Chapters 1517 & 1516: The Grand Finale (19) [Seeking Monthly Tickets]
In stark contrast to the worry and panic of the crowd, Qi Shan's reaction was indifferent. He calmly raised his bleeding arm, the long sleeve sliding down to his elbow. The gaping wound formed three slightly hastily written but chilling words—
Return home, do not worry.
Qi Shan's pupils trembled and constricted uncontrollably.
Her pale lips trembled incessantly.
It was as if an external force had ripped his soul out, leaving only an empty shell. Everyone watched him in terror, their once-empty pupils gradually trembling. Qi Shan gripped the corner of the table with one hand, the other clawing at his face, his shoulders shaking, a few broken, dying sobs escaping his throat. Blood dripped from his palm, sliding down his cheek with each movement.
At first glance, it looks like it's weeping blood.
The group exchanged bewildered glances, their hearts filled with doubt and uncertainty.
No, what's wrong with the Grand Tutor?
Relying on his young age but deep experience, and having never been too embarrassed by Qi Shan over the years, Xu Quan mustered his courage and stepped forward to probe: "Is someone plotting against the Grand Tutor, or... is there bad news?"
In this deathly silence, the faint whimpering gradually turned into eerie laughter, pounding on everyone's tense nerves.
"no……"
Qi Shan suppressed the turbulent emotions that made it hard for her to breathe.
He exhaled the breath that had been building up in his chest, suppressing the slight spasm in his throat: "Gentlemen, don't worry, this isn't bad news."
It's definitely not bad news.
Qi Shan released the corner of the table that had been crushed into powder. His right palm was a bloody mess, and the swollen, taut muscles and veins on the back of his hand and forearm disappeared beneath his skin as he released the pressure. He then lowered his left hand, and everyone silently observed the slightly lighter bloodstains on his face.
The crimson blood seemed to have had its color diluted by something.
Qi Shan was unwilling to say more.
In the blink of an eye, his mood had returned to normal: "Please continue, everyone."
Everyone stared in silence at his lowered sleeve.
Qi Shan made no attempt to treat the wound, letting it bleed continuously, with drops of blood splattering down.
"Prime Minister Qi, do you need to bandage your arm injury?"
Qi Shan glanced down at her arm.
"Need not."
Xu Quan, a veteran with extensive experience: "..."
He was aware of the subtle connection between the Grand Tutor and the Emperor.
He hadn't quite grasped the situation yet, and his first thought was that the Qu Kingdom had sent someone with extraordinary abilities to assassinate the Grand Tutor. But seeing the Grand Tutor's attitude, he immediately dismissed this guess and had another idea instead.
Was this injury inflicted by the Lord?
Only this speculation can explain Qi Shan's strange reaction.
Besides Xu Quan, others present clearly had also considered this possibility. They were all restless, eager to end the meeting and confirm their suspicions with Qi Shan. Even after the discussion concluded, the tent was filled with an undeniable, strong stench of blood.
When Fang Yan was called over, he encountered several idiots with silly grins on their faces, and he was completely baffled.
"What happened?"
He reached out and grabbed Thirteen.
Shao Chong looked blankly at him: "Sixth Brother, I don't know."
He genuinely didn't know. Although Shao Chong's mental recovery had been quite good over the years, he had still been mentally challenged for so long, and occasionally he still seemed a bit simple-minded. Fang Yan didn't expect him to be particularly clever; he was just grateful that he knew to run home on rainy days instead of going out to splash in puddles.
"Don't know? Then what do you know?"
Shao Chong recalled the contents of the meeting.
All I remember is everyone chattering away, one person finishing their sentence before another started speaking, and occasionally someone would get so worked up that they'd start looking cross-eyed. When they got excited, they couldn't help but transform into spray cans, the air filled with freely flying spittle. There's a reason Shao Chong disliked meetings; sometimes he just happened to be in the middle of a few spray cans, getting sprayed with spittle all over his head.
He doesn't want to go to the meeting.
The garbled words flowed smoothly through my mind, leaving no trace.
Shao Chong said honestly, "I knew Prime Minister Qi was injured."
Fang Yan took a deep breath, skillfully performing psychological therapy on himself—this was his younger brother, and the spirits of his older brothers in heaven were watching. He couldn't be violent towards him. The silly child knew to run home on a rainy day; he shouldn't ask for too much: "I know that Prime Minister Qi is injured. If he wasn't injured, why would I have come all this way?"
Shao Chong blinked.
Two index fingers are pressed together and twisted.
His innocent and pitiful movements softened the wild and fierce features of his face, making them appear somewhat aggrieved. Fang Yan sighed and decided to let go of his two-hundred-pound, dim-witted younger brother. He carried his medicine chest into the main tent, where only a few people were present. His patient sat in his seat with a smile on his lips, his gaze fixed on the injured arm.
Fang Yan put down his medicine box: "Please lend me your hand, Mr. Qi."
For some inexplicable morbid psychology, Qi Shan cooperated by reaching out his hand. Don't ask why it was morbid; Fang Yan clearly caught a fleeting glimpse of smug joy in his eyes. It was as if being injured wasn't a suffering, but rather something that gave him a thrill that sent shivers down his spine.
Fang Yan: "..."
He silently suppressed this strange thought.
It's pretty morbid of me to be able to imagine these bizarre things.
He carefully lifted Qi Shan's long sleeve, revealing a bloody, mangled wound, and immediately heard a gasp. Fang Yan was stunned for a moment, then a surge of anger rose within him; he wanted nothing more than to smash his medicine box in Qi Yuanliang's face. Doctors hate patients like this the most!
Why is the wound taking so long to heal?
Because someone deliberately tore the wound open.
Who did this?
Hehe, you can find out by checking the remaining traces of ink on the wound.
Who else could it be besides Qi Yuanliang?
In a fit of anger, he snapped, "Is Prime Minister Qi courting death? Even a scholar with a literary heart can die from massive blood loss!"
Of course, this amount of bleeding is far from fatal, but if Qi Yuanliang continues to act crazy, the repeated rupture of his wounds will really cause serious problems!
Fang Yan had a headache and secretly cursed his older brother and the others, wondering why they didn't bless him to encounter fewer unreasonable patients.
Others also showed expressions of disapproval and incomprehension.
Qi Shan smiled and said, "That's how it should be."
He then asked, "How much of the wound cloth do you think this blood can stain?"
Fang Yan couldn't keep up with him: "What?"
"Tell me, if I were to present all these bloodstained cloths to the Lord, and let her see the wound on this arm that will leave a scar even after it heals, would she..." Qi Shan's eyes held a hint of ferocity as she swallowed the words she was about to say.
Fang Yan: "..."
I don't really understand what's going on in these people's minds.
As he wrote the prescription, his mind kept replaying the way the thirteen brothers interacted when his eldest brother was alive. Then, imagining the current situation, he suddenly shuddered. He couldn't bear to think about it. He couldn't bear to imagine the twelve men left behind after his eldest brother's unauthorized disappearance, their hearts filled with resentment and despair, twisted with malice, all while contemplating self-harm to teach the other a lesson.
Fang Yan closed his eyes.
The scene he imagined was too beautiful for him to bear.
It's practically a group of lunatics rushing headlong into each other's lives.
Fang Yan decisively added some calming and tranquilizing medicine to the prescription to treat Qi Shan's mind. After he finished writing the prescription in a long and splendid manner, as he was cleaning up the bloodstains, he heard Qi Shan sigh in a deep voice again: "Never mind, never mind, let's just wash and boil these wound cloths and continue using them."
Fang Yan: "..."
Qi Shan closed her eyes: "Don't leave any scars."
Fang Yan: "..."
Fang Yan, as Qi Shan's half-doctor of medicine, knew best about Qi Shan's physical condition over the past six months. Simply put, his body was weak, and his spirits were even worse; he was deeply troubled and filled with resentment. It wouldn't be surprising if Qi Shan suddenly went mad and rebelled midway through the battle. He's gone mad, so why not just let him have his way? His hatred was boundless, but then someone carved a few words on his arm, and he suddenly felt affection for them.
Forgive so easily—
Wouldn't that make him seem worthless?
Qi Shan hadn't thought about this question.
All he knew was that the sharp needle that had been lodged in his heart for the past six months, something that had caused him both pain and coldness, had finally melted away like ice under the warm sun. What hatred? What pain? He forgot it all at once, and when he tried to recall it, all he could remember were vague memories.
All he knew was, "I'm glad you're willing to return; I dare not ask for more."
He can forgive anything once the person comes back.
Fang Yan said he didn't understand but respected it.
As long as Qi Shan doesn't cause trouble, with Wenxin's physique, this wound will heal completely in less than two days, leaving no scar. Qi Shan took a deep breath to calm his mind: "Lingde has been on his mission for two days now, has any news come back?"
"Reporting to the Prime Minister, not yet."
Strictly speaking, this was Lin Feng's second mission to the Kingdom of Qu.
For the first time, as allies.
The second time, as an enemy.
The atmosphere I experienced on the two occasions was completely different.
Facing the dangerous gazes that seemed to want to tear her apart, Lin Feng smiled inwardly, but remained neither humble nor arrogant in her actions. She had come to negotiate on a mission, presenting a letter of surrender with both hands, stating her purpose: "I earnestly request that Your Majesty consider this matter carefully."
She had barely explained her purpose when someone immediately harbored murderous intent.
Lin Feng remained unmoved, his expression unchanged.
She was certain she would be alright, and certain no one could cross the defenses and harm her. Lin Feng raised his eyes, his gaze fixed on Zhai Le, who sat imposingly at the head of the table, clad in armor, his resolute face revealing no emotion. Zhai Le did not use force to shatter the surrender letter to demonstrate his determination to fight to the death; instead, he opened it and read it line by line, word by word. The civil and military officials of Qu Kingdom waited cautiously and anxiously.
They understand their own ruler.
She is indeed cheerful, but she is also stubborn.
He would never allow himself to suffer such a humiliating disgrace.
However--
Zhai Le merely raised an eyebrow and said in a voice devoid of genuine emotion, "To be granted the title of Duke, with a rank equivalent to a Prince, and a fief of ten thousand households?"
When the twelve characters were uttered, everyone below gasped.
This treatment is almost the highest level.
It should be known that in Kangguo, only members of the imperial family could be granted the title of Prince, and currently there is only one Prince Yuan, born to Shen Youli at an unknown time. A fief of ten thousand households—if this fief is not a nominal title but a real one… many people began to have doubts, and countless questions arose in their minds.
There are roughly three types.
One theory is that Zhai Le and Shen Tang had a past relationship. It's normal for young men and women in their prime to have feelings for each other, especially during the most innocent and naive stages of youth. Another theory is that Shen Tang and Zhai Le are related by blood. Normally, even siblings would find it difficult to offer such generous treatment. However, considering that the late Lord Zhai Huan was determined to give the Kingdom of Qu to his cousin Zhai Le, it's clear that the blood ties within the Zhai clan are not as superficial as those outside. A third theory is that Shen Tang is just making empty promises and has no intention of fulfilling them.
Zhai Le's sudden death means all her promises were worthless. By then, the die is cast, and the state of Qu can no longer be turned upside down.
In the end, all they could do was swallow their pride and bear the pain.
Lin Feng replied, "Yes."
A barely perceptible smile appeared on Zhai Le's tense face.
"It's rare for her to be so generous."
The other person's generosity made Zhai Le suspect that he had been possessed.
Shen Youli wasn't stingy; she was generous as long as she had the means. The problem was, she didn't have the financial means. In all the years since the founding of Kangguo, only a handful of its elders had received additional titles. How many noble titles could they afford to give away? The few titles they had were: the Duke of Yi, inherited by Gu Ziyi's son; the Duke of Lu, the other protagonist in the popular folk tale of the deep bond between brothers; and only two county dukes: Qian Yong, who surrendered with his remaining troops in his early years; and Qiu Cheng's son, who somehow received preferential treatment.
They were even stingier with the royal families of other defeated minor kingdoms.
They would rather keep them as servants than give them a higher title; they would basically just settle for being county dukes or marquises, and at most they would go to the trouble of coming up with a title for them.
Of course, it's also possible that the favor will be bestowed after unification.
Don't feed them too much at once.
But when it came to Zhai Le, the situation was completely different.
They were afraid he might not have been stuffed to death.
Civil and military officials stepped forward one after another to deliver their speeches.
Their stance is also quite delicate.
Some subtly supported Zhai Le accepting the surrender offer, arguing that even if Qu State hadn't been so weakened, it was still a much smaller state than Kang State. A smaller territory and population meant a lower maximum number of troops that could be conscripted, a concern Kang State didn't have.
The two sides are locked in a life-or-death struggle, and the state of Qu is bound to lose.
Is there any point in fighting a war that is destined to be lost?
Some remained silent, neither expressing opposition nor support, as if they were just a mute mass of air.
The rest are mostly pro-war.
How do you know you can't fight if you haven't even tried?
If people are so easily intimidated by superficial data that they surrender without a fight, what's the point of having generals to lead troops into battle? Both sides should just send a bunch of smooth-talking individuals to compete and see whose data looks better. Whoever is more skilled wins. Ha! The one who falsifies the accounts will definitely win.
Yes, the national strength of the Qu Kingdom has been severely depleted.
Does that mean Kangguo is having an easy time?
They weren't completely unscathed either.
The people below were arguing fiercely, but Zhai Le sat on top without saying a word, simply watching the situation escalate.
At first glance, everyone seemed to be thinking of Zhai Le's best interests, arguing heatedly, but in reality, they were all calculating their own interests.
The court officials argued fiercely, gradually realizing that something was amiss.
Why is King Zhai Le silent?
Those who had been intimidated by Zhai Le's forceful methods fell silent one after another.
The room was completely silent; you could hear a pin drop.
Zhai Lecai then asked, "Does the envoy have absolute certainty of victory?"
His back was ramrod straight as a bamboo shoot, a silent, oppressive aura surging forth, his usually affectionate peach blossom eyes now filled with piercing, cold blades. Faced with this pressure, Lin Feng calmly unleashed his power to resist: "I can scatter beans to create soldiers, tell me, how can I be defeated? How can I possibly be defeated?"
Zhai Le quipped, "Creating soldiers from beans? One person's power."
How dare you claim that you have a sure chance of winning?
"Does the King of Zhai think that scattering beans to create soldiers means grabbing a handful of beans or using the power of words to conjure a handful of beans, which then fall to the ground and condense the energy of heaven and earth to transform into golden spears and iron horses? To charge into battle for one person?"
_(:ι」∠)_
I'm so hungry, but I don't want to move.
(End of this chapter)
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