Deng Ying changed into a long shirt, left Xihua Palace and headed towards Dai Huan's residence.
The sound of temple bells inside and outside the city was incessant. Because the emperor had passed away, slaughtering was prohibited in the city. Without the pleasure of food, even the smell of cooking could not be smelled. Officials were posted at every government office in Beijing. The officials could not go home, so their families had to send their food and clothing to them. As a result, every government office was crowded with carriages and horses.
This year, the coal supply in the capital was seriously insufficient, and people often snatched coal on the streets.
The Wucheng Bingmasi was too lazy to ask about the details. They just beat up the people who were making trouble for charcoal. Some officials in the yamen couldn't bear to see this, but they couldn't even take the extra charcoal to help. They could only watch helplessly and at most give advice, "That's enough."
It is freezing cold under the emperor's feet.
There was a tarpaulin tent in front of the house, and the servants in the house were moving charcoal into the tent.
A steward in front of him said to Deng Ying, "This year, our master has dismissed most of the servants in the mansion. This charcoal is not needed. It is prepared to be donated to the government and distributed to the people."
Deng Ying followed a servant to the inner house. There was snow everywhere and no one had swept it. In many places, there was not even any trace of footsteps. The snow covered the ground so thick and tightly that there was no dent even when stepped on.
"Can you take care of all these people?"
The servant smiled and said, "Your Majesty has important matters to attend to. All the work is tight. It's just that there is more work to do. The rest is the same as before. This year is actually good. The wives have all returned to the south. Without the inner court affairs, the burden is half relieved. After all, the work ahead is easy to do. Now that the master is seriously ill, the masters in the government offices can't move around, so there is even less work to do."
He stopped outside of Huan's room and said, "Supervisor, please stand here for a moment and check if the master has woken up."
Soon, the servant lifted the cotton tent and ushered in, "The factory supervisor, please."
After Deng Ying bowed to express his thanks, he lifted his robe and walked into the room.
Dui Huan was not sitting on the sickbed. He was fully dressed, wearing a mourning robe, and sitting upright in an armchair.
“Here I come.”
"Yes, please accept the gift, teacher."
Huan smiled, said "OK", and stood up shakily by holding the back of the chair.
Deng Ying knelt down and bowed his head in greeting. When Huan waited for him to stand up, he also bowed his hands and bowed to him in greeting.
"Is the teacher going south?"
He said to Huan: "Get up."
Deng Ying stood up and helped Dui Huan to sit down. Dui Huan pointed to the chair opposite and motioned Deng Ying to sit down as well.
"Fu Ling, I have lived through two generations of emperors, and I am considered to be quite old. Although I have always wanted to die of old age, I have given up this obsession. Therefore, I will not go south. I just want to ask Yang Zixi, the cabinet, and the Ming Dynasty for help..."
After he finished speaking, he looked at Deng Ying and said, "These past few days, I have been thinking over and over again about what Zhang Zhanchun said to me in the prison of the Ministry of Justice. He said... you are his student, and with him around, no one can humiliate you. Sigh..."
He said with a smile and sighed, "Studying, being an official... they are incomparable, but as for 'Master', he is more than a thousand times better. Fu Ling, you and Yang Lun are both my students, but the teacher... did not protect you well."
Deng Ying shook his head and lowered his eyes, saying: "Since I became the magistrate, I have been taught by you, Mr. Zhang. I regard you as my father and my son as my brother. If I had not been castrated, I would also like to be a good student under the teacher's lap, enter the officialdom, and be protected by the teacher all the time. But now... I dare not."
He said the word "dare not", which made Fan Huan's eyes warm.
"Talisman Spirit..."
"teacher."
Deng Ying interrupted Huan's voice, "Fu Ling is going to plead guilty to forging the will."
Huan's hands were shaking. "Who told you to take this step? Huh?"
"It's me."
Deng Ying raised her head. "I know you want to protect Zixi. You want to take the lead in refuting the will and fight against the queen, but this is not the best way for the cabinet or the eldest prince. Refuting the will without reason is a serious crime. You may be able to protect Zixi's life, but his political career will also end with you. Teacher, I don't agree with you doing this."
"Should I agree with you to do this?"
"If you don't agree, I will disobey you."
"Talisman Spirit!"
Da Huan raised his voice, stood up from his chair, and his whole body was shaking. "What's the difference between this and forcing students to death...?"
Deng Ying stood up, knelt in front of Dai Huan, and said, "Teacher, I really don't want to humiliate your best student."
These words brought Er's memories back to the twelfth year of Zhenning.
After the execution, the teacher and student met for the first time in front of the Imperial Palace. They didn't say much to each other. He tried to call Huan "teacher", but Huan scolded him, "You are so insolent." When they parted, he only said, "I won't let you humiliate my best student." It was a rebuke, but it also contained an inexplicable pain. I didn't expect him to mention this sentence again today. Although his voice was not loud, it was enough to make Huan, an old man, heartbroken.
"Teacher, I know that I am living in disgrace in this world, which is beneath your dignity, but I have really tried my best. I have come this far and worn this skin until now. I believe that I have not disgraced Deng Fuling of the past. I have only one last journey left, and I want to continue."
Huan looked down at Deng Ying, who was lying on the ground, and was speechless.
Deng Ying raised his head, his hands still on the ground. He tilted his head and coughed a few times before looking at Huan and speaking in a calm voice:
"Teacher, after the emperor confessed his guilt, the imperial edict will no longer have any effect, and the cabinet can legitimately draft the imperial edict on behalf of the emperor. The eunuchs and the eunuch party are guilty of the same crime, and the eunuchs can be hanged in one fell swoop, and the eunuch disaster can be eliminated. I hope that you, Zixi, can respect the iron law of the emperor, use severe punishments to discipline the servants in the inner court, and not repeat the mistakes of our dynasty."
Huan slowly sat down, holding onto the back of the chair, and shook his head with tears in his eyes.
The young man in front of me has not changed in appearance or character in more than ten years.
"How long have you been thinking about this?"
"One day."
Da Huan sighed, "Do you really not want to live anymore?"
"no."
Deng Ying shook her head. "I want to live, but teacher, I don't deserve a good end. I should have been executed along with my father. These three years of life are a gift from the king, given by heaven. I can no longer be greedy."
"good… "
Huan turned his head away, avoiding Deng Ying's gaze, and wiped the corners of his eyes.
This was a student taught by Zhang Zhanchun, and also a criminal abandoned outside. After the Tongjia Massacre, Deng Ying stepped on the bones of more than 80 people and took the position of the East Factory. Like the others, Du Huan also doubted his nature. However, when he dug out his nature from his flesh and blood and put it in front of the world's scholars, no one was willing to look at it.
In other words, it’s not that they are unwilling to watch, but that they avoid it instinctively.
His "evil" will be hung on the city wall, while his "good" will be forever lost in the open.
Duihuan's hands were tightly clasped on the back of the chair. Although it was winter, the fabric of his clothes was gradually getting wet with sweat.
"Get up, don't kneel anymore."
Deng Ying stood up and said, "I'm sorry, teacher. I was too rude to you."
"fine."
Huan loosened one hand, waved it at him, and said softly, "Have you prepared a coffin for yourself?"
Deng Ying shook her head silently.
"I've been a factory official for several years, and I haven't even saved this much?"
"I only have one outbuilding, it's in a good location, maybe I can sell it for some money, but... it's the only thing I can keep, I don't want to sell it."
He smiled and said, "It's good to have clothes to wrap yourself in."
"Talisman spirit."
Dahuan called Deng Ying. "
"exist."
"The teacher gave it to you."
**
This is the "Presenting a coffin to Huan" in history. Although this has been described in many private books and unofficial histories, there is no such passage in the "History of Ming Dynasty" written in the Qing Dynasty.
This, like the two words "zhi jie" written by Yang Lun, was once a breakthrough in Yang Wan's research. However, she was just trying to explore the possibility of research topics from the abnormal attitudes of these two generations of assistant ministers. She didn't know at the time that the gift of a coffin to Huan when he was sick implied the "identity tolerance" of that era.
As part of the "literature", this kind of identity tolerance cannot be regarded as the budding of an idea, but only exists in the friendship between the two generations of teachers and students.
But for Deng Ying, it is the confirmation of her "literary mind".
Just like the blue sky on November 15th in the fourteenth year of Zhenning, the snow and wind swept the dust and dead leaves into the blue sky, and the sun happened to be hanging in the sky. Under the sunlight, all things were as white as dust.
Yang Lun was sitting at a noodle stall in front of Guangji Temple eating noodles. A gust of wind blew a few dead leaves into his bowl. The waiter at the noodle stall saw it, hurriedly came over, wiping his hands and saying, "Hey, cook another bowl for you."
Yang Lun said nothing. He rolled up his sleeves to pick up the broken leaves on the bottom of the bowl, then picked up the bowl and took two big bites.
"My dear... you don't look very happy today."
Yang Lun said nothing, but he refused to put the bowl down.
The old lady saw that his hand holding the bowl was shaking slightly, but she could not have imagined that after he finished the bowl, he had to use almost all his strength to hold back the tears that were inexplicably rolling in his eyes.
"What a lot of money."
He put down the bowl, stood up, and reached out to take out the money.
The old man with a paralyzed face covered the pot lid, exhaled hot air and waved his hand at him, saying, "I won't charge you any more money. The wind is strong here, so you are covered in dust and cold. This place is bad, so you are not allowed to set up stalls tomorrow. Once the Five Cities Army arrives, you will be in trouble. I will leave after guarding for a while. Please go to the palace quickly."
Yang Lun glanced in the direction of the Bell and Drum Tower.
Today, the Imperial Court will discuss the Emperor's funeral ceremony. The Imperial throne will be occupied, and the Imperial Household Department and the Cabinet will stand on either side of the throne.
And only one will be established in the room.
Yang Lun closed his eyes. He could no longer do anything about it, and he couldn't even maintain his decent appearance. He recalled the conversation between Deng Ying and him when he met him in the Ministry of Justice yesterday.
He asked Deng Ying if she needed anything and asked her to go buy it.
Deng Ying smiled and said that he needed paper and pen to write his confession, but the prison already had them, so there was no need to buy them specifically.