Chapter 69

Serving as an official for just a month, he had already caused the people of Bianliang to grumble, and he even earned the nickname "Wall-Destroying King."

Zhao Yougong felt his achievements were quite glorious; he had made a lot of money, but he had also offended many people. The nobles on Carboxy Street, he had almost offended them all. Of course, daring to take action against Carboxy Street was because he had seen that there were no heavyweight figures there. If Gao Qiu, Cai Jing, or any of those people lived on Carboxy Street, Zhao Yougong wouldn't have dared to act this way. After all, being a spoiled son didn't mean he was really foolish; he knew who he could offend and who he couldn't. If he were truly foolish and dared to confront people like Liang Shicheng, no one would believe it.

Despite the chaos of the past month, Zhao Yougong was very cautious. He dared not show the slightest bit of attachment to power, nor did he dare to use his authority to build relationships. Even if he wanted to, no one would pay attention to him. He didn't know how many people were watching him, but if he showed even a hint of ambition or a bit of shrewdness, it would touch Emperor Zhezong's sensitive nerves.

No matter how bitter life was, he had to endure it until a good opportunity arose. In this city of Tokyo, it seemed dangerous, but it was also the safest place. At least Emperor Zhezong wouldn't dare to harm him openly.

Zhao Yougong was very clear that he had only one place to go: Tongzhou. Whenever he felt restless, he would remind himself not to act rashly. There was only one chance, and if he missed it, it would never come again.

During this time, he had been busy exploiting the people, even neglecting his martial arts practice. The handwritten notes from his master, he hadn't read much of them yet, especially the First Nine Yang Gong and the Flame Palm, which he needed to practice as soon as possible, otherwise, he would be wasting his master's efforts.

Since Zhao Yougong became the Prefect of Kaifeng, he had visited Xiefang Tower less often. Nian Nu'er wasn't angry; her young master wasn't a serious person. The reason he came less often was that he was busy making money as a new official. Holding an unnamed book, she read it very seriously. If Zhao Yougong saw the content, he would be greatly surprised, because Nian Nu'er was reading the "Youyang Zazu."

The "Youyang Zazu" recorded the cooking techniques and seasonings of the famous Tang Dynasty chef Shan Zu, and it was considered one of the more famous kitchen works of the Song Dynasty.

Nian Nu'er reading the "Youyang Zazu" was not a coincidence. She was different from other women. Perhaps other women had a deep aversion to the kitchen, as if entering it would make them seem less noble. Nian Nu'er scoffed at this. Good kitchen skills naturally added to one's confidence. Men in the world were all about the mouth and the gun; as long as she managed these two things, no man would want to leave.

Nian Nu'er read with great interest. Xiao Tan pushed the door open, her face looking a bit gloomy. Seeing Nian Nu'er so engrossed, she leaned on the table, pouting, "Sister Cui, the young prince hasn't come for a long time, aren't you worried?"

"Why should I be worried?"

Nian Nu'er closed the book and smiled, asking in return. Xiao Tan wrinkled her nose and pouted, "Sister Cui, haven't you heard? Some people are saying the young prince is fickle!"

Some people? Probably those sisters like Cui Ying'er, or perhaps Wu Mama was behind the scenes stirring things up. After all, she wasn't the top courtesan anymore, but she still enjoyed the treatment of a top courtesan. She could read and write every day without having to entertain guests, which was even better than being the top courtesan. It was unrealistic to think she wouldn't be envied.

"You little girl, don't bother me with such trivial matters in the future!" Nian Nu'er smiled, showing no worry. She was confident that within ten years, the young prince wouldn't escape her grasp. She had many ways to charm men.

Seeing Nian Nu'er like this, Xiao Tan could only pout. She then raised her sleeve and felt around, pulling out a piece of paper.

Nian Nu'er was very curious, turning her head slightly and squinting, "Little girl, what do you have in your hand? Do you have a lover?"

"Hey, Sister Cui, you're so naughty, this is for you!"

"For me?" Nian Nu'er took the folded paper, opened it, and read it, then smiled. It was a note from Li Shishi, inviting her to meet at Xiangguo Temple and burn some incense.

Nian Nu'er didn't believe in gods or Buddhas, but there was no harm in going to pray.

"Sister Cui, you don't know how arrogant that girl was just now!"

The "girl" Xiao Tan was talking about was Xuan'er. Li Shishi and Nian Nu'er were rivals, and their maids didn't get along either.

Another night, Zhao Yougong secretly left the prince's mansion. In the locust forest, Dugu Qiubai sat on a tree branch drinking wine. Seeing Zhao Yougong come, he didn't change his expression, just waved and threw the wine bag over.

Zhao Yougong caught the wine bag, took a sip, and leaned against the tree, asking, "Brother Dugu, did you find anything?"

Since taking over Kaifeng, Zhao Yougong had sensed something different. Previously, Emperor Zhezong and others weren't so devious, so he thought there must be someone behind Zhezong. He asked Dugu Qiubai to investigate.

Dugu Qiubai jumped down from the tree, grabbed the wine bag, and said in his usual sarcastic tone, "Gong Jie!"

"Anything else?"

"Mo Jia Fanggushan!"

Gong Jie, Mo Jia Fanggushan, who was this person? He would have to fight this Gong Jie in the future, so he needed to learn more about him. Frowning, he finally spoke, "Brother Dugu, you should ask Wang Yuyan to write a letter home, otherwise, Murong Fu and Mantuo Manor will kill Qiao Feng!"

"What does it have to do with us?"

Dugu Qiubai was always like this; he didn't care about things that didn't concern him. Whether you called him cold-blooded or reclusive, Dugu Qiubai lived a carefree life.

"It doesn't have much to do with us, but doesn't Brother Dugu think that if Qiao Feng dies, you'll lose a good opponent?"

This hit Dugu Qiubai's sore spot. According to Zhao Yougong, he hadn't won against Qiao Feng in the last match. If Qiao Feng died, he would never have the chance to win. Narrowing his eyes, Dugu Qiubai glanced at Zhao Yougong meaningfully, "You've become smarter!"

Hearing this, Zhao Yougong's eyes widened, almost bursting out in anger. It was too insulting, did he think Zhao Yougong was stupid before?

He wanted to curse, but Dugu Qiubai was already gone. Helpless, he spat on the ground and decided to make a straw man at home, writing "Dugu Qiubai" on it, and then he would kill it however he wanted.

Although it was only early July, the weather in Bianliang was already hot. Zhao Yougong, who wasn't good at enduring hardship, hid in the back hall of the government office, drinking tea. He threw his official hat on the table, put his legs on the edge of the table, and hummed a tune while swinging his legs.

Normally, the Prefect of Kaifeng had many things to do, but Zhao Yougong, the young prince, was a good delegator. He pushed small cases to Gong Sun Kang. Gong Sun Kang had no choice but to take on the responsibility, but fortunately, they were all trivial matters, so there were no major problems.

"Hmph, what a Prefect of Kaifeng! In our great Song Dynasty, you are the most idle!"

The voice was angry but also laughing. Zhao Yougong knew who it was without turning around.

"Sister Fourth, it's so hot, why are you still going out? Afraid of getting sunburned?"

Zhao Fugong was still dressed as a man, holding a fan, with a blue sash and a turban, looking much more refined than Zhao Yougong. Sitting in another chair, Zhao Fugong propped her chin on her hand and asked with a smile, "Brother Ling, do you know about the Zhi Shui Poetry Gathering?"

"Cough, cough... the poetry gathering, of course, I know. But to write poetry, I need to think for a while!" Putting his legs on the ground, Zhao Yougong straightened up, ready to recite a poem.

Zhao Fugong knew her brother's abilities well. If he wrote poetry, it would be the kind of doggerel that circulated in the market, not something that could be taken seriously. So she pouted and quickly stopped him, "Brother Ling, don't torture your little sister. Your poetry is too scary, better not to say it. Tomorrow is the Zhi Shui Poetry Gathering, I want to go see it!"

"Go if you want, do you want me to accompany you?"

Zhao Yougong was afraid Zhao Fugong would nod, because he hated being with those self-proclaimed refined people. They spouted flowery words, but it was all about the wind and the moon. If he went, he would just be a target for ridicule.

Sometimes, what you fear comes true. Zhao Fugong nodded vigorously and said firmly, "Don't refuse, or I'll make you sit in court!"

"… Sister Fourth, you've learned to threaten people!"

Zhao Fugong smiled innocently, looking up proudly, "I learned from Brother Ling!"

"Fine, come early tomorrow, I'll accompany you, but let's agree, you can do as you please, but don't force me to sit there and recite poetry. I despise those pretentious literati the most!"

Zhao Yougong spoke righteously, but Zhao Fugong didn't take it seriously. Brother Ling was like this because he was uneducated and afraid of being embarrassed.

After chatting for a while, Zhao Fugong couldn't stay any longer and dragged Zhao Yougong out.

Changing clothes, the two siblings became two brothers, walking through the bustling streets of Bianliang, both handsome and elegant.

Zhao Fugong rarely left the palace, so every time she came to the market, she found it very novel. Fortunately, she no longer bought everything she saw; she just wanted to enjoy the bustle. Zhao Yougong tried his best to satisfy her requests, and in some ways, he and Zhao Fugong had many similarities. One wanted to escape the palace, the other wanted to escape the capital, but their goals were different.

South of the Moon Arch Bridge, there were many street performers, and of course, there were beggars.

Begging has always been an art, and many people came up with all sorts of creative ideas to beg.

Under the Moon Arch Bridge, by the Bian River, there was a dilapidated straw mat, and on it lay a twelve- or thirteen-year-old girl. The girl was very thin, her clothes barely covering her body. Her belly was slightly swollen, and her face was pale as paper. A man knelt in front of the mat, crying, with a piece of paper under his knees, on which many words were written.

The man's pitiful cries moved most passersby, including Zhao Fugong. Searching her pockets, she found no money, so she forcefully took Zhao Yougong's money bag.

Zhao Fugong, who had been in the palace for a long time, didn't know how important money was. Moved by compassion, she threw the entire money bag into the broken pot.

The man's eyes lit up, and he kowtowed in gratitude. However, Zhao Yougong, who had been silent, did something that left everyone speechless.