Priceless: A widow with a baby asks the prince to marry again

The faint light of early morning filtered through the gaps in the curtains and sparingly shone into the tent.

Zhu Hengzhen, the genius doctor who had not slept all night, carefully pressed the wrist that was like a dead branch, feeling it with bated breath.

His pulse was still as weak as a thread, as if it would die out at any moment, yet strangely... tenacious? Just a thread hanging on, undying and unfading. He frowned. This pulse was too strange...

At this moment, the pair of eyes on the couch, which had been closed all the time and seemed to be able to see through all the fog in the world, opened without any warning.

Serjiguleng woke up.

Zhu Hengzhen subconsciously began to perform the duties of a doctor by observing, listening, asking and palpating.

Those eyes were still calm, like a bottomless cold pond, yet suddenly clear.

Zhu Hengzhen took a closer look and vaguely discovered that the stagnant water seemed to have been thrown into by a tiny stone, causing a very faint but unusually clear ripple.

Zhu Hengzhen knew this was a last gasp of hope, but he didn't know how long it would last...

He forced himself to calm down, his eyes sweeping across the glaring, dried and dark bloody handprint on the old Taoist's collar - it was caused by Prince Duan Chu Shiyu's rage yesterday.

When he came back last night and saw this situation, he couldn't help but feel extremely anxious, fearing that the last prince, who was of great importance to him, would not be able to survive the darkness before dawn and die at this final moment.

However, after a night of anxiety and restlessness, Zhu Hengzhen suddenly understood why Liu Rusi was so sure that the last prince would be able to survive and return to his ancestral home...

There seems to be an inextinguishable obsession in this exhausted body, maintaining a faint firefly light... It will not be easily extinguished before the unknown mission is completed.

Looking at those suddenly clear eyes and that strange "spirit", Zhu Hengzhen sighed secretly with mixed feelings: Well, with this obsession, I should be able to hold on...

As long as he can hold on until he can show up in front of the hundreds of thousands of northern tribesmen and complete the important task entrusted to him by the emperor, that will be enough.

……

Three miles outside the military camp, there is a city named "Guiyuan City" which has taken shape in a short period of time.

The ten-foot-high earth and stone wall is like a newborn dragon. Although it looks rough, it reveals a solidity that cannot be ignored.

Today, all construction work in the city has been suspended, and all the noise and dust have gathered in the huge open space in the city center that has been specially cleared.

The ceremony of recognizing one's ancestors and returning to one's roots is originally a grand show performed for the northern people.

The bigger the stage and the more spectators there are, the more it can demonstrate the power of Daxia's trump card of "the legitimate successor to the previous dynasty", and the more it can intimidate, divide and win over the hearts of the people in the Mobei grassland.

Invitations had already been scattered across the grassland like snowflakes, and a large number of free people recruited by Chu Shiyu were also here to make up the numbers.

Even so, Prince Kang Chu Shikun and Prince Duan Chu Shiyu still had some doubts in their hearts - would the various tribes in Mobei really buy into it?

However, when the sun rose and the morning light shone on the top of Guiyuan City, the scene before them made all doubts disappear, and was replaced by an incomprehensible shock.

People! Tides of people poured in from all directions! Like a huge herd of migrating beasts, they almost completely submerged this unfinished city!

The central square, which seemed empty yesterday, is now packed with people, a sea of ​​black people stretching as far as the eye can see.

The rough leather robes, felt hats, and braided hair, mixed with the dust and the smell of animals brought by the long journey, formed a surging torrent with primitive power.

A rough estimate put the crowd at over a hundred thousand! The makeshift wooden platform seemed so tiny in the center of the crowd, as if it could be overturned at any moment by the surging sea of ​​people!

Chu Shiyu, dressed in a prince's dragon robe, stood on a temporary viewing platform on the side of the platform. His face was as calm as water, but his tightly pursed thin lips and slightly narrowed phoenix eyes revealed his inner vigilance.

Chu Shikun sat on the soft chair next to him, his body still weak from his injuries, his face pale, but his eyes were still scanning the ground sharply.

They indeed underestimated the weight of the title of "the last prince of the previous dynasty" in the hearts of the grassland people, or in other words, they underestimated the means by which their father, the Great Xia Emperor Chu Tianming, used his magnificent power to overwhelm others.

But this surging crowd is by no means peaceful.

"God of Heaven! Is that really the prince of our Holy Dynasty? The people of Daxia are so cunning. Could it be that they found a scapegoat to deceive us?!" A burly man with a full beard waved his fist and spoke in a loud voice. His questioning voice immediately attracted a lot of echoes.

"Bah! Coward! If you were caught by the Han people, you should have died like a grassland eagle with your neck broken! The fact that you are still alive today is a great shame for the northern people!" A leader dressed as an aristocrat, with his hair and beard standing up, cursed towards the platform with saliva flying, his words full of contempt and disdain for Seriguleng.

"You bastards of Daxia! You insult our faith with such despicable means! Changshengtian will punish you!" Some people even pointed the finger directly at the Daxia court, triggering waves of angry roars.

"Returning to one's roots? I think that's like recognizing a thief as your father! The bloodline of the Golden Family cannot be tarnished like this!" Sharp accusations were like poisonous stings, echoing one after another in the noisy crowd.

Various remarks were mixed together, including questioning, spitting, and cursing... like countless invisible weapons, colliding violently in the air.

There were some pure supporters. Most of them looked excited, with tears in their eyes, and looked towards the platform, muttering to themselves, calling out "Your Highness the Crown Prince". However, their voices seemed so weak amid the huge waves of opposition, like a few small boats in the raging waves.

The entire square was filled with a chaotic atmosphere of mania, suspicion, anger and fanaticism, like a huge powder keg that could be ignited at any time.

The soldiers who were maintaining order tightly grasped their spears and swords, cold sweat dripping from their foreheads, and they watched vigilantly at every corner where an outbreak might occur. The atmosphere was extremely tense.

At this moment, a deep horn blasted, drowning out the clamor. Everyone's attention was instantly drawn to the passage leading to the platform, which was heavily guarded by elite soldiers.

Eight strong soldiers, wearing specially selected new uniforms with northern tribe patterns, carried a luxurious royal sedan chair with steady and solemn steps, slowly walked out of the tent, and appeared at the entrance of the passage that was closely guarded by soldiers.

Sitting upright, or rather leaning on the royal chariot, was an old man with white hair, chicken skin and a withered complexion - Borjigin Seriguleng.

The old Taoist robe he wore, starched white and a symbol of pure cultivation and detachment from the world, had long been replaced. In its place, Emperor Chu Tianming had ordered people to make the gorgeous clothes of the Northern Tribe royal family based on the old clothes of the previous dynasty that had been sealed up at the founding of the country.

The brocade reflects a restrained and deep luster in the morning light. The intricate patterns embroidered with gold and silver threads are entwined on the lapels, cuffs and hem, symbolizing the once unparalleled power and bloodline.

However, this gorgeous dress, which should have been noble and majestic, looked unusually loose and empty when wrapped around the body which was only a pile of dry bones, as if a slightly stronger breeze could blow away the gorgeous dress and the dry bones inside.

His loose Taoist bun was also taken apart and re-combed and braided into the traditional braid of the northern nobles, and meticulously tied behind his head.

This change in clothing and appearance seemed to bring him back to the identity he had long lost and buried.

His head was slightly lowered, as if he had no strength to lift his neck.

Like a puppet in gorgeous costume but devoid of spirit, it performs a grand parade on the royal chariot, a symbol of honor...

However, when the eight soldiers carried the royal sedan chair and stepped heavily onto the first wooden step leading to the platform, the slight vibration caused by the sedan chair seemed to touch something.

Seriguleng, this old man who was at the end of his life, was awakened to a trace of strength buried deep in his soul. He raised his head slowly and with great difficulty.

The moment he looked up—

The crowd that was nearby and was originally clamoring, questioning, cursing or fanatically, all their voices were suddenly strangled as if by an invisible hand!

It was not because of the gorgeous clothes that symbolized his status, nor was it because of the majestic royal chariot and ceremonial guards.

But because of those eyes!

Those extremely penetrating eyes, as if able to see through all illusions, were now calmly sweeping across the boiling and complex sea of ​​people in front of them, with a kind of compassion and understanding that had experienced the vicissitudes of life.

That gaze pierced through the veil of finery, the ceremonial guards of the royal chariot, and pierced directly into the souls of every person who met its gaze. It was not the turbidity of a dying man, nor the humiliation of a prisoner, nor the deliberate majesty of a prince impersonating a prince.

It is a kind of peace and clarity that transcends life and death, honor and disgrace, and has insight into the trajectory of fate and the various aspects of human nature.

The square, packed with hundreds of thousands of people, fell into a suffocating silence, inexplicably affected. The only sounds were the rustling of flags in the wind and the muffled thud of the soldiers on the imperial chariot treading heavily on the wooden steps.

The royal chariot was finally carried to the center of the platform.

The six soldiers carrying the sedan chair quickly separated and stood guard on both sides.

Then, two burly soldiers stepped forward. Instead of supporting the emperor, they reached directly into the royal chariot—the seat was stuck to the chariot frame. Together, they lifted the heavy seat, along with Seriguleng, who was sitting on it!

Although the two soldiers tried their best to show respect, the action of "holding" itself made Serji Guleng have no independent reaction in the seat, and he was carried like an object!

This moment shattered the brief tranquility brought by those eyes just now!

"Look! Your Highness the Crown Prince can't move at all!"

"Daxia bastards! They imprisoned the prince and crippled his legs!"

"Eternal Heaven! How dare they humiliate the Golden Family's bloodline like this!"

"His Royal Highness was forced! He had no choice!"

This time, the wave of anger is even more turbulent than before!

The doubters and those who had already cursed Daha found the most powerful evidence, and the sound of their voices almost overturned the platform!

The pilgrims, who had been fervently praying, were now furious. Many of them rushed forward, attempting to break through the soldiers' blockade, shouting, "Save His Royal Highness!" "Protect the Holy Dynasty's bloodline!" The situation was on the verge of getting out of control! Soldiers gripped their weapons tightly, veins bulging on their foreheads, and a conflict was imminent!

Just when the chaos reached its peak!

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

A deafening roar of drums suddenly erupted! Like a god beating a war drum, the heavy and majestic sound waves pressed down upon the seething crowd like a physical force, forcibly suppressing the clamorous tide of anger for a moment!

Then, dozens of men with powerful voices as resounding as lions shouted in unison in pure Mongolian. Their voices penetrated the drumbeats and reached the ears of every Northern tribe member clearly:

“Welcome—the Holy Emperor—back to his throne—!!!”

These few words, like magic, instantly froze all movements and sounds.

Countless pairs of eyes, filled with shock, confusion, and disbelief, all looked towards the passage behind the platform that had been separated by the soldiers.

Sixteen strong men in white linen clothes and with solemn expressions were seen carrying a huge coffin covered with bright yellow brocade, and climbing up the platform with heavy and slow steps.

The coffin was made of extremely fine materials, exuding a heavy scent of ancient wood, and the dragon patterns covering it were majestic and vicissitudes of life.

The last emperor of the previous dynasty!

That emperor fought to his death in the imperial palace in the capital, ending his life in the most glorious and heroic way, becoming an eternal totem revered by countless northern people!

His remains were actually preserved by Daxia? And they were transported all the way from Daxia's capital to the Mobei grasslands!

The coffin was placed in front of Seriguleng's seat with great solemnity.

The heavy sound of the ground hitting the ground seemed to hit the hearts of every member of the Northern Tribe.

Seriguleng's eyes, which had always been perceptive and calm, finally began to shake violently the moment the coffin appeared! His skinny body began to tremble uncontrollably!

Those eyes that could see through the secrets of heaven stared at the coffin covered with dragon patterns, as if they wanted to penetrate the thick wood and see the father inside whom they had not seen for more than half a century!

The pain, like the most turbulent magma, instantly broke through the dam he had built with his life's cultivation!

This wasn't just the pain of losing his father! It was the overwhelming grief of having his country shattered, his dynasty overthrown, and being the crown prince unable to change the situation!

It was the sorrow of being a son, unable to do anything while his father's remains were crushed by the mighty rocks of Mount Tai for over fifty years! It was the humiliation of not being able to kneel before his father's remains and repent!

It is the guilt of living in anonymity and struggling for more than 50 years!

The pain was so great that it almost completely destroyed his remaining vitality!

His withered cheeks twitched violently, his cracked lips opened and closed silently, his usually clear eyes now stained with turbid tears, bitterness rolling out uncontrollably, dripping onto the luxurious yet empty robes of a former prince...

Just as the heartbreaking silence and sorrow spread, a figure walked up to the coffin and stood in front of Serriguleng's chair.

He is the fifth prince of Daxia, Chu Shihuan.

He was dressed in the ceremonial robes of a prince of Great Xia, his posture was upright, and he tried hard to maintain his dignity. But upon closer inspection, one could see that the joints of his fingers were slightly white from the force of gripping the imperial edict, and there was a hint of nervousness in the depths of his eyes - this was an important task entrusted to him by his father, and it concerned the future of Mobei and even the entire northern border of Great Xia, and he could not afford to make any mistakes.

He took a deep breath, unfolded the bright yellow imperial edict in his hand, and read aloud in loud and clear Mongolian with an impassioned and respectful tone:

"The Emperor of Great Xia, by the Will of Heaven, proclaims: I and the Yuan Crown Prince, Borjigin Seriguleng, although we belong to different countries, have a long-standing friendship, truly a friendship transcending age! I cherish his talent, sympathize with his aspirations, and always consider him a close friend! However, the affairs of our two countries are of great importance to the nation, and while I wish to support his return home, I cannot override national law based on personal friendship!"

His voice spread across the silent square, and every word struck the nerves of the Northerners.

"Now, I see that Crown Prince Yuan is gravely ill and has not much time left. Filial piety is the moral code of heaven! Although I am the ruler of another nation, I cannot bear to see him live with regrets for the rest of his life! Therefore, I grant his request and bring the coffin of his father, the last emperor of the Yuan Dynasty, back to his homeland in Mobei to bury him, to fulfill his filial piety!"

As soon as these words were spoken, there was an uproar in the audience again!

So, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince had sacrificed his life and his final cooperation in exchange for the return of the Saint Emperor's remains?! Many Northerners' expressions became extremely complicated... but ultimately, they couldn't directly criticize someone who had risked his life to defend his father's dignity...

Chu Shihuan's voice became even louder, with a kind of "imperial grace" excitement:

"To honor the benevolence of our Great Xia, and in remembrance of the merits of the Yuan Crown Prince, and the former glory of the Golden Family's rule over the grasslands, I hereby confer upon Borjigin Seriguleng the title of—King Yuan!!"

He paused deliberately, letting the title "King Yuan" echo in the air.

"Grant him a fiefdom—the boundless grasslands of the northern desert! He will forever rule the northern border, and his descendants will inherit it!"

“I hereby order—!”

After Chu Shihuan finished reading the imperial edict, he respectfully held the imperial edict in both hands in the direction of Seriguleng.

The entire square fell into deathly silence.

There was only the sound of the flags blowing in the wind, and the heavy coffin, a symbol of humiliation and exchange, lying quietly in the center of the platform.

The Great Xia Emperor's plan was finally revealed.

He used the corpse of the last emperor, the empty title of "King Yuan" and the false promise of "the boundless land of Mobei" to push a dying enemy to the altar, and also threw a huge bait called "orthodoxy" to the entire turbulent Mobei grassland.

And in the center of the storm, the withered figure just shed tears and stared at his father's coffin, as if all the noise, rewards and calculations around him had nothing to do with him.