328: Chapter 210 Qingcang is Dying 328: Chapter 210 Qingcang is Dying Xia Dynasty, year three.
The realm had finally settled down and, with the help of Spirit Valley, it had already shown signs of a prosperous era.
The Imperial Palace had also finally received basic repairs; the collapsed walls and palaces had been swept away, replaced by open grounds.
In Jiang Fugui’s view, most of the palaces were an unnecessary waste since their maintenance required a vast amount of silver tael each year.
The cost of rebuilding one palace could cover the construction of a road spanning hundreds of miles and dozens of water conservancy projects.
Moreover, continual maintenance each year would necessitate tens of thousands of silver tael—in total, keeping the original size of the palace would require at least several million tael a year.
And that was just the basic cost; the actual total would be even more.
About this, the ascended Jiang family had quite an opinion, and the Empress had complained more than once about refurbishing the palaces.
The ministers below had also invariably advised the Emperor to build a few palaces.
In a side palace, a small bridge ran over flowing water, and a pavilion with a furnace to warm wine was set up.
Jiang Fugui and Gu Wen were drinking, the forr incessantly complaining, “That woman knows nothing about household matters; keep up her clamor for a few more days and I’ll depose her.
And as for Jucai, after all these years he still hasn’t grasped any interpersonal skills.
As the Crown Prince, he ought to secretly et with and befriend so ministers.”
“It’s only because I, his father, have no interest in this position; otherwise, he would have died many tis over.”
Gu Wen indifferently said, “The world is but a makeshift stage; you think everyone is a dragon, but in reality, most are re insects.
Not everyone excels at everything; Jucai is a general, but clearly not fit to be a monarch.”
“Have you ever thought about spiritual practice, Fugui?”
Gu Wen suddenly asked, observing the white hair of his old friend.
Jiang Fugui was already of an age to know his destiny, and coupled with the living conditions of ancient tis, he looked like a man in his sixties.
“I have.
Naturally, I have.
Who wouldn’t want to live a little longer?”
He nodded without hesitation, though his eyes lacked much desire.
“If you could…
Fugui, you see clearer than many.” Gu Wen complinted, then poured him another cup, saying, “Spiritual practice requires severing worldly ties; you’d have to abandon power and status, even your wife and children.”
“Drink this cup, and in a year you will feign death and free yourself.”
In otherworldly practices, going to the mountains also often requires cutting off worldly attachnts.
According to Master Qingcang, severing worldly ties not only facilitates spiritual practice but also prevents disciples from interfering in worldly power dynamics through their sect influence.
Even the worst aristocratic families are better off than a humble farr suddenly taking up the position of City Lord because of a genius disciple.
Gu Wen greatly agreed with this.
And Jiang Fugui needed to cut off worldly ties precisely because he was heading for the Immortal Land.
It wasn’t possible for him to send dozens to hundreds of Jiang family mbers there, and neither would he do so.
“…”
Upon hearing this, Jiang Fugui fell silent.
Gu Wen said, “Weren’t you just incessantly complaining?
Seize this opportunity to escape and enjoy a few hundred years of tranquil days.”
“…”
“Are you not speaking?
In that case, I will decide for you; drink it.”
Gu Wen picked up the cup and brought it to Jiang Fugui’s mouth.
His trembling lips slowly parted and the liquid imbued with spiritual energy slid down his throat.
Jiang Fugui was just a regular person; he wanted the benefits of spiritual practices but couldn’t let go of familial ties.
In a mont of dilemma, soone needed to push him, and Gu Wen, unlike him, made a straightforward choice.
As for the other Jiang family mbers—let them die; they weren’t his children.
After drinking the warm wine, Jiang Fugui beca much calr, and the two continued to warm wine and brew tea, tacitly avoiding the previous topic.
Over the next year, Jiang Fugui never spoke a word outside, as if it had never happened.
In the fourth year of the Daxia, Jiang Fugui quietly died in his sleep, and according to his will, his temple na was Taizong.
Because he wasn’t the first to sit on the Dragon Throne, nor was he the founder of the Daxia.
Subsequently, Jiang Jucai succeeded the throne, and the palace started to be refurbished,slowly becoming grand and magnificent.
Only the secluded Imperial Garden remained a stretch of farmland.
That night.
A figure in white robes, elegant and graceful Hee Huan arrived, followed by a dozen won of varying appearances, all exceptionally beautiful without exception.
“Brother Gu, long ti no see, long ti no see!”
Hee Huan warmly greeted Gu Wen, his deanor piquing the curiosity of the won, wondering which Immortal he might be.
Gu Wen smiled and said, “We just gathered a few years ago.
How are the others doing now?”
“Murong Xue is still looking for a chance to craft her destined Taoist weapon, Lu Chan is nowhere to be found, and He Qing imrsed himself in the Fire Cloud Cave.
They all went their separate ways,” sighed Hee Huan, appearing sowhat lancholic.
Though they hadn’t spent much ti together, a group of young people facing life and death together could easily bond.
“There’s no banquet that doesn’t end, and we will et again.”
Gu Wen also felt quite sentintal; ti had passed in the blink of an eye, seven or eight years, but for him, it seed like only yesterday.
Competing with Hee Huan at Dragon Bridge, joining against their competitors at Luo River, teaming up to kill a True Monarch—now, everything had scattered in a blink.
It’s not that their feelings were particularly deep, except Hee Huan had once shown him great kindness in difficult tis, their bonds deep.
Just like from elentary to university graduation, even if classmates at each stage weren’t close, the mories remained vivid.
“But you’ve married so many wives and consorts, each so beautiful, don’t put on airs like a lonely old man.”
Gu Wen changed the subject and teased, while Hee Huan repeatedly waved his hands admitting nothing, yet spoke telepathically, “Don’t ntion it, they compete daily, and such looks are also crafted through pills.
If their beauty didn’t create a hierarchy among them, I would not have beautified them.
They were perfect as nature made them, why add rouge?”
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