Chapter 216 The Eighteenth Day of Entering a Rebirth Novel
Chapter 216 The Eighteenth Day of Entering a Rebirth Novel
Chapter 216: The Eighteenth Day of Transmigrating into the Rebirth Novel
Love... lovesickness?!
Huo Huai jerked his head up, his entire body stiffening.
A flush of blood surged to his handsome face, reddening even more than it had that afternoon when facing An Yi, the color spreading to the back of his ears until they almost seemed to bleed.
Him? Lovesick? For whom?
...The National Teacher?
How absurd—how could he ever!
How could he harbor such blasphemous thoughts toward that figure, like a bright moon above the clouds, so lofty and ethereal?
"Nonsense!" Huo Huai stood up. "Absolutely impossible! Physician, you must have misdiagnosed!"
Seeing his fierce reaction, his face filled with disbelief as if he had heard the most ridiculous thing in the world, the old physician shrank back, not daring to argue further, and quickly bowed:
"Yes, yes, yes. My medical skills are shallow; perhaps I was mistaken. Lord Heir, please rest more and calm your mind..."
But inwardly, he snorted in dissatisfaction. He had practiced medicine for decades—how could he not recognize these symptoms?
He was the professional!
The Lord Heir was clearly suffering from lovesickness, and a severe case at that!
As for the object of his affections... judging by the Lord Heir's expression, ah, a taboo subject, too deep to speak of.
Huo Huai, agitated and disturbed, didn't want to dwell on it. He waved his hand to dismiss the physician.
Autumn deepened, turning the ginkgo trees in the courtyard yellow and scattering withered leaves across the ground.
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Since that day the old physician had diagnosed him with lovesickness, Huo Huai dared not look An Yi in the eyes.
An Yi naturally noticed. Ah... the pangs of young love!
When the barbarian envoy from the northern grasslands arrived at the capital, bringing with them dust and an undisguised wildness, the chill of deep autumn seemed to grow even more pronounced.
They rode steppe horses, clad in thick fur robes, curved sabers at their waists, their eyes surveying this prosperous, wealthy capital beyond their imagination.
Nominally, they came to pay tribute, offering fine horses, furs, and some grassland gems, to show submission and friendship to the Great Ming Emperor.
But within the court, aside from the old emperor, still immersed in alchemy and seeing the arrival of envoys from all directions as an auspicious omen, every knowledgeable civil and military official understood the probing and menace hidden beneath this so-called "tribute."
Though there had been no major war at the border in recent years, small-scale skirmishes and raids had never ceased.
These envoys had come to spy on the situation, to weigh the strength of Great Ming.
To display the Celestial Empire's magnanimity and to intimidate these restless neighbors, a grand palace banquet was held in the Hall of Assembled Excellence.
Night fell, and lanterns were lit.
Inside the Hall of Assembled Excellence, glazed palace lanterns and countless candles lit the hall as bright as day.
Golden pillars, floor tiles smooth as mirrors, glazed cups and golden plates and jade chopsticks laid out, and the colorful, intricately embroidered robes of the officials—all together formed a dazzling scene of prosperity and splendor.
The sound of strings and pipes filled the air, and teams of dancers in colorful garments, their figures graceful, danced gracefully to the music, flowing sleeves flying, fragrant breezes drifting.
Utmost luxury and exquisite etiquette, like a layer of gorgeous silk, tried to wrap around the wildness and restlessness from the grasslands, carrying the scent of game and dust.
And the barbarians... they were naturally covetous.
An Yi, as National Teacher, held a transcendent status, naturally seated at the banquet.
His seat was arranged below the imperial dais, second only to the emperor, opposite the seats of the princes.
He still wore a wide black Daoist robe, his sleeves loose, his posture relaxed as he sat on a soft cushion, his fingertips occasionally idly stroking the edge of the warm, translucent jade cup before him.
Like a wisp of mountain breeze, a handful of moonlight in the forest.
He had brought two students along today to witness the scene, and they now stood respectfully behind him, hands at their sides.
Huo Huai regretted not being able to accompany him as a student, but it didn't matter—his status as Lord Heir of Marquis Zhongyong was enough to grant him attendance at this banquet.
He sat beside his father, Marquis Zhongyong, in a relatively forward position, with a clear view of the black-robed figure on the opposite side.
He forced himself not to look, fixing his gaze on the wine cup before him as if he could see flowers blooming there.
Yet, from the corner of his eye, his gaze uncontrollably drifted in that direction.
Every inadvertent glance made his heart skip a beat, followed by deeper self-loathing and suppression.
...To dismiss lovesickness, one must be unwilling to be cured.
He had already thought it through, completely.
The old physician was right. He was indeed suffering from lovesickness, and the object of his affections was the National Teacher, high above the clouds.
But... how could someone like the National Teacher ever be his to covet?
This hopeless feeling, like a corrosive poison, tormented him, yet he savored it.
To be able to look at him like this was already a luxury.
Ran Zhuyu also attended the banquet with her father, Right Grand Chancellor Ran Yuanzheng.
She sat in the women's section, her expression cold.
An Yi noticed that Crown Prince Qi Haocang's gaze kept drifting toward the women's section, specifically toward Ran Zhuyu.
There was admiration in that look, and a sense of determination, along with some anger and unwillingness at her coldness.
An Yi lifted his jade cup, taking a shallow sip of the clear imperial wine, a faint smile barely curving his lips.
It seemed the timing had reached the point where this Crown Prince's "wife-chasing crematorium" began.
He recalled the original plot with interest. In this banquet, the barbarians would not just quietly drink and watch the dancers.
In the original story, something happened at this banquet. The barbarians attacked the previous disaster in Yongzhou, angering the Great Ming side. The two sides were already heated from a martial contest, and a minor barbarian general nearly died on the spot.
The Second Prince leading the barbarian delegation stood up to accuse Great Ming. Ran Zhuyu stood up and argued with him. And then... she completely captured the attention of the Crown Prince, the Second Prince, and the Seventh Prince, who was watching from the shadows... fine.
Because of Ran Zhuyu, when the Second Prince later returned to take over the barbarian tribe, he never fought against Great Ming again... well, that was a good thing.
Sure enough, halfway through the banquet, the Second Prince, seated at the head of the barbarian delegation—a burly man with the rough, wild beauty typical of the grasslands—laughed loudly and stood up, raising his cup to toast the old emperor on the throne.
His voice was booming, and he spoke fluent Mandarin: "Great Emperor of the Celestial Empire! The Celestial Empire is rich in treasures and talented people, with magnificent cities and prosperous citizens—we are truly impressed. Our eyes are dazzled! Haha!"
After a few pleasantries, his tone suddenly shifted, his gaze sweeping over the Great Ming military officials' seats like a physical force, carrying blatant provocation: "We sons of the grasslands are born on horseback, raised under the bow and saber. What we respect most are true heroes and capable men! We admire fists and skill!"
The Second Prince continued, raising his voice: "We come from a desolate wilderness with shallow knowledge. Today, fortunate to meet the heroes of the Celestial Empire, our hands itch with excitement! May I ask if you would oblige us with a contest, to stretch our limbs, so that we uncivilized barbarians can truly see and experience the martial prowess of the Celestial Empire?!"