Chapter 198 From now on, the oath is withdrawn
The women went into the main hall to rest and chat, while the men sat upright with serious expressions.
"So your leg is healed?"
Xiao Ji nodded. "That miraculous doctor treated me and gave me some ointment. As long as I take good care of myself, I will be able to recover. Now, as long as I don't walk too much, I basically don't feel any pain in my legs."
Yao Chongchun burst into tears and grabbed Xiao Ji's arm: "That's good, that's good... God is really merciful. Are you grateful to that miracle doctor?"
Xiao Ji nodded, but did not reveal Qing Wu and Grandma's identities. It was not the time to announce these things yet.
However, they had no time to find out who this "miracle doctor" was. Their attention was all drawn to the fact that Xiao Ji had hidden the recovery progress of his leg injury.
No one present was a fool. Why did Xiao Ji pretend to be in poor recovery? It was all to reduce the threat level in the eyes of others.
Some people do this to protect themselves, while others lie dormant and secretly accumulate strength. The reason for accumulating strength is self-evident.
"Xue Nu, are you doing this to get back to that position?"
As soon as Yao Chongchun asked, he felt that his question was a bit redundant. How could a person who had been the crown prince for more than ten years be content with the position of prince? Moreover, this position of prince could not be the end from the beginning. If another prince ascended the throne, who would tolerate him, the legitimate son of the previous emperor?
At this moment, Yang Gong suddenly coughed loudly several times, attracting everyone's attention: "What are you doing?"
"Such a big thing, you two teachers and students are so easy to say? We are still here."
If it were in the past, Xiao Ji would naturally not talk about the fight for the throne in front of his grandfather and uncle. His mother always said that his grandfather was timid and submissive, and the Yang family had no intention of participating in the fight for the throne. But judging from what happened today, it was obvious that his grandfather did not agree with what his mother said, if intercepting prisoners could be considered timid.
"Grandfather, you and uncle are both my blood relatives, you will never harm me." Xiao Ji smiled slightly, his tone firm, which made Yang Gong feel helpless and distressed.
Obviously, the timid image he had created during his years in power had been shattered in front of his grandson, but he still tried to salvage it. After all, he really didn't want to get involved in those things...
But before he could say anything, his son had already assured him, "Don't worry, Xuenu, what you said today, from your mouth, will be heard by the three of us, and no one else will know. You are talking about me, I am your uncle. If your plan can be of use to your uncle, uncle..."
Before he could finish his words, Yang Gong gently scolded him, "What are you talking about? Have you forgotten your father's oath?"
But this time, Yang Xuchuan opened his eyes and looked at his father. "Dad, you actually know that Xuenu is Linghui's son. He is your grandson and my nephew. Our Yang family can't escape this."
Yang Gong slowly lowered his head, a trace of pain flashing in his eyes: "Xuchuan, you..." He knew it all. But he really didn't want to see his relatives die again, didn't want to see blood again...
"Father!" Yang Xuchuan's eyes were red and his voice was choked. Xue Nu was here today, and he had to say some things.
"Three months ago, we watched Ji'er kneel in front of Zichen Palace for an entire day. At that time, I thought, if my sister were still alive, seeing her son suffer like this while her family stood by and did nothing..." He pounded his chest fiercely, "As her uncle, how would I have the face to see her in the afterlife?"
The courtyard was silent for a moment, with only the rustling of bamboo leaves. Xiao Ji said softly, "Uncle, there's no need for this. You and Grandfather can just..."
"Shut up, don't say anything yet." Yang Xuchuan interrupted him and continued to look at his father. "Dad, you always say that the Yang family should be cautious and protect themselves. But Ji'er has half Yang blood in his body! If he loses, can we really stay safe?"
A sharp glint flashed in Yang Xuchuan's eyes, but he lowered his voice even more: "Father, do you think those princes will still remember the kindness of our great-grandmother?"
He sneered, his knuckles clacking against the stone table. "In the royal family, aren't there enough cases of fathers and sons turning against each other, and brothers fighting each other? Great-grandmother's blood relationship has long been thrown into some corner!"
Yang Gong's head drooped lower and lower, tears welling in his eyes. Seeing this, Yang Xuchuan knelt on the ground, "Father! This is the only time I'm begging you—" When he raised his head, tears streamed down his cheeks. "Please help Xue Nu! Consider it compensation for Ling Hui... and Mother. Mother loved Xue Nu the most back then."
The Duchess's wife died when Xiao Ji was four or five years old. At that time, the Duchess's wife had only this one grandson and loved him very much. She was still thinking about seeing this grandson when she was dying. However, the palace rules were strict, and when the queen and the prince rushed out of the palace, the Duchess's wife had already passed away.
The last sentence was like a blunt knife, piercing Yang Gong's heart. The old man's back suddenly became hunched and desolate in the twilight, his hands, covered with age spots, tightly gripping the teacup, trembling slightly.
After a few breaths, Yang Gong raised his eyes to look at his grandson. The face that was somewhat similar to his deceased daughter and deceased wife made him feel a pang of pain in his heart.
Hasn't he been deceiving himself all these years?
The eldest daughter Linghui entered the palace as queen, but eventually died in her prime, leaving him with a young child to see off her. The second daughter Lingqian resented him for marrying her down and lived a mediocre life, with her children becoming ordinary people. The eldest son Xuchuan was talented, but due to family precepts, he could only be an idle civil servant.
The eldest and second grandsons, each one a Jinshi (Jinshi) at a young age, and each one held a top position. However, due to the family motto of "keeping oneself prudent and self-protective," they were prevented from pursuing their ambitions in the capital, each serving as an official far from home. It seemed that the youngest grandson would also follow the same path...
Is it really right for three generations of a family to be like this?
Can not competing and avoiding the sharp edge really make others restrain themselves?
Yang Gong suddenly remembered the day when Linghui asked to enter the palace to be the queen. If he had been tougher at that time, rejected this proposal, and rejected Xiao Yuancheng's suggestion, would the outcome have been different?
Even if my daughter marries an ordinary man, she should be able to save her life, right?
The old man's hands, which had been shaking all the time, suddenly began to shake more violently, and the cup was knocked over. The spilled tea flowed down the stone table and soaked his sleeves.
He lowered his head and looked at the puddle of water, as if he saw the talents and ambitions of the Yang family members that had been suppressed over the years, just like the tea, silently soaking in and silently dissipating.
No one will remember, no one will care except the Yang family.
The beliefs that I have always held firmly have long become shackles that bind my descendants.
They are still alive and well, but this is just an attempt to cover up the truth. As long as Xiao Ji falls, the Yang family will be liquidated by the next emperor. By then, the descendants of the Yang family will not only have a limited future, but no future at all. The Yang family will also fall from a first-class family to a poor family... or perhaps even more.
This regret has actually taken root in my heart a long time ago, but it only finally broke through today.
Yang Gong was silent for a long time, then looked at Yao Chongchun: "Master Yao, what do you think?"
Meeting Yang Gong's gaze, Yao Chongchun's old eyes suddenly moved, and he slowly stood up, "Yang Gong, you are my savior, I shouldn't ask you for anything anymore, but..." He looked at Xiao Ji, his lips trembling.
The great scholar actually knelt down before Yang Gong, knocking his wrinkled forehead against the bluestone slab. "Yang Gong! I've never begged anyone in my life, but today I'm licking my old face and begging you to help Ji'er!"
He raised his head, tears welling up in his cloudy old eyes: "I am now an old man who cannot see the light of day, and there is really little I can do for him. But you, Mr. Yang, are different..." As he said this, he was about to bow again.
The startled Yang Gong finally reacted and hurried to help him up. Xiao Ji also hurriedly grabbed the teacher.
"Teacher, what are you doing?"
Then he was scolded by the teacher, "Get out of here!" But how could Xiao Ji bear to see his uncle and teacher kneel down for him? He simply lifted up his robe and knelt down as well.
Yao Chongchun didn't care about Xiao Ji, and just held on to Yang Gong's clothes tightly, "I know I don't have the nerve to do this..."
“That’s enough!”
Looking at the three people kneeling in front of him, Yang Gong shouted.
Yang Gong's voice echoed in the courtyard, startling the birds in the bamboo forest. He stretched out his hand tremblingly, but he didn't know which one to help first.
"You..." The old man's voice was hoarse and his throat rolled. "It's my birthday. Are you trying to shorten my life?"
However, Yao Chongchun insisted, "Mr. Yang is my savior, and he deserves my kneeling." As for the other two, there is no need to mention it.
“You guys…” Yang Gong gritted his teeth, but his eyes turned red the next moment.
The courtyard was eerily quiet, the only sound being the rustling of bamboo leaves in the wind. Yang Gong's gaze slowly swept over the three kneeling figures—his son, his grandson, and his friend. The faith he had held fast to all these years suddenly collapsed.
"Forget it..." The old man sighed and took out a yellowed silk handkerchief from his arms tremblingly. It was the first complete work of his daughter when she first learned to embroider a handkerchief, so he has kept it until now.
Yang Gong stroked his handkerchief, turbid tears dripping onto it: "Linghui... your father... is sorry for you..."
Seeing this, Xiao Ji's eyes turned red. He knelt forward to comfort her, but Yang Gong raised his hand to stop him.
When he looked up again, his old eyes, which always appeared gentle and timid, suddenly shone with a sharp light:
The old man suddenly picked up the celadon tea bowl on the table and slammed it to the ground. With a crisp "crack," porcelain shards flew everywhere. Then, with a plop, the old man fell to his knees, looking up at the sky and saying,
"Gods and Buddhas above! Yang Su is here today——"
He slammed his forehead against the ground, making a dull sound. "I take back everything I said in the mourning hall twenty years ago! If there is any punishment, I will bear it."
The rustling of the bamboo forest in the courtyard seemed a divine response. Yang Gong trembled as he stood up and pulled out the silk handkerchief he had treasured for years. With trembling fingers, he brought a corner of the handkerchief to the stove where water was boiling.
"Grandfather!"
"father!"
Amidst the crowd's exclamations, a corner of the silk handkerchief was engulfed in flames. Yang Gong stared at the dancing flames, his murky old eyes gleaming with determination: "From now on, the Yang family will do everything in their power to help Xue Nu. We will live and die together!"
The burning silk handkerchief slowly drifted down, turning into tiny specks of flying ash. Just then, a summer breeze blew through the courtyard, picking up the ashes like countless dancing black butterflies. After circling above everyone's heads several times, it slowly dissipated into the sky, as if carrying this oath to the heavens, comforting those souls who should know.
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