"Enough, let us wait two more hours before drinking," Xiao Song put down the bowl, wiped the grease from his hands, and asked, "Do you truly have sensation in your lower limbs?"
"Xiao Yuezhi, I find that you’ve beco naive, believing the unreliable words of Liu Qingsong?" Ran Yan frowned as she said.
Xiao Song shook his head, but said, "However, the situation he described, although I am not well-versed in dicine, seems sowhat credible."
Ran Yan said, "It’s not that easy to be paralyzed. Only when the spinal cord is severely damaged can it cause paraplegia. I had calculated it at the ti; when I inserted the poison needle into that person’s body, the opponent must have montarily hesitated, which would have at least halved the force of the fall, nowhere near enough to damage my spinal cord. Otherwise, why would I ever expose my back to the enemy?"
Ran Yan was still fortunate; she intentionally moved her body, but the blade still fell near her spine, thankfully missing the spinal nerves. Otherwise, even if it might not lead to paraplegia, she would have indeed lost sensation in her lower body. The direct result would be the inability to control urination and defecation.
Xiao Song furrowed his brows, "That said, he is ill again."
Liu Qingsong, every ti he faced a major setback, would subconsciously escape, using those fictitious stories to numb himself. He was as afraid of Ran Yan getting hurt as Xiao Song, so he simply wished for the situation to evolve as he imagined. Regardless of how poor the process, the outco was always ideal.
"It seems An Xin can’t put him at ease either," Ran Yan sighed. In so ways, Liu Qingsong’s obstinacy was on par with Qidian.
Hearing Ran Yan confidently say she was unhard, Xiao Song slightly relaxed, without delving deeper into the aning of Ran Yan’s sigh, and instead said, "Ayan, there is sothing I want to discuss with you."
"What is it?" Ran Yan looked at him.
"Once the new Crown Prince is decided, I will resign. I have many properties in Chang’an, and with my rank, there will always be no problems with clothing and food," Xiao Song said.
After the recent two incidents, Xiao Song believed that no guard was reliable, and only personal protection was truly dependable. However, as the Assistant Minister of Criminal Justice, laden with daily duties, he could not always focus on ho affairs.
Ran Yan was silent for a long while before replying, "I want to agree, but I also understand that I’m not suited for such a leisurely life. If I am destined not to die of natural causes, I would rather be killed than die of idleness. And you, place your hand over your heart and tell , are you truly content with diocrity?"
"Why speak such inauspicious words!" Xiao Song frowned, "Farming so well that it isn’t diocre is also a skill."
This statent, although countering Ran Yan, actually revealed his true inner thoughts—he was definitely not soone content with idyllic leisure.
For a true man, providing his family with wealth and honour was rely an expression of their accomplishnts, an added value to their pursuit of a career. They love power just as won love to dress up, often without any need for justification.
"Xiao Yuezhi," Ran Yan softly said, "resign after another ten years. You should know more clearly than . With the Crown Prince plotting rebellion, the position is certainly at risk; such turbulent tis will not last long. I have suffered so much in this turmoil; when peace is restored, to just abandon the position I’ve long pursued would be too great a loss."
Xiao Song watched her, his smile broadening until he laughed out loud, "Ayan, truly a confidant!"
Ran Yan smiled quietly.
The autumn wind had already begun to carry a hint of chill.
Outside, leaves were falling profusely, and with the sun reaching high noon, the light was dazzlingly bright around Ci’en Temple. A young man in a grey monk’s robe held a broom, diligently sweeping the leaves.
No sooner had he swept an area clean than more leaves fell. He imdiately went back to sweep again.
The dappled sunlight fell on him, on his face, casting his handso visage in an unearthly light. He swept seriously and persistently, engrossed in his own world, seemingly unaware of the many eyes, so sneaky, others openly watching, of the ladies and won around him.
"Mr. Sang is indeed handso..." soone couldn’t help but whisper in admiration, imdiately receiving a wave of agreent.
The fact that Sang Chen was assigned sweeping duties was entirely incidental. Once, plagued by distress, Sang Suiyuan went to ask Master Huai Jing for a sermon to ease his mind. Huai Jing then said he was distracted by too many thoughts and sent him to the temple gate to sweep leaves.
Ever since that day, the abbot noticed that the number of pilgrims had increased several tis over. Filled with serenity and wisdom, the abbot soon found out the reason and regularly sent Sang Chen to the entrance to sweep leaves, especially during this best season for it, the crisp autumn air, naturally not to be wasted.
Sang Chen had been sweeping from morning until almost evening, as the temple gate was about to close, and the crowd of onlookers had dispersed.
As he swept to the lowest step, he turned and saw again a ground full of fallen leaves and decided to return and sweep again, when a plump young monk shouted loudly from above, "Uncle-Master, it is ti for the al!"
"Oh, I know," Sang Chen answered.
The young monk got a response and dashed off to grab food.
Sang Chen used his broom to move the leaves on the ground, pondering whether to have dinner first or to finish sweeping.
In the midst of his contemplation, with a loud thump, Sang Chen felt a gust of wind in front of him as an object fell directly in front of him, crying out "ouch."
He stared blankly at the curvaceous and pretty "object" on the ground.
The beautiful object, rubbing her waist, got up and covered her face with her sleeve, coquettishly saying, "Esteed sir, I was just passing by, you saw nothing."
With that, she dashed off towards the twilight-soaked market.
Sang Chen abruptly turned around, looked around, and muttered, "Where is the ’esteed sir’?"
At present, only a Pri Minister could be addressed as ’esteed sir’... Could it be this young woman knocked her senses out?
He then looked up, gazing at the sky filled with evening glow, and stood still for a long while, the word "passing by" echoing in his mind. (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, we welco you to Qidian (qidian) to cast your recomndation tickets and monthly tickets, your support is my greatest motivation.)
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