Chapter 307: An Orphan and a Widow
In that instant, it was as if Prime Minister Lu saw heavy, goose-feather snowflakes falling outside the Imperial Court.
He felt deeply wronged. He never in a million years imagined that he would be stabbed by someone with a sword right in the Imperial Court.
No one came to save him. At this moment, the long sword swung out, a flash of steel and shadow.
Right in front of the Emperor. The Emperor’s old heart thumped wildly.
His blood pressure likely skyrocketed to 190 in an instant, though he knew nothing of such a thing as high blood pressure. After all, there was nothing to measure it with at the time.
Humans very often easily mistake symptoms of disease for expressions of love. For example: heart palpitations, high blood pressure, hormonal imbalances, mental instability…
It had been many years since the Emperor had seen anyone draw a sword so close to him.
The operas and dances he watched all used props. If anyone dared to use a real one and was caught, they would face execution of their entire clan.
Even when watching executions or such, he was always at a great distance, and besides, the Emperor had no hobbies of that sort.
Dragging people out and deciding how to handle them was his subordinates’ business; he only needed to be reported the result.
Everyone in the world was playing a game, competing to see who could come closest to guessing the Emperor’s thoughts. In this moment, not a single person guessed the Emperor’s thoughts.
Watching Princess Huiyun raise her sword and stab Prime Minister Lu directly. As the sword swung, it reflected the bright candlelight of the great hall. It was as if it had injected a ray of light into the Emperor.
It was just like the era dominated by Princess Huiyun. Everything Princess Huiyun did was filled with aesthetic appeal and could set trends.
Watching her kill someone in the Imperial Court, in this situation, what the Emperor thought was surprisingly also to kill. He wanted to take the sword and do it himself.
The court officials all retreated in unison, stepping back to form a large circle. Princess Huiyun did not play by the rules of martial virtue.
The civil and military officials would fight in the Imperial Court, but it was always bare-handed: pulling hair, hitting faces, kicking stomachs, tickling armpits. The most cunning ones would at most use a memorial to hit others.
But they dared not use too much force, lest the memorial break and they be charged with the minor crime of destroying public property. It was mainly using hands, feet, and their bodies.
When court sessions became heated, it wasn’t uncommon for two officials to fight, rolling around on the floor like two twisted dough twists.
When political views differed, they would express their own swords. But it couldn’t be a real sword! Using hands as swords, mouths as swords, buttocks as swords…
If they brought real swords, the attrition in the court would be too high, and in a few days, there wouldn’t be many officials left. The court officials avoided her. The Emperor was dumbfounded.
Vice Minister Jiang held the child in his arms, not wanting her to see the violent scene. Princess Huiyun had pierced Prime Minister Lu with one strike. The Emperor, as a spectator, finally snapped back to his senses.
“No nonsense,” the Emperor chided.
Prime Minister Lu’s eyes widened, staring at the sword in his chest. No, wait—he had worked conscientiously for so many years, sleeping no more than three hours a day, mostly just two. He had been impaled in front of the Emperor and felt like his life was ending, yet in the Emperor’s mouth, it was just the word “nonsense”??? It was chilling.
At this moment, Prime Minister Lu felt deep despair; his heart ached, it ached so much. It hurt more than the sword wound. Of course, the sword piercing his body was also extremely painful.
He felt absurd, pained, and incredulous, along with immense regret. Why did he bother serving such an Emperor? If he had known, he should have rebelled against him.
Princess Huiyun pulled the sword out of Prime Minister Lu’s body and threw it on the ground. As everyone knows, a sword in one’s body shouldn’t be pulled out casually; it is safer to go to a doctor and let them pull it out, as the object acts as a plug for the wound, preventing death for a while.
If you pull it out directly, the wound bleeds continuously, which is actually more dangerous. Princess Huiyun pulled the sword out, threw it on the ground, and brought out a trail of blood.
However, no one noticed the blood. They only saw the Princess stomp her foot. She said aggrievedly, “Imperial Brother, didn’t you say you would take care of me for my whole life? How long has it been since I left, and you are already conspiring to bully my son? Can you not stand to see me as a widow with an orphan? I finally found my long-lost son, and you actually want him dead. Whoever dares to bully my son, I will kill them.”
When Princess Huiyun said this, the people around her—oh my god. How could there be someone like this? When she spoke of killing people, everyone else had only one thought: Is my head enough? Do you need more? I can do it too; my neck is thin and easy to cut.
There is a type of person, beautiful without knowing it, charming naturally. When she says, “Go die,” people want to line up and fight to die. It was too terrifying.
With the sword pulled out of his body, Prime Minister Lu could no longer stand and finally collapsed. He did not want to die; he felt he was truly going to die. As luck would have it, he collapsed right in front of Vice Minister Jiang.
In that instant, Vice Minister Jiang displayed a fearless humanitarian spirit. He pushed his daughter in his arms behind him and reached out to catch the falling Prime Minister Lu. His hand tightly helped press down on the bleeding wound.
Prime Minister Lu’s eyes bulged with rage. Lying there, from the angle of his chin, he saw Vice Minister Jiang. How could someone still look this good from this angle… “It hurts, it hurts, it hurts…”
It hurt even more than when he was stabbed. Someone was pressing on his wound, and he couldn’t even scream because that person was pressing on his wound with one hand and choking his throat with the other.
At this moment, Jiang the Second was heavily pressing on his wound and throat. He couldn’t make a sound, only twitching with a “goose, goose, goose” noise.
“Father is slightly proficient in medical skills, Mianmian, don’t be afraid, it’s fine,” Jiang Changtian whispered to his daughter.
The court officials couldn’t attend to Prime Minister Lu for the moment. It was as if a vast field of melons had been laid out before them; the melons were simply endless. Everyone was too busy to pay attention to Prime Minister Lu.
The information in Princess Huiyun’s words was too immense. Don’t say “orphan and widow,” the Imperial Son-in-law is still alive. Heir Han is still around; just yesterday, I saw Heir Han listening to music in a brothel. If Jiang the Second is your son, then who is Heir Han?
Everyone suddenly felt that the Imperial Son-in-law was wearing a green hat, but at the same time, they were curious about who gave birth to Heir Han. Who exactly cheated on whom? With a wife as beautiful as the Princess, could the Imperial Son-in-law still go and find someone else to have an heir?
If this Jiang the Second was Princess Huiyun’s son, thinking about his experiences, it was too tragic. Because today was a trap set for Jiang the Second.
From a young age, he was called unfilial and brotherly-disrespectful, unable to take the imperial examinations, involved in rebellion, granted amnesty, crawling all the way to the capital, every step fraught with danger, finally at the Imperial Court, then impeached. Prime Minister Lu had prepared seven charges to suppress the newly emerging Jiang the Second, to crush him—this is life.
Autumn grass meeting frost, fish facing dry land, unable to escape misfortune, the long night of darkness, abyss beneath the abyss. This was Jiang Changtian’s original fate. A life full of obstacles, sorrow, and resentment.
At this moment, Mianmian, behind Jiang Changtian, covered her eyes with both hands, fingers spread apart, watching through the gaps that Father’s gesture for pressing the wound was wrong. The way Father was pressing didn’t stop the blood; it flowed even more. But Father must be too nervous and pressed the wrong spot. Father really is a great philanthropist, completely unconcerned about avoiding suspicion.
“Father, do you want me to help press? I have a lot of strength,” Mianmian said.
“No need. Although Prime Minister Lu is determined to have me killed and has framed me with so many charges, Father cannot watch him die. After all, it is a human life. If he dies, it would put the Princess in an unjust position. Mother acted impulsively for my sake; Mother has never hurt anyone in her life, and I cannot let Mother carry guilt.”
Jiang “The Guilty One” “The Great Filial Son” Changtian said in a whisper that was just loud enough for the people around him to hear.
As he spoke, he pressed hard on Prime Minister Lu’s wound. The whites of Prime Minister Lu’s eyes were almost rolling back. He originally didn’t have to die; given the location of the sword wound, he estimated he could still survive. Now, he wasn’t sure…
He just regretted it. If he could do it over again, he would absolutely not choose to fall in this direction. At the very least, he would fall farther away from Jiang the Second, Prime Minister Lu thought, twitching all over. No, that’s not right—if he could do it over again, he would absolutely never pay attention to Jiang the Second again; he would roll as far away as possible. If he could do it over again… Prime Minister Lu couldn’t scream; he tried hard to lift his hand, but no one noticed him, and his hand eventually fell limply…
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