Zhang Zhanchun's coffin was placed in the Duobao Hall of Guangji Temple.
On this day, the rain had not stopped until noon. The ancient trees in the temple were washed by the rain, and against the white background of the temple, they looked even more luxuriant and green.
The officials who came to pay their respects all held white umbrellas. Although there were many of them, their faces were solemn and no voices were heard.
Yang Lun stood under the pine trees in front of the hall and talked quietly with Qi Huaiyang.
Qi Huaiyang folded his arms and looked at the lonely ants in the rain mud. "When it rains heavily, these things look very pitiful."
Yang Lun asked, "Why did you come to see me?"
Qi Huaiyang looked at him.
"I heard that His Majesty rejected the joint memorial of the six departments."
"yes."
"How many rounds have you refuted?"
"Four wheels."
Qi Huaiyang asked: "What do you think?"
Yang Lun laughed and stroked the rough branches of the cloud pine tree with his hand. "You are a person who doesn't ask about anything, so why are you talking so much today?"
Qi Huaiyang loosened his arms and said in a relaxed voice, "That servant from the Imperial Household Department came to see me."
Yang Lun turned around quickly, "Deng Ying?"
"Yes, I didn't want to contact him at first, but what he said makes some sense, so I want to tell you about it."
"Go ahead."
Qi Huaiyang said, "This joint memorial cannot be submitted anymore. I heard that His Majesty almost killed Zheng Yuejia from the Imperial Household Department the night before."
Yang Lun said coldly: "Isn't this good?"
Qi Huaiyang laughed and said, "I asked him the same question."
Yang Lun said: "What did he say."
Qi Huaiyang did not answer but asked, "Can your cabinet suppress the group of people in the Six Departments and the Censorate now?"
After hearing his question, Yang Lun walked forward a few steps in silence, and shook his head after a while, "I don't know now, is it because the teacher is unwilling to suppress it, or is it because he can't suppress it."
Qi Huaiyang shook his head and said, "If Zheng Yuejia is beaten to death by His Majesty, it would be fine if it can calm these people down. But if it encourages the arrogance of the Donglin Party, you and Lord Bai should think about how this matter will end."
Yang Lun lowered his head and said, "You think Deng Ying is right."
"Not completely. After all, he is now a member of the Imperial Household Department."
Qi Huaiyang paused and said, "But I feel that his words are not meant to protect the Imperial Household Department."
Yang Lun nodded, "I know this."
Qi Huaiyang continued: "In fact, I was also wondering why he came to me instead of telling you directly."
"Oh…"
Yang Lun shook his head and laughed, patted the tree trunk behind him, and said sadly:
"Mr. Zhang is dead. He must hate me and the teacher very much."
Qi Huaiyang did not respond. He turned and looked towards the row of side rooms to the west. Candles were lit inside, vaguely reflecting the shadows of two or three people.
"Are all the cabinet elders here today?"
Yang Lun followed his gaze and glanced, "Zhang Cong hasn't come yet."
Qi Huaiyang smiled and said, "If he's not here, the Youdu official won't come either, which is good."
As soon as he finished speaking, the people in front of the hall suddenly fell silent.
Yang Lun turned around and saw Zhang Cong getting out of the sedan chair in front of the mountain gate.
Qi Huaiyang walked to Yang Lun and said, "Oh, I can't tell you."
Yang Lun turned around and said, "You go first."
After saying that, a man walked towards the mountain gate.
Zhang Cong is already sixty-seven years old this year. His hair and beard are all white, but he is still energetic and does not look as serious as Zhang Luo.
He stood in front of the sedan chair, waited for Yang Lun to salute, and then returned the salute with a smile.
"I heard that it was Minister Yang who was concerned about Mr. Zhang's affairs after his death."
Yang Lun replied calmly, "Mr. Zhang's son is still on his way back to Beijing from Hainan and should arrive today. I am only entrusted with this."
Zhang Cong smiled and said, "It's not easy. By the way, where is Elder Bai?"
Yang Lun stepped aside and said, "The teacher is in the west wing."
"good."
Zhang Cong didn't say anything else and walked towards the west wing.
Yang Lun was about to leave when Zhang Luo suddenly called him, "Minister Yang."
Yang Lun paused.
"What is it?"
Zhang Luo threw the reins to the servant, walked past Yang Lun in silence, and walked to the front, then said: "His Majesty has been tolerant of you again and again. It's time for you to restrain yourself. If Zhang Zhanchun alone is not enough to intimidate those people in the six departments..."
"Zhang Luo!"
Zhang Luo turned around, not caring about Yang Lun interrupting him, and said, "The Northern Pacification Office is the emperor's authority. If you offend the emperor's authority, you will be guilty. I can't care about anything else."
"Wait a moment."
Yang Lun turned around and caught up with him, "What do you mean by that?"
Zhang Luo did not respond to his words, but just said coldly, "Get out of the way."
Yang Lun wanted to ask more, but he heard a sudden noise at the gate of the mountain.
The officials who were originally standing scattered in front of the Duobao Hall now gathered together at the mountain gate.
Zhang Luo lowered his head and glanced down at the mountain gate, then turned around and walked over. Yang Lun hurriedly followed him and walked towards the mountain gate.
At the foot of the mountain gate, Deng Ying stood in the rain with an umbrella.
The rain at this time was much heavier than before, and the raindrops hung under the edge of the umbrella like beads.
Although many officials present knew Deng Ying before, it was the first time they met him after Deng Ying was tortured.
Although they all have their own attitudes, they all cannot avoid looking down on others.
An imperial censor named Huang from the Metropolitan Censorate stepped out of the crowd, raised his hand and shouted, "Your teacher died because of you, and you still have the nerve to stand here?"
Deng Ying raised her head and said, "Deng Ying came here to pay respect to the teacher. I have no intention of offending you, sir."
After saying that, he put down the umbrella, raised his hand, and bowed.
Censor Huang did not return the greeting. Instead, he pointed at Deng Ying and chuckled to the people behind him, "Look, now even the servants in the palace are performing the salute. Where is the great courtesy?"
Deng Ying lowered his head and said nothing. He released the bow, lifted his robe, knelt down, and bowed again.
"Please, gentlemen, allow Deng Ying to pay respect to the teacher."
Yang Lun stood behind the crowd and was about to step forward when Qi Huaiyang pulled him back and said, "Don't go."
He was a little annoyed for a moment, and lowered his voice and said:
"Let go."
Qi Huaiyang didn't listen to him and looked down at the crowd.
"It's not that I want to pull you, it's that the person kneeling below doesn't want you to show your face."
Yang Lun was stunned.
"Why?"
Qi Huaiyang looked at the people in the rain and said calmly:
"You are a member of the cabinet, so it's fine to be in the lobby of the Ministry of Justice. But you can't stand against the Six Ministries and the Censorate at this time. Otherwise, the cabinet will be more passive in suppressing people like Huang Yushi."
Yang Lun couldn't help but clench his fists after hearing this.
Sometimes, he even hated Deng Ying a little.
He originally thought that Zhang Zhanchun's death would make Deng Ying hate him and the officialdom, but he didn't seem to do so. Just as Zhang Zhanchun understood them, he did not blame him and Bai Huan. Even in the most humble situation, he was still trying to take care of the cabinet that had humiliated him.
But isn't this forcing them to feel ashamed
"Please allow Deng Ying to pay tribute to the teacher."
Deng Ying raised her voice and said it again.
Some officials were silent when they saw him kneeling and begging in the rain.
Censor Huang didn't say anything either.
However, just when someone tried to persuade the people around him to make way for him, a cold voice suddenly came from the crowd, "Allowing you to enter the mourning hall is not to humiliate the ancestors."
Everyone looked back and saw that the person who was speaking was wearing a black robe and had an embroidered spring sword on his waist, so they hurriedly pushed him aside.
No one dared to speak again.
Yang Lun couldn't bear to continue, so he turned around and was about to walk into the hall when he suddenly heard a clear female voice.
"Deng Ying, get up."
Yang Lun's heart sank. He turned around and pushed through the crowd. As expected, he saw Yang Wan bending over, holding an umbrella with one hand and holding Deng Ying's arm with the other.
She was also dressed in plain clothes, with no ornaments on her body except for a pair of hibiscus jade pendants around her waist, which revealed her identity at a glance.
Deng Ying raised her head.
The person in front of me was soaked by the rain, his hair stuck to his face, but his expression was still gentle.
"Get up! If you don't get up, I'm going to get angry and leave."
She said this, but she didn't loosen her grip on his arm.
In the rain during the twelfth year of Zhenning, many people forced him to kneel down, but only this girl asked him to stand up.
When he was stunned, she pursed her lips, raised her head to glance inside the mountain gate, then lowered her head to look at him, and said to him in a gentle voice:
"Deng Ying, Mr. Zhang will be uncomfortable seeing you like this."
After saying that, he used some more strength and said, "Get up and I'll help you."
Deng Ying didn't dare to hurt her, and quickly stood up using her strength.
Yang Wan helped him stand steadily, then took out her handkerchief from her bosom and handed it to him, "Wipe the rain off your face and hold the umbrella open."
After saying that, he walked towards Zhang Luo alone.
"Yang Wan!"
Yang Wan did not respond to Deng Ying and walked straight to the stone steps of the mountain gate.
This was not the first time she faced Zhang Luo, but this time, she did not feel the slightest bit of fear in her heart.
"Although your last name is Zhang, are you a relative of Mr. Zhang?"
Zhang Luo's eyes darkened.
Yang Lun hurriedly walked out of the crowd and said, "Wan'er, don't be so presumptuous."
Yang Wan turned and glanced at Yang Lun, "Sir Yang, I am the maid of the Shangyi Bureau, in charge of the inner court etiquette. Can't I correct the mistakes and omissions in the funeral ceremony and worship?"
Yang Lun was so angry that he felt chest tightness. She obviously had no intention of giving him face, or even giving face to everyone present.
Yang Wan looked at Zhang Luo again and repeated, "Is Master Zhang a relative of Mr. Zhang?"
Zhang Luo was silent at first, and then said coldly: "No."
"Mr. Zhang's relatives are not here today, only his relatives and his only student are here, but you forced him to kneel and beg, and did not allow him to pay homage. What kind of gift is this? You studied hard for decades just to be superior to others at this moment, and unite to fight against dissidents?"
Zhang Luo said in a deep voice, "Do you know what you are talking about?"
Yang Wan knelt and saluted, "If my words offend you, I am willing to accept the blame."
A few drops of rain flowed down her cheeks and into her mouth.
After finishing Jiang Cai's words, she suddenly felt a little dazed.
It seemed like this was the first time she had experienced this scene, but it also seemed like she had experienced it many times.
In countless seminars, she stood alone like this, facing a group of serious people. Those people were actually not wrong, they were also researchers who had buried themselves in piles of old papers for a lifetime and adhered to their own academic views. It was just that they did not believe her, nor did they believe the person behind her. Compared with the past, she tried desperately to reassemble the image of Deng Ying in front of them, tried desperately to correct those views that were deeply prejudiced against him, and tried desperately to maintain the posthumous reputation of a deceased person.
Today, what she is protecting is Deng Ying’s legitimate dignity.
He was alive, and he was standing behind her.
It is not an illusion in the long river of history, nor is it her lonely obsession.
Yang Wan felt a little choked up in her throat.
If Deng Ying had not come back from six hundred years later, would he never have known that there was a descendant he did not know, who stood in opposition to most people and expressed his feelings.