The War God Uncle's Delicate Wife

When Shi Liu received the gold medal, she gave it to Jiang Li without any hesitation. Jiang Li was a little surprised when she saw it, and the gold medal in front of her made her even more confused.

Shi Liu said to Jiang Li, "The prince told her to carry the gold medal with her in case of emergency. If she encounters some stupid people, she can take it out to scare people." Shi Liu said it easily but Jiang Li did not feel at ease.

Shi Liu smiled and said, "Miss, I think you should keep this gold medal. What if you lose it here?"

Jiang Li was touched. She didn't think that Shi Liu, as a secret guard, would throw things away. Shi Liu was really kind to her. But she couldn't accept this kindness. First, the gold medal was given to Shi Liu by Mu Jiuchen. Second, the gold medal was of great importance and she couldn't do anything she wanted.

Jiang Li politely rejected Shi Liu's kindness and explained the reason to her. Shi Liu had no choice but to put away the gold medal.

next day

The atmosphere in the magnificent Zichen Hall was solemn and dignified. Mu Jiurui sat at his desk, concentrating on reading the memorial in his hand, which was a disaster relief memorial for Jiangnan. Mu Jiuchen, who was standing beside him, was wearing a gorgeous dragon robe and sipping tea calmly. His handsome face and elegant manners seemed to form a sharp contrast with the tense atmosphere.

However, despite the calmness on the surface, Mu Jiuchen has his own unique habit - tapping the table with his fingers, making a rhythmic sound. This seemingly casual action makes the people kneeling in front of the desk tremble with fear.

As time passed, the fear became more and more intense. He could even feel his knees becoming numb from kneeling on the ground for so long. However, he did not dare to move easily for fear of causing greater displeasure to the emperor.

In this suffocating atmosphere, time seemed to freeze. Finally, the emperor put down the last memorial in his hand, raised his head, and swept his eyes across the kneeling person.

"Qin Huai, is this what you mean by the disaster victims have been properly resettled?" Mu Jiurui angrily threw the memorial from Jiangnan in his hand at the head of the Minister of Revenue Qin Huai. The memorial was like a sharp whip, carrying endless anger and questioning, flying straight towards Qin Huai.

Qin Huai looked at the scene in horror. With trembling hands, he slowly picked up the memorial on the ground. When he saw the bright red bloody handprints on it, his face instantly turned as pale as paper.

These handprints seemed like countless pairs of eyes eager to survive and be rescued, staring at him closely. These words were not ordinary ink marks, but a book of all peoples written by the people of Jiangnan with their own blood! They represented the suffering and grievances of the people, and were also complaints against the court and unwillingness to accept fate.

Mu Jiurui stared at Qin Huai, anger flashing in his eyes: "Look at this letter from all the people. Every word on it is the voice of the people in the south of the Yangtze River! They are suffering, and you tell me that everything is fine? How do you do things!" His voice was like thunder, echoing in the Purple Palace, shocking everyone.

"Your Majesty, please forgive me! Your Majesty, please forgive me! I deserve to die, I deserve to die..." Qin Huai kowtowed heavily and begged for mercy from the emperor in tears. He prostrated himself on the cold and hard ground, his forehead hitting the floor with a crisp sound, as if every sound was filled with endless regret and self-blame.

It turned out that when Qin Huai heard the report from his subordinates, he did not personally verify the situation and believed what they said. Who would have thought that it was because of his negligence that he led to the current unmanageable situation.

Mu Jiurui, who was sitting on the dragon throne, was furious and trembling with anger. He stared at Qin Huai, who kept kowtowing and apologizing, with his eyes wide open, and said with gritted teeth: "You really deserve to die! Even if you die a hundred times, it will never bring back the lives of thousands of innocent people in Jiangnan!"

"Someone come!" Mu Jiurui shouted angrily, his voice was like thunder, shaking the whole palace slightly. There were sparks of anger flashing in his eyes, as if he wanted to burn everything in front of him to ashes.

The guards outside the door heard the call and hurried over immediately. They stood respectfully in front of Mu Jiurui, waiting for his instructions.

"Throw him into the prison!" Mu Jiurui's tone was cold and resolute, leaving no room for negotiation. His finger pointed at Qin Huai, who was lying on the ground. The man was so frightened that his face turned pale and he was trembling all over.

The guards did not dare to be negligent, they quickly stepped forward, one of them grabbed one of Qin Huai's arms, and dragged him out like a dead dog. Qin Huai struggled desperately, but his strength was far less than that of the two well-trained guards, and he could only be dragged mercilessly to the place full of fear and despair - the prison.

"Yes!" the guards answered in unison, then dragged Qin Huai away.

"Your Majesty, spare me, Your Majesty, spare me!" Qin Huai shouted in horror, and the voice seemed to be dragged by an invisible force, getting farther and farther away until it disappeared into the air. As the plea for mercy faded away, the originally tense and depressing atmosphere in the Purple Palace suddenly became unusually quiet.

At this moment, in the huge hall, only Mu Jiuchen sat calmly, savoring the fragrant tea in his cup leisurely. His movements were elegant and calm, forming a sharp contrast with the nervous servants around him. And those servants were like frightened quails, lowering their heads, not daring to move at all. They knew very well that at this moment, even the slightest breathing sound could cause dissatisfaction with His Majesty the Emperor, and thus bring about a disaster of death.