Chapter 1203 – The Death of Zhao Shao (Part 1)
The news of Cheng Xun’s actions quickly reached Jiang Pengji’s ears, and after hearing it, she fell into a lengthy silence, her expression unreadable.
After a while, she said, “After all, he is Mr. Wenfu’s eldest son and the older brother of Gong Liao. The dead deserve our respect, and all grudges should be set aside. He willingly sacrificed himself for his master to uphold his principles, so I can hardly hold anything against him. Let Gong Liao collect his remains and take him back for burial.”
It would be impossible for Jiang Pengji not to feel anger, yet there was also a sense of helplessness.
According to the education she received since childhood, suicide was an act of cowardice. Regardless of the reasons, such behavior was despicable.
Jiang Pengji would rather hand someone else’s head to another person than take her own life, so she couldn’t understand Cheng Xun’s choice. Personally, she’d prefer if Cheng Xun faced her directly rather than hitting a wall in front of Cheng Yuan and ending his life!
He died decisively, but what about his wife and children, and his elderly parents? How could they cope?
Thoughts of Cheng Cheng, whose hair had already turned white, added furrows of worry to Jiang Pengji’s brow.
The audience in the live stream remained in a daze, first witnessing Xu Pei light a fire, then Cheng Xun hitting a wall and taking his own life—
Though their positions differed, many were still filled with emotion upon hearing this news.
The most heartbroken were those who had once been fans of Xu Pei, who was also a warm and elegant young man, having garnered quite an audience.
【Secret Stewed Plums】: Losing isn’t terrifying; as long as the green mountains remain, we don’t have to worry about firewood. Why did Xu Pei become so despairing?
【Nine Heavens Fighting Eight Domains】: The world is in chaos, and the Xu brothers are tragic figures. Xu Fei was forced to hang himself by Xu Pei, and Xu Pei faced a desperate situation and lit a fire—if only they could take a step back to avoid death, even if it meant giving up their former glory. But the question is, could their pride tolerate this ending? Rather die than live a shameful life. Everyone has their aspirations; this was their choice, and outsiders could only sigh at it—unfortunate to say, if our broadcaster faced such a situation, given her temperament, she would probably make the most extreme choice, right?
Living isn’t hard; what’s difficult is taking that step back.
Whether it’s Xu Fei or Xu Pei, they could choose to surrender and retain their lives, but neither was willing to do so.
For them, pride weighed heavier than life; death wasn’t terrifying, but living required immense courage.
Thus, their deaths were already predetermined.
If Xu Pei’s death was understandable, Cheng Xun’s suicide by wall shocked the audience, sparking discussions where everyone had their own opinions.
Many viewers lamented his loyalty, while another group disapproved.
Cheng Xun’s loyalty to his master Xu Pei was profound, but what about his responsibilities as a son, husband, and father?
Let’s not forget that old Mr. Cheng was already of considerable age in this time.
Could he withstand the blow of suddenly hearing about his eldest son’s suicide?
Viewers had not seen Cheng Xun, their only labels for him being “Cheng Cheng’s son” and “Cheng Yuan’s elder brother.”
His death was swift, but how long would it take his family to recover from this?
A conspiracy theorist wondered if Cheng Xun’s wife and children would blame Jiang Pengji for this grudge.
Just thinking about it made the audience regard Cheng Xun even less favorably.
Were it not for the principle of “the dead deserve respect,” Cheng Xun’s name would likely be strung up for public ridicule.
Conquering Shanweng City left many matters to address. As the leader, Jiang Pengji could delegate trivial affairs to her subordinates, but some issues required her direct involvement, such as taking over Xu Pei’s assets and recruiting those who were still useful.
Of course, ordinary characters didn’t need Jiang Pengji to step in; they lacked the weight, but Han Yu was different.
“It’s been years, but Wenbin still looks well.”
Jiang Pengji considered herself and Han Yu as “alumni,” having known him even before attending Langya.
Han Yu wasn’t tied up, but he was restricted within a small tent and couldn’t go out.
Although he appeared somewhat haggard, his bright eyes and spirited demeanor showed no signs of being a captive.
Jiang Pengji casually sat across from Han Yu at the table, taking the opportunity to observe the young man.
Han Yu asked, “What is Lan Ting looking at?”
Jiang Pengji replied, “I’ve heard people say that time is like a knife, cutting into our youth. But heaven seems to favor Wenbin; that saying doesn’t seem to apply to you. I still remember the scene when I first saw you by the banks of the Han River; you were stunning, breathtaking in your beauty.”
The youthful Han Yu was indeed mesmerizing, with many in the audience holding high-definition screenshots from that time turned into postcards.
A tall young man in a lake-blue scholar’s robe, with skin as delicate as flawless porcelain, bright eyes, and naturally rosy lips that seemed to smile effortlessly.
No words could fully capture his charm.
Han Yu’s expression remained unchanged as he smiled faintly, “If you want to say that to Zixiao, it would be more fitting.”
If Jiang Pengji were a man, that statement would be seen as a bit more bromantic.
The relationship between a leader and their subordinates was often quite close, with history showing many leaders even written romantic letters to their ministers.
But since Jiang Pengji was female, it gave the statement a somewhat ambiguous undertone.
“I’m merely lamenting how swiftly time flies and how fate plays tricks on us, with absolutely no intention of disrespect,” Jiang Pengji clarified with a chuckle; she certainly didn’t want her grapevine to collapse, “At that time, I’m sure you never anticipated our current situation—”
Han Yu furrowed his brow and retorted, “’At that time’? What about Lan Ting? Could you have predicted your own circumstances?”
“Of course I anticipated it. Liu Xi is not the type to settle for peace,” Jiang Pengji laughed. “Didn’t you think the East Qing back then was rotten beyond belief? Putrid things should be uprooted early; only then can fresh meat grow well. Leaving decayed meat without dealing with it is like putting a luxurious silk cover over a wound, only letting the rot go deeper. I’d rather die gloriously than die in obscurity.”
She inherently possessed a chaotic spirit.
“Rotten?” Han Yu’s expression remained unchanged as his brows lifted slightly, “Where?”
Han Yu had analyzed Jiang Pengji many times, but each analysis fell short; it was only now, up close, that he found the true her was vastly different from the image he had in mind. While other lords might put on a facade to cover their shortcomings, she was straightforward and unafraid of slander. Was she truly devoid of guile or simply too candid?
Looking at it now, it must be the latter.
Merits and faults will be evaluated by posterity.
“It’s everywhere, rotting in pieces. Even a divine doctor couldn’t save it,” Jiang Pengji stated, “The leaders are brutal and unkind, favoring their own while ignoring the common people; the ministers are treacherous and disloyal, playing with power without regard for the foundation of the country… Wealthy families are greedy for riches, encroaching on land while disregarding the people… Does Wenbin believe none of this is wrong?”
