Chapter 44: Into a Political Intrigue Novel, Day 22

Chapter 44: The Twenty-Second Day of Entering a Political Intrigue Novel

"Teacher."

A warm and calm voice sounded outside the railing, not loud, but clearly reaching Duan Mingde's ears.

Duan Mingde's shoulders trembled violently!

It was as if the familiar address had stabbed him deeply. He finally turned his head slowly, with immense difficulty.

In the flickering torchlight, An Yi stood silently.

He still wore the deep crimson official robe symbolizing the authority of the Secretariat Director, the garment immaculate, not a single wrinkle.

A jade belt cinched his waist, outlining his lean, upright figure.

Beneath the black gauze cap, his clear, jade-like face appeared exceptionally serene in the dim light, even carried a hint of compassionate gentleness.

This stood in stark and cruel contrast to the filthy, despairing, death-reeking cell.

Duan Mingde's gaze fixed on An Yi's face, scraping over it inch by inch.

His eyes finally settled on the warm, translucent jade belt at An Yi's waist.

That was the symbol of the Secretariat Director.

It was he, Duan Mingde, who had personally pushed him into this position! It was he who had endowed him with the ability to manipulate events!

"Heh... heh heh..." A strange, grating laugh like a broken bellows came from Duan Mingde's throat.

The laughter grew louder, more manic!

"Well done... a fine An Yi indeed! A fine An Junheng indeed!"

He suddenly propped himself up, his withered fingers digging into the moldy straw beneath him, his knuckles white from strain.

The laughter ceased abruptly. He glared into An Yi's eyes, his gaze venomous, each word forced out through clenched teeth:

"Back then, when I gave you your courtesy name, 'Yi' for change and adaptability, 'Heng' for balance... holding the two ends and using the middle, adapting while staying constant, the way of a gentleman... a fine Junheng! A fine way of the gentleman!"

He lunged forward suddenly, his withered body crashing against the cold iron bars with a loud clang, making the torchlight flicker wildly.

His grimy, wrinkled face pressed against the rough bars, twisted and contorted:

"I taught you the way of officialdom! Taught you court intrigue! Taught you to stir up storms! Taught you ruthlessness! Taught you how to climb up in this mire of power by stepping on the bones of others!"

His voice rose sharply: "And you! You learned to surpass the master! You turned around and used what I taught you against me... used this calculation of 'holding the two ends and using the middle' to forge this coffin of utter doom for me! Fine student! You truly are my fine student! Hahaha..."

The manic laughter rang out again, sending chills down the spine: "I poured out everything I knew, treated you like a son and disciple! And this is how you repay me?!"

An Yi listened quietly, the trace of compassionate warmth on his face unmoving like a mask: "Really? I don't buy it."

Duan Mingde's cheek twitched, the look of betrayed grief faded from his face, leaving only hatred: "You really did learn well, didn't you?"

"Teacher." An Yi's voice remained calm: "The river works south of the Yangtze cost hundreds of thousands of taels of silver, enough to build three solid, impregnable dikes. Yet corruption was rife, the dikes were built with inferior materials, utterly useless. Last summer's flood turned three prefectures into a vast swamp, drowning thirty-seven thousand six hundred and forty-one people, and countless others were left homeless."

His gaze turned to Duan Mingde, placid and unperturbed: "Wang Xian was merely a lackey; you cast him aside like a worn-out shoe, and no one objected. But what of the millions of people south of the river? What was their crime? Were they merely dust to be wiped from your chessboard?"

Duan Mingde's manic laughter was cut short, as if his throat were choked, and he let out a scoff: "Hahaha, what are you saying? I never knew you, An Junheng, could be so naive!"

"How interesting! Hahaha! How interesting!"

An Yi said no more. He turned slightly, and the guard who had been silently standing behind him stepped forward, holding a tray, his face expressionless.

On the tray sat a plain white porcelain wine pot and a matching wine cup.

An Yi personally poured the wine, the clear liquor flowing into the cup with a soft sound.

The wine's fragrance was crisp and pure, overpowering the prison's nauseating stench. He picked up the cup and, through the cold bars, held it out to him.

"Your student sees the teacher off on his last journey."

Duan Mingde's gaze fixed on the clear wine, then slowly moved to An Yi's face.

That face was still handsome, still calm, his eyes deep and unfathomable, showing no pride, no mockery, no compassion—nothing at all.

Duan Mingde was frozen in place. The crackling of the torches and the distant, faint moans all seemed amplified.

Suddenly, Duan Mingde raised his hand—not to take the cup, but to knock it away fiercely!

"Crash—!"

The white porcelain cup was knocked to the ground, striking the cold stone floor and shattering into several pieces instantly.

The clear wine splashed out, spreading a small, stark wet stain on the filthy ground, releasing a stronger, almost unearthly fragrance.

"Final journey? Hahahaha!"

Duan Mingde stared at the fragments on the ground and burst into another fit of hysterical laughter: "You think... you think I'll drink this poisoned wine and let you have a 'dignified end'? An Junheng! My fine disciple!"

He lunged closer to the bars, his turbid eyes locked on An Yi's, his voice dropping to a low growl: "Don't even think about it!"

An Yi's hand, holding the wine pot, paused almost imperceptibly.

He suddenly smiled: "Teacher, you misunderstand your student. This is no poisoned wine. You have committed crimes, and in the end, the law of the land will judge you. This is merely a send-off toast from your student."

He continued: "When the day of your departure comes, your student will not be there, to spare myself the pain of watching."

Duan Mingde froze, then suddenly roared: "Get out!"

----------

An Yi left the prison and boarded his carriage, preparing to return to his residence, when he heard comments echoing in his ears:

"An Yi is so bad! I love him!"

"So cute, mommy wants to kiss you!"

"?"

"What's up with the person upstairs?"

"Sigh... I was straight and never liked gay stuff, but seeing how capable and impressive both are, I guess it's okay!"

"A bit of a stretch, but I can work with it!"

"What the hell is that freak upstairs?"

"I'm speechless!"

"When are they finally going to get together?"

"Should be any minute now. Right now An Yi is heading home, and Ge Lian is waiting at his place to corner him, isn't he?"

"When he gets back, he'll be doing this and that! Hehe!"

"..."

An Yi cleared his throat and immediately ordered An Ping, "We're not going back. Head to the Department of State Affairs!"

An Ping had no idea why his master had suddenly changed his mind, and simply replied, "Yes!"