Xia Yan has never died, so of course he won't know this.
At this point, An Buwang's eyes suddenly became blurred: "Perhaps after a while, I will forget what I said and what I did here."
"Sometimes it's painful to remember too much." Xia Yan continued.
An Bu forgot to pick up the teacup and took a sip: "I don't know how blessed I am when I am in the midst of blessings."
Well said! I applauded secretly from the side.
Xia Yan said: "Pain is all due to memory."
An Buwang was startled and turned away: "What's the difference between a person without memory and a puppet?"
"What do you still remember?" Xia Yan asked straightforwardly.
An Buwang squinted his eyes, seeming to be remembering.
"To this day, all I remember are the clips of me floating around in the hall, with many people walking in and then leaving again."
"Main hall? What main hall?" Xia Yan asked.
"Here, that's the place." An Buwang pointed to the corner of the eaves in the distance.
Xia Yan and I looked at each other. Afterwards, Xia Yan asked Yan Xitong where the main hall was.
Yan Xitong said without hesitation: "That's where we went to class when we were kids. The Study Hall."
Xia Yan was deep in thought. Suddenly, he raised his head and said, "Check all the people who have been to the Study Hall."
Yan Xitong was stunned: "That's a lot."
"Is your Taifu still alive?"
"Some are dead, some are still alive."
"Who frequents the study hall?"
"It's just us brothers and some Taifus."
"How many brothers do you have?"
"Five."
"Which five."
"Your Highness Yan Zhan, Second Prince Yan Xi, Third Prince Yan Mu, Fourth Prince Yan Hui. And my fourth brother, Yan Xiaoqing."
I'm also wondering why Xia Yan would ask this.
Xia Yan raised his eyebrows and thought deeply. After a while, he asked again: "Are they all dead now?"
"Uh... does Fourth Brother count?"
"Don't count him."
"If you don't count Fourth Brother, then all of them are dead." When Yan Xitong spoke, he was a little less confident. It seems that the death of these people has something to do with him, but now is not the time to pursue this.
"How long have you been dead?"
"About a year and a half."
Xia Yan looked frustrated: "It looks like it will take some effort."
"How are you going to check?"
If one wanted to find out all the dead people in the entire palace, it would take a year to find out. Even Xia Yan would have to use his own channels, which were the spies lurking in the Yan Kingdom.
In order to help Yan Xiaoqing, Xia Yan went all out. When Yan Xitong learned about this, he was shocked from ear to ear.
"This insidious bastard actually ambushed so many people in our country of Yan, four hundred..." Yan Xitong complained to me angrily.
I glanced at him sideways: "How many arrangements have you made in Xia Guo? You know it yourself."
Yan Xitong paused and muttered silently: "Forty fewer than him."
"That's alright, why are you nagging? Reciprocity is a courtesy."
Yan Xitong was about to have a seizure when he saw Xia Yan bring in a stack of something similar to information, which was two inches thick.
Generally, the paper used as information is not very thick, and is made very thin to facilitate concealment. However, the paper in Xia Yan's hand seems to be just a little bit, but in fact, if it is replaced with ordinary paper, it is as thick as ten books.
"What's this?"
"This is the list of everyone who died in the palace in the past fifty years." Xia Yan threw the paper to Yan Xitong.
Yan Xitong hurriedly caught it, weighed it in his hand, and laughed with admiration: "You have found so much in just a few hours, okay!"
