As the ruler of a nation, the Emperor was burdened with countless affairs and could not linger in this remote corner of the palace for long. It was unclear what trouble had arisen in which part of the country, but the head eunuch of the Hall of Supreme Harmony, with a pleading old face, ventured to the building at great risk. He announced his presence repeatedly from below, finally succeeding in coaxing the Emperor downstairs.

Watching Fan Tisi standing behind the Emperor, the head eunuch cursed inwardly. No wonder the Emperor was nowhere to be found in the palace; it turned out... the two father and son were staging a tearful reunion scene. He had intruded uninvited, displeasing the Son of Heaven, and he wondered how many strokes of the rod he would receive.

The Emperor's expression was indeed unpleasant. Among all his sons, Fan Xian was the one he admired the most. Since entering Kyoto, Fan Xian had brought too much glory to him and the entire Qing Yu Nian Kingdom. Moreover, he was knowledgeable, sensible, and truly useful.

Most importantly, just looking at the two incidents – saving Lao San at the Suspended Temple and now stubbornly refusing to acknowledge their relationship – one could see that beneath this child's casual appearance lay a loyal heart, and within his seemingly ruthless methods resided a sense of balance and harmony.

In the heart of this middle-aged Emperor, there was a time when he couldn't help but feel a touch of unreasonable jealousy towards Fan Jian – the Emperor, after all, was just a mortal. Now, finally able to acknowledge Fan Xian, even though Fan Xian hadn't spoken a word, the atmosphere was enough to please the Emperor. But at this moment, someone came to disturb him, and his mood was naturally not good.

With so many people inside and outside the building, the Emperor couldn't say much. He turned around, the frost on his face gradually softening, and looked at Fan Xian's clear and beautiful face with a hint of familiarity, saying softly, "You've seen it, and I've said it before, as the ruler of a nation, there are always too many things one can't help. Think about it yourself and don't harbor too much resentment."

For an Emperor to lower himself to speak like this, even to his own son, was unprecedented. This sentence, while not expressing an apology, conveyed enough meaning. Fan Xian dared not pretend any longer, bowed deeply, and seemed moved.

The Emperor suddenly frowned, remembering his sister far away in Xinyang, and couldn't help but feel another headache. He sighed and said, "Recently, Kyoto has been too restless, and there are too many things that can't be said openly. Chen Pingping is worried that you'll be in an awkward position in the court, and suggests letting you go to Jiangnan ahead of schedule. What do you think?"

Fan Xian dared not have any objections, only letting a hint of sadness flash across his eyes at just the right moment, and said quietly, "I obey the decree." He suddenly smiled gently and said, "But I've never been to Jiangnan before. Please advise your Majesty, what should I pay attention to?"

The Emperor shook his head: "What I need is just a clean and honest Internal Treasury that can earn silver for the court every year. As for how to do it, you should be clear. I appreciate what you've done in the past two months."

This was naturally referring to the Supervisory Council's investigation of the Cui family and crackdown on Internal Treasury smuggling.

The Emperor continued, "But... because of this, Anzhi, you've made quite a few enemies in the court. There are some things I can't... um, you've done well." In the Emperor's eyes, Fan Xian's relentless crackdown on Xinyang and the Second Prince was naturally because of that memorial, and he was doing things for the court, handling things that he himself was inconvenient to handle.

After a moment of silence, Fan Xian said, "From now on, I am still willing to be his Majesty's lone minister."

The Emperor was very satisfied with Fan Xian's statement. Fan Xian seized this opportunity and asked, "But Jiangnan is far away. Although I am in charge of the Supervisory Council, I am not familiar with commerce after all. If all matters are led by the Council alone, I'm afraid I won't be able to investigate clearly... Your Majesty, I..."

He gritted his teeth in front of the Emperor and said, "I want to borrow Qing Yu Tang."

The Emperor was stunned, and after a moment of silence, he asked, "The stewards of Qing Yu Tang are naturally familiar with the affairs of the Internal Treasury, but according to the court's rules, they cannot leave Kyoto..." He suddenly felt that it was a bit unkind to say this in front of Fan Xian, coughed twice and said, "Anzhi, you are asking me for people in person. Are you not afraid that I will suspect you?"

Fan Xian said directly, "All land under heaven belongs to the Emperor. Since I have brought it up in person, I naturally believe that your Majesty deeply believes in my loyalty."

The Emperor stared at him, but in his heart, he was quickly calculating. The Ye family in those years was deeply rooted and powerful, almost shaking the foundation of the country. As the ruler of a nation, he was somewhat apprehensive about a recurrence of what had happened in those years. Fan Xian in front of him was, after all, her own son, and he was afraid that he would inevitably feel some resentment at the loss of the Ye family.

But then he thought, since Fan Xian dared to say these taboo words, it could be considered honesty, and he said lightly, "Now that you stand high enough, you naturally know that so-called gold and silver are not of much use. As for the Internal Treasury, six years ago I decided to let you take charge after you grew up, just to keep... that thought in mind. This is what I wanted, so why would I suspect you?"

Fan Xian looked moved, but the Emperor waved his hand and mocked, "But you must not deceive me. Even if the affairs of the Internal Treasury are complicated, why would you need those old partners of Qing Yu Tang? I think you are trying to get them out of Kyoto."

Fan Xian did not defend himself, and sighed sadly, "I dare not deceive your Majesty, I do have this intention. From the first day I knew my origins, I had this thought. Last year, I even went to Qing Yu Tang to see them. Those stewards are confined to Kyoto all year round and are really a bit awkward. These people are only in their fifties. If they are released from Kyoto, they can still serve the court."

He had visited Qing Yu Tang once last year, knowing that this matter would one day be seized by someone with ulterior motives, so today he simply said it in front of the Emperor first.

The Emperor seemed somewhat surprised by his frankness, and after a long silence, he finally nodded. Fan Xian was overjoyed, and the Emperor smiled, "You can't take them all away. All the princes' mansions are managed by Qing Yu Tang. If you take them all away, I'm afraid Prince Jing would be the first to not spare you."

Fan Xian smiled slyly, and the Emperor said with a smile, "...Among the princes, only Prince He dares to speak straight to me, but his temperament is steady and fierce, not as good as you..." He stopped speaking and said, "There is a painting in the side room upstairs... you can go take a look at it later."

Although he knew that the portrait was in the palace, Fan Xian still showed a slight hesitation and asked, "What painting?"

The Emperor said, "The only painting your mother left in this world..." Thinking of Xiao Yezi, his eyes softened, and he said softly, "You haven't seen her, take a good look at it later... Speaking of which, you and your mother really don't look alike."

Fan Xian was slightly stunned, and then he heard the Emperor sigh, "Although she was generally beautiful and unparalleled, her temperament was very different. She was like a man, not letting men be superior, otherwise she wouldn't have such a name. In those days, she hated so-called poetry and songs and only liked practical matters."

Thinking that the son in front of him was the most famous poet in the world, the Emperor suddenly found the matter interesting, laughed loudly, pointed at Fan Xian and said, "Although the poems she wrote also had the power to swallow clouds and rain, it only matched her temperament, and the difference between you is too great... too great."

Hong Zhu looked at the anxious urging in the eyes of the eunuch outside the building, and listening to the Emperor and Lord Fan talking happily, he dared not step forward to disturb them.

Fan Xian laughed and asked curiously, "Mother...has your Majesty ever heard the poems she wrote?"

"Only one." The Emperor leisurely recalled the past and recited in a clear voice, "The scenery of the North Country, thousands of miles of ice, ten thousand miles of snow. Looking inside and outside the palace city, only a vast expanse remains; above and below the great river, the滔滔 disappears. The mountains dance like silver snakes, and the plains gallop like wax elephants, trying to compete with the heavens. On sunny days, look at the red makeup wrapped in white, exceptionally enchanting. The country is so beautiful, attracting countless heroes to bow. Pity Wei Huang Han Wu, slightly inferior in literary talent;

Tang Zong Song Zu, slightly inferior in style. A generation of Genghis Khan, only knows how to bend his bow and shoot eagles. All have passed, let us count the men of the hour, still look to the present."

Wei Huang Han Wu? Tang Zong Song Zu? Fan Xian's expression was very wonderful, wonderful to the point of cramping.

The Emperor looked at him disapprovingly and scolded, "Don't you think this poem is good?"

Fan Xian said with a bitter face, "...Naturally, it is full of momentum, but I don't know where these Han Wu, Tang Zong, and Song Zu are from." He thought to himself, Mom, you should change it completely, what Genghis Khan... I really lose to you.

The Emperor explained, "According to legend, they were three great heroes from ancient times."

Fan Xian was speechless, thinking that his mother's procrastination skills were very similar to his own. Just like the conversation with Zhuang Mohan in the capital of Northern Qi that night, all unexplained things were pushed to ancient times. I occasionally saw it in historical records. Where are the historical records? Sorry, I tore it up and used it in the toilet.

The eunuch pleaded again and again, and the Emperor finally left the small building. When he left, his somewhat thin figure revealed a trace of sadness.

……

……

Only Hong Zhu and Fan Xian were left in the small building. Watching the Emperor's figure disappear behind the layers of frost-covered branches, Fan Xian finally couldn't help but burst out laughing, holding his stomach and laughing loudly, hahaha, the sound resounded throughout the small building, unspeakable joy.

Hong Zhu was dumbfounded, thinking that Fan Tisi must have been greatly stimulated by today's events. Should he ask the imperial physician to come and take a look?

After a long time, Fan Xian finally stopped the absurd laughter brought about by that "Qin Yuan Chun", his stomach aching a little from laughing. He said to Hong Zhu, panting, "It's okay, I'll go up by myself. You wait for me downstairs."

While walking upstairs, Fan Xian still couldn't stop laughing. That woman named Ye Qingmei was really a wonderful person. She didn't copy thousands of good poems, but she insisted on copying this one. He guessed that she was also forced by Fan Jian's group back then... However, perhaps Lao Mao's song is exactly in line with that woman's state of mind?

When he reached the top of the building, Fan Xian's smile had completely disappeared, and he had returned to his usual calmness. In a feudal dynasty, the poem his mother copied was really a rebellious poem. The Emperor could say it, but she couldn't say it. No wonder she had such a serious conflict with this palace in the end.

He sneered in his heart, throwing all the Emperor's previous sincerity behind him and no longer recalling it.

……

……

Arriving outside the side room, he picked up the cup of cold tea on the table, and Fan Xian pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold without hesitation or trembling. He stood calmly in front of the portrait.

The painting depicts a woman in a yellow shirt, with the mighty river as the background. The woman stood on a blue stone by the river, her skirt swaying gently in the river breeze. She faced the direction of the river, where the muddy waves emptied and turned into silt and sand. On the opposite bank, in the distance, ant-sized civilians were vaguely visible, carrying stones or something. Perhaps those people were building river embankments.

The painting skills of this painting are extremely exquisite, the brushstrokes are delicate, and the style is magnificent. The delicate and the grand are combined to describe the heavy scene on the opposite bank and the green and yellow mountain stones in the near distance very well. Especially the river bound between the yellow mountains on both sides is even more turbulent, with white waves, and the momentum is compelling. Looking at this painting, it seems that one can feel a biting river wind, seeping out from the painting and blowing on the viewer's face. Standing a little closer, one can seem to hear the exciting sound of the river beating against the two banks...

But all of this is not the focus of this painting. Anyone who is lucky enough to see this painting will be attracted by the woman in the yellow shirt standing on this shore at the first time, and will no longer have the extra thoughts to look at the scenery and figures elsewhere in the painting.

The woman in the yellow shirt only showed a profile. A few strands of green silk were gently floating beside her crystal-clear jade-like earlobe. Her lips were slightly pursed, wondering what she was thinking. The most attractive thing was her eyebrows. Her eyebrows were as clear and beautiful as swords, unlike a weak woman, but they did not add much masculine heroism. They were just clear and bright, making people like them unspeakably.

……

……

But at this time, Fan Xian's gaze was only fixed on the inch-sized eyes that could be seen in the woman's profile in the painting. The expression in those eyes seemed calm, but it always seemed to contain more emotions.

In just an instant, he remembered the mother that Xiao En had described to him in the mountain cave on the cliff of West Mountain outside Shangjing City in Northern Qi. Yes, it was this kind of eyes! – Softness, sadness, full of love and attachment to life, longing for beautiful things, sympathy for suffering, and confidence in changing all of this.

Fan Xian sighed, slowly sat down, looked at the painting on the wall, and did not look away for a long time, as if he wanted to engrave the woman's appearance in the painting firmly in his heart.

With cold tea in hand and an old painting in front of him, he sat silently in the side room, not knowing how long he had been sitting, and did not notice the shifting sunlight and the slow movement of the wind and clouds outside the small building.

……

……

The cold tea in his hand was still untouched. Fan Xian sat there for half a day, and his lips were a little dry. He suddenly tilted his head and looked at the woman in the yellow shirt in the painting and said softly, "You did a good job, but... you didn't take good care of yourself."

He paused, seeming a little nervous, wanting to organize more appropriate words to say to the woman in the painting.

"Of course, I'm not as good as you, but please rest assured, I will definitely take good care of myself." He stood up, looked quietly at the painting, and said softly, "I will leave you here temporarily. I guess he won't let me take it away. In a few days, I will come to see you often." I don't know how long a few days will be.

Fan Xian approached the painting, suddenly smiled brightly, and said with great energy, "All have passed... All have passed. Let me take care of the men of the hour."

After saying this, he got up and left the side room.

The room was silent.

……

……

The door suddenly creaked and was pushed open in a hurry. Fan Xian returned and stood in the compartment again, looking straight at the woman in the painting, and suddenly asked:

"Science?"

"Female doctor?"

The girl in the painting naturally could not answer the questions raised by her son many years later, so she was silent. Fan Xian's heart suddenly felt sour, and he immediately chuckled to cover up the wetness in his eyes, and bowed sincerely and said:

"Thank you."

Then he really left. The woman in the yellow shirt in the painting did not turn around, but looked at the scenes on the opposite bank, silently, with her back to the door behind her, which she did not know when it would be opened again.

……

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(I originally wrote hundreds more words, but this chapter can only end here. Only in this way can I express my sincerity to Ye Qingmei and myself. Today, I am thirty years old. In life, people always think east and west, so today, I am also inexplicably sad and crying bitterly. I really don't want to be forty... Fortunately, *Zhuque Ji* is finished, and I am satisfied, so I have an explanation for life, and I will slowly explain it later. This kind of life is still relatively happy, because I really like to write and make up stories. The day of establishment happens to be written in this chapter, which is also a kind of happiness.

Finally, recommend a book, *Shenzhen Ji*, not a friend's recommendation. I saw a friend recommending it before I went to read it. I don't understand Chinese medicine, I just watch the excitement, but some details can show yy's sincerity, I like it. ps: I will definitely drink today, so tomorrow may be updated later and less.)