Chapter 340: Diligently Working
When a vast, empty place starts to get cold, it feels even colder.
By the time Second Young Master Jiang entered the palace, it was already noon.
Consort Zhang had already had a row with the Emperor.
An old woman who has gone mad is not to be trifled with.
The elderly Emperor’s face had been scratched up.
How many years had it been since the Emperor had his face scratched by a woman?
And it was the usually composed Consort Zhang, no less.
Moreover, as Consort Zhang went mad, the Emperor discovered that this woman was actually stronger than him.
He felt a bit angry and a bit sorrowful.
Something along the lines of, “You have so many children, yet I only have one.”
The Fifth Prince was his son too; how could he not be heartbroken?
After all, they were an old married couple; the Emperor did not pursue the matter of Consort Zhang scratching his face.
He ordered a thorough investigation.
“If you cannot find the culprit, all those people in the Ministry of Justice will be buried with him.”
Of course, he didn’t say it exactly like that, but the meaning was about the same.
So, having a mother or not really makes a difference; the funeral of The Former Crown Prince was finished in a rush.
As for the Fifth Prince, Consort Zhang caused a scene, and at the very least, the Emperor demanded justice.
Death is a terrifying thing.
What is even more terrifying is dying unjustly without even knowing who the killer is.
The person was already dead; Consort Zhang’s only demand was to find the murderer.
At the same time, she also sent people to the Fifth Prince’s manor to bring his children into the palace.
By the time Second Young Master Jiang arrived, Consort Zhang had already left.
The Emperor was currently feeling depressed.
He had injuries on his face.
Not only was he depressed, but it also hurt.
The Emperor’s skin was not thick, either.
Even though Wen Xin comforted him, he still felt very unhappy inside.
“I am the Son of Heaven, yet I cannot even control my own fate; I cannot even protect my own child, sigh.”
What Jiang Changtian saw when he entered was the Emperor with a scratched-up face.
The Emperor had not given orders to summon the Imperial Physician.
He took it upon himself to have a eunuch quickly bring a medicine chest.
Ignoring the Emperor’s objection, he stepped forward and said, “I am being presumptuous, Your Majesty, but I know medicine. Let me treat you.”
The Emperor indeed felt his face burning with pain.
But because his personality was volatile and unpredictable, the servants dared not take the initiative to call the Imperial Physician.
He himself hadn’t thought of it either, being in a fit of rage.
If it were anyone else, they would have been scolded severely for bringing bad luck.
But Second Young Master Jiang was different; he was not just a subordinate, but his own nephew—family.
The Emperor did not refuse.
Jiang Changtian conscientiously helped the Emperor treat the wounds on his face.
Actually, they weren’t serious; they might have healed on their own if treated later.
Even in her loss of reason, Consort Zhang knew to hold back.
She was here to avenge her son; although she wanted to die, she had to avenge him first.
However, Jiang Changtian treated them as if they were grave injuries.
His movements were gentle and cautious.
Then, he began to talk about the time he treated Feng Ge’er’s wounds.
“Feng Ge’er is my only son. When he was young, he was actually very bright—he had an almost photographic memory and learned everything quickly. But later, Old Madam Jiang deemed me unfilial and lacking in brotherly love, so I couldn’t take the imperial examinations, and Feng Ge’er lost his eligibility too. I didn’t teach him much, so he liked to hang around on the streets.”
Jiang Changtian gave a bitter laugh. “The older sisters at the Yihong Brothel in the county all liked him and even gave him gifts, because even at a young age, he would help them solicit customers.”
This kind of life was likely something the eunuchs and palace maids had never heard of.
The Emperor was somewhat stunned.
He listened intently.
“One day, he came back injured, covered in blood. We were poor. The first thing his mother said wasn’t to ask about his injury, but to ask why his clothes were dirty. It wasn’t because she was heartless, but because that was simply the reality.”
“I know medicine and how to treat external wounds, so I treated his wound and thought it would be fine. He was young and strong with good recovery, and the next day he even ran to the county town himself to buy medicine.”
The Emperor felt his cheeks cooling down.
“And then?”
“I didn’t expect that by the next night, his wound would fester. He developed a high fever and fell unconscious—the weapon used to injure him was poisoned. I hardened my heart, heated a knife until it was red hot, and seared his wound, digging out the rotten parts. It felt as if I were digging out my own heart, bit by bit, gouging out the decayed flesh.”
“Actually, by then, I felt my son was beyond saving. But I thought, I wanted him to look presentable when he went to the underworld. I even drew a flower on his wound so that if I went to the underworld too, I could find my son by that flower.”
“Xia Mei was calculating the family savings to see if we could afford to buy a decent, beautiful coffin for our son. Because in our village, that was highly valued—the deceased are paramount. If there was a decent coffin, perhaps he could be reborn into a better life and no longer suffer.”
Jiang Changtian finished treating the wounds on the Emperor’s cheeks.
He applied some ointment.
The ointment was cool and refreshing, and because it was near his eyes, tears began to well up—a physical reaction.
“I have experienced countless hardships, but I have always thanked the Heavens, because the Heavens returned Feng Ge’er to me—Feng Ge’er didn’t die. That is why I can forgive all suffering, because my son is alive. But Your Majesty, I did do one wrong thing later. The person who injured my son was a guard of the eldest grandson of Old Madam Jiang. He had poisoned his weapon, intending to kill my son.”
“I wanted to avenge my son, so I carefully inquired about that guard and found out he was having an affair with a married woman. I found a way to notify the woman’s husband, letting him return early to catch them in the act. The woman’s husband killed the guard, and I had my revenge. Your Majesty, I am actually a person with a heavy heart, perhaps even a bit malicious, but I do not regret it. If it happened again, I would still do the same, because whoever kills my son, I will fight them to the death. Consort Zhang and you must certainly feel the same way. But Your Majesty, no matter what, you must remember to take care of your own health. Only if you are well can you avenge your child.”
The Emperor was not originally that emotional.
His anger outweighed his sorrow.
But after that whole speech from Jiang the Second, he felt a resonance, and it seemed as if he really began to feel heartbroken for his son.
And then he seemed to perk up.
In reality, his original state was fine, but now, after Jiang the Second’s talk, it transformed into sorrow for his son and a resolve to pull himself together, making him appear affectionate and righteous.
After keeping the Emperor company and treating the small wounds, Jiang Changtian took his leave.
The insignificant thing he did was simply to pick up his superior’s fallen face, patch it up, and incidentally add a few strokes to make it look righteous and noble.
Perhaps this could be considered a new realm of bootlicking.
Flattering a fart that the other person hasn’t even released yet.
Others flatter by praising what already exists, trying hard to exaggerate their praise.
Second Young Master Jiang’s way of flattering is to praise what doesn’t exist, and make it exist.
The path in the deep palace is long, and the schemes are long-winded.
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