Chapter five hundred and eighty third rely on each other
Xu Qinghuan took the book in Song Chengxuan's hand and read it carefully.
This book is a privately sealed copy, with a lot of annotations. At the end of the book, there are two seals, one is the seal of Mr. Wenxi, and the other is Zizaizhai.
Song Chengxuan had just seen these two private seals.
Needless to say, Mr. Wenxi, this Zizai Zhai...
Xu Qinghuan looked at Song Chengxuan: "Is this the prince's book seal?"
Song Chengxuan's eyes were like water in a deep well, deep and restrained: "My father and Mr. Wenxi collected books privately. I have only seen a few of them. The rest of my father have never stayed in the palace, but I know that my father has this
Book seal.
When I was looking for the book, I was sure that the person was Mr. Wenxi because of the seal of Zizai Zhai."
There was a small box in front of Song Chengxuan. He slowly opened the box, which contained a palm-sized booklet. The outer cover of the book was wrapped in a small piece of brocade, but the brocade was stained with dark red stains.
Although the blood stains were very old, they were still shocking to look at.
Song Chengxuan gently opened the pages of the book, and many of the writings on it were blurred because of the blood.
"This is a booklet I made privately when I was enlightened. When something happened at home, I happened to have this booklet with me.
Back then, I was rescued from the palace by Mr. Song's house. Mr. Song was afraid that I would be in danger with this book, so he kept it for me. Later, Mr. Song's house was killed. Mrs. Song led people to deal with Mr. Song's death and found this book.
The book was returned to me."
Song Chengxuan paused slightly when he said this. This book seemed to take him back to that night.
His tone was indifferent, but there seemed to be a fire burning in his heart. He didn't dare to think back on the years when he had just escaped death. As long as those scenes appeared in his mind, his clothes would be soaked with sweat in an instant.
That feeling made his back tense up involuntarily. Even though he looked calm on the surface now, the pain he felt in his heart was still the same as before.
When Song Chengxuan thought about this, he felt his shoulders soften, and the people around him leaned over.
Song Chengxuan looked down and saw her leaning on his shoulder, looking up at him, her eyes full of concern, her soft fingers gently rubbing his arm, trying to give him some comfort.
Song Chengxuan's chest, which seemed to be tightly pinched, slowly relaxed, and the anger gradually subsided.
His voice became clear again: "Before this, my father saw this book of mine and took it away to look at. When he returned it to me, there was a book seal like this at the bottom of the book."
Song Chengxuan opened the last page and showed it to Xu Qinghuan. The seal on it was blurred, but if you read it carefully, you could still see the word "Zizai".
So Song Chengxuan said that Prince Wei intended to ask Mr. Wenxi to be his teacher, and showed this book to Mr. Wenxi in order to make him appreciate his talents.
If nothing happens in Prince Wei's palace, maybe Mr. Wenxi will finally agree. It is not easy to find such a smart student.
These two seals corroborate each other, and it can be confirmed that the person who organized the book collection with Prince Wei in private was Mr. Wenxi.
Song Chengxuan continued: "I found these annotated books and looked carefully. Since the incident in Prince Wei's palace, Mr. Wenxi has not annotated new books, but his old books have been engraved."
Xu Qinghuan listened carefully to Song Chengxuan's words. Mr. Wenxi did not have a new album. Maybe he changed his name. Maybe he was living in seclusion in the mountains because of the tragic death of King Wei. But the most likely thing is that Mr. Wenxi is no longer alive.
People in the palace had gone to that courtyard to deliver messages. If the matter was exposed, the court would definitely go to that courtyard to check. Only by erasing all clues could Song Chengxuan be safe.
What's more, the danger was discovered before the Song family's house left Beijing. Mr. Song was determined to die, and so were the people in the courtyard.
In order to leave blood in the Wei Palace, so many people sacrificed their lives.
"We will clear their grievances," Xu Qinghuan said. "Those who were hiding in the dark back then will not be able to escape this time."
The Prince of Wei's mind was not originally focused on the dragon chair. The frame-up and murder of the late emperor forced Song Chengxuan to hold a sharp weapon. The late emperor and his son would eventually swallow the fruit they had sown.
Song Chengxuan put the book in his hand back into the box: "If we find the person who engraved Mr. Wenxi's book, we can get the answer we want."
What happened fourteen years ago will be slowly revealed.
…
In front of a tomb.
The stooped old man stuck a stick of incense on the loess, and then used his wrinkled hands to take out the tributes in the basket one by one.
Looking at the objects in front of him, he nodded with satisfaction and lit the paper in his hand.
"Sir, don't be surprised," the old man said in a hoarse voice, "Today's tribute is too simple."
Having said this, the old man couldn't help but shake his head: "Sir, you don't care about these things."
The firelight reflected the old man's cheeks. When the fire in front of him burned out, he tremblingly kowtowed three times to the tomb.
Every time he finished doing this, he would pack up his things and leave slowly, but today he had no intention of leaving. He slowly looked around.
This barren mountain rarely sees people on weekdays, not to mention that in winter like this, firewood collectors will not walk such a long way to get here.
I buried my husband here because I knew he liked peace and quiet.
The old man sighed: "Sir, there are some things I don't dare to say to others, so I have to come to you..."
After the old man said this, he paused slightly. The strong wind took away the last snow on the branches and blew it to the corner of his eyes, leaving a piece of crystal clear: "He did it again, just like he did fourteen years ago. What do you think I should do?"
manage?
Neither you nor the prince could stop me back then, so I am going to ask someone for help this time."
After saying this, the old man closed his mouth tightly. The incense in front of him was still burning. He looked at the curl of green smoke blown away by the wind, as if he wanted to get the answer from it.
But he soon gave up. How could someone who had already passed away talk to him again?
He stood up from the ground with difficulty, bent over and picked up the basket, and staggered forward.
After walking a few steps, the old man noticed a young man walking towards here with a guard. The guard was carrying a basket, and there seemed to be incense and candles in the basket.
The old man smiled slightly and pretended to be nonchalant: "You two are also coming to offer incense? The road in the snow-capped mountains is not easy to walk just now, so be careful."
The young man's eyes were introverted, but his brows still showed a bit of power, and the old man couldn't help but feel a little nervous.
The young man walked to the grave not far from the old man and stopped.
The old man was even more shocked. He was about to leave quickly, but when he glanced around, he saw a book in the guard's basket.
Although he didn't know much about literacy, he was very familiar with the book because it was Mr. Wenxi's book and he had personally engraved it.
Fourteen years later, they found me.
…
Studying in Beijing ended today, and it was difficult to control the update time on the way back. I will update only one update today, and everything will return to normal tomorrow.