Chapter 137 That's a Prince!
The Lantern Festival is celebrated on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month.
Early in the morning, the guards stood watch at the east gate of the city. When the watchman's drum sounded, they opened the gate without the slightest delay, even somewhat hastily, to make way for the neatly lined-up guards.
Da da da
With the sound of hooves, armored soldiers marched or rode out of the city gates, lining up on both sides to wait. After that, the other city gates gradually opened, but only a few carriages passed through the two side gates, and few dared to come over.
Half an hour later, an even larger procession of carriages and horses approached from afar.
The army led the way, followed by a yellow flag. Eight horse-drawn carriages approached from afar, majestic and imposing, their orderly footsteps echoing as they passed through the city gate and headed out of the city, raising clouds of dust.
The east gate slowly closed only after the procession had completely disappeared, and would not reopen until the carriages that had gone out returned. The guards on the left and right remained, patrolling high and low, left and right, for fear that someone might be hiding on the wall to assassinate them, as had happened last time.
The royal procession was quite eye-catching when it first set out, its imposing presence deterring anyone from making a move. But once it was over, it was over. Yong'an City had no shortage of powerful and wealthy people. Before long, the flow of people and carriages resumed, coming and going, continuing their daily lives.
Until sunrise
The warm sunlight dispelled the chill, and the morning light spilled onto the top of the mountain, casting its glow and reflecting the wisps of smoke rising from the temple, illuminating the crowds gathered inside.
The weather was exceptionally fine today, making the already bustling Sanqing Temple even more lively, with an unusually large number of people coming and going. Especially under the red thread tree, after the baptism of the Spring Festival, it was densely covered with red ropes, and even the huge ten-meter-high bronze vessel standing outside was filled to the brim with things.
"Your Majesty, please fulfill your vow."
"Be devout, be more devout, and touch your hands a little more."
"Yes, yes, that's it."
...
Niu Tielan stood under the bronze vessel, gently closed her eyes, and made a sincere wish.
She wished for good health so that she could watch her child grow up, get married, have children, and live a carefree life.
My second wish is for my daughter to have a bright future, everything goes smoothly, she is carefree, and all conspiracies are thwarted.
My third wish is that person be safe and well, and never get involved in those troubles again.
My fourth wish is for my parents to be safe and happy.
...
Niu Tielan knew she was being a little greedy, but given how unfortunate she had been in the past, a little greed wouldn't hurt, right?
But she soon realized that one shouldn't be greedy. Because of that bratty girl's interference, she was forced to stand under the wishing device for a long time without being able to say a single wish.
That brat.
Niu Tielan could no longer tolerate it: "All you do is act weird all day long, go play somewhere else."
Looking at her mother's irritable appearance, Song Jin muttered, "The weather is so nice today, why are you so irritable? Be sincere, Mother, sincerity is key, and only then will the Bodhisattva bless you."
Niu Tielan thought she had been very sincere. Even now, she hadn't disciplined the child in front of the Bodhisattva. She curled the corners of her mouth, raised her slender, white hand, and smiled slightly.
Whether a slender palm smells good or not is hard to say, but it certainly hurts when it hits someone.
Song Jin shrank back and pulled Qu Maoze forward, saying, "You're not allowed to hit the child during the New Year. If you want to hit him, then hit him. He's tough and can take a beating."
Qu Maoze smiled and readily extended his hand, saying leisurely, "Go ahead and hit me."
Niu Tielan laughed angrily, glared at the father and daughter, and turned to leave.
Whoever wants to grant this wish can do so. If all the gods in the world were truly that powerful, there wouldn't be so many tragedies.
"I knew she wasn't sincere," Song Jin muttered, referring to the speed at which her expression changed.
Qu Maoze raised his hand and tapped her head, chuckling, "Don't make your mother angry."
Song Jin glared at him: "Don't push your luck."
Qu Maoze chuckled softly, then flicked the hair ornament on her head, indicating that he really had gone too far, and then received a slap in return. He didn't mind, leisurely withdrew his hand, and smiled: "Alright, go play by yourself, I'm going to find your mother."
As he spoke, he turned and walked towards Niu Tielan.
"Annoying."
Song Jin stood there, squinting and fidgeting with her hands. When she saw him walk to her mother's side, she slowly turned around and walked familiarly toward the backyard of the Taoist temple.
She knew this place well. She walked around several front yards and then around the back yard, and arrived at the back hill. There she saw people skillfully roasting chickens in front of a fire.
A sly glint flashed in her eyes as she tiptoed over, blindfolded the person, and said in a gruff voice, "Guess who I am."
For two people with profound inner strength and superb martial arts skills, this game is like having a teapot on a table and asking where the water is hidden.
Not to mention, after blindfolding him, she squatted down, rested her head on his shoulder, and wrapped her two long, strong legs around his waist, thus entwining herself around him.
Qi Zheng remained silent for a while: "Yes, the black bears in the mountains?"
Song Jin grinned: "No, black bears don't like roast chicken."
Qi Zheng remained silent, continuing to guess: "Wild boar?"
I was bitten on the neck.
Song Jin glared: "Guess again."
Qi Zheng: "Butterfly?"
Song Jin: "No, no, that's not right."
...
After several attempts, Qi Zheng asked again, "Spider?"
Song Jin let out a loud groan: "I'm angry."
A smile flashed in Qi Zheng's eyes. He gently turned the person around and hugged them, saying, "Alright, if you keep making a fuss, the roast chicken will get overcooked, you big tiger."
Song Jin snorted twice before letting go of his eyes, lowered her head, and gave him a hard shove on the face. Then she jumped off him, sat cross-legged on the opposite side, and happily began to eat the roast chicken.
Of all the roast chickens she'd ever eaten, Qi Zheng's was undoubtedly the best, without a doubt.
Seeing that she was enjoying her meal, Qi Zheng handed her a teapot to prevent her from choking. He then picked up another marinated roast chicken, skewered it, and placed it over the charcoal fire to roast. The pheasant wasn't large, weighing just over a pound, and was at its tenderest. Soon, it began to emit a fragrant aroma, the oil on its skin crackling and popping, making it incredibly delicious.
Song Jin took a deep sniff, then continued to happily gnaw on the roast chicken in front of her mouth. She didn't eat it all by herself, and even thoughtfully tore off two pieces and offered them to Qi Zheng.
Qi Zheng ignored her oily, dark hands, took a bite of chicken, and grabbed her hand as she pulled it back. He then took out a handkerchief that he had prepared, wet it, and carefully wiped her hands, from her palms to the backs of her hands, and even between her fingers.
He spent many years in the martial world, living a life of hardship and sleeping outdoors. He wasn't particularly particular about his appearance; his clothes were often tattered, and he would eat simple biscuits whenever he came across a river. But whenever possible, he would take a quick bath. Now that he has the means, he bathes even more often, morning and evening. It's hard to smell any sweat or sticky perfume; instead, there's a refreshing scent of soapberry.
Of course, ordinary people should not follow his example, as they are prone to catching a cold and dying young.
Song Jin tilted her head to look at him. His eyebrows were sharp, his nose was high and straight, and he was handsome with a touch of sharpness, making it difficult for people to look him in the eye. At this moment, he was wiping her hands with his head down, very carefully. She herself was not usually this meticulous.
Her gaze was intense, like the blazing winter sun, hard to ignore.
Qi Zheng paused for a moment, and only after he finished wiping did he look up and say, "All done."
Song Jin withdrew her hand and offered her the other, her hand, which she had just wiped clean, was now stained with oil again.
This is normal, though. There aren't any oil-proof gloves or anything like that now, so unless you're using chopsticks, you always have to wash your hands again.
Qi Zheng didn't say anything, but looked at her oily hands and used a wet handkerchief to wipe them clean.
It was repeated once.
Song Jin withdrew her hand, then leaned closer, her phoenix eyes sparkling. She pouted, her lips stained with cooking oil, the meaning clear. Qi Zheng couldn't resist pinching her cheek, and continued wiping her face despite her glare.
In Song Jin's eyes, her boyfriend was perfect in every way, except that he was a bit too old-fashioned and not enthusiastic at all. However, in Qi Zheng's eyes, after years of wandering the martial world, he was already much less concerned with etiquette than the average young master from a noble family.
After all, men and women in the martial arts world are mostly bold and unrestrained, and don't care much about the differences between men and women. But for those suffering hardship, life is already difficult enough, and they have no time to care about such things. He keeps his distance from people simply to avoid misunderstandings and trouble caused by them.
His hugging and embracing of his sweetheart could hardly be considered conservative or old-fashioned.
Unfortunately, he had no choice but to accept Song Jin's 'disdain' because she was completely unconventional and didn't care about worldly matters.
Qi Zheng looked at the face so close to his eyes, lowered his gaze, and gently wiped her face again.
She has an extremely flamboyant personality and a striking and elegant appearance. With bright eyes, white teeth, and fair skin, she is like a blooming peony, charming and beautiful, or like a torch lit at night, flamboyant and fiery. But no matter what kind of appearance she has, she is hard to ignore.
Song Jinming stared at him with her bright eyes, looking at his taut muscles, at his deep eyes, and at his slightly hoarse voice.
He: "It's done."
She grinned, lowered her head, and pressed her bright red lips against his.
Qi Zheng's dark eyes met her excited eyes. He paused for a moment, then pressed one hand against her neck and the other against her waist, pulling her into his arms before biting back hard.
...
Qi Zheng is a busy person.
To be precise, they are extremely busy.
Every day he had to practice martial arts, attend court, teach classes, work shifts, devise strategies, participate in banquets from time to time, interact with officials, find time to date, and solve inexplicable cases.
In general, one should go to the government office for this, but with so many people in the capital, he often goes out and inevitably encounters injustices. Once he does, he can't just ignore them.
And so, after his repeated meddling, his reputation spread.
Yes, that's the prince who grew up among commoners and then returned home.
He's rich; you can always get something by begging from him.
He has power; not long ago, a minister's son harassed a woman, and he fined him in the street.
There was a kind man who, when a cart and horse overturned, startled the driver. Instead of blaming him, he helped to collect the goods.
He was skilled in martial arts. When someone went mad and injured people on the road, he stopped them with a single move.
...
Before Qi Zheng knew it, his reputation had spread far beyond what he imagined among the lower classes.
“Prince Qi is handsome, strong and powerful, with an excellent physique. Last time, I was carrying a load of radishes on my back, and I slipped and twisted my waist. He carried them for me. Those were radishes that the prince carried, and I couldn't bear to eat them. They're still in my room.”
In the messy alley, a small square tea table stands by the roadside, where a group of elderly men and women in their forties and fifties are gathered together, listening to the woman in the middle boast about being rescued by a prince, while the others refute her.
"Keep bragging, you think a prince would carry your things?"
"Exactly, exactly. He was just being kind. Why didn't he have any servants or guards?"
"Don't be fooled."
...
The old woman was displeased: "What, can't the prince come out alone?"
He could get out, but that's a prince; who would believe he'd help carry things?
A group of people started arguing again, each one shouting loudly, determined to determine who was right and wrong, while no one paid any attention to the young girl in brocade robes standing to the side.
Song Jin listened with great interest, munching on melon seeds, until they completely veered off-topic, talking about the flying dragon in the river. Only then did she turn and leave, heading back into the teahouses and restaurants.
These ordinary people at the bottom of society may not have an easy life, but they can be quite entertaining to talk about. She likes to come to these mixed-race places and listen to them tell all sorts of stories, both true and false, big and small.
You often hear things about your own family.
"Hey, have you heard? It's said that there's unrest on the frontier again. The Mo people have launched several attacks from the south, and General Song is about to be reinstated and sent to the frontier again."
"Those hateful Mo people! I really hope General Song will take over the entire north."
"I need to go back and buy more food; prices will definitely go up if there's a war."
...
Upon hearing this, Song Jin blinked, pondered for a moment, chewed on a piece of candy, turned and left, heading back towards the Song residence.
Because of Song Shang's death, none of the Song family members except Song Xingzhi attended court, including General Song Shenzhi, who stayed at home. He spent his days practicing martial arts, reading, and riding horses, enjoying himself immensely.
Song Jin thought he wasn't in a hurry, but now it seems he knows what he's doing and understands that the northern desert can't do without him.
With this person gone, it will probably be years again.
Conditions in the northern desert are harsh, with a lack of food and clothing, as well as natural disasters such as sandstorms and enemy attacks. If something were to happen to him...
Not only will her dowry be reduced by a single penny, but a portion of it will also have to be taken away.
Song Jin clicked her tongue twice, planning to go back and buy him some things. She was familiar with the weather in the northern desert; she had been on a mission there in her previous life and stayed for half a year.
However, the post-apocalyptic desert is a completely different concept from the present one.
Survival manuals are also more useful.
Song Jin hadn't used it for a long time, and was thinking about the small problems and solutions he often encountered in his previous life. He planned to write them down when he got back, and charging him a thousand or ten thousand taels wouldn't be too much, right?
After pondering this all the way, she returned to the Song residence.
As soon as she arrived at the gate, she saw unfamiliar carriages and horses. She raised her eyebrows as she looked at the emblem on the carriage.
It's strange that it's neither the Yang family nor the Cheng family.
What's going on? Now that the year has begun, has the ice between the Song family and other families in the capital been broken?
She clicked her tongue twice, entered the house with this curiosity, and skipped and hopped towards her home. Looking at the courtyard wall where she lived, she was about to jump over and into her own little courtyard.
The maidservant who had been craning her neck to the left and right rushed over to stop her: "Miss, Miss, wait, wait a minute, don't come in, don't come in."
Song Jin asked in confusion, "What's wrong? Has my mother set new rules again?"
Now they won't even let you search your own room?
The maid wiped her sweat, both amused and exasperated: "It's not like that. Someone came to visit, and Madam said you shouldn't rush back."
Niu Tielan's exact words were, "Keep her outside, don't let her in and cause trouble."
Song Jin: "We have guests? Whose family is it?"
The maid whispered, "It's the old ancestor of the Duke of Renguo's mansion."
Song Jin raised her eyebrows.
Oh, the Duke of Renguo's mansion! The only living heir of a duke in the Dayan Dynasty.
She asked, "How old are you?"
The maid wiped away her cold sweat: "Sixty-eight."
In this day and age, sixty-eight is considered a long life; you might be gone in a few years.
Song Jin understood; her mother was afraid she would anger someone to death.
She thought for a moment, and decided that there was nothing interesting about an old woman. She nodded and decided to go to her study to write a book, and started walking away.
The little maid breathed a sigh of relief.
Song Jin stepped back, smiling, "By the way, what brings you here, old lady?"
The maidservant replied, "...I don't know."
Song Jin sighed deeply and said earnestly, "You don't know this or that. You're just a little maid. I'm afraid you'll never become a head maid. I'd better go ask Qiu Tang."
Manyin, who was vying for the position of head maid, widened her eyes instantly and said immediately, "Although I can't be sure, the Dowager Lady of the Duke of Renguo's Mansion is highly respected. If she didn't have an old relationship and was visiting specifically for her children's marriages, it would probably be for the sake of their marriages."
That was the most prestigious Duke's mansion in the capital, deeply favored by the emperor. Even the Emperor respected the Dowager Lady. Normally, if the Dowager Lady wanted to see someone, it would be others who went to the Duke's mansion.
Once power is secured, Song Fu and the Duke of Renguo's mansion are not easily matched, but in terms of seniority, the latter is far superior.
Moreover, when it comes to female relatives, apart from the marriage of the younger generation, there's really nothing else that requires her involvement.
Upon hearing the word "marriage," Song Jin's expression changed, and she quickly climbed over the wall and returned to the courtyard.
Oh no, someone's coming to steal her mother away!
Manyin was left standing there, clutching her sleeve, regretting her own stupidity.
Her journey as a head maid was long and arduous.
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