"What happened in Southern Xinjiang? Xu Chengjin was able to keep his temper, but General Chi couldn't? And judging from the Queen Mother's reaction, it must be a big deal..." Zhong Zhiheng tapped the small table with his fingers. He pondered for a while, then suddenly looked at Dai Jingfeng, "What memorials have the Southern Xinjiang camp sent to the capital recently?"
Dai Jingfeng thought for a moment and then said, "Your Majesty, at the beginning of the month, the Southern Xinjiang camp sent a victory report. Half a month ago, the General Zhennan's memorial arrived in Beijing, detailing how to deal with the six small tribes that surrendered this time. There is no other report."
Zhong Zhiheng nodded, thinking that the problem must lie in these two memorials. Was the victory report false? Or was there something wrong with Xu Chengjin's memorial?
He couldn't figure it out for a moment. He frowned unconsciously again. He looked at Dai Jingfeng again and said, "Go to southern Xinjiang in person. I think there is something fishy going on here."
"Yes, I obey your command." Dai Jingfeng responded hurriedly.
~……
June 30, 1934
Ningguta.
Nanshan Villa.
"There was a man called Sun Zichu in Guangdong. He was a famous scholar. He had six fingers. He was honest and slow to speak. He always believed what others said. Sometimes he saw a singing girl at a banquet. He would turn around and leave. People knew that he had this kind of temper, so they tricked him to come and let the singing girl tease him. He was so embarrassed that his face turned red and sweat continued. People laughed at him and spread the story everywhere. From then on, Sun Zichu had a nickname, called Sun Chi..."
The storyteller was eloquent on the stage, and Mei Ya and Xiao An were so fascinated by his words that they even stopped eating the candied fruits and vegetables.
The storyteller finished telling "Painted Skin" two days ago, and today he started telling "A Bao". Meiya had never had the opportunity to listen to a storyteller at such a close distance, and she really enjoyed it. Xiao An had listened to many stories in the capital before, but the rich and noble families had strict rules, and the books they could listen to were limited to a few types. Moreover, they were always surrounded by a bunch of maids and servants, so they had to cover their mouths when they wanted to laugh. So this was the first time for Xiao An to listen to a story so freely.
Zhong Mingwei played a few games of chess with Kong Wenjie in the backyard, but he couldn't stand Kong Wenjie's bad chess. After sending Kong Wenjie away, he leaned on the couch and read a book for a while. He couldn't bear it anymore, so he came to the front yard. He thought the story today was still about "Painted Skin", but when he came in he found that it was a new story. And listening to the storyteller's tone, it didn't sound like a scary or bloody story, so he sat down next to Meiya.
"Didn't you say you couldn't come?" Mei Ya looked at him sitting down, and suddenly looked surprised. She hurriedly grabbed a handful of melon seeds and put them in Zhong Mingwei's hand. "Today, the teacher is talking about "A Bao", which is better than "Painted Skin"."
Then, without waiting for Zhong Mingwei to speak, Mei Ya held her chin and stared at the storyteller. She listened very seriously, without blinking for a long time, with her mouth slightly open. She looked a little silly no matter how you looked at her, but Zhong Mingwei just liked her silly look.
How could there be such a pretty girl?
How come he is so blessed?
Zhong Mingwei looked at Mei Ya's profile and couldn't help but smile, completely unaware that at this moment, in the eyes of others, he was much dumber than Mei Ya.
…
When Zhong Mingwei came in, Xiao An couldn't help but be a little distracted. She glanced at him and Mei Ya from time to time. In fact, she was too afraid of him in the past, and Zhong Mingwei's presence was too noticeable. Then Xiao An watched how Zhong Mingwei fell from an unshakable old man to the stupid son of a landlord. Xiao An's shock gradually turned into a knowing smile, and then she turned her head and continued to listen to the storyteller.
"After returning home, Sun Zichu's old illness relapsed. He refused to eat or drink. In his coma, he called out Abao's name, hating that his soul could no longer go to Abao's home like last time. At this time, he had a parrot at home, which suddenly died. The child was playing with the dead parrot beside his bed. Sun Zichu looked at it and sighed in his heart, thinking how nice it would be if I could turn into a parrot, so that I could spread my wings and fly to Abao's room. He thought so foolishly, but he didn't expect that his body had really turned into a parrot. Without stopping for a moment, he immediately flew out of the window and flew all the way to Abao's room."
At this point, the storyteller suddenly slammed the wooden stick in his hand and said, "To know what happens next, please wait for the next chapter."
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