Chapter 508: Chapter 503: Destroy Before Renewal, Then Comes Fortune

The pedantic old ministers tirelessly made their points, barely pausing for breath, vehemently denouncing Liang Yue at the border as shameless individuals. They also mentioned the palace being burned and the flooding disasters as warnings from the heavens.

With everyone speaking in turn, not a single word was repeated.

Emperor Ying couldn’t find an opportunity, having no way to get rid of Wei Zhao.

He didn’t even have a chance to interject.

Several Black Shadows hidden in the corners, with weapons ready, exchanged glances.

Emperor Ying was frustrated and didn’t want to listen anymore.

He wanted to lash out.

But these people would only become more excited with anger.

And it was led by those four old ones.

At this critical juncture, with internal and external troubles, they couldn’t fight, nor could they kill all of them.

He didn’t know how long it took, but Emperor Ying’s ears were already calloused.

"Alright, all of you step back, I have matters to discuss with Gui Zhi."

"Holy Emperor! We ministers came here precisely to offer strategies and advice!"

Emperor Ying: ...

He laughed angrily.

The four old ministers who had assisted the late Emperor and the Retired Emperor had come over; he didn’t believe there was no connection with Wei Zhao.

Looking at the other civil servants.

They’re usually irritating, but they know their place and don’t dare to overstep. Even the Imperial Censorate officials gauge the looks of others.

Now that someone was leading them, it was getting out of hand.

His sinister gaze fell upon Wei Zhao.

The latter, however, appeared respectful, slowly bowing and saluting, "What instructions does the Holy Emperor have? I will certainly exhaust myself in service."

"What’s all this talk of death and dying, it’s truly unlucky. Let’s not mention it again."

Duke Xian interjected, "We old fellows are still living well. How would it fall to a junior like you?"

However, he paused slightly.

"Indeed, many of the Wei Family’s descendants have short lives."

With age comes verbosity.

He couldn’t help but worry, "Your mother has had it hard. She sent off your grandfather, then your father and uncle. If she has to send you off next, she probably won’t bear it."

"Your father-in-law, Fu Ju, also has to call me Uncle."

"He is famous for doting on his daughter, and now that your bride has just returned, he will most likely have her remarry."

Marquis Xiu Ping nodded in agreement.

"Your bride is indeed good, busy assisting disaster victims, it shows her integrity. If she remarries, many would want to marry her."

For this, Duke Xian expressed, "Your grandfather was not great, maybe out of guilt he hasn’t dared to enter my dreams these years, so I have no one to vent my wrath upon. But you, the young one, I am quite satisfied with. Should she remarry in the future, I would be willing to act as a matchmaker."

"A woman’s youth passes easily, how can one let her guard an empty boudoir, wasting away her prime? This is not the path of kindness and forgiveness, you must be reasonable and optimistic, not lose the benevolence and generosity of sages."

Wei Zhao: ...

Thank you very much indeed.

Fortunately, these people did not forget the main business, and after returning to the topic, they were back with a large heap of references and quotations, during which they had disagreements while offering plans, nearly starting a quarrel.

Like shrews in a marketplace, the noisy clamor shook the dust from the palace beams, buzzing like a thousand green-headed flies crashing into one’s ears, causing the temples to pulse painfully.

Emperor Ying’s patience had completely run out.

"I am unwell, all of you leave now."

Wei Zhao gracefully stepped back.

And the others...

Remained.

Firstly, out of concern for the monarch, and secondly, at this critical moment, even when unwell, one must hold up. You are the monarch; isn’t it right for you to bear this heavy burden? Not resting well for the people these days is all the more expected.

The Holy Emperor could lie on the couch, close his eyes and rest while they argue out a result, couldn’t he!

For three consecutive days, there was no news from the Imperial Palace of Emperor Ying summoning Wei Zhao.

The disaster areas were indeed multiplying. Meanwhile, the reinforcements dispatched had yet to arrive, and the border was about to be breached.

Bao Pu sat inside the hall, leaning against a dragon-carved pillar.

He does not know where it came from, but he began shaking a cylindrical lot.

With a clatter, one fell out.

The red stick emerged from the blue tube, seeming to have thunder-like cracks across purple sandalwood. An engraved inscription at the front still bore blood, transforming ill omens into auspicious ones, with images of lotus blooming.

He picked it up.

"The road ahead is perilous, yet heaven’s mandate continues, after breaking comes establishing anew, bringing future blessings."

"A good omen."

————

The wind grew tense, whispers filled the streets like mice gnawing.

The situation was tense and increasingly uncontrollable; the people of Da Jin were growing more discontented, blaming the emperor’s lack of benevolence for the calamities from the heavens.

The sky was dark and heavy, clouds thick, occasionally a muffled thunder rolled across, indistinguishable from night or the brewing of a storm.

The comforting notices posted before the Government Office were torn down again, with remnants of paper left where the paste hadn’t dried.

The fierce wind swept the ground, brittle branches clawed at street doors like skeletal claws, wailing like wandering spirits.

"This weather changes day by day, yesterday it cleared up, but now it seems it’s going to rain again."

An old woman clasped her grandson’s wrist tightly, hurrying along, stepping on brittle leaves with a rustle, mingled with the night watchman’s clapper that sent chills down one’s spine.

"Come, let’s hurry home."

No one else was in sight.

The only lantern they held puffed out with a hiss, extinguished by the wind.

Everything was pitch black, and the road ahead was no longer visible.

"It’s really spooky."

She groped her way forward, murmuring her instructions.

"It was wrong of you to steal money, you deserved to be punished by your mother, but you with your temper, just like your father! Running out of the house like this. Your mother isn’t in good health and was extremely worried. Listen to your grandmother, go back and apologize with a bow."

The eight-year-old child pouted.

"Is it bad to be like father?"

"What good is it?"

"Everyone says father was incredibly capable."

"He was capable, back in the day he was chosen by the Wei Family Army."

The old woman, proud yet reminiscing, "The Wei Family Army’s treatment was great. Our family was really poor back then. Your grandfather was a scoundrel, leaving a mountain of debt when he died, and as a woman, I had no choice but to take your father and hide everywhere, with the debt collectors relentlessly pursuing. If it weren’t for your father, how could we have settled those debts and settled in the capital? How could we eat meat every meal? People in our alley say I have good fortune, with a son who succeeded and a daughter-in-law who is filial."

"But what use is being capable?"

The old woman’s voice trailed off into the night.

"He still died."

Leaving behind a widowed mother, a bereaved wife, and a baby to care for.

Yet... the Wei Family Army was wonderful, never forgetting Brother De’s sacrifice.

Every time the Wei Family Army returned victoriously, there were comrades who had fought alongside him, coming to visit.

Moreover, besides the pension silver, the families in Shangjing could go to the Duke Shun Mansion at the beginning of every month to collect rice and money, while those from other parts went to their respective Government Offices.

The Wei Family Army informed them through this practice that the men only needed to charge into battle; their parents, wives, and children were being looked after.

No other military camp offered such good treatment.

"Grandma,"

The child’s innocent voice came through, "I hear the sound of horse hooves."

"A lot, a whole lot."

At this hour, how could that be possible? Moreover, riding horses was not allowed on Shangjing’s streets. The old woman paid it no mind, "Nonsense, trying to fool Grandma again."

"I really heard it."

The child pointed behind him.

"They’re coming towards us."

Soon after.

The ground began to gently tremble, green tiles on the roofs shuddered, and a mass of iron cavalry ripped through the night.