Ji Hong instinctively took a step back, widening the distance between himself and Ji Jinmo.
How had he not known before that his Imperial Uncle had such… such a peculiar hobby? Truly… extraordinary, exceptionally outstanding!
At this moment, the Emperor of a nation had forgotten to conceal his true thoughts. The words "sarcastic and startled" filled Ji Hong’s face.
Ji Jinmo narrowed his phoenix eyes, his pale pink lips curling into an attractive arc. He fiddled with his prayer beads, remaining silent. His dark, deep eyes seemed to swirl like a vortex, capable of swallowing everything within his sight. The air appeared to stagnate, and Ji Hong felt the air around him thinning and thickening, a cold wind spiraling from above and drilling into his collar. Ji Hong shivered inexplicably.
After a moment of stunned bewilderment, Ji Hong finally realized something was terribly wrong!
Sweat beads seeped from his forehead and temples. The Imperial Majesty’s might had completely vanished, no longer present!
“Imperial… Imperial Uncle, Imperial Uncle is truly observant, exceptionally insightful. Imperial Uncle can immediately discover these minute details that others would not notice. You are truly a pillar of the state, incomparable to ordinary mortals. With Imperial Uncle presiding over Linyuan, it is truly my good fortune, the good fortune of the people!!!”
Ji Hong spoke with great sincerity, and when he said "my good fortune," he even clasped his hands to his chest in excitement. He even wanted to squeeze out two drops of tears to prove his absolute sincerity, that he was definitely not like those spineless literati and scholars flattering him!
Ji Jinmo felt that if his Imperial Brother had any spirit in heaven, he would surely find his son very lovable and might even come down to play with him, thus compensating for the regret of not being able to protect him as he grew up.
He slightly lowered his gaze, his eyelids hiding his sharp pupils. Ji Hong secretly breathed a sigh of relief, unable to help but praise his own wit.
However, speaking of which, Ji Hong had met Yu Chengxuan several times and had never noticed any particular scent about him. His Imperial Uncle was cold and arrogant, always looking down on others, yet he paid such close attention to this Yu Chengxuan. This Yu Chengxuan, how to put it, he was indeed the son with the most imperial aura among Yu Wenyi’s many sons, but Ji Hong still didn’t think that was enough to warrant such attention from his Imperial Uncle.
More than Yu Chengxuan, Ji Hong wanted to know what made him worthy of his Imperial Uncle’s attention.
“Imperial Uncle, is there anything special about him?”
Ji Hong asked.
Special?
Especially detestable!
Ji Jinmo still remembered this pretty boy’s attempt to abduct Ying’er.
He was shameless!
“Crack!”
Ji Hong heard a sound of something breaking.
Ji Jinmo released his grip on the back of the chair. Ji Hong saw that a piece had been torn off from where his elderly self had gripped it. As he opened his palm, wood chips rained down.
Not only had he broken off that piece of wood, but he had also crushed it.
What deep-seated hatred this was!
Ji Hong dared not ask anymore, fearing that if he continued asking, he would become the unlucky victim for venting his anger.
“Ahem…”
Ji Hong coughed technically, naturally diverting the topic: “Imperial Uncle, so, does that mean Yu Chengxuan was prepared long ago?”
The capture of Yu Chengxuan was spontaneous; it was impossible for it to have been leaked in advance. Therefore, that meant that from the moment Yu Wenyi ordered Yu Chengxuan to be an envoy to Linyuan, Yu Chengxuan had already prepared a double?
This fellow was quite cunning!
Ji Jinmo was not thinking about this.
When Xuan Yi and Thirteen arrived at the post station, the person resting on the bed was the fake Yu Chengxuan. So, when did the real Yu Chengxuan leave? Was it half an hour before, an hour? Or a day? Ten days?
Where did he go, and what did he do?
If he had only left for a few hours, could he have left the post station? If he had left for several days… somehow, Ji Jinmo suddenly remembered something mentioned in Ying’er’s letter – the massacre at the Liao Border market.
Ji Jinmo did not voice his suspicions, merely feeling that the direction of the interrogation could be shifted.
…
Wang Xun was missing, and Yu Dab was brutally killed by the populace. The highest-ranking official in the Wucheng yamen at this time was the Chief Clerk of Wucheng. After writing the memorial, he used the Langhuan Army’s urgent channel to send it to the capital.
As the swift horse galloped all the way towards the capital, a monk in tattered robes appeared outside the city gate of the capital. He took out the travel permit issued by Linlong Temple and entered the capital along with the flow of people.
“Dong~ Dong~ Dong~ Dong~”
The Jiming Drum, erected near the East Gate of Linyuan and personally built by the founding emperor, was struck. The deafening drumbeats reverberated through the capital, and hearing the drum sound, the common people stopped their actions and gazed in the direction of the drumbeats.
“That direction… is the Jiming Drum?”
The common people were astonished. After so many years, if someone hadn’t struck the drum again, they would have almost forgotten the “Drum of Grievance” that the founding emperor had established back then!
Who was it? Who was striking the drum?
The common people surged towards the Jiming Drum.
“It’s a monk!”
“How could it be a monk?”
“Look at his tattered clothes, has he encountered some immense injustice?”
The common people were utterly surprised to see that the person striking the Jiming Drum was a monk. The people of Linyuan’s impression of monks was still stuck with the “enlightened eminent monks” of Jian’an Temple, and they could not equate them with grievances. However, this monk striking the drum before them was too tattered. If it weren’t for his dazzling bald head, they would have thought he was a beggar from somewhere!
“Your Majesty, Your Majesty, someone has struck the Jiming Drum!”
The eunuch rushed all the way, his voice preceding him before he even entered the Imperial Study.
At this point, he could not afford to disregard the impropriety of appearing before the court. The founding emperor had established the Jiming Drum to allow the common people to seek redress, and when the drum sound was heard, the Emperor would personally adjudicate.
This drum sound represented justice and righteousness.
The Jiming Drum had not sounded for more than a decade, and now that it had, it was likely drawing the attention of all people and forces. The eunuch dared not hesitate or be negligent, for fear that reporting it late might lead to some unforeseen circumstances.
Ji Hong suddenly stood up, his expression slightly changed, and he asked urgently: “Who struck the drum?”
“Replying to Your Majesty, it is a monk!”
“A monk?”
“Yes, a monk!”
The eunuch was also extremely puzzled, why was it a monk?
At this moment, many speculations flashed through Ji Hong’s mind, but although the Jiming Drum had not been struck for many years, in the end, this was not a bad thing.
“Prepare the imperial carriage, to Fengxian Pavilion!”
“Yes!”
The drum sound was heard, and the Emperor would personally adjudicate.
The place of trial was within Fengxian Pavilion, next to the Jiming Drum.
The common people were allowed to observe the trial.
Officials rushed over upon hearing the news, and the monk stopped striking the drum, walking down from the high platform and standing outside Fengxian Pavilion.
Ignoring the scrutiny of the officials and the discussions of the common people, he closed his eyes and remained silent.
“Your Majesty has arrived!”
Just then, a sharp voice, accompanied by the sound of horse hooves, carriage wheels, and iron boots stepping on the ground, simultaneously echoed in everyone’s ears. The majestic imperial flag fluttered in the wind, and the first to appear before everyone’s eyes were the Imperial Guards clad in armor.