Chapter 186: The Storm Approaches
Chapter 186: The Storm Approaches
Zhu Houzhao and Fang Jifan arrived at the foot of the High Altar.
They heard Li Chaowen wailing uncontrollably, showing no dignity of a cultivator at all.
Fang Jifan rolled his eyes, stepped forward, and kicked him. His clear eyes glared angrily as he scolded.
“No backbone at all! Shameful, and you call yourself my martial nephew!”
Li Chaowen immediately stopped crying. He took a deep breath, seeming to realize that, given the situation today, death was inevitable either way.
He sobbed and looked up at the sky. The sun was still blazing hot and fierce.
How could there be rain on a day like this!
He would probably die…
Li Chaowen stood up, looking lost and hopeless. But by now, he seemed to understand that he had to take a chance.
Finally, at Fang Jifan’s signal, an Imperial Guard behind him untied his bonds. The Eunuchs quickly changed him into his ritual robes and gave him a peachwood sword.
A kind-hearted Imperial Guard officer sympathetically patted his shoulder and softly comforted him, “Don’t be afraid. The gods above will protect…”
Li Chaowen gave the guard a grateful look.
Fang Jifan had sharp ears and felt irritated. The Crown Prince’s organizational skills were poor. It was almost time, and there were still so many mistakes. He looked at the guard comforting Li Chaowen and coldly asked, “You… what is your name?”
The guard reluctantly said, “This humble one is Xiao Jingteng.”
Fang Jifan was amused. “That’s a good name! Auspicious and lucky. Xiao Jingteng, I admire you. Come, come, tie him up and hang him below the altar. If he fails to bring rain, burn him as a sacrifice to the heavens.”
“Ah…” Xiao Jingteng nearly fainted upon hearing this. He trembled and begged for mercy, “I have an eighty-year-old mother above, and below…”
Fang Jifan grew angry, his face cold as he ordered, “Hang him up!”
Everyone around gasped in shock.
Fang Jifan crossed his arms and remained silent, appearing utterly unforgiving.
But deep down, Fang Jifan knew this was necessary!
This was an insurance plan Fang Jifan had thought of. Xiao Jingteng was an Imperial Guard military officer. If they truly failed to bring rain, the Crown Prince would be furious and would surely burn Li Chaowen. But if an Imperial Guard officer was also hanging from the High Altar, it would be different. The Imperial Guards receiving the order would definitely try their best to plead for mercy.
They couldn’t actually burn someone just because they failed to bring rain.
Fang Jifan had professional ethics. After all, who said Fang Jifan always stood on the side of justice and never bullied the weak?
Xiao Jingteng wailed loudly, shouting for mercy, but reluctantly, his fellow guards, wearing troubled expressions, hung him up.
Fang Jifan then motioned with his lips toward Li Chaowen, a smile on his face as he reminded him.
“Martial Nephew, hurry up and ascend the altar. It’s getting late. Believe your Martial Uncle, you will surely bring rain!”
Fang Jifan remembered that the recorded time for the rain was around noon, but exactly which part of noon, he didn’t know.
By now, Li Chaowen had stopped crying, but his whole person lacked any spirit. He hung his head low and began climbing the altar. Stumbling, he stood upon the High Altar. Then, his eyes went wide, and he nearly fainted.
The wind on the High Altar was strong, billowing his ritual robes. He was so scared he wet himself—he was afraid of heights.
Looking down, he saw a sea of people below. Gazing into the distance, beyond the high walls of the Eastern Palace, there were also countless streams of people.
Li Chaowen’s face turned sallow, his legs trembled, and then he began to wail loudly.
The High Altar was indeed high. Because it was so tall and the wind was strong up there, the sound of his loud wailing was unclear to those below, who thought he was chanting scriptures.
Fang Jifan lifted his chin and said to Zhu Houzhao, “Your Highness, look at my martial nephew. Doesn’t he have the style of a living immortal?”
Zhu Houzhao glanced at the sky, staring at the clear, cloudless expanse, and said worriedly, “It still doesn’t look like it will rain.”
“Have confidence.” Fang Jifan pretended to be confident and in control, uh… though he actually felt uneasy inside.
Over two months of drought had already made people restless.
Things were manageable in the city, but the farmers outside the city had already lost their harvests, worrying about how they would survive the year-end on empty stomachs.
Looking at the cracked earth, sometimes fights over a single water source could involve hundreds of people, and it wasn’t uncommon for seven or eight young men to die in one incident.
People were like this: once they despaired, they naturally felt the imperial court and the officials were to blame.
Outside the Eastern Palace, many people watched this spectacle with a mocking attitude.
The rumors were still spreading wildly through countless mouths: “The Emperor has lost his virtue. The Crown Prince is absurd and fooling around. If Heaven truly had pity, why would this drought last over two months without a single drop of rain?”
“When a nation is about to fall, there will be monsters and evils.”
…
Fang Jifan’s five disciples had also arrived early. They couldn’t enter the Eastern Palace but watched the towering High Altar within its walls from a distant street.
The person on the High Altar was, of course, unclear, just a black dot.
At this moment, Tang Yin and the others heard countless rumors and gossip around them. Each of them felt very uncomfortable in their hearts.
If the rain didn’t come, how would the people of the world view the Crown Prince?
They stood still, unmoving, their expressions stiff, brows deeply furrowed.
Then, unnoticed, another person appeared beside them.
Wang Shouren had become much thinner. Hearing the commotion, he had also come. Seeing Ouyang Zhi and the other four, he unconsciously stood with them.
In the noisy environment, Tang Yin noticed Wang Shouren and nodded to him. Wang Shouren forced a faint smile in return.
They didn’t believe in gods or ghosts, so naturally, they didn’t believe in so-called rain prayers.
They came here, each carrying heavy worries.
…
They saw Li Chaowen performing his ‘rituals’ on the High Altar.
It was already noon.
The sun was still scorching. He was drenched in sweat. By now, his tears had dried up, and even his sweat seemed to have evaporated completely.
Li Chaowen felt weak all over, as if he were completely drained.
Below the altar, Fang Jifan waited nervously.
Zhu Houzhao seemed especially anxious and restless. He rubbed his hands together, looking worried.
In the distance, Yang Tinghe and Wang Hua glared over, wishing they could tear Fang Jifan apart and devour him raw.
Seeing that the time was almost right, Fang Jifan suddenly tugged at Zhu Houzhao’s sleeve.
“What is it?” Zhu Houzhao looked at Fang Jifan in surprise.
Fang Jifan whispered, “Your Highness should cry.”
“Why should I cry?” Zhu Houzhao was confused, his handsome face showing incomprehension.
Fang Jifan grinned and slowly explained to Zhu Houzhao, “Your Highness loves the people like his own children. Now, under this blazing sun, Heaven refuses to send rain. As the Crown Prince, cherishing all living beings, shouldn’t you cry?”
“But This Palace can’t cry.” Zhu Houzhao thought it made sense; he should cry a bit to show his love for the people.
But crying wasn’t as simple as drinking water!
Fang Jifan was exasperated with him. Where was the acting skills he usually showed in front of his Imperial Father?
Clearly, the essence of this rain prayer wasn’t to showcase Li Chaowen, but rather the Crown Prince.
There were so many rumors and malicious slanders outside, all targeting the Emperor and the Crown Prince. The ancients valued intention over action—this was called idealism.
What did that mean? If you prayed for rain, others would think you were absurd.
But if you said you didn’t believe in gods and ghosts but were doing this out of love for the people… that was a different matter. This was loving the people as one’s own children, being a model of virtue.
He was his own brother. If he didn’t give Zhu Houzhao a chance to perform, then who should?
The credit for this rain prayer couldn’t go to Li Chaowen, nor could it go to Fang Jifan. The only one who could take credit was the current Crown Prince.
Fang Jifan looked seriously at Zhu Houzhao. “Then, Your Highness, think about it: if His Majesty were here now, and if the rain didn’t come, what would be Your Highness’s outcome? Your Highness, think about how His Majesty usually treats you like a child. Think about Your Highness’s own grand ambitions, the hope that one day others would see you in a new light. Your Highness, your servant has long prepared something for you.”
As he spoke, he secretly slipped a small note into Zhu Houzhao’s palm.
Zhu Houzhao felt the warmth of the note. Clearly, Fang Jifan had prepared it long ago and kept it warm in his hand.
“Old Fang…” Zhu Houzhao’s eyes reddened slightly. “You’re the one who understands me.”
Quickly, while Fang Jifan used his body to block the view, Zhu Houzhao took the note and looked at it. The content was simple. Obviously, Fang Jifan had considered his not-so-high cultural level.
Then, Zhu Houzhao stuffed the note into his mouth, and his eyes reddened again.
He began pounding his chest, roaring, “Heavens!”
No one could see how Li Chaowen was performing his rituals on the High Altar.
But this shout of “Heavens!” attracted everyone’s attention.
Yang Tinghe, Wang Hua, and countless officials from the House of the Crown Prince all turned to watch the scene unfold.
The Crown Prince’s tears were already pouring forth.
He had the innate potential to be nominated for an Oscar.
He continued pounding his chest, making loud thumping sounds.
“Do not stop This Palace!”
He shouted loudly.
Fang Jifan, without hesitation, grabbed Zhu Houzhao tightly, crying out with all his heart to dissuade him, “Crown Prince, do not be impulsive!”
Zhu Houzhao’s tear-filled eyes were blurred. He screamed hysterically, “Heaven is not benevolent, it treats all things as straw dogs. Now, for over two months, there has been no harvest. The disaster is this severe. This Palace, as the Crown Prince, above, cannot share His Majesty’s worries; below, cannot understand the people’s suffering. If we fail to pray for rain today, This Palace… might as well die, to be clean of it all. Fang Jifan, do not stop This Palace! This Palace will die… die… die…”
The word “die” dragged on for five syllables, the final note lingering, unwilling to disperse.
“Your Highness…” Fang Jifan held Zhu Houzhao tightly. “Your Highness, do not be impulsive, do not be impulsive! Whatever you have to say, say it calmly!”
Zhu Houzhao was like a wild bull. Fang Jifan was nearly thrown off several times. But if he really got thrown off, the act would be ruined. Could he possibly ask Zhu Houzhao to wait, let Fang Jifan grab him again, and then continue seeking death?
Fang Jifan also used all his strength to hold Zhu Houzhao tight, silently cursing inside, “This is just too serious!”