Quick Wear: There is always a female supporting role tearing up the script

The door opened and the guards in the room left. Zong Zhenglin sat up from the bed with his hair loose. The light was too bright and his eyes stung and tears came out. He put his hands in front of his eyes and put them down after a long time. He saw a tall figure standing at the door against the light.

Even though it was just a figure, he recognized it in an instant. It was Yan Huaiming.

He was too familiar with him. From the age of twelve to sixteen, Yan Huaiming was both his teacher and friend. He kept him by his side and taught him how to be a monarch and how to fight against Zhao Xuzhen.

"Teacher," he stood up with tears in his eyes, "Teacher, you came to save me!"

He hadn't gotten up for too long. This small palace was filled with guards, with doors and windows tightly closed, not even much light could get in. Except for eating and going to the toilet, he almost lay on the bed, looking up at the beams above his head. Sometimes a beam of sunlight would shine in, and he would stare at the dust floating in the light.

He didn't know how long he had been here, and he was almost going crazy.

Tears streamed down his face. He grasped the corner of Yan Huaiming's clothes, looked up at him, and called him with trust and attachment, "Teacher."

How ironic.

"Did you forget something?" Yan Huaiming asked.

Zong Zhenglin realized belatedly that he was frightened. He trembled and clutched the corner of Yan Huaiming's clothes tightly. He knelt in front of him and said, "Teacher, I was wrong, I was wrong..."

"It's Zhao Xuzhen!" he shouted. "It's that treacherous minister Zhao Xuzhen! He forced me, he forced me, teacher!"

Yan Huaiming remained motionless, his expression expressionless, and his tone calm, "I've read the handwritten letter you wrote to Erdun."

"I have devoted all my energy to you. I know you are a piece of rotten wood, but I still take the trouble to carve you into shape. I hope that even if you are not outstanding, you can still be a qualified emperor, and at least prevent your people from being invaded by foreign tribes."

"How dare you collude with the Liao people? No matter how much fighting there is in the Central Plains, the Yan family will never interfere. The world is always united and divided, and divided and united. The change of imperial power is a common occurrence."

"But do you know what will happen if the Liao invade? Our entire nation will be enslaved."

"Why are you crying?" He finally lowered his head to look at him, but his expression was stern. He said, "Are you crying for yourself, or for your people, for the officials who have supported you so hard?"

Yan Huaiming pulled Zong Zhenglin up and walked outside. The sun was even brighter outside, and Zong Zhenglin's eyes, which had not seen the light for a long time, were so painful that they were almost bursting. Yan Huaiming dragged him all the way up to the Zhaixing Tower and to the highest point.

He threw him in front of the railing. Zong Zhenglin lay on the ground, panting and crying like a dog. Yan Huaiming walked forward again, pulled him up by his collar, and asked him to stand in front of the railing to overlook the entire Shangjing.

"You were once the master of this land, you were the emperor!" Yan Huaiming finally lost his composure and roared, "Are you worthy of your status? Are you worthy of your subjects?"

He exhaled and asked him, "Are you worthy of me?"

He had a quarrel with Yan Chongfu over him and got caught in the rain and became sick. The next day, while he was still lying in bed, he received a letter from Seventeen. He looked at the paper against the window for a long time. The ink was special and the words could only be seen at a specific angle. His eyes hurt from reading in the sunlight. He read very slowly, word by word, sentence by sentence.

He read every word correctly, and the student he assisted wholeheartedly asked Erdun to buy his life.

He took the bowl of medicine that Yunzhi handed to him. It was so bitter that he almost vomited.

It was so painful. All the hard work he had put into him over the years turned out to be so ridiculous.

Zong Zhenglin could only tremble and cry, he couldn't say a word.

Yan Huaiming suddenly felt that it was meaningless. He released his strength, and Zong Zhenglin slid down the pillar and sat on the ground.

Yan Huaiming took out a short knife from his arms, which was somewhat similar to the one he gave to Chu Yanning. He made it himself when he was nineteen years old and gave it to his first student.

He threw the knife in front of Zong Zhenglin and said, "Zhang Zheng died for your country."

"Today is his seventh day. You will die for him here."

Zong Zhenglin stopped crying. He stared at the dagger with wide eyes, "No..."

"No," he finally spoke again, crawling to Yan Huaiming's side, "spare me, I don't want to die, I don't want to die!"

He wanted the Zong Zheng family's centuries-old legacy to continue and his name to be recorded in history books.

What had he done wrong? The Yan family was too powerful, their reach too far, which emperor wouldn't be wary of them?

He looked up at Yan Huaiming, begging for his forgiveness. The sunlight above his head was brilliant. In this brilliant light, he recalled a long time ago when a long palace road stretched out from two red walls. He ran on it, and it seemed that there was no end. A eunuch standing by the road lifted his foot, and he tripped and fell to the ground. The palm of his hand was broken and bleeding, and it was covered with dust particles.

He lay on the ground crying with his hands clasped in his arms, while the palace maids and eunuchs laughed and played behind him.

Zhao Xuzhen controlled the government, and he was just a puppet. Even the palace servants could bully him at will.

At the end of the long street in the distance, a figure in a white robe appeared. He was very tall, wearing a jade crown, and walked towards him at a leisurely pace.

He stopped in front of him, and in front of him were the corners of his white clothes and shoes, which were very clean.

He squatted down, and the corner of his clothes dragged on the ground, covered with dust.

He wiped his dirty face with his sleeve and held out his hand to him again.

He carefully placed his scarred and dusty hands on it with tearful eyes.

His hands were big, dry and warm.

He took him by the hand and walked in front of the group of palace maids and eunuchs. He handed him a short knife and taught him to hold it in his hand.

He kicked the eunuch's knee again, forcing him to kneel down. He then grabbed his hands from behind, preventing him from moving. He pointed at the eunuch's heart and said, "This is my first lesson, Your Majesty."

"First, those who commit crimes against their superiors must be punished."

"Secondly, the simplest ways to kill someone are to cut their throat or stab their heart."

"The heart meridian is right here."

His hands were shaking as he held the knife. He stepped back, shaking his head. "I can't do this. I can't do this..."

He said, "You are the emperor, what's wrong with killing a man?"

Yes, he is the emperor.

He wants Yan Huaiming to die, what's wrong with that?

He knelt down and begged him desperately, but he didn't care about their friendship at all and just coldly admired his ugly appearance.

He reached behind him and touched the dagger. The blade was sharp and cut his finger. He reached down to the handle and gripped it tightly.

He is the emperor, whoever he wants to die cannot live.

He got up and rushed towards Yan Huaiming at a speed he had never experienced in his life.

Before he could lower the sharp knife he had raised high, a feather arrow pierced his chest from behind.

He fell to the ground and the knife fell in the distance. He saw a woman standing at the other end of the Zhaixing Tower. She put down the bow and arrow in her hand and smiled at Yan Huaiming.

She said: "When shooting an arrow, your shoulders should be heavy, your hands should be steady, the bowstring should be fully drawn, and you should shoot without hesitation.

Be quick and be accurate."

"I remember everything."

"Teacher, is my archery up to standard?"

Yan Huaiming looked at her from afar.

"Yes."