sjar Chapter 407 Choice
Chapter 407 Choice
Thinking of this, Bowen opened his half-closed eyes, looked at Long Qiushan calmly, and said slowly, "Then Young Master Long should stay in the academy for the time being and study with peace of mind. The capital is a prosperous place with many beautiful and charming scenery. Young Master Long can travel around in his spare time to broaden his horizons. Moreover, with Young Master Long's talent, if he has the opportunity to become an aide to the Prime Minister or the Crown Prince in the future, it is not impossible."
As he spoke, Bowen turned to Ji Feng, who was guarding the door, and instructed, "Ji Feng, quickly take Young Master Long to complete the enrollment procedures. Make sure all matters are properly arranged. He will study at your Tianlong Pavilion in the future, so please take good care of him."
Upon hearing this, Ji Feng hurriedly bowed and said, "Yes, Master, don't worry, I will make the proper arrangements."
Then, he turned to Long Qiushan and said gently, "Young Master Long, please follow me."
After Long Qiushan left with Ji Feng, Bowen looked solemn. He called over his personal attendant, Haoyue, and asked anxiously, "Is there any news about His Royal Highness the Crown Prince? This matter is of great importance and we must not neglect it in the slightest."
Haoyue hurriedly approached Bowen, bent down, and whispered in a low voice, "Master, I just received news from County Magistrate Wu that His Royal Highness the Crown Prince is unwell and is recuperating at the Pingyang County Office."
Bowen waved his hand, signaling Haoyue to leave. Haoyue bowed respectfully and slowly withdrew. Bowen sat on the armchair, his brows furrowed tightly, his mind full of thoughts.
His Royal Highness the Crown Prince has been expelled from the capital by the Emperor for more than half a year. The Crown Prince has long lost his real power, and the once majestic Crown Prince's Mansion is now just an empty shell with no substance.
Wenyuan Academy was fortunate to have the firm support of a group of loyal old ministers, which enabled it to survive this turbulent situation.
There are many talented students in the world. However, if the prince is to be saved, the power of these students alone is far from enough. He must also rely on the old ministers in the court.
In order to strengthen the Crown Prince's power, he had to first win over the powerful and established officials in the court. Only by letting those who supported the Crown Prince see hope and common interests could they work together, and only then would the Crown Prince's power grow stronger and he would have the possibility of rising again.
Thinking of this, Bowen sighed heavily. If His Royal Highness the Crown Prince could get the full support of the Wu family army, then this power game would be half won.
It's a pity that all he could win over with all his efforts were some weak civil officials. Without the solid backing of military generals with heavy troops, he was ultimately lacking in confidence and was walking on thin ice.
Bowen unfolded Wang Yuelun's painting with a dejected look and took a look at it. Then, without hesitation, he handed it to Haoyue and said wearily, "Sell it along with the treasures you collected this month. In today's situation, there's little point in keeping these possessions."
Haoyue paused for a moment, a hint of hesitation and reluctance showing on his face. He couldn't help but persuade, "Master, why don't you keep this painting? Mr. Wang Yuelun's paintings are priceless treasures. It would be a shame to sell them off like this."
"No."
Bowen waved his hand resolutely, "To support the students in the academy and the Crown Prince's staff, it's absolutely impossible without money. This is the only thing I can do for the Crown Prince now."
The current situation is so difficult that the only ones who can firmly support the Crown Prince are those loyal old ministers. We must do everything we can to raise funds and recruit more forces for the Crown Prince, so that when the time is right, we can make a difference. If we can't even do this, how can I face the Crown Prince's trust?
At this time, in the quiet and peaceful Futian Village, Fusu was rolling up his sleeves and concentrating on making dough and steamed buns in front of the chopping board.
Grandma Zhang came over with a shabby but clean basket and handed it to Fusu. "Ah Su, put some steamed buns here and bring a plate of our homemade kimchi."
"Okay, Tai Nai, let me tell you, the steamed buns I made today are quite delicious."
As Fusu spoke, he deftly opened the steaming steamer, took out a few plump white buns, and placed them neatly in a basket, then put a plate of pickles on it.
At that moment, San Gouzi also came back with a basket full of sweet potatoes. He put the basket down heavily on the ground, dusted himself off, and looked a little tired.
Fusu glanced at the sky outside casually and couldn't help but murmur in his heart, it's still early. In the past, San Gouzi always worked tirelessly in the fields until dark before coming back. He had never returned home as early as today.
"Brother, is there anything going on today?" Fusu asked with a puzzled look on his face.
"Today is the anniversary of my father's death." San Gouzi's voice was low and suppressed.
While Fusu and San Gouzi were talking, Grandma Zhang changed into a black dress inside the house, walked over slowly with a slightly staggering step, and said in a low voice: "Let's go."
Fusu followed quietly behind the three dogs, while Grandma Zhang walked in front. The three of them walked slowly and silently towards the mountain behind the village.
Fusu's eyes fell on the bamboo basket in the grandmother's hand. Seeing the money, paper, incense and candles placed inside, he guessed that grandmother Zhang made such preparations probably to commemorate the deceased grandfather Zhang.
After a difficult trek, the three finally reached the top of the mountain. At this moment, the afterglow of the setting sun shone softly on Grandma Zhang's silver-white hair.
San Gouzi gently put down the bamboo basket in his hand and skillfully placed the incense, candles and paper money.
"Ah Su, hurry up and get the buns out." San Gouzi, busy with his work, turned to look at Fusu, who was standing there in a daze, and said in a louder voice, "Don't be in a daze, Ah Su! I heard from Mom that Dad loved to eat these white flour buns when he was alive. We brought them here today, so Dad's spirit in heaven will be pleased to see them."
Fusu was confused and asked quietly, "Where is the grave? Why can't I see it?"
San Gouzi's expression tensed, and he quickly made a silent gesture. Then he gently pulled Fusu aside and said in a low voice, "A Su, please speak softly. Don't let mother hear you and get upset. Dad was framed by that hateful corrupt official and ended up with nothing left.
Every year on the anniversary of Dad's death, Mom would insist on holding a memorial service on the top of the highest mountain in the village. She said that by standing on this highest mountain, Dad could see her from afar and find his way home.
"Corrupt official?"
Hearing these two infuriating words, he clenched his fists tightly and asked through gritted teeth, "Who's your name? I'll make this evil man pay for it!"