Chapter 74 [VIP]
In his previous life, Chief Minister Song died in July.
Now, his forehead is shrouded in a dense aura of death, and for some unknown reason, his death has come prematurely.
Gu Zhizhuo took out the compass and carefully calculated the results.
The melodious sounds of traditional Chinese string and wind instruments drifted from the direction of the stage, and a voice as pure as a clear spring rang out, gentle and graceful. The theater fell silent, leaving only the plaintive yet tender singing.
The compass needle stopped at a certain position.
"The Yellow Springs hexagram is an ominous sign."
Gu Zhizhuo rested his chin on his palm.
Just a few days ago, she wondered if, if Grand Secretary Song hadn't died, he might have abandoned the current emperor and chosen a new ruler for the sake of the Great Qi Dynasty. Now, however, this has turned into a terrible tragedy.
She looked up at Xie Yingchen: "Young Master, if Chief Minister Song dies, the situation will change drastically, won't it?"
"right."
Grand Secretary Song was like a stabilizing force, maintaining a relatively balanced state in the crumbling court.
If Chief Minister Song were to die suddenly, the court would inevitably descend into chaos, or even collapse.
From a rational point of view, destruction is more conducive to reconstruction.
but.
When the court is in turmoil and government orders are not effectively implemented, it means that the lives of ordinary people who are struggling to survive will become even more difficult.
Xie Yingchen lowered his eyelashes, as if sighing, and asked, "Can it be saved?"
"I don't know." Gu Zhizhu shook his head. "The divination is too ominous; there is no chance of survival."
Moreover, judging from Qin Chen and A Man's experience, once a death calamity comes, one must adapt to the calamity to survive.
Interfering haphazardly is useless.
The death of Chief Minister Song was the will of Heaven.
In the previous life, after the death of the Grand Secretary of the Song Dynasty, the court was in chaos. As a result, when the earthquake struck Qingzhou, no one was in charge, and tens of thousands of people died. Later, Xie Jing took Ji Nanke to provide disaster relief. After that mission, Xie Jing entered the Eastern Palace and became the Crown Prince.
"Young master."
A rather slick man knocked on the lattice window and held in a black tray with a grin. On the tray were two wooden plaques, one with the character "昭" written on it and the other with the character "龚".
Would you like to place a bet?
Gu Zhizhuo asked, "What are you betting on?"
"Of course, we're betting on who will win Qingyi's heart and have a kiss today, and it's this one..." His finger landed on the character "Zhao," "...or it's this one..."
Gu Zhizhuo didn't quite understand, but he saw that there were already a lot of loose silver, silver notes, and copper coins on the table, so he must have walked through most of the theater.
"No bet."
Xie Yingchen's eyes were deep and somber.
The atmosphere in the capital needs to be improved, so she won't always hear all sorts of messy and sordid things outside.
The man didn't press the matter. Seeing that the two were clearly wealthy and powerful, he bowed repeatedly and left, moving on to the next room.
"Sir, would you like to place a bet..."
The sound carried from afar.
"Young master, may I borrow Qin Chen?"
As Gu Zhizhuo spoke, she beckoned to Qin Chen with her finger. Qin Chen leaned closer, eager to try, and asked, "Miss Gu, what do you want me to do?"
"Go and keep an eye on them, but don't let them find out."
"Just staring?"
Qin Chen was a little disappointed. He was still thinking about whether he should beat up Xie Jing and then rescue Chief Minister Song.
"Do you remember that time on Suzaku Street?" Gu Zhizhuo reminded him, "Living towards death."
She fiddled with the compass and said calmly, "Unless it's a situation where you're about to die, don't make a move."
Qin Chen understood. He solemnly clasped his hands in acknowledgment and went out.
He had paid special attention to the footsteps earlier. The private room that Chief Minister Song entered should be two rooms away from theirs. Qin Chen stared at the room at the far corner, turned his foot, and silently hid next to a pillar. The shadow cast by the pillar blocked his shadow.
"Prime Minister, you're late. You'll have to punish yourself with three cups of wine."
A hearty voice laughed heartily. Qin Chen carefully pushed the window open a crack and looked inside.
Besides Xie Jing and Chief Minister Song, the Duke of Wei was also in the private room. The Duke of Wei had obviously been there for some time, as there was less than half left in the small dish of pine nuts in front of him.
"I can't drink anymore," Chief Minister Song waved his hand, unmoved. "I'm getting old, and the doctor said I should drink less alcohol in the future."
Duke Wei poured a full glass of wine, seemingly oblivious to his refusal, and laughed, "This is Fengqu wine. I went to great lengths to get my hands on it; it's very strong. Brother, you love strong liquor, so don't say you can't hold your liquor."
The chief minister sniffed, and a rich aroma of wine wafted over. The wine was mellow and full-bodied. The Duke of Wei had specially used a white jade cup to serve the wine. The liquid in the cup was a pale golden color, and under the midday sun, it looked like flowing gold.
The Prime Minister's Adam's apple bobbed. He could hardly imagine what a pleasure it would be to have a drink like that.
Song, the chief minister, was not such a heavy drinker before.
More than 20 years ago, he had just entered officialdom and went to a small county in the south to serve as the county magistrate. The place was very damp and cold. He stayed there for six years and developed rheumatism. Whenever it rained, his bones would ache terribly. The locals loved to drink strong liquor, so he also drank it. Over time, his alcohol tolerance increased.
Now that the doctor forbids it, he has no choice but to abstain for some time.
Normally, he wouldn't be so bothered by the smell, but as soon as he smelled the aroma of wine, his mouth would go dry. He couldn't help but sniff again, and the rich aroma of wine filled his nostrils. The chief minister squinted his eyes in ecstasy.
"You're such a slowpoke."
Duke Wei drank it down in one gulp with great gusto, splashing out a few drops of golden liquid. Chief Minister Song winced with heartache and couldn't help but curse, "Like a cow drinking water, what a waste!"
Duke Wei laughed out loud: "If wine can make me happy, then it is a blessing."
"Hey buddy, which imperial physician is stopping you from drinking this time? You're good at everything, but you always worry about everything. Aren't you tired of it?"
These words are quite meaningful.
The Prime Minister Song picked up his chopsticks, took a fried peanut, and put it in his mouth. The salty and fragrant peanut slightly satisfied his craving.
Having spent so many years in the court, the Duke of Wei is becoming less and less like a military man. He was clearly talking about himself, having already submitted a memorial advocating for the succession, only to change his mind at the last minute.
To be honest, he didn't want to either.
Having a state-owned heir apparent is a sign of great prosperity.
He won't last more than a few years before he has to retire. The current emperor is not very capable, and Chief Minister Song hopes that at least the new emperor can accomplish something. However, the Third Prince... the Third Prince really gives him no hope at all.
He did not want the country to be in turmoil and war to break out in his lifetime.
The Grand Secretary pretended not to understand and helplessly pushed the wine cup away: "No, no, I'm an old man and I want to live a few more years. I can't ignore the imperial physician's advice."
Xie Jing sat by the window, dressed in a long black robe with gilded accents. He held a closed folding fan in his well-defined hands, and wore a polite smile. He looked every bit the refined gentleman, unhurried and composed, though he hadn't actually grasped the subtle nuances of their exchange.
Seeing that the Grand Secretary was unwilling to drink alcohol, he offered him tea instead.
"I've spent my whole life striving, but I regret it now..." The female lead on the stage sang with a gentle voice, her water sleeves brushing her face as she wept.
"Well sung!"
Duke Wei praised, "Life is all about wives and children, about descendants. Brother, don't you agree?"
"Your grandson is a bit mischievous, but he is exceptionally talented. It's just a pity that he has only just turned fifteen. By the time you retire, he will still be a teenager. Tell me, if no one lends him a hand, his career path will be difficult."
The Grand Secretary Song picked up the teacup, gently skimming the tea foam with the lid, his pupils reflecting the clear green tea liquor.
At the time, he was worried that Prince Chen would cause trouble in court after his return, so he thought it over and over again before submitting the memorial to establish an heir.
However, he underestimated Gongzi Chen.
Prince Chen valued the Great Qi Dynasty, just like the late emperor and the deposed crown prince, prioritizing the overall situation and placing the Great Qi Dynasty first.
After returning to the capital, from his initial silence to leaving the palace and then stepping onto the throne, there was no bloodshed, nor did he shake the foundation of the country. Instead, the emperor "voluntarily" released him from the palace, removing all overt control.
The goal was achieved calmly and unhurriedly.
That day, when Prince Chen stepped into the Golden Palace, the Chief Minister Song seemed to see the once peerless Crown Prince again.
With Xie Yingchen's brilliant example before him, Chief Minister Song now looks down on the Third Prince even more. It's not entirely his fault, is it?
The chief minister, Song, laughed and said, "There are advantages to being slow and indecisive. The Duke of Wei's self-cultivation skills are getting worse and worse these days."
The merit of following a dragon lies in three aspects: first, choosing the right dragon; second, having merit; and third, whether the dragon can leap over the Dragon Gate.
Throughout history, those who chose sides early on rarely met a good end, often losing their entire families.
"Of course, I can't compare to you, Brother Song."
After exchanging a few witty remarks, the Duke of Wei's face darkened. He cursed the old scoundrel in his heart. He downed his drink in one gulp and decided to be more direct: "Brother Song, I think the Third Young Master has quite a lot of ambition, but he's young and inexperienced. He needs the help of us old folks. What do you say?"
"A wise ruler and virtuous ministers, what a wonderful story!"
These words, spoken in front of the Third Prince, carried a somewhat coercive tone.
Prime Minister Song felt he had done something stupid today.
He smiled noncommittally, picked up the wine jug, filled himself with wine, and the aroma made his mouth water.
He drank it all in one gulp.
This liquor is extremely strong; when you drink it, it feels like a raging fire burning down from the back of your tongue, followed by a rich, sweet aftertaste that lingers on your lips and teeth.
Fine wine!
Prime Minister Song secretly praised him.
"Brother, this wine is pretty good, isn't it?" Duke Wei laughed and poured him another cup of wine.
After another drink, Chief Minister Song was already slightly tipsy. He waved his hand and said, "No, no, I'm too old."
"Brother, why be so modest? Third Young Master..."
The Prime Minister, reeking of alcohol, said, "Having lofty ambitions is not enough. Flying too fast and too high will break your wings."
After saying that, he drank another cup. After drinking this cup, his lower abdomen began to feel faintly hot, as if his internal organs were being tightly gripped by a hot force.
"Old fool!" Duke Wei cursed inwardly. He was clearly saying that the Third Prince was incapable of being a ruler. And he said it while drunk, so that once he sobered up, he could pretend nothing had happened.
If the Third Prince were truly capable of ruling, what would he be busy with? They say a new emperor just like the current one would be ideal. Don't they understand?
Xie Jing remained calm. He was unfazed by the Grand Secretary's sarcastic remarks. Gu Zhizhuo's words were far more venomous than his own, often urging him to jump into the water, fall off his horse, or harm himself. Having been subjected to such torment, his mental resilience had improved considerably.
"Don't worry, Your Excellency."
Xie Jing poured wine for them and said with a smile, "The Grand Secretary has also considered this. I am still young and have not yet entered the court, so I really don't know if I can shoulder this heavy responsibility."
"I heard the Third Young Master is here."
A cheerful voice rang out in the corridor, followed by the door of the private room being pushed open from the outside.
The man who entered was a man in his fifties with a thick beard, a slightly dark complexion, and narrow, sinister eyes.
Upon seeing this, the Chief Minister Song frowned deeply.
Duke Wei immediately noticed and hurriedly said, "Brother Gong, what brings us here?"
He meant that he didn't invite the person.
"Come and listen to the music." Gong Hai sat down on his own. The actress in blue on the stage was covering her face with her water sleeves, but her eyes sparkled as she turned her head.
He exclaimed "Good!" and then teased, "These actresses have practiced martial arts since they were young, and their bodies are incredibly flexible. This feeling, tsk tsk, even respectable women can't compare... Third Young Master, would you like to try it? Your elder sister has also tried it."
Xie Jing's face flushed red instantly, and the tips of his fingers holding the folding fan turned slightly white.
Gong Hai pounded the octagonal table and laughed loudly.
"Stop talking nonsense." The Duke of Wei hated his indiscriminate eating and drinking. "The Third Young Master is still here."
"A slip of the tongue."
Despite saying that, Xi Hai showed no remorse.
Premier Song ignored him and stood up, saying with a displeased expression, "I have other matters to attend to, so I'll take my leave first."
"Why did the Grand Secretary leave? I just arrived and you're already gone. We haven't even had a drink yet."
As Gong Hai spoke, he proactively poured the wine and handed it to him.
"Brother Song is my guest, so I'll drink on his behalf." Duke Wei reached out to take the wine cup, but Gong Hai simply shoved it into Song's hand.
The chief minister met his gaze coldly, then suddenly tilted his head back and finished his drink.
He casually tossed the jade wine cup, which landed on the octagonal table and rolled over.
"Good alcohol tolerance."
Gong Hai clapped and praised.
With a flick of his sleeve and a disdainful snort, Chief Minister Song turned and walked out.
"You!"
Duke Wei glared at Gong Hai, who had driven everyone away as soon as he arrived, before they had even discussed their business.
"Why don't you send the Grand Secretary away, Third Young Master?"
Xie Jing readily agreed and got up to follow him out.
“Uncle Song…” he called out.
Chief Minister Song stood before the steps, turning back to wait for him for a while. After several cups of wine, his lower abdomen felt like it was on fire, burning with pain, and his brows furrowed involuntarily.
In an instant, Song's forehead was covered with a fine layer of cold sweat, a metallic taste welled up uncontrollably from his throat, and accompanied by severe stomach pain, he spat out a mouthful of blood.
The hall below was filled with audience members, who were engrossed in the performance when they felt water droplets splash on their faces. One of them touched his face, turned pale with fright, opened his mouth, his throat bobbed, and finally uttered a sound: "Blood!"
More people noticed as they touched the blood splattered on their cheeks and arms, their legs trembling as they looked up to see Song, the chief minister, covered in blood.
"Murder!"
Screams erupted one after another.
The waiter was also taken aback.
But being able to work at the Eastern Depot's stronghold, he was naturally no ordinary waiter. Fearless, he quickly ran to report.
The prime minister coughed up another mouthful of blood, his vision blurred, and then his legs gave way, causing him to stumble and fall down the stairs.
"The Grand Secretary!"
Xie Jing screamed in fright and lunged forward, but a figure in green was a step faster and firmly grabbed Chief Minister Song.
Qin Chen grabbed the man and ran towards the private room.
"Stop right there."
Xie Jing snapped out of his daze and shouted loudly. His limbs were a little weak, but he still chased after them without hesitation.
"stop!"
When the Prime Minister Song left, he had to pass by the private room where Gu Zhizhuo was, so she knew about it early on. As soon as the commotion outside started, she rushed out and grabbed the Prime Minister's wrist.
Xie Jing finally caught up and was about to call out to Qin Chen when his voice caught in his throat, "You, you, how did you get here?"
"I don't have time for you."
Gu Zhizhuo gave a perfunctory reply while observing the large pools of blood on the ground.
The blood was bright red, an exceptionally vivid shade of red.
The Prime Minister had lost consciousness. The blood he had vomited was blocking his airway, and he was coughing lightly without realizing it, coughing up some blood with each cough.
Gu Zhizhuo took out his needle case, removed a silver needle, and inserted it into Song's throat. Song finally caught his breath. However, his breath was extremely weak, barely perceptible.
"Is it... is it poisoning?" Qin Chen looked at Xie Jing and couldn't help but ask. (Luoge Pavilion)
"No, it's a relapse of an old illness."
She released her hand from his pulse and ordered, "Qin Chen, carry him inside first!"
The music had stopped sometime earlier, and the woman in green stood helplessly on the stage.
Chaos erupted inside the Xiangxi Tower.
Some spectators were so frightened that they ran out of the theater, shouting things like "Murder!" and "Go report to the authorities!" This attracted many curious people on the street who peeked out, wondering what had happened. There was a lot of noise all around.
An old Taoist priest stepped over the noisy crowd.
He had white hair but a youthful face, a slender build, and wore the most ordinary blue cloth Taoist robe with wide sleeves. His silver hair was only tied up in a bun with a wooden hairpin, half loose and half combed over his shoulders.
As he moved, his Taoist robe fluttered, and the people surrounding the incense opera house involuntarily made way for him.
"Master, the Fragrant Opera House is right here." The man who brought him over was a man in his forties. He said with tears of gratitude, "Thank you so much for saving my mother. May I ask your name, Master?"
"This humble Taoist priest is Wuweizi."
As he spoke, he stepped into the Xiangxi Tower, where a strong smell of blood filled the air.
Most of the performers in the hall had already left, and the few remaining daring ones had gone up to the second floor to peek around.
Wuweizi looked up at the second floor, lost in thought.
A note from the author:
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com