Un joven enfermizo que viaja a la época de la dinastía Song

Capítulo 292

Hu Yong looked at him, his upturned mustache slowly drooping downwards.

He gave a thumbs-up and said, "Disciple, I was blind to have taken you in back then."

When the jailer approached, Old Hu quickly said, "It was my idea! We can't take Qi Zhi away! Qi Zhi doesn't know anything! Taking Qi Zhi away won't do you any good!"

No matter how arrogantly he shouted, neither the parties involved nor the prison guards were interested in him.

The jailer didn't even glance at him; his apprentice had long since been sold to books...

Qi Zhi recognized the person in front of him. Even if she closed her eyes, he could tell because she had stepped on his book. He was the kind of person who could remember touching his precious book.

He especially remembered that she knew Sikong and that she had written a book that he couldn't understand.

"Qizhi, I trust your character." He offered the compliment first, whether it would actually work or not was another matter.

"You don't need to say anything, I know what to do." He may be slow-witted, but he's not stupid.

He lifted her hand; the person on the bed was cold and lifeless.

This way she wouldn't be able to step on his book. After confirming this fact, she was secretly delighted and felt more energetic when taking his pulse than before.

But...why...was she so badly injured? She wasn't one of them...

"Your Majesty, I need to go back and think about it."

"Will you save him?"

For the first time, Qi Zhi pondered deeply. He knew what saving her meant, but he had no way out: "Let me think about it."

"I will give you one day."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

[Beauty's Smile: How Can One Think (In Prison)]

Whether I save her or not, I have no choice.

I looked at my master, hoping that he wouldn't be sad when that moment came.

"Hey, what do they want from you?"

I buried myself in the books and finally understood their purpose.

"Hey, did they hit you?"

I have no regrets about being able to see these rare treasures.

"Hey, you silly apprentice, they hit you, you have to hit them back!"

As the lines of text disappeared before my eyes, I felt as if I were witnessing the end of my life.

"Disciple! Did you even listen to your master?!"

"Huh?" I looked up, and Master looked at me with his round eyes: "Master?"

The master sighed regretfully, "Whatever, whatever. It's over. All the hard work of my life is gone."

I chuckled foolishly, then buried my head: Master, I'm sorry, I hope you can still live so freely even without me.

...

Although I don't like her, I still remember what she looks like. She's a woman who's not easy to forget. It's very simple to remember her: her unruly eyes, her arrogant and domineering temperament. She must have been spoiled.

She stepped on my book, disregarding other people's feelings.

She is more accustomed to being high and mighty than anyone else, and she knows better than anyone else how to enjoy life.

She doesn't look like a woman at all; no wonder she's lying in bed unable to open her eyes.

...

"That's Shen Ziyi!"

When my master said that, my first thought was: Sikong.

She is Shen Ziyi, the one who whispered among Sikong Cheng!

Next came the admiration: she actually managed to have a rumored affair with Sikong. (These are her exact words.)

That unparalleled man would gossip about someone so...so...so androgynous!

Even if Sikong was ugly, he wouldn't be so ugly that no woman from a prestigious family could marry him.

But in the past two years, apart from having some connection with her, Sikong really hasn't had any ambiguous relationships with any other woman.

Could he like her? This thought left me bewildered for a long time. Who would want a woman like that? Luckily, I didn't plan to get married, and luckily my master wouldn't really force me to marry her. But I still want to ask, is she really with the Prime Minister…?

I went out into the street to listen to their conversation. They whispered a few words and then stopped talking immediately. They didn't seem to be afraid of the power of the Sikong clan. They seemed to be more afraid of that villain who suddenly appeared.

...

After that incident, I was locked up here.

I spent three days basking in the sun at Dongqing, and the rest of the time I just watched the floor.

On days when there are no books, I write here, on the ground. After I finish writing, I read it, and after I finish reading, I write again. Nothing else matters, except for books.