When he was a child, he particularly hated this day. He hated being sent to the temple hungry. He hated the monks who were like wooden stakes reciting the "Nirvana Mantra" over and over again. He hated the crying of the concubines even more. Whether it was hysterical, or pear blossoms in the rain, or pitiful...
This is his birthday!
Why does it always have to be this way?!
He knew that the tablet on the altar was his mother's. But so what? Why did he have to remind her again and again? Was it his mother's death that brought him a new life?
Is this what he wants? Is this what he can choose?
Is it really his fault?
Or, is he really so unforgivable? Does he deserve to be buried with his mother with his lifelong joy? !
…
He was angry and roared. He even went to the imperial study and had a big fight with Zhong Zhiheng. In return, he was ordered to be imprisoned in the clan house for a whole month. When he came out of the clan house, he had lost 20 pounds and looked like he had lost a layer of skin.
What is the Zongrenfu? It was set up by the order of our ancestors to punish the royal family. No matter how powerful you are, as long as the emperor gives an order, this place is more terrifying than the Ministry of Justice.
So, at the age of twelve, Zhong Mingwei became the first prince of the Great Zhou Dynasty to be punished in the Imperial Clan Court.
After leaving the clan residence, Zhong Mingwei became a different person. The young man who used to be full of flowers and horses and wanted to do whatever he wanted was gone. In his place was the eldest prince who was deep-minded and unmoved by anything.
From then on, every July 7th, he no longer needed servants to wake him up, because he would never sleep, he would sit alone in the study, facing the dark garden outside the window for the whole night, maybe the moon was bright and the stars were sparse, maybe there was thin fog and thick clouds, or there was cold wind and rain, he would just sit there alone, no one knew what he was thinking.
The sacrificial ceremony for Queen Zhenxian was held year after year, and he grew older year after year. When he knelt in front of the altar, his body was no longer awkward and aggrieved like when he was a child, but straight as a pine tree. The "Nirvana Mantra" and the woman's crying voice were still clear to his ears, but he no longer felt so annoyed.
It seems that everything should be as it should be.
The Queen Mother patted him on the shoulder and praised him for being sensible. He smiled but said nothing.
…
Today is the 32nd anniversary of the death of his mother, Queen Zhenxian Xu Siyao.
In previous years, he would have been kneeling on the cold and hard tiles of Baohua Temple by this time, but at this moment, he was in the most desolate and depressed borderland of the Great Zhou. Although he was lying there and living in such a simple house, he felt extremely relaxed, and felt at ease from head to toe.
It was daybreak and he felt a little thirsty. Just as he was pursing his lips, he heard footsteps. As he listened to the brisk footsteps, his lips involuntarily curled up.
"Are you thirsty?" Ah Chou came in with a tray. On the tray were two soup bowls, which Ah Chou had placed upside down on top of the bowls. No one knew what was in them, but it smelled really good.
Zhong Mingwei stared at the two bowls of soup intently, his stomach rumbling, but Ah Chou didn't understand the situation at all. He poured him a cup of tea and handed it to him: "Drink tea first, it's not too hot or too cold, just right."
Drink tea before meals, this is the rule set for him by Achou. He has been lying or lying on the bed all the time, his stomach and intestines digest food slowly and he is prone to food accumulation. After Achou rubbed his stomach for several days in a row, he set this rule for him.
Zhong Mingwei was busy drinking the tea in two or three gulps, sucking the water drops on his lips while staring at the two soup bowls. His former elegance and nobility were gone.
Ah Chou knew that he was hungry, so he opened the upside-down bowl with a smile, and then brought a bowl of hot noodle soup to Zhong Mingwei. Zhong Mingwei stared at the noodles with white steam rising from them. In the white soup, there were orange noodles, a spoonful of bright red chili on top of the noodles, and a handful of greasy green vegetables floating softly on the side.
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