Song Xingzhi lived during the reign of Emperor Huizong

Chapter 47

He Ziyuan frowned, forcing a smile, "It's nothing serious, a little medicine will do the trick." Seeing Xiaoxian arrive, Wu quickly grabbed the small porcelain bottle, poured out a pill, and gave it to He Ziyuan.

He Ziyuan swallowed the medicine and then had some tea with it. Seeing that his two children were looking at him with concern, he said, "It's nothing serious, just that my heart condition has flared up again. I'll be more careful next time."

Before he could finish speaking, Madam Wu turned away to wipe her tears. After a moment, she turned back and complained, "You know you have a heart condition, yet you let people force you to drink, as if no one in the family cares. How long do you expect me to keep worrying? I thought it would be good that you were back, but who knew you would turn out like this?"

He Ziyuan smiled bitterly, "With your son and daughter here, aren't you afraid of looking bad?" Wu Shi quickly wiped away her tears and remained silent. He Ziyuan continued, "It's rare for everyone to be so happy, I can't spoil the mood. Besides, if I don't drink more and pretend to be drunk, who knows what other trouble I'll get into." Wu Shi spat at him and had someone help him inside to rest. After everything was settled, she turned to her two siblings and said, "In the future, try not to upset Father. He has a heart condition and is most averse to emotional fluctuations."

It turns out that when He Ziyuan was sent as an envoy to Tibet, he was trapped deep in the snow-capped mountains for two or three years for some reason. He suffered from severe altitude sickness and was extremely unaccustomed to the conditions, resulting in severe oxygen deficiency, which led to a heart condition. In scientific terms, it was heart disease.

This is actually a disease that people from non-plateau areas would suddenly develop after living in plateau areas for a long time. Su Chen had read some surveys before, and it is said that almost all the soldiers stationed in Tibet have heart disease of varying degrees. This is almost a memorial to them mixed with blood, tears and scars.

My family had a long history of banditry, and then a minor warlord. The average lifespan of each generation is short; it seems cursed, with almost every male descendant only living to their thirties.

Occupying a territory of moderate size, wary of the covetousness of other warlords, he carefully and cautiously managed his domain. However, just when he was ready to make a name for himself, he would suddenly fall ill.

Therefore, the people in the family inexplicably have a kind of anxious, irritable, and irritable personality.

Because he had no idea when or why he would lose his once arrogant and unrestrained life, he became increasingly arrogant as he lived. As a result, he became even more ruthless and actually managed to make a name for himself.

Unfortunately, their lives were always short and filled with misfortune.

I can't remember which ancestor, what generation, or what his name was, took in a woman by chance when he was young.

It started as a casual encounter. I was going to use her as a woman anyway, and I happened to meet a fleeing person who was ugly. Since I didn't need anything, I took her home as a dispensable person.

She was originally just a woman who slept with others.

He didn't think there was anything wrong with this idea. There was absolutely no moral condemnation or awkwardness.

He was originally a bandit.

In chaotic times, human life is cheaper than grass. He can exchange a large silver dollar for a dozen or twenty women, regardless of gender. They are all submissive and obedient, serving you comfortably.

Yet she was a strange woman. She seemed literate, polite, and virtuous. She understood interpersonal relationships and etiquette, and even knew a little self-defense. He couldn't understand why such a woman would stay in this bandit's den. Yet she was gentle and tender, seemingly devoted entirely to him. Before he knew it, he was slowly falling for her. And so, naturally, a feast was laid out, and a child was born.

It was under her persuasion that he began to slowly and steadily consolidate his territory using a series of methods. At this point, he thought, "This wife can also be used as an advisor."

It was under her persuasion that he began to learn a tactic called "strategic alliances" to slowly compete with other warlords and bandits. At that moment, he thought, "This wife of mine is truly formidable."

It was also at her urging that he moved to the county town, instead of hiding in the mountains. At this point, he no longer wanted to think about anything. Through this experience, he had learned not to voice his thoughts, but rather to harbor a subtle suspicion in his heart.

Around the age of thirty-three, he returned from fighting with people from another mountain. While he was drinking and celebrating with his brothers, he suddenly felt an intense pain in his heart. He realized that he could not escape his fate after all.

However, she left swiftly and returned just as quickly.

The pill, brought from who-knows-where, stopped the pain with just one pill.

She carefully managed his diet, specifying what he could and could not eat.

He gradually recovered and gradually distanced himself from the days of venturing out and fighting.

Many years later, they moved to the so-called city, where he could speak with confidence, act with confidence and resources, and have the ability to look down on some people.

However, it was also she who told him that anyone with even a little status would try to be as humble as possible. She told him, based on the old farmers' experience, that when the wheat ears are empty, they always stand tall and proudly hold their heads high; when the wheat ears are full and ripe, they always behave docilely and lower their heads.

People who are truly confident are usually not proud.

He listened.

He thought, without exaggeration, that she taught him what it meant to be a truly meaningful person.

When their first child was eight years old, she finally asked him for a favor.

It's a very old story. The daughter of a prominent Huizhou merchant family, whose father was away doing business and whose mother died early, was raised by her grandmother. Then, her father was killed on the way by a rival and his brothers. The family split into several factions, and the grandmother tried to suppress the younger brother who had killed his brother, but ultimately failed to do so.

So the grandmother was driven out, and she was sold.

After years of wandering, she escaped from human slave traders and devoted all her efforts to finding her grandmother. However, it was all in vain. She thought that perhaps, one person is really too insignificant, so when he rescued her, she wisely decided to stay.

Relying on the power of a bandit is still too small; however, the power of a warlord, though not large, is already considerable.

He helped her.

Countless detectives and investigators were dispatched, but to no avail. The uncle who had successfully seized power in the area failed in his business and committed suicide.

People from our hometown either fled or scattered; none of them could be found to have any trace of our grandmother.

It had only been three months since she was wounded by a stray bullet during the fighting; she hadn't expected it to be so serious. Her wound had worsened, and she needed to prepare for her passing.

He asked her if she had any other wishes.

She replied that she wanted to see her grandmother.

This wish was ultimately not fulfilled. That night, white curtains were hung in the mansion, contrasting sadly with the house across the street, which had been draped in white the day before.

An old man died in that family.

However, a strong young man died in his home.

The next day, he sat on the sofa flipping through the newspaper. This was what she had taught him: to stay informed about current affairs, even though newspapers could be misleading, they were the easiest and cheapest way to get a general idea of the situation.

He turned to her complaint in the newspaper.

It feels like a lifetime ago.

Is it really true that he's gone...?

Rows of notices were displayed together, and his eyes were fixed on hers. Just as he was about to close it, he suddenly noticed the one next to it, with a name that was both familiar and unfamiliar—the name she had murmured every day during her days of suffering. The address was on the same street, probably her hometown across the street.