The underground palace was dry and dark, so grains and flour could be preserved for a long time. Zhou Huairang found a large amount of food and grass in the granary, including food for people and straw for horses, which was so large that more than a dozen granaries could not hold it.
Zhou Huairang shouted "What a great joy! We've made a fortune!" He built high walls and stored abundant grains. It would be worthy even if he didn't become a king. From now on, all these will belong to the soldiers of Nanping!
They had been living on dry food for a while, and Zhou Huairang's eyes lit up when he saw the rice, and he wished he could roll in it. He scooped a pot of rice and prepared to cook a delicious meal for His Highness, when he suddenly heard strange noises coming from the front hall, one after another, which sounded like fighting.
Zhou Huairang was shocked. Could something have happened to His Highness
He didn't care about anything else. He was so anxious that he even forgot to put the pot away. He ran towards the main hall holding the iron pot, shouting as he ran: "Your Highness, I am late to protect you!"
As soon as Zhou Huairang stepped into the main hall, he saw a stool cut in half flying towards him. Then, he made a move that a weak scholar like him could brag about for the rest of his life.
He quickly raised the iron pot to cover his face, and the stool hit the bottom of the pot with a clanging sound and fell to the ground.
When did he develop such god-like reactions
Zhou Huairang put down the iron pot in a daze, and saw the Crown Prince holding a sword, full of hostility, and each time he drew his sword, he went straight to the opponent's vital points. It was not enough to just use the sword, the Crown Prince used the chaise longue to push himself up, kicked the enemy in the chest, and swept towards him fiercely.
And this "enemy" was undoubtedly the young Prince Beiyuan who was "fleeing" all over the palace.
Zhou Huairang breathed a sigh of relief. No matter how dumb he was, he was sure that the young prince would never hurt their highness. But, was this scene too intense
Although Wei Zhenfeng was prepared for Zhao Mian to draw his sword, he really didn't expect Zhao Mian's anger to be so intense that he couldn't calm it down in a short time.
He couldn't fight, so he could only dodge while communicating with Zhao Mian: "Didn't we agree not to draw the sword? You are not joking."
"What did you ask?" Zhao Mian was so angry that his face and eyes turned red. His voice was slightly panting, and his eyes were filled with strong humiliation and anger. "I want to ask what you just asked!"
Another sword stabbed at his chest. Wei Zhenfeng was tired of dodging and simply stood still, as if to say "you can stab me if you want." He thought Zhao Mian would stop, but he didn't expect that the other party had no intention of stopping at all. Not only did he not slow down, he seemed to speed up.
No, are you serious
In order to avoid being splashed with blood, Wei Zhenfeng was forced to dodge to the side at the last moment, and then held Zhao Mian's hand that was tightly holding the hilt of the sword with his backhand, and said helplessly: "When will you change this bad habit of drawing the sword at every turn?"
Zhao Mian said coldly: "I will never change in front of you even if I die."
Wei Zhenfeng reminded him: "You can't call Shen Buci here."
Zhao Mian's eyes darkened: "Why call Shen Buci? I will cut off your tongue with my own hands." Zhao Mian said harsh words, but in fact, he couldn't use any strength in his hands because Wei Zhenfeng was holding his wrist. He tried to break free: "Let go."
Wei Zhenfeng raised his eyebrows slightly, and really let go of his hand obediently. He released his strength unexpectedly, and Zhao Mian dived forward under inertia. Fortunately, he used his sword to support the ground in time and turned around suddenly.
Coincidentally, the sword was aimed at the entrance of the hall, and the tip of the sword was right in front of Zhou Huairang's eyebrows.
Zhao Mian: “…?”
Zhou Huairang subconsciously squatted on the ground, holding his head and trembling: "Your Highness, it's me!"
Zhao Mian came back to his senses: "You have nothing to do here." He ordered coldly, "Get out of the way."
Zhou Huairang didn't want to be implicated by the young prince's bad mouth, so he ran away: "I, I'll take my leave and go cook for you!"
After Zhou Huairang left, Zhao Mian didn't waste a moment and raised his sword again: "Watch out for the sword!"
The two of them fought all the way from the front hall to the bedroom. Wei Zhenfeng gradually became tired of dealing with the situation. His movements were visibly more strenuous. He was even kicked in the chest by Zhao Mian without paying attention, and he groaned in pain.
Wei Zhenfeng covered his chest and said, "I haven't eaten for three days because of you, can you not kick me so hard?"
Zhao Mian looked at the pale and handsome face of the boy and was not moved at all: "Are you doing this for me? Aren't you doing this for your child?"
Wei Zhenfeng asked in surprise: "So will there really be a child?" As he said that, he glanced at Zhao Mian's lower abdomen.
Zhao Mian was so angry that he didn't even care about the manners of a crown prince. He blurted out indecent words: "Wei Zhenfeng, what are you barking about?"
Wei Zhenfeng had no choice but to draw the dagger from his waist: "You forced me to do this."
After all, he is the Crown Prince who learned from one of the four great masters. If he really gets serious, it will be hard to deal with him without a weapon in his hand. If he continues to hide and not fight, he might really die under the Crown Prince's sword.
That would be too much of a loss, after all, the fifteenth of this month is almost here.
Zhao Mian sneered when he saw Wei Zhenfeng took out the dagger, and attacked without hesitation. However, Wei Zhenfeng was thinking about eating, and wanted to fight quickly, so he had to fight with all his strength without hurting Zhao Mian.
The two of them fought back and forth, and were evenly matched.
The bedroom they were in was the largest one in the underground palace. If their speculation was correct, this should be the bedroom that the Western Xia emperor carefully prepared for himself.
The hall was decorated with carved beams and painted buildings, and the inner pillars were engraved with swirling golden dragons. In the innermost part was a dragon bed inlaid with gold and jade. The bright yellow gauze curtains had been chopped into light strips during the fight between the two men and were scattered on the dragon bed.
Zhao Mian had to admit that Wei Zhenfeng was indeed fast, so fast that he had to expend a great deal of his mind and energy just to dodge. It was already very good that he could dodge. He had no time to think about where to hide so that he would have a chance to counterattack - and this was when Wei Zhenfeng had been hungry for three days.
Seeing the dagger with a cold glow coming towards him, Zhao Mian took several steps back and his calf hit something. He didn't know where he was forced to, and he had nowhere to retreat. The blade was getting closer and closer to him, and it was about to cut across his chest. Wei Zhenfeng suddenly withdrew his hand, replaced it with the other hand that was not holding the knife, and pushed him neatly on the chest -
This seems to be the top of Xixiazi's bed
Zhao Mian was slightly startled.
He... was forced onto the dragon bed by Wei Zhenfeng
Zhao Mian gripped the hilt of the sword tightly and was about to stand up to fight again, but was pushed back by Wei Zhenfeng who pressed on him: "Alright, alright, don't move."
How could Zhao Mian obey? He bent his legs and thrust his knee hard into Wei Zhenfeng's abdomen: "Let me go."
Wei Zhenfeng hissed and frowned. He seemed a little annoyed and raised his right hand holding the dagger towards him.
Zhao Mian was sure that Wei Zhenfeng would not dare to do anything to him, but he still closed his eyes out of instinct. He felt the blade coming towards him at high speed, and then his sleeve seemed to be pulled by something. He opened his eyes and looked sideways, only to see that his sleeve was firmly nailed to the dragon bed by Wei Zhenfeng's dagger.
Zhao Mian narrowed his eyes: "Are you looking for death?"
Wei Zhenfeng rubbed the place where Zhao Mian had kicked him just now, and said depressedly: "You have to give me some time to explain before you die."
"What do you have to explain? Wei Zhenfeng, what on earth are you thinking about all day long?"
"I understand that you are angry, but you have to consider the problem from my perspective." Wei Zhenfeng tried to explain his psychological journey to Zhao Mian step by step. "Your father can give birth, so I think you can too. Isn't this normal?"
Zhao Mian looked at the two teardrop moles on the boy's face, gritting his teeth and saying, "My father used Wan Hua Meng's secret medicine for having a child, and I didn't use it. How can I get pregnant? Tell me how can I get pregnant?!"
Wei Zhenfeng said: "But I ejaculated three times..."
Zhao Mian interrupted sternly: "Shut up! If you insult me with one more word, I will die with you on the 15th of this month."
Wei Zhenfeng patiently explained: "I am not insulting you. I am just thinking, why does your father use that kind of thing? Why did he choose to have a child with Prime Minister Xiao and not with others? Could this be a method used by Emperor Nanjing to consolidate the imperial power, prevent the harem from interfering in politics, the influence of foreign relatives, and the formation of factions among officials?"
Zhao Mian opened his eyes wide and for the first time looked at Wei Zhenfeng as if he were a fool.
Wei Zhenfeng was completely unaware, and sat down next to Zhao Mian, covering his wound: "You are the future emperor of Nanjing, so do you have to respect the tradition of Nanjing like your father did, and give birth to your own prince?"
Zhao Mian: “…”
Wei Zhenfeng was not comfortable sitting, so he simply lay down, looking at the two dragons playing with a pearl on the top of the bed, and said, "Besides, your behavior recently seems a bit like you are pregnant. You were retching."
Zhao Mian: “…”
Wei Zhenfeng put his hands behind his head and laughed: "But seeing how you reacted just now, I knew you wouldn't get pregnant with my child. I was overthinking it."
Zhao Mian was silent for a long time, then he said, "Wei Zhenfeng."
"Um?"
"Have you ever thought that the reason my father and the prime minister gave birth to me and my brother was just because... they liked each other?"
Wei Zhenfeng seemed to suddenly not understand what people were saying: "Ah?"
Zhao Mian said slowly, "Having a child with the person you love, having one or two children with the same bloodline, is this difficult to understand?"
Wei Zhenfeng: “…”
The silence will not disappear, it will only transfer from Zhao Mian to Wei Zhenfeng.
Zhao Mian said sarcastically: "Young Prince, you don't think that the emperor has children just to have more offspring and successors, right?"
Wei Zhenfeng was startled for a moment, and said softly: "I do think so."
Zhao Mian sneered and turned around to look at the two dragons playing with a pearl on the top of the bed with Wei Zhenfeng: "Idiot."
Wei Zhenfeng said: "In the Beiyuan Palace, every concubine gave birth to a child for the sake of winning favor or for the glory of their mother's family. I have never seen anyone give birth to a child for my father because she liked him. My father favored them and gave birth to children with them not because he liked them, but because he thought that having many children would help the stability of the country."
Qianjiyuan had found out some secrets about Beiyuan's harem, but the intensity of the struggle was unimaginable to Zhao Mian and others who had never experienced it.
Two years ago, when Wei Zhenfeng penetrated deep into Lingzhou and defeated the enemy, his mother died suddenly without any warning. It was said that she had a sudden serious illness, but he did not know the truth.
"So, I never thought that the emperor could be like an ordinary person and have a child because he loves each other." Wei Zhenfeng said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Your Highness, I was rude."
(End of this chapter)