Chapter 75

Chapter 76: Unexpected

Truly worthy of his past as a soldier, Zhao Cheng's 'position' was well chosen. It faced the main gate of the imperial city, and about a hundred steps north of the gate, there was a cross gate where the chancellors and vice-chancellors dismounted to enter their offices. Others who worked here included the censors from the Censorate, but they had to walk further back to the Wende Hall after dismounting. There was a side gate to the east of the Donglang Grand Hall, where the Secretariat, the Menxia Rear Province, and the Institute of National History were located. In front of the hall, there were east-west streets. To the east was the Donghua Gate, and to the west, the Xihua Gate. Beyond these gates was the inner palace, where officials like the chief secretaries, imperial pharmacists, chief secretaries, imperial pharmacists, tent attendants, fast runners, close attendants, sedan bearers, and various inner palace soldiers waited for their summons. This area was the main thoroughfare for all central government offices, where everyone, inside and out, could see him. Anyone who wanted to attend court or go to work had to pass by him, making it the perfect place for grievances and appeals.

A few morticians' assistants, while keeping an eye on the palace, quickly set up a mourning tent in front of the Xuande Tower. It was their first time setting up a tent here, and they were naturally nervous, fearing that someone might rush out and cut them down. However, as the old saying goes, "People die for wealth, birds die for food." These people of unknown origin offered a high price, enough to sustain them for a year, so they were willing to take the risk!

Zhao Cheng, with his buttocks sticking out, was crouched on the ground, a white cloth spread beneath him. He held a large brush, writing the funeral couplets. He had forgotten to bring someone literate, and the people with him were only good at fighting, not writing. Although he hadn't officially entered school, he was the most educated among them. After much deliberation, he finally remembered a couplet. With a flourish of the brush, large characters about a foot square appeared on the cloth. After finishing the last stroke, the assistants quickly hung it up. The top couplet read, "Unforgettable Virtue, Eternal Gratitude," and the bottom couplet, "Spring's Grace Unrepaid, Winter's Snow Adds Sorrow." The horizontal inscription was "Fragrance for a Thousand Years."

"Tsk, tsk, this child is young, but his writing is truly unique!" One of the assistants, who had seen many such scenes, couldn't help but praise the writing on the couplet.

"Hmph, you damn fools, you know good stuff when you see it. My imitation Song style isn't as good as our political commissar's, but it's second-best in the farm. As for the inventor of this font, Qin Hui, he's probably still reading somewhere, preparing to take the imperial exams!" Zhao Cheng glanced at them and thought to himself. The People's Liberation Army was both a fighting force and a propaganda team, enjoying writing wherever they went. His large characters were practiced during that time, but they looked good from a distance and couldn't be examined closely. Today, he had no choice but to show his skills, regardless of being laughed at.

"Still waiting for the show? Take the money and leave quickly, or you'll lose your heads!" Xue Bao threw a few banknotes to the assistants.

"Gentlemen, we can set up funeral objects, wail, and carry the coffin. Just let us know if you need us!" These guys were truly capable, offering a one-stop service like in modern times. Seeing the generous payment, they immediately started soliciting more business. However, when Zhao Cheng placed the spirit tablet, they saw it clearly read, "The Spirit of Empress Jinghe of the Great Song." Arranging a funeral for an empress was too big a job for them, and they immediately shut up and ran away!

The commotion at the palace gate had already alarmed the guards. Initially, they didn't know what was happening and were just watching, but once the mourning tent was set up, they understood. They wanted to hold a funeral here, which was unacceptable. They immediately reported to their duty leader. It was a critical time, with the empress's passing, and someone daring to cause trouble at the palace gate. The duty commander, not daring to be negligent, immediately ordered a captain to bring men to arrest them.

"Stop, no further!" A few steps away, a large man blocked the captain.

"Hey!" The captain's nose almost turned sideways with anger. The man was even more aggressive, waving his hand to have his soldiers prepare to arrest them.

"Mother, how could you leave me behind? Now even the dogs in front of our house dare to bite me. Mother, take me with you, so I don't get bullied!" The captain was startled. The man was aggressive, and the child wasn't bad either, daring to call them dogs. Who didn't know they were the emperor's guards? The captain, a cautious person, had a thought and circled around to the spirit tablet. He couldn't help but gasp. They were mourning the empress here. If he called the empress 'mother,' could he be the empress's illegitimate son?

"Brother, who is this child?" The captain, thinking about the royal 'secrets,' asked Pan Long, who was blocking their way.

"Get lost, this is the noble Second Prince, the Prince of Yuncheng, and you can't just call a child like that!" Pan Long, seeing the prince crying bitterly, was in a bad mood and pushed the captain away, scolding him.

"Ah?!" Everyone was stunned. A prince mourning the empress was legitimate. Fortunately, they hadn't acted, or they would have been the ones in trouble. If the prince wanted to cry, he could cry wherever he wanted. It wasn't their place to interfere. They quickly reported the matter and retreated into the palace gate, secretly watching from inside.

The captain reported to the commander, who, upon hearing the news, also didn't dare to make a decision and immediately reported to the chief eunuch of the Inner Service, Yang Jian. This was the emperor's family matter, and he was the one in charge. "What, he hasn't left and is setting up a mourning tent at the palace gate!?" Yang Jian, upon hearing this, felt a headache. Was this child born to Consort Zheng? Why was he so stubborn, like Empress Wang?

"Chief, what should we do? Prince Yuncheng is causing a commotion at the gate. Once the grand ceremony ends, all the officials will know. We can't hide it. You need to make a decision!" The messenger, a trusted eunuch, said with concern.

"What can they do if they know? The key is how to explain it to the emperor?" Yang Jian, with years of leadership experience, immediately grasped the crux of the matter. "Go and invite Liang Shicheng here. Tell him I have something to discuss with him!" He thought for a moment and instructed.

Liang Shicheng was quickly invited. The two men whispered in the room for a while, then came out holding hands, smiling as if nothing had happened, and went to attend the grand funeral ceremony. The emperor was already troubled and needed their company. The messenger ran to the palace gate and told the soldiers, "Without the emperor's command, they are not allowed to enter the palace!"

"It's the first hour of the dog!" At this moment, the timekeeper in the clock tower announced the time in a long, drawn-out voice. Immediately, mournful music played, not the modern funeral march, but something Zhao Cheng couldn't understand, just a sad tune that made one want to cry. The grand funeral involved sealing the coffin and nailing it shut, the last farewell. According to tradition, the family should mourn loudly by the coffin. Instantly, the entire palace was filled with cries, real or fake, loud or soft, male or female, all wailing and sobbing.

"Mother, I couldn't serve you in your last days, and I couldn't see you one last time. I am an unfilial son!" Zhao Cheng, banging his head on the ground, cried out loud, looking heartbroken. "Empress, I have never met you, have no feelings for you, and have never spoken to you. You didn't even say a good word for me when I was expelled from the palace. Now I am crying for you so hard. You must protect me and not let your son cause me trouble." He cried while communicating with Empress Wang in the afterlife, making a deal.

The elaborate ceremony ended, and it was nearly noon. Zhao Cheng's voice was hoarse from crying. Jixi and the guards, wiping their tears, comforted him, and the soldiers hiding in the gatehouse were also moved by his filial piety.

At this moment, the palace gate opened again, and people began to come out. Those in the hall were all fifth-rank officials and above, while the lesser officials had to wait outside in the cold. Now that the ceremony was over, the emperor didn't provide food, so they were all preparing to go home. Upon seeing the mourning tent at the gate, they learned that Prince Yuncheng had been crying for a while. They felt a sense of balance, thinking that even though they were low-ranking, they could still cry in the palace, which was better than the prince's treatment. Upon further inquiry, they felt uncomfortable. Everyone knew a bit about Prince Yuncheng's expulsion, but now that the empress had died, the prince had returned to mourn, and they wouldn't even let him in the gate. This seemed unfair, and they began to discuss it among themselves.

Zhao Cheng was furious. Just now, when he was crying his heart out, none of them came out. Now that he was tired, they were surrounding him. Fine, he would continue crying. So, Zhao Cheng changed from sobbing to wailing, recounting the deep mother-son bond and his inability to serve his mother in her last days. People soon learned that it was Yang Jian who had blocked the prince at the gate. They immediately lost their enthusiasm and left, not daring to say a word.

"Damn, you have no sense of justice left. It looks like the Song Dynasty is truly finished!" Watching people leave one by one, Zhao Cheng sighed. He had not anticipated the state of the officials' hearts. He was exhausted, partly from fatigue and partly from disappointment in the officials.

"Your Highness, take a rest!" Jixi, seeing the prince's condition, said with concern.

"Um, has the message been delivered to the empress?" Zhao Cheng stood up, lit another incense stick, and asked softly.

"I have found someone familiar to deliver the message. The Consort should have received it!" Jixi replied softly.

"Emperor, why didn't you allow Cheng'er to return to the capital to mourn?" In the rear hall, Zheng Hongmei, having just sat down, learned that her son had been blocked at the palace gate and asked, suppressing her anger.

"What, Cheng'er didn't return?" Emperor Zhezong was surprised, as if he found it very unexpected.

"How could the emperor not know? He submitted two memorials requesting to return to the capital to mourn but received no imperial decree. Today is the day of the grand funeral, and he was eager to see the empress one last time. He rushed to the capital but was blocked at the gate and not allowed to enter the palace to mourn!" Zheng Hongmei, though surprised, felt even more desolate. Her son's return or non-return was unknown to his father, indicating that he had forgotten about this son.