RPAGF Chapter 9 Inside and outside the hall, ice and fire intertwine.
Chapter 9 Inside and outside the hall, ice and fire intertwine.
The carriage was deathly silent.
Yang Yong leaned against the corner, his face pale and his hands still trembling slightly.
Yang Yan sat opposite him, his back ramrod straight, his eyes as cold as ice.
"Father."
Yang Yan's voice broke the silence.
"When you arrive at the Daxing Palace, answer whatever your Imperial Grandfather asks."
"But remember, only talk about the fire, and only say that you were disheveled because you were frightened and directing the firefighting efforts."
"You are not allowed to mention a single word about that dress, how much you drank, or what you said!"
Yang Yan leaned forward slightly, speaking slowly and deliberately, his voice not loud, but each word struck Yang Yong's heart.
"If you still want to keep your position as Crown Prince, and if you still want to save the lives of hundreds of people in the Eastern Palace, you'd better think it over!"
"I can save you once, but I can't save you a second time!"
Yang Yong suddenly looked up at the unfamiliar son in front of him.
He opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single word.
The carriage slowly came to a stop.
The faint clanging of the armor of the Imperial Guards could be heard outside: "Your Highness, we have arrived at Daxing Palace."
The Daxing Hall, the hall that represented the highest power of the Sui Dynasty, was not brightly lit at this moment.
The interior of the hall appeared somewhat dark and deep.
Only in one corner of the imperial desk, several ancient-style bronze crane-shaped candle lamps burned quietly.
The flickering lamplight cast an almost ethereal glow on the figure behind the large sandalwood desk.
Yang Yan followed behind his father, Yang Yong, with his head down, carefully stepping over the high threshold.
He could smell the faint scent of ambergris in the air, as well as the invisible, almost crushing imperial authority that seemed to shatter one's bones.
Emperor Wen of Sui, Yang Jian, was dressed in a reddish-brown, narrow-sleeved casual robe and did not wear a crown.
Her gray hair was simply tied up with a jade hairpin.
He sat upright behind his desk, his vermilion brush never stopping, engrossed in the mountain of memorials.
A woman sat on the couch beside him.
She was dressed in a magnificent ceremonial robe and wore a crown with nine dragons and four phoenixes, the pearls and jade on the crown gleaming warmly in the dim light.
It was Empress Wenxian, Dugu Jialuo.
She held a book in her hands, reading quietly with an elegant posture, as if everything in the outside world was irrelevant to her.
"Your subject Yang Yong greets Your Majesty and Your Majesty."
Yang Yong was still under the influence of alcohol and harbored a guilty conscience.
His knees buckled, and he fell to his knees with a thud.
Even the act of kowtowing was accompanied by a noticeable swaying motion, with his forehead striking the gold brick with a dull thud.
Yang Yan followed closely behind, his movements precise and without the slightest mistake.
"Grandson Yang Yan pays respects to the Emperor's grandfather and grandmother."
Yang Jian did not stop writing with his vermilion brush, nor did he even look up.
This kind of disregard is more unsettling than thunderous rage.
On the contrary, Dugu Jialuo slowly put down the book in her hand.
Her well-maintained phoenix eyes darted around under the lamplight, calmly surveying the father and son kneeling on the ground.
His gaze lingered for a moment on Yang Yong's swollen face, and his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Then, it fell on Yang Yan.
The boy stood upright, dressed neatly, but looked tired.
But those eyes...
Dugu Jialuo's heart stirred slightly.
Those eyes no longer held the timidity and avoidance of the past.
Instead, there is a sense of clarity and composure.
Even before the unpredictable wrath of the emperor, there was not the slightest panic.
This child seems like a completely different person.
"Smack."
A crisp sound.
Yang Jian finally threw the vermilion brush in his hand onto the table.
He slowly raised his head.
In that instant, Yang Yan felt an immense pressure bearing down on him.
Those were a pair of aged yet still sharp eyes, churning with a fury powerful enough to devour everything.
Yang Jian stared intently at the father and son on the ground, his tone as cold as ice.
"presumptuous!"
The low shout echoed throughout the hall.
"The Eastern Palace is on fire, disturbing the Forbidden Garden! Yang Yong, as the Crown Prince, you have failed in your duties, drinking heavily late at night and behaving inappropriately!"
"Look at yourself now, you're a complete mess! Do you have even the slightest bit of the demeanor of a crown prince?!"
Yang Jian slammed his hand on the imperial desk, causing the memorials on it to jump.
"Yang Yan!"
Yang Yan's heart tightened, and he immediately bowed his head, saying, "Your grandson is here."
"As the eldest grandson of the imperial family, instead of admonishing your father, you indulge him in his misbehavior in the palace!"
"Yang Yue just reported that you were still shouting and yelling in the Eastern Palace, ordering the servants to seal the doors and windows?"
"What do you want to do? Are you trying to rebel?!"
What a huge hat!
Yang Yan sneered inwardly, but said aloud with feigned fear, "Your grandson is terrified!"
"I was just afraid the fire would spread, and even more afraid that news of my father's disrespect would spread and damage the royal family's reputation, so..."
"That's enough!"
Yang Jian didn't want to hear any explanation at all.
His mind is now filled with the words "collapse of trust" and "mergers and acquisitions by powerful figures" from that exam paper.
Then I saw the good-for-nothing crown prince and the eldest grandson who seemed to have had someone else write for him.
He couldn't suppress the nameless anger in his heart.
He pointed to the palace gates and shouted sternly, "Get out of here, all of you!"
"Kneel down in the square outside the Daxing Hall! Reflect on your actions!"
"No one is to rise without my decree!"
"Father..."
Yang Yong was so frightened that he sobered up considerably and still wanted to beg for mercy.
But then he suddenly remembered the burned dragon robe, and the words caught in his throat.
He didn't know what to say.
Two burly guards stepped forward, one on each side, and half-supported, half-dragged him out.
Yang Yan did not beg for mercy.
There was no explanation.
He silently kowtowed, stood up, turned around, and followed them out.
The night wind carried a chill and blew against my body.
The father and son knelt side by side in the empty square in front of the palace, their backs to the majestic palace.
The cold, hard flagstones, penetrating the thin fabric of my clothes, stung my knees.
Yang Yan straightened his back.
He knew that this was only the first test.
Yang Jian made him kneel to test his character and temper his will.
Inside the Daxing Hall, in the warm pavilion.
Yang Jian's anger did not subside. He paced back and forth behind his desk like a trapped beast.
Dugu Jialuo ignored him.
She reached out her well-maintained hand and unfolded the examination paper that Yang Jian had crumpled, smoothing it out carefully.
Her fingertips gently caressed the slightly rough hemp paper, as if she were touching a rare treasure.
"Your Majesty, though the words on this exam paper are harsh to hear, they are like bitter medicine."
Dugu Jialuo's voice was soft, yet it broke the deathly silence in the hall.
"He not only pointed out the root cause of the 'collapse of trust', but also offered a prescription for 'reconstructing contracts'."
"This insight is something that even seasoned officials who have been immersed in officialdom for decades may not possess."
"snort!"
Yang Jian let out a heavy, cold snort, his voice filled with embarrassment and anger.
He raised his hand and slammed it hard on the imperial desk, causing the purple-tipped brush on the brush holder to tremble violently.
"You also say you've hit the nail on the head? That's precisely what I'm suspicious of!"
Yang Jian suddenly stood up and paced anxiously back and forth in front of the dragon throne, which symbolized supreme power.
"How old is Yang Yan this year? Sixteen!"
"A concubine's son, raised deep within the palace, who has never seen the world!"
Yang Jian stopped and pointed outside the palace with a sinister look in his eyes.
"How could he, confined to the Eastern Palace, possess such shrewd political insight?"
"Where would they know what 'hidden household registration' or 'the cost of governance' are?"
At this point, a murderous glint flashed in Yang Jian's eyes, an instinct honed through years of political struggle.
"Tell me, is it possible that Yang Yong, that good-for-nothing, secretly hired some reclusive strategist to do his dirty work in order to reverse his declining fortunes?"
"Is he trying to use this sensational article to show me that he is not mediocre, and to win my sympathy and change my opinion of him?"
Yang Jian's voice was very low, yet it carried a chilling, sinister quality.
"Has he been faking it all these years?!"