with Zhu Lian to a storytelling session tonight. He then asked Zhu Lian to compile the story into a book for the storyteller to learn from.
Zhao Huan suddenly remembered the old man who told the story in fragments on the night of the Lantern Festival.
Um, what did the Taoist priest write on the note to the housekeeper?
The answer to the mystery has not yet been revealed.
There's a phrase called "daytime indulgence". I've been too busy with work these days and haven't had a chance to relax.
The Renming Hall was built.
…
Zhao Huan was lying on the big bed, and Zhu Lian held a yellow pear in her hand and handed it to Zhao Huan's mouth.
"If you're tired, just take a good rest and don't push yourself."
A flash of embarrassment crossed Zhao Huan's face. "Have you heard the story of the three little stools?"
“???”
What about the story of the three small stools? Is it also a story like "Journey to the West"? Tell me about it.
As Zhu Lian spoke, he fiddled with little Zhao Huan.
When the world-famous scientist Einstein was in elementary school, he once had a handicraft class. All the classmates handed in their own works: clay ducks, rag dolls, etc., but Einstein was the only one who did not hand in anything.
It was not until the next day that he brought a crudely made stool. The teacher was very dissatisfied and replied, "I don't think there is a worse stool in the world."
Einstein replied, "Yes," and calmly took out two small stools from under his desk. He held up the one in his left hand and said, "This is the first time I've made this."
He raised the one in his right hand and said, "This is the second one I made. The one I just handed in is my third one. Although it is not satisfactory, it is better than these two."
?????
Zhu Lian was confused. Who was Einstein? How come she had never heard of this great scientist? Was he famous?
Three little stools? Each one better than the last?
Zhu Lian's face flushed with embarrassment, but she was full of fighting spirit.
On the second day? Or three times?
Zhao Huan chuckled twice: "It seems that you have understood the essence of the story."
Zhao Huan leaned close to Zhu Lian's ear and whispered, "The latter is the action, the former is the result. Seven times a night is too much, but three times, I should still be able to do it."
"Are you ready?"
"I'm ready, are you?"
"Wait a minute, we're telling a story, listen carefully..."
“Hahahahahahahaha”
Many words are omitted here...
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
