Chapter 13
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Old Madam Gu absentmindedly took the string of prayer beads that the maid had picked up, muttering to herself, “So soon?”
Eight years ago, during the late emperor’s reign, the Dajing Dynasty signed a ceasefire agreement with the southern Yue Kingdom. As a gesture of sincerity, the late emperor sent his then ten-year-old eldest grandson, Chu Yi, to Yue as a hostage, where he remained for eight long years.
At the end of last year, the late emperor passed away, and at the beginning of this year, the current emperor formally ascended the throne. He immediately began negotiations with Yue to bring Chu Yi back to the country. This was a matter of great national importance, and it became a hot topic in the capital. Many people were worried, saying that the Yue Kingdom might not allow the First Prince to return safely.
Old Madam Gu had originally thought the same and had even secretly hoped for it.
But reality hit her like a bucket of cold water—astonishingly, the First Prince had returned safely to the country!
Xu Momo, unaware of Old Madam Gu’s thoughts, sycophantically added, “It’s truly a blessing from the heavens. The emperor has waited eight years for this day to finally come.”
Old Madam Gu’s expression darkened instantly, and she shot Xu Momo a gloomy sideways glance.
Xu Momo felt a chill run down her spine and quickly continued, “Madam, it seems that the First Prince has fallen seriously ill. The accompanying guards tried to find a doctor to treat him, but not only did it fail to cure him, his condition actually worsened. The guards had no choice but to alert the prefect, and today, the prefect just brought the prince to the Dan Yang prefecture office.”
Seriously ill?! Old Madam Gu’s eyes lit up, and her heart began to race.
If the First Prince were truly gravely ill and didn’t recover, that would be perfect.
The current emperor had always been frail and sickly, with a limited lifespan. If something were to happen to the First Prince as well, then in the future… according to the rites and laws, the ministers would have to request the Empress Dowager, the clan leader, and the grand ministers to choose a suitable new emperor from among the royal relatives.
The current Empress Dowager was the late emperor’s second wife. Kang Wang was her only biological son, holding the status of the legitimate heir and having a reputation for virtue. It was clear that he would be the first choice to inherit the throne.
Old Madam Gu could almost see the grand occasion of Kang Wang ascending the throne, and a burning light flashed in her eyes. Her Rong’er would surely marry Kang Wang, and in the future, as the wife of the emperor, she would become the empress of the Dajing Dynasty, revered by all. By then, their Dingyuan Marquisate, as the empress’s maternal family, would not only regain its former glory but rise to even greater heights!
Old Madam Gu turned slightly and raised her eyes to look in the direction of the Dan Yang prefecture office.
In the sky above, not a single cloud was in sight. The weather had been hot recently, the air stifling and heavy, with not a hint of wind. Both the trees and people seemed listless, moving about languidly. Only the Dan Yang prefecture office in the city center was an exception, as the entire prefectural office was on high alert due to the arrival of a distinguished guest.
An octagonal palace lantern was lit in the hall, its candlelight glowing softly.
“Cough, cough…”
The handsome young man sitting at the head of the room pressed his fist to his lips, his head slightly lowered as he coughed repeatedly. He was dressed in a spotless white robe, his ink-black hair loosely tied, with some strands left to hang freely.
The warm candlelight gently poured over him, coating him in a layer of golden dust. His skin faintly shimmered with a pale golden hue, highlighting his paper-white complexion. The tear mole at the corner of his eye stood out like a drop of blood, giving him a sickly yet elegant beauty.
“Your Highness, are you alright?” asked a middle-aged man standing nearby, dressed in a fourth-rank official’s robe embroidered with clouds and wild geese, bowing slightly as he spoke with caution.
Chu Yi wiped his mouth with a white handkerchief, a faint flush of sickness coloring his pale cheeks. His thin chest heaved slightly with labored breaths.
“I’m alright, thank you for your concern, Lord He,” he replied with a faint smile. His voice was a bit hoarse, but his demeanor remained gentle and refined.
This First Prince’s demeanor is indeed as gentle and respectful as the rumors say, thought Prefect He. Out loud, he said, “I’ll have someone fetch the doctor right away…”
Before he could finish speaking, a servant of medium build quickly walked in and reported to Prefect He, “Sir, Doctor Cheng has arrived.”
Half a cup of tea later, a doctor in his fifties, dressed in a blue robe, hurriedly entered the hall with the servant. He had a square face, a goatee, and wore a black headscarf. Fine beads of sweat covered his forehead and neck.
Doctor Cheng had been forewarned that today’s patient was an important person, so he bowed nervously to both men.
Prefect He, with an authoritative air, ordered, “Doctor Cheng, carefully examine His Highness’s pulse.”
Doctor Cheng repeatedly agreed, then asked Chu Yi to extend his left wrist. He respectfully took the prince’s pulse, focusing intently as he lowered his gaze. The pulse under his fingers was thin, soft, and deep, weak yet slippery, like cotton soaked in water—a sign of deficient qi and blood, even indicating a short lifespan.
The hall fell into a tense silence.
After a short while, Doctor Cheng finally withdrew his hand and wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. He then cautiously said, “Your Highness is suffering from a deficiency of qi and blood, with weakened defenses against external influences, allowing wind-cold to invade. Please allow me to prescribe some warming and nourishing remedies.”
Chu Yi slightly turned his face, covering his mouth with a handkerchief as he coughed lightly a few more times. Xiao Shi gently patted his back, then angrily snapped at Doctor Cheng, “You doctors always talk about qi deficiency and blood loss. When will our prince’s illness finally improve?”
Doctor Cheng, sweating profusely, stammered, “W-We need to administer a few doses first to see…”
Xiao Shi was about to say more, but Chu Yi raised his hand, signaling him to be silent. He smiled gently and said, “Doctor Cheng, my attendant has a rather hasty temperament…”
“No harm done, no harm done,” Doctor Cheng quickly replied, not daring to hold any grudge against someone close to the First Prince.
Soon, a servant prepared the brush and ink. Standing to the side, Prefect He reminded in a lofty tone, “Doctor Cheng, if you need any rare medicinal herbs, just let us know.”
Doctor Cheng nervously agreed several times before quickly writing out the prescription. He then provided instructions on how to prepare the medicine and advised Chu Yi to rest well. Throughout the entire process, he didn’t dare to look directly at Chu Yi.
Chu Yi seemed to sense the attendant’s rudeness and instructed another guard, “Si Hai, escort Doctor Cheng out.”
The unremarkable-looking young man in gray bowed and accepted the order, personally escorting Doctor Cheng out.
The golden light of the setting sun was so bright that it made it difficult to keep one’s eyes open, and the thick, sticky air seemed almost frozen in place. After passing through a moon gate, Si Hai suddenly stopped, extending an arm to halt Doctor Cheng, and asked, “Will the First Prince recover?”
There was no one else around but the two of them.
Doctor Cheng looked nervously at Si Hai, swallowing hard before replying, “My medical skills are limited… but the imperial physicians should have a solution.”
Si Hai stared unblinkingly at Doctor Cheng, and after a silent pause, he spoke again in a cold voice, “Let him naturally weaken and then die from illness. You should be able to make that happen, right?”
The sunlight filtered through the layers of leaves, casting dappled shadows on Si Hai’s face, making his otherwise ordinary appearance look eerily strange. Even though he tried to remain calm, Doctor Cheng’s eyes widened involuntarily, his pupils flickering with unease, and his body tensed up.
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*~ Confessing To An Annoying Boss ~*
The female boss is named Chi Yin.
She has a stunning and radiant face.
Her dress is elegant and her demeanor is superb.
At work, she is efficient and decisive.
She’s a perfect example of a modern, high-quality woman who is both beautiful and capable. If only this woman didn’t keep causing trouble for her.
When the workload doubled,
When perfect drafts were ruthlessly returned with nitpicking,
When she had to work late into the night with only the lonely lamp for company.
Qiao Ziman felt desperate.
But what made her even more desperate was that her few remaining free moments were filled with blind dates arranged by her mother.
One day, after Qiao Ziman calmly finished with the last blind date—another mama’s boy—she received a call from her mother as expected.
Facing her mother’s "frenzy," Qiao Ziman chose to "freak out" in response.
In the choice between "becoming a nun" or "succeeding," she calmly chose "coming out."
Qiao Ziman unexpectedly said: "I like women."
Her mother responded surprisingly: "As long as it's a person."
Her mother became even more relentless, thinking about future blind date scenarios. Qiao Ziman made up a story: "I have a girlfriend, she’s wealthy, has big breasts, is my boss, has a bad temper, is a sadist who will hit me, and I advise you not to make trouble."
Qiao Ziman happily hung up the phone.
Turning around, she encountered the very person.
The person glanced at her own chest and then raised an eyebrow meaningfully.
Feeling extremely embarrassed, Qiao Ziman decided to give up and retorted: "Yes, that’s right, it’s you!"
After saying that, she pretended to leave calmly and gracefully.
According to online sources, after confessing to a boss, the boss would avoid the person to relieve the awkwardness.
Qiao Ziman let go of her worries.
Unexpectedly, the next day, Chi Yin called her into the office.
Chi Yin pulled out a thick stack of notebooks from her bag and solemnly introduced: "No romantic experience, owns a bar, two restaurants, three cars, four houses, and five million in savings. The house will be under both our names, and the bank card password is your birthday."
"Emotionally stable, won't hit people, good work schedule, and runs home after work."
Seeing Qiao Ziman in silence, she added: "Not well-endowed, but if it doesn’t work out, we can find a solution."
Qiao Ziman was baffled: "What does this mean?"
Suddenly, Chi Yin smiled, pure and innocent: "Aren’t you my girlfriend?"
Qiao Ziman was shocked!
Oh no! What if she really meant it?!
=> READ IT HERE <=
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*~ Chasing Jade ~*
Synopsis:
After her parents passed away, Fan Changyu faced a string of hardships—her childhood sweetheart broke off their engagement, greedy relatives wanted to seize her inheritance, and with a five-year-old sister to care for, she decided to take a husband in name only.
Her plan centered on a man she had saved: wounded, with nothing to his name but a strikingly handsome face. They quickly reached an agreement: she would take him in to recover, and he would pretend to marry her, helping her hold on to her family assets.
Once the family business was secure, Fan Changyu prepared to write the divorce agreement, as promised. However, a war erupted, and soldiers were recruited; her “husband” was conscripted and vanished without a trace.
The next time she saw him, he was drenched in blood, lying in a wounded soldiers’ tent. His handsome face was smeared with blood, while his simple soldier’s uniform was torn to shreds. Seeing the hardship he had endured, Fan Changyu’s eyes reddened with tears.
“Don’t be a soldier anymore,” she whispered, her voice choked. “Come back. I’ll slaughter pigs to support you.”
He barely opened his eyes, coughing up blood. “You… wanted a divorce…”
Her eyes filled with tears. “No divorce, no divorce!”
[Mini Theater]
Xie Zheng, the Marquis of Wu’an, became renowned at a young age, his achievements in battle granting him the title of marquis before he even turned twenty. His methods in military command were famously strict and ruthless, making him unmatched across the entire Dayin dynasty.
Recently, however, the soldiers noticed something peculiar about their marquis. He no longer resided in his spacious command tent, preferring instead to squeeze into the cramped and shabby tent designated for the wounded.
Though he’d taken a serious injury—a wound deep enough to bleed through his armor—under normal circumstances, he’d be back on his feet within a couple of days. Yet this time, he’d been lying there for over ten days with no sign of improvement.
The camp’s grizzled strategist clicked his tongue after visiting him. “Hmph. If someone is by your side to wipe your brow and feed you medicine, of course the wound takes longer to heal!”
It wasn’t until the marquis’s mysterious wife—who had never shown herself before—snuck into the barracks, wearing her husband’s tattered soldier’s uniform, and took his place on the front lines, fearing her “delicate, sickly husband” might die on the battlefield. Only then did the “gravely wounded” marquis leap up from his bed in shock, hastily don his armor, and rush to chase after her.
As the blood-red sun set, a lone goose cried across the vast sky.
With a butcher knife in hand, Fan Changyu hacked off the enemy general's head and squinted toward the distant friendly troops kicking up clouds of yellow dust as they approached. She pulled over a nearby soldier and asked, "The one charging at the front, wearing that bright armor with the Qilin shoulder guards and riding that big horse… why does he look a bit like my husband?"
The soldier: …Isn’t it possible that he actually is?
=> READ IT HERE <=
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