Zhao Zhongyu lived very close to Emperor Jin, so when the poisoned wine was delivered, he happened to be in Emperor Jin’s room, currently teaching him a lesson.
A general led a squad of soldiers. The soldiers held a tray in their hands, on which sat only a cup and a wine pot.
Hearing footsteps, both Zhao Zhongyu and Emperor Jin’s hearts tightened simultaneously. Liu Cong had just killed Liu He and was at the height of his smugness—surely he wouldn’t want another grand banquet to torment Emperor Jin at the feast?
Zhao Zhongyu’s expression darkened slightly as he stood up and positioned himself in front of Emperor Jin. Emperor Jin felt ashamed, his body trembling slightly.
As the footsteps drew nearer and the general led his men around the corridor toward them, Zhao Zhongyu immediately spotted the tray they were carrying.
Zhao Zhongyu froze, his heart sinking continuously.
He stepped aside to look at Emperor Jin.
Only now did Emperor Jin see the tray carried behind the general. His face changed color, instantly turning deathly pale. He looked helplessly at Zhao Zhongyu.
Zhao Zhongyu lowered his eyes without speaking.
He had always protected Emperor Jin to prevent him from being humiliated by the Xiongnu people. He was their emperor. Having him serve wine and tea to the Xiongnu, sweep floors and wipe tables, dressed as a servant and subjected to insults—this humiliated not only Emperor Jin but also them, these Jin ministers, and the entire Jin state.
If Emperor Jin was a slave to the Xiongnu, then what was the Jin state? What were they, these Jin ministers?
At this moment, it seemed all suffering could end, though in the form he was most unwilling to accept.
Zhao Zhongyu waited for them to approach.
The general hadn’t expected Zhao Zhongyu to also be here, and couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t expect Minister Zhao to be here as well. This saves me an extra trip.”
He looked left and right, then very decisively picked up a large tea bowl from the low table in front of them and placed it on the tray beside the small wine cup, then looked at Zhao Zhongyu with a half-smile.
He had long been displeased with this old man.
Every time he came to summon Emperor Jin, this man always obstructed him in every way, always leading that group of Jin ministers in wailing and crying, even colluding with the Han ministers on their side to point at their noses and curse.
Hmph, if it weren’t for the fact that some among them truly had talent, just based on being born Han, they all should have been beheaded.
The Han people have a saying: those not of our kind will surely have different hearts. The hearts of the Han people were not with them.
The general lifted the wine pot and poured a little wine into the cup, just barely reaching the rim, then poured the tea bowl more than half full. If the poisoned wine weren’t limited and the brew not abundant, he really would have wanted to pour him a full bowl.
The general casually set down the wine pot, raised his chin at the two men and said, “Emperor Jin, Minister Zhao, this is wine our Great General has bestowed upon you. Please drink it.”
Seeing that even Zhao Zhongyu had been given poisoned wine, Emperor Jin’s knees went weak for a moment, and he collapsed onto the mat.
The general cast him a contemptuous and disdainful glance, waved his hand, and was about to have soldiers force-feed him.
Zhao Zhongyu stepped forward to block them, shouting sternly, “The dignity of the Son of Heaven—how dare the likes of you offend it?”
The soldiers, halted by his shout, turned to look at the general.
The general flew into a rage, stepping forward and saying, “Zhao Zhongyu, you can barely protect yourself, yet you still have the leisure to manage others’ lives and deaths?”
Zhao Zhongyu only glanced at him without engaging in conversation. He stepped forward, picked up the wine cup, and walked toward the emperor.
The emperor sat collapsed on the mat, staring up at him blankly.
Zhao Zhongyu knelt before him, holding up the wine cup. “Your Majesty, things have come to this. Allow this minister to escort you one final journey.”
Hearing these words, tears immediately streamed down the emperor’s face. He grasped the hands holding the wine cup tightly, his voice full of pain and regret. “I regret not listening to the Minister’s words earlier. If I had died sooner, I wouldn’t have endured so much humiliation in vain.”
Zhao Zhongyu moved forward on his knees two steps, one hand firmly supporting his arm. “Even now is not too late.”
The emperor barely held back his tears, looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “Is it truly not too late?”
Zhao Zhongyu nodded forcefully.
The emperor looked at the poisoned wine in his hands and swallowed, then reached out with trembling hands to take the wine.
The wine cup trembled in his hands, and behind them, the general and soldiers all let out contemptuous laughter.
Zhao Zhongyu did not release his grip. He steadily held the wine cup and brought it to the emperor’s lips. The emperor, with shaking hands, tilted the wine cup and raised his head to take it in…
He looked at Zhao Zhongyu through his tears and swallowed with a gulp.
Seeing him drink, Zhao Zhongyu smashed the wine cup, then immediately rose and picked up the tea bowl from the tray, drinking it all in one go before everyone’s eyes.
He smashed the bowl and burst into hearty laughter, saying with satisfaction, “From today forward, our Great Jin warriors no longer have any weakness and can act without hindrance!”
He had drunk more poisoned wine, so it took effect faster. As soon as he finished speaking, large mouthfuls of black blood poured from his mouth, and he collapsed with a thud before the emperor.
Emperor Jin, with trembling hands, held him in his arms. Thinking of these years when they, sovereign and minister, had depended on each other, sorrow surged from within, and tears flowed uncontrollably.
He felt a twisting pain in his abdomen, and in that moment, grief transformed into resentment. He raised his head to look at the general. “Just you wait, Zhao Hanzhang will not let you go, she absolutely will not let you go!”
The general, looking at Zhao Zhongyu vomiting blood endlessly, also felt somewhat frightened, but still spoke viciously, “Before she comes, you’ll be the ones to die first!”
“This is Xiongnu territory, our Great General is brilliant and mighty. Even if it’s Zhao Hanzhang, upon seeing our general she’d have to walk backward!”
The emperor’s chest filled with indignation. He felt pain throughout his entire body. He coughed up blood with a “wah.”
Zhao Zhongyu could no longer speak. He pressed down on the emperor’s hand. “Your Majesty need not argue with them. The Jin state has already established a new crown prince. With Hanzhang present, Jin will not perish, and they Xiongnu will forever be treacherous rebels.”
Thinking about it, the emperor realized this was true. Moreover, death did not seem as terrifying as he had imagined. In just these few words’ time, the emperor suddenly adapted to this pain and accepted his own death.
So be it, death then. He was not a ruler who lost his state.
The emperor, holding Zhao Zhongyu, slowly closed his eyes. And the instant his hand fell limp, Zhao Zhongyu’s lips curved slightly upward, and he too closed his eyes.
The Jin ministers who had rushed over upon hearing the commotion saw that both men had expired and immediately burst into loud weeping. “Your Majesty—”
An Yuan was instantly filled with the sound of crying.
The general had tolerated them for a long time. Provoked by this crying, he could bear it no longer and directly drew his sword, killing those who wailed incessantly.
By the time Liu Cong learned of this, most of the Jin ministers in An Yuan had been massacred. He had someone stop the general, but didn’t punish him severely—merely ordering him to confine himself to his quarters and reflect.
These ministers who cried so bitterly clearly longed for the Jin state. Even if they surrendered to the Xiongnu, their hearts wouldn’t truly be in it. Killing them was fine.
Liu Cong didn’t take this matter too seriously to heart, but didn’t know that this incident was recorded by the surviving Jin ministers, who sent the information back to the Central Plains on small slips of paper.
The Central Plains aristocratic families, receiving this information, felt great sorrow in their hearts. In grief and indignation, they joined Zhao Family’s army one after another. At this time, all concerns about aristocratic dignity were cast aside.
“Without skin, where can the hair attach?” When even survival cannot be guaranteed, what heart do they have to concern themselves with aristocratic self-respect when dealing with Zhao Hanzhang?
So if she reduced preferential treatment toward the aristocratic families, so be it. At this time, expelling the foreign enemies was the priority.
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