Captured by the Emperor After a Successful Faked Death - Chapter 15

Xie Chengyun drifted in his dreams. In a daze, he saw two figures, one black and one white, standing before the bed, and behind them was a scene of the plague.

It was a hell on earth: white bones exposed in the wilderness, not a rooster’s crow to be heard for a hundred miles. People were breaking bones to use as fuel for cooking, trading children to eat, cooking them and crying at the same time.

He wore a cotton mask and wove through the midst of it.

People knelt on the ground, clutching his hands and holding onto his robes, begging him to save them.

Yet he turned and walked away. Countless people cursed him and reviled him.

He watched the suffering of the common people, but he was powerless. He gave the order to seal the city; within the walls, resentment and lamentations echoed, and people said he viewed human life as mere dust.

The weather was dry, corpses emitted a foul stench, and insects swarmed the sky. He ordered the burning of the corpses, and the refugees revolted, shouting for him to die with them.

Death is such a simple thing. If it could make the heavens bring rain and cure the plague, let alone death, even if there were three thousand fires of hell, he would be willing to bear them.

The “Cuckoo Blood” widely distributed talisman water in the city. Xie Chengyun knew he should take the opportunity to wipe out the Cuckoo Blood in one fell swoop, forever removing the root of the trouble.

But after people drank the Cuckoo Blood’s talisman water, there were actually signs of them gradually getting better.

He stood on a tall building, watching the people whose faces were full of hope, thinking: Just wait, just wait a little longer…

“Prime-Minister-Father, Prime-Minister-Father!”

Xie Chengyun was awakened by Zhu Yunyin. He opened his eyes, and the bedhead was covered in safety talismans and soul-summoning banners.

Zhu Yunyin’s tears had run dry over these three days; his eyes were bloodshot.

Xie Chengyun raised his hand to touch his face and said slowly: “I’m fine, don’t be afraid…”

Zhu Yunyin looked at Xie Chengyun, feeling his heart instantly settle.

During the Youlan Terrace Incident, his Prime-Minister-Father had also been like this: one hand pulling him, the other wielding a sword, carrying the imperial decree as he fought for the throne against the late Empress and the Regent.

No one was optimistic about him; even his mother, with whom he had depended on each other for survival in Huaizhou, didn’t want him anymore.

His Prime-Minister-Father’s hands were icy cold as he rode a red-maned horse, cradling him while fighting his way out of the imperial palace.

How disheveled they were at that time, fleeing outside the pass, having no silver, and not daring to reveal their identities his Prime-Minister-Father had relied on weaving grass horses to raise him.

His hands, crafted for calligraphy and painting, were covered in scars from weaving grass; he had transformed from the head of the hundred officials into a fugitive. They slept in the open and ate in the wind, hiding everywhere like wild dogs, but at that time, his “bright moon” shone only on him.

Seven days later, the Marquis of Dingyuan arrived with forty thousand reinforcements. Swords and blades had no eyes, but his Prime-Minister-Father always protected him behind his back.

Rain lashed against Xie Chengyun’s face, and he said: “With me here, don’t be afraid.”

Stroking his hair, he shot an arrow through the Regent’s head from a hundred miles away with just a horn bow, forcing his mother into confinement in the palace.

He taught him to abandon anger and avoid stupidity, blood-washed Jinyang City, and bore the blame of the ages for him.

The noble families were forced to submit, hailing him as the monarch.

His throne had been carved out by Xie Chengyun.

Zhu Yunyin held Xie Chengyun tightly; his Prime-Minister-Father could not die. No one could take his Prime-Minister-Father away, not even the Yama of Hell!

Seeing Xie Chengyun squinting his eyes and about to fall asleep again, Zhu Yunyin hurriedly said: “Prime-Minister-Father, don’t sleep. Tell me another story about Zhuangzi, I beg you.”

The window was not closed, and a strong wind blew through.

A scroll of a painting was blown onto the floor, with the inscription: All is false, do not be obsessed, do not pine, do not force.

A smile appeared on Xie Chengyun’s pale face.

Han Cizhi hurried over to insert needles and guide the medicine.

Fortunately, the heavens were not hostile, and they managed to save a life.

As the sun set, Zhu Yunyin brought in a bowl of medicinal soup. Xie Chengyun looked at the camellias outside the window and smiled: “Look, summer is coming in the blink of an eye. How time flies.”

No sooner had the words left his lips than a fiery red camellia fell to the ground.

It was like a beauty being decapitated.

Zhu Yunyin felt a tremor in his heart. Forcing himself to act as usual, he brought the medicine over and fed it to his Prime-Minister-Father spoonful by spoonful.

Yet, on the second day, all the camellias in Xie Chengyun’s courtyard were chopped down and replaced with ever-green Portulaca grandiflora.

These flowers looked like weeds and didn’t match Xie Chengyun’s courtyard at all.

Xie Chengyun thought the little Emperor liked them, so he let him do as he pleased.

Han Cizhi had always hated Zhu Yunyin, only giving him a bit of face occasionally because he was the Emperor.

But Han Cizhi had to admit that Zhu Yunyin really knew how to take care of someone.

Within just a few months, flesh had grown back on Xie Chengyun’s face. His complexion grew rosy, and he looked no different from an ordinary person.

Xie Chengyun gradually returned the government affairs to the little Emperor. Zhu Yunyin was also promising; Father Xie only occasionally asked a question or two, effectively starting his retirement life early.

Watering flowers, feeding fish, chanting poetry, and painting.

Zhu Yunyin often came to the residence, and Xie Chengyun would unfold a painting and ask him what he thought.

Prime Minister Xie’s words were worth their weight in gold, and his calligraphy and painting were both peerless. During that time, Xie Chengyun’s works were sold at sky-high prices in the capital. Everyone scrambled to imitate them, there were countless counterfeits, and even the price of paper rose along with it.

Su Yingxi stood outside the Prime Minister’s mansion, pacing back and forth for a long time, not daring to enter.

But thinking of the situation in the city, he finally plucked up the courage to knock on the door.

A little maid opened the door, and Su Yingxi hurriedly cupped his hands: “I am Su Yingxi, seeking an audience with Prime Minister Xie.”

Xie Chengyun sat in the pavilion, leaning against a pillar, holding a porcelain bowl, tossing fish feed into the pond in a lazy, unhurried manner.

Red koi swam beneath him; the lotus leaves stretched to the sky in boundless green, and the lotuses bloomed. The scent was fragrant; Xie Chengyun was dressed in white, his eyes gentle.

The sunlight hit his face, and the whole scene seemed like a mirage.

The maid brought Su Yingxi to the lakeside. Crossing the bridge was the pavilion; she gestured for Su Yingxi to go over alone.

Su Yingxi pinched his sleeves nervously. Would Xie Chengyun believe him? Does he still remember him?

As he moved forward slowly, Xie Chengyun heard the footsteps and turned his head.

Just then, a dragonfly landed on his hair; the wind drifted, flowers flew, and the beauty turned his gaze.

Su Yingxi froze on the spot, afraid to startle this heavenly person.

Seeing him not moving, Xie Chengyun couldn’t help but ask, puzzled: “You are?”

Only then did Su Yingxi come back to his senses, hurriedly cupping his hands in a salute: “Junior official, Su Yingxi, Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works, greets Prime Minister Xie.”

Xie Chengyun had become famous young and was known as the “Jade-Faced Yama.” Su Yingxi had visited rashly, and only now did he feel the fear.

His legs went weak, and his body trembled.

Xie Chengyun felt it was funny to see him like this: “I remember you; you were the first examinee in the imperial examination after His Majesty ascended the throne. His Majesty was young, so I presided over the palace examination myself.”

A sound came from above; Su Yingxi felt Xie Chengyun stand up. A moment later, he was helped up by a pair of jade-like hands: “No need for formalities. You came to find me for what matter?”

Su Yingxi thought of the urgent matter, and instead of rising, he flopped to his knees: “I beg Prime Minister Xie to ban Wujin Powder and execute the Cuckoo Blood!”

“Wujin Powder?”

“Wujin Powder is the latest trend in the capital. It is rumored that consuming it allows one to discuss poetry with immortals, abandon earthly filth, and briefly roam the immortal palace.”

After speaking, he knocked his head heavily on the ground: “But according to my observations, using Wujin Powder does indeed make one feel as if they are floating, but it also results in incoherent babbling. After taking it, not only does one’s personality change drastically, becoming irritable and temperamental, but the body also gradually becomes weaker.”

Xie Chengyun knitted his brows: “Before the Flower Festival, I already issued an order to ban the consumption of Wujin Powder. How has it become even more rampant?”

“You did indeed issue an order to ban the powder, but many people in the capital rely on Wujin Powder to find their talent and become famous. Furthermore, a mysterious organization calling itself ‘Cuckoo Blood’ recently appeared, claiming that as long as one takes the Wujin Powder, they can become an immortal.”

“Absurd!”

The porcelain bowl smashed into the lake, and the fish were startled away.

Xie Chengyun laughed in extreme rage: “Since they are humans, how can they become immortals? Immortals are immortals, and humans are humans; there is no such thing as a ‘human-immortal’.”

Su Yingxi knelt on the ground, not daring to speak. Xie Chengyun asked again: “Does His Majesty know about this?”

“This official has submitted memorials several times, but there has been no response.”

At this point, Xie Chengyun finally understood why Su Yingxi had come to visit despite him having put out word that he was recuperating and not seeing guests.

Good, good, good, really too good.

“Where is Gu Minsheng!”

“This official is here.”

Only then did Su Yingxi discover that there was a third person in the small pavilion.

“Take my token and enter the palace immediately. Tell Zhu Yunyin to roll over here and see me!”

“Yes.”

As that person hurried away, Xie Chengyun stood before Su Yingxi and once again helped him up solemnly: “No outsider will know of this matter; I will definitely give you an explanation.”

After speaking, he flicked his sleeves and left.

Xie Chengyun sat in the hall; he truly wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t investigated. Although Wujin Powder had indeed been banned, it was still circulating under a different name.

Immortal Pill what a good “Immortal Pill.”

The Cuckoo Blood’s reputation had already risen in the capital, and many people had joined the cult. Believe in the Nameless God, get the Immortal Pill, become an Immortal. Leave the mortal world, avoid suffering.

Truly good, is this the “peace and prosperity” the little Emperor spoke of?

Xie Chengyun looked at the data in his hands, his heart burning with anxiety, and he actually coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood onto the paper.

He looked at the stained paper, picked up the lamp shade, and burned it to ash.

Supporting himself as he stood up, his heart felt desolate, not knowing what this life was for.

Staggering into the courtyard, the bright moon hung high. Suddenly, he wanted to go out and take a look.

The lights were dim on the long street. Xie Chengyun hadn’t brought a single person with him today. Walking and walking, he came to the Star-Picking Pavilion again.

Looking at the Star-Picking Pavilion, a wave of inexplicable rage burned in his heart, and he turned to leave.

But just then, Xie Chengyun was grabbed by someone.

That person held Xie Chengyun’s arm and tried to pull him inside, saying: “Young Master Ji, you have kept me waiting. Everyone is waiting for you; if you want to put on airs, this isn’t the way to do it.”

“What Young Master Ji? You have the wrong person.” Xie Chengyun was already annoyed, turned his head, and prepared to walk back.

The madam added: “In this world, besides you, Ji Mingyue, who else looks so much like Prime Minister Xie? Don’t tell me you’re going to say you are Xie Chengyun?”

The madam thought Ji Mingyue was still throwing a tantrum, so she walked over and coaxed him softly: “My dear Mingyue, don’t be angry with Mama. Today, the Hu prince Wuhanda will also come. This is a noble person who will cost us our heads if we don’t serve him well; you have to feel for Mama too.”

Wuhanda? Xie Chengyun almost thought he had auditory hallucinations. How could this Hu prince not stay in the grasslands and run to the capital instead?

Raising his eyebrows, he stood where he was.

Seeing that Xie Chengyun wasn’t leaving, the madam was overjoyed: “I knew Mingyue loved Mama the most. You serve him well, and when he leaves, Mama will wrap dumplings for you.”

Xie Chengyun followed the madam into the Star-Picking Pavilion. As soon as he entered, people began to groom and dress him up.

After everything was finished, Xie Chengyun looked in the mirror. Isn’t this just me? It was his own style of dress, and even the way his hair was wound was exactly the same.

A moment later, a sound came from outside the door: “Young Master, the guest has arrived. Mama asks you to go over quickly.”

Xie Chengyun hurriedly went out. The maid led him behind the curtain—noble guests could talk and listen to music behind the curtain.

Obscure and blurry, it was impossible to see clearly; that was what made it most alluring.

Xie Chengyun slowly plucked the zither; he still remembered how the girl had played the zither when he came to the Star-Picking Pavilion last time.

He played intentionally slowly and seductively. It was clearly “Guangling San,” but it felt like a hook, hooking the people outside.

Sure enough, a moment later, that person lifted the curtain and entered.

A beauty with hair like a waterfall, white clothes wanting to fly, slender hands plucking the zither, smiling as he raised his eyes.

The shark-silk curtains were fluttering in disarray. Just as he was dazed, a dagger was pressed against his throat.

Wuhanda raised both hands: “Good A-Yun, this is not the hospitality of your Central Plains. Friends coming from afar should be treated with courtesy.”

“Friends coming through the front door are naturally treated with courtesy. If one flips over the door or climbs through the window without a word, they can be considered thieves.” The dagger in his hand pushed forward: “Moreover, we can’t be considered friends.”

Just as he was speaking, Wuhanda suddenly slapped Xie Chengyun’s hand with his palm. His arm went numb, and the dagger fell to the ground.

Xie Chengyun reacted extremely quickly, immediately flying up and lifting his leg. But the Hu person was sturdy; kicking him was no different from kicking a rock. Wuhanda took the blow head-on and pulled Xie Chengyun into his arms: “Yes, we are not friends, you are my Khatun.”

A large hand stroked Xie Chengyun’s face: “Is it that you in the Central Plains prefer to call it ‘wife’ or ‘madam’?”

Before the words had faded, a slap landed on Wuhanda’s face.