kvmb Chapter 242 The Four-Year Seal Removal of Jingyasha
Chapter 242 The Four-Year Seal Removal of Jingyasha
Sanlang Zian replied: Now that all the gods and big shots have left this place, we need to find a way to gather the right people again. How about we sign a new contract?
Jin Cheng Xiao Si: That previous approach didn't work... We Tibetans made seven or eight trips back and forth, and you pushed and shoved us back every time. Speaking of that Zhang guy you sent, he didn't do his job properly, betrayed his previous oath, and brought his men to provoke us, forcing us to take up arms and fight.
The main problem was that it coincided with the handover of defense duties between the old and new forces, which allowed those who like to stir up trouble to see it and insist that we were secretly deploying troops on the border...
Sanlang Zian: The imperial court is too busy to care about anything else, and there's no peace anywhere in the world... Sigh... Please hold on a little longer for me!
Jin Cheng Xiao Si: Alright, then let's just establish the Jiannan Military Governor, who will govern twenty-five prefectures and keep a close eye on this southwestern region. This two-pronged approach will only ensure that nothing goes wrong for the time being.
After serving diligently as prime minister for four years, Qiu Rongjing finally retired with honors.
Sanlang Zian cherished Jingru like a precious little rhinoceros in his palm, fearing that this extraordinary talent would be worn down by mundane affairs. So he followed the ancients and hid the pearl in a box, telling the outside world that he had just finished his term of office and was retiring.
Some pedantic scholars, however, gossip about history books, claiming that Song Jing's dismissal as prime minister was a ploy by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang to appease public anger.
When these words reached Sanlang Zian's ears, he was savoring the fragrant tea in a Ru kiln teacup. Upon hearing this, he choked on the tea, which splashed everywhere, turning the memorials on his desk into ink-like clouds.
Qiu Rongjing laughed so hard he almost fell over, leaning against the carved wooden window so he couldn't straighten up. Looking at the swaying shadows of the paulownia trees outside, he laughed heartily, "Your Majesty, look at these swaying shadows! They look like little rhinoceroses dancing the whirling dance. Don't worry, I will definitely investigate the counterfeit money matter thoroughly and leave those demons and monsters nowhere to hide!"
To say that Qiu Rongjing's crackdown on corrupt officials was like a chef stir-frying tripe—it required precise control of the heat. Under his iron fist, those corrupt officials who usually acted arrogantly and domineeringly either wept and kowtowed repeatedly, or stubbornly resisted with their necks stiffened.
When he encountered those who had committed heinous crimes yet still cried and protested their innocence, he didn't even raise an eyebrow, and declared firmly: "Those who yield and repent will have their sentences reduced and be released; those who stubbornly resist and refuse to behave will have plenty of prison food!!"
Such swift and decisive action naturally attracted numerous enemies, who flocked from Chang'an to Luoyang. Adding to the chaos, natural disasters struck, with successive droughts scorching the earth until it cracked and split, even reducing the city's moat to a mere ribbon of bluestone.
The families of the punished officials seized the opportunity to fabricate a legend about the drought demon, donating money to have it performed by opera troupes: "Drought demon, drought demon, where does it come from? It comes from the prime minister's resentment in prison! Officials Jing and Ting investigate counterfeit money, and weeping and wailing fill the banks of the Huai River!"
The ballad spread like wildfire through the streets, but Qiu Rongjing stood with his hands behind his back in the courtyard, stroking his beard and laughing as he looked at the drooping flowers and plants: "Doing things is like popping popcorn. Although it may be hot to the touch with all the popping and crackling, it's only satisfying when it explodes!"
These people fabricated stories to mislead the public; the opera troupes wrote scripts merely to make a living, demonstrating how difficult it is to eradicate counterfeit money, and even more difficult to control public opinion. The subsequent An Lushan Rebellion, which led to a rapid decline in the situation, was likely also inextricably linked to this oversight of public sentiment.
Sanlang, who was playing with the caged thrush, heard Jing's words and the bird fluttered about anxiously: "Master Jing, you really need to take this seriously! People outside are starting to say you're a monstrous monster with a blue face and fangs!"
Qiu Rongjing tapped her teacup on the stone table, making a clear splash: "I almost wish I were a demon, able to both intimidate the petty and cleanse the corrupt world. Punishing corrupt officials is like deep-frying stinky tofu; the spicier and more pungent it is, the more it serves as a wake-up call! When the time is right, perhaps some future hero will have to continue writing history."
Sanlang Zian sipped his fragrant tea, then sighed, "Back then, when Zhuge Liang executed Ma Su with tears in his eyes, didn't he also earn a reputation for being cold-blooded and ruthless? In this world, there always has to be someone who plays the good cop to quell the unrest, and someone who plays the bad cop to appease the people. Otherwise, those powerful families, colluding with each other, might just turn this bright and clear world into chaos."
The sycamore leaves rustled in the courtyard, and the iron-faced prime minister's heartfelt words filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on his body, making him look just like the legendary Yaksha, holding a vajra and ready to sweep away all the injustices of the world.
But when the time comes, who will he dress up as?