“The mystic turtle of Luo River first presents auspicious signs, yin number nine, yang number nine, nine times nine equals eighty-one numbers, numbers connecting to the Way, the Way harmonizing with Primordial Heavenly Honored One, one sincere heart has response…” The brighter Emperor Mingkang’s eyes grew as he read, he couldn’t help but slap the table, “Excellent words! Wei Wuxie, come, appreciate this together with me.”
Emperor Mingkang called Wei Wuxie over to share his joyful mood, then continued reading: “Phoenix pairs from Mount Qi bring double fortune, male cries six, female cries six, six times six equals thirty-six calls, calls heard by heaven, heaven births Emperor Mingkang, long life without end—”
Reading to this point, Emperor Mingkang’s voice paused, feeling something was amiss.
He went back to reread: “Phoenix pairs from Mount Qi bring double fortune, male cries six, female cries six, six times six equals thirty-six calls, calls heard by heaven, dogs birth Emperor Mingkang—”
Emperor Mingkang stared at that character “dog,” his face darkening enough to drip water.
So that’s what felt wrong—earlier he had read that character as “heaven” and continued smoothly.
“Dogs birth Emperor Mingkang—”
On the blue vine paper, the character “dog” written in vermilion brush seemed like a vicious dog crouching before him, sticking out its tongue in mockery as it gazed at Emperor Mingkang.
Emperor Mingkang flew into a rage, so angry his voice changed pitch: “Wei Wuxie, tell the Lan father and son to get over here immediately!”
“Yes.” Wei Wuxie almost fled from the imperial study, standing outside the snow-covered hall and quietly exhaling.
It seemed the Lan father and son were about to meet great misfortune.
At the Lan residence, receiving the verbal decree from Wei Wuxie, Lan Shan cautiously asked: “Director, His Majesty is summoning our father and son to the palace at this time—might we know what for?”
“Chief Minister Lan asks this, but this servant dare not rashly speculate on imperial intentions.” Wei Wuxie deflected, thinking that if Lan Shan offered silver notes, he might reveal something.
Lan Songtuan laughed: “Father, do you need to ask? It must be that His Majesty saw my outstanding memorial and called us over.”
“Director, is it truly related to my son’s memorial?” Lan Shan was much more composed than his hot-tempered son, uneasily pressing the matter.
Wei Wuxie smiled inscrutably: “Chief Minister Lan, this servant truly doesn’t know. Please don’t make things difficult for this servant. However, His Majesty was indeed reading memorials in his study before summoning you two.”
Lan Songtuan chuckled gleefully: “Father, just as I said—it can’t be anything else.”
Only then did Lan Shan relax his sparse white eyebrows, trembling as he said: “Then let’s go. We cannot keep His Majesty waiting.”
Wei Wuxie led the way, his peripheral vision sweeping over Lan Songtuan with inner cold laughter.
Blocking someone’s financial path was like killing their parents. Since Lan Songtuan had cost him a bag of silver, he would sit and wait for his downfall.
The Lan father and son entered the imperial study with practiced ease. Upon stepping through the doorway, Lan Shan inexplicably felt his scalp tingle and immediately paused.
Based on his years of understanding the emperor, the atmosphere indicated His Majesty was currently very displeased.
Lan Songtuan, however, was completely oblivious, greeting with full vigor: “Your subject pays respects to Your Majesty.”
“Did you write this?” Emperor Mingkang waved the memorial in his hand before Lan Songtuan’s eyes.
Seeing familiar handwriting, Lan Songtuan quickly nodded: “Indeed, it was written by your humble subject.”
This memorial was among the most satisfying of all the congratulatory writings he had composed over the years. He wondered how His Majesty would reward him.
“Scoundrel!” Emperor Mingkang directly hurled the memorial at Lan Songtuan’s face.
Lan Songtuan was still waiting to hear praise and was completely unprepared. The memorial struck his nose bridge squarely, immediately causing blood to gush forth.
Seeing the blood drop onto the golden bricks, Emperor Mingkang became even more furious, shouting: “Guards! Drag this scoundrel Lan Songtuan, who has offended the imperial countenance, out and behead him!”
Lan Songtuan, face covered in blood, was stunned: “Your Majesty, why? What wrong has your subject committed?”
Lan Shan kicked Lan Songtuan, sending him staggering and falling before Emperor Mingkang. With tears and mucus flowing, he pleaded: “Your Majesty, spare his life! Spare his life! Please tell this old subject what wrong this little beast has committed!”
“See for yourself!” Though Emperor Mingkang was furious, deep in his heart, he hadn’t intended to take Lan Songtuan’s life.
Lan Shan tremblingly picked up the memorial that had fallen to the ground, slowly unfolding it. After reading the contents, his face suddenly changed, and he collapsed to the ground, crying out in shock: “This, this is impossible! How could the little beast write such a thing?”
Lan Songtuan was completely confused and rushed over: “Let me see!”
At this point, Lan Shan couldn’t be bothered to scold him for improper behavior before the emperor, demanding harshly: “Were you out of your mind when writing this memorial?”
Lan Songtuan quickly finished reading, his gaze falling like nails on that character “dog,” his expression becoming bewildered: “This is impossible, this is impossible!”
Emperor Mingkang sneered: “What, are you going to tell me this wasn’t written by you?”
“Your Majesty, this was not written by your subject!” Lan Songtuan declared loudly.
Emperor Mingkang lifted his eyelids: “Even if I couldn’t recognize your handwriting, could your father not recognize it? Chief Minister Lan, you tell me—is this handwriting your son’s or not?”
Lan Shan was rendered speechless by the question.
Lan Songtuan grew anxious: “Father, this truly wasn’t written by me. How could I make such an error?”
Emperor Mingkang snorted lightly: “Elder Lan, just tell me—is this your son’s handwriting or not?”
Lan Shan stared intently at the vermilion characters on the blue vine paper, desperately wanting to find some difference, but finally could only despair, saying with difficulty: “It is his handwriting…”
“Father!” Lan Songtuan cried out in alarm, then turned to bow to Emperor Mingkang: “Your Majesty, your subject hasn’t lost his mind—how could I write such a memorial!”
“Heh heh, they say what you think by day, you dream by night. Perhaps you’ve been cursing me in your heart for so long that you accidentally wrote your true thoughts.”
Argue with me? I never listen!
The one who understood Emperor Mingkang’s mind best was still Lan Shan. Seeing Lan Songtuan about to speak again, he quickly tugged him hard and prostrated with both hands, begging forgiveness: “Your Majesty, the little beast dares not harbor such thoughts. Please, considering this old subject has only this one son, spare his worthless life…”
Emperor Mingkang coldly watched as Lan Shan kowtowed several times with loud thuds, his sparse white hair immediately becoming disheveled, finally speaking: “Since Minister Lan pleads for your son, death may be avoided, but punishment cannot be escaped. Let him receive one hundred heavy strokes.”
Hearing this, Lan Shan immediately broke into a cold sweat.
If one hundred strokes were truly administered, even if his son didn’t die, he would be crippled. This absolutely could not happen!
“Your Majesty, the little beast has thick skin and coarse flesh. What if he damages Your Majesty’s imperial rods…”
Lan Shan pitifully pleaded for a while. Emperor Mingkang listened with narrowed eyes, finally slowly opening them: “Minister Lan has served diligently for many years, and I am not heartless. However, how can imperial words be casually changed? Thus, the reward of rod punishment remains unchanged, but Minister Lan may substitute silver for it.”
“Substitute with silver?” Lan Shan asked blankly.
He was getting old—who could tell him what His Majesty meant by this?
“Correct, substitute with silver—one thousand taels of silver for one stroke.” Emperor Mingkang said expressionlessly.
One thousand taels of silver per stroke, one hundred strokes would be one hundred thousand snowflake silver. Well, at least this year’s winter bonuses could finally be distributed.