Jia Cong flew thirty-three days away again. The clouds really looked like cotton candy...
It only takes about ten more flutters to fly to the Tushita Palace. The Nine Turns Golden Pill is right in front of you. Come on, Jia Xiaosan, you are the fattest!
Huh? Why haven't I made any progress after struggling for a long time?
"This kid is fat again!"
Liu Heng picked up the fat little black man and let him hold his hands and feet.
The fourth prince Liu Hong squatted in front of the confused Jia Cong, listened carefully to the drunken words in the little fat man's mouth, and showed a strange expression: "Father, Brother Cong is still mumbling about the Nine Turns Golden Pill, the Laojun of Tushita Palace and so on... …”
"Tushita Palace? Nine Transformations Golden Pill? I know, I know, it's Jingli's latest novel "Journey to the West"!"
The naughty kid Liu Shuo came over immediately and listened...
Jia Cong grabbed his face and pinched it: "Hey, Li Goudan... No, Nezha, are you here to steal Taishang Laojun's golden elixir? Come on, let's go to the Heavenly Palace together!" "
The old man looked at the messy Taiye Pond, and the veins on his forehead kept beating.
The drunken Jia Cong and others had their heads knocked off and thrown to the parents of each family.
Jia Cong was carried to the palace gate, lying on Master Pardon's back in a daze, staring at the full moon in the sky, as if looking for the shadow of Tushita Palace in the full moon.
There were many people who drank too much at the palace banquet. The civil servants and military generals who used to quarrel with each other were now hugging each other in front of the palace gate. Many civil servants were reciting poems and composing poems, and there were endless poems about the Mid-Autumn Festival.
The confused Jia Cong suddenly pointed at the full moon and started singing.
"The Mid-Autumn Moon. The moon is bright and clear in the Mid-Autumn Festival. It is bright and clear, you know how many moons there are, and the clouds and sunny days are waxing and waning.
There is no need to talk about the waxing and waning of clouds and sunshine, and we are happy to have a good time in the world. It's a good time, I hope you can see the Mid-Autumn Festival every year. "
Several old men who were chatting with Mr. She suddenly looked at the fat little black man fluttering on Jia She's back in surprise.
Strangely, Jia Enhou’s son is writing poetry again!
The British Duke Zhang Yue slapped Jia She on the shoulder: "Hou Enhou, I seem to have heard your son compose a Mid-Autumn Festival poem!"
Feng Tang looked at his son Feng Ziying, who had his mouth wide open, and stepped forward and whispered: "Old Duke, it doesn't seem like it, it's true. I think it's better than those sour Confucian poems!"
The other warriors around nodded their heads...
"I feel the same way..."
"Me too!"
Ha ha ha ha……
"Where is Mrs. Wei Laopi? Have you left?"
Zhang Yue immediately grabbed Jia She's arm, his usual majesty was gone, and he pulled Jia She in a flamboyant way towards the civil servants.
Wei Qinghe, the chief minister of the cabinet, finally got better. At this time, he had just sat on the sedan chair and was about to go home. The sedan chair was surrounded by officials of all sizes when he suddenly heard loud laughter from the side.
"Old man Wei, come and see Wenquxing from our vulgar martial arts family!"
Many officials were interrupted by laughter from flattering the chief minister. Just as they were about to scold him, they turned around and saw the old man in a python robe and jade belt, dragging the Hun Jia She over.
The little fat man on Jia She's back was still showing his teeth and claws, muttering about heavenly soldiers and generals, chickens and dogs, causing trouble in the heavenly palace and so on...
Wei Qinghe looked gently at the Wu Xun team that was squeezing over, nodded and said, "Open your head, is there a Wenqu star in your family?"
Boom!
Zhang Yue hit Jia Cong on the head. The confused Jia Cong grabbed his finger and opened his mouth to bite it.
"You can't eat this..."
Avoiding Jia Cong's white teeth, Zhang Yue pinched his chubby face and said, "My dear grandnephew, please say the Mid-Autumn Festival poem again..."
"Royal Cat Jia Cong, O Enhou, this child of yours composed a Mid-Autumn Festival poem?"
Mr. Wei immediately became interested. The little fat man had done some amazing poetry before.
It is said that the poems given by God to conquer the country surpassed all the sages in the garden.
Even though Jia She was fighting against the sky and the earth, when facing Wei Qinghe, his momentum was obviously much weaker. This person has ascended to the position of first assistant three times.
Li is full of great sages in the world.
"Xiang Wei, this kid did sing a Mid-Autumn Festival poem just now. I don't know if he composed it himself."
"Yeah?"
Wei Qinghe's interest became more intense, and when he was about to ask more questions, he saw Jia Cong on his back grinning at him.
"Laojun, Laojun, have you finished practicing the golden elixir? Give me a gourd, and I'll trade it with you for the roast duck!"
Wei Qinghe looked down at his long white beard and laughed.
He thought of the fruits and snacks just given by the palace, found the largest and roundest Shanshan melon (Hami melon), patted it and said: "Good boy, do you want such a big golden elixir? Take the Mid-Autumn Festival poem you just wrote. Just think about it and I will give it to you.”
"Mid-Autumn Festival? It turns out that gods also celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival!"
Jia Cong's eyes were now filled with nine-turn golden elixirs that were as big as a cantaloupe. He racked his brains to remember when he had written Mid-Autumn Festival poems.
What should I do if I can’t remember? Then make another one...copy one!
"Qionglou Yuyu. It is clear that it is not affected by the heat of the human world. It is not ordinary. But tonight, all the colors are the same."
Su'e read all the modern and ancient books. Why don't you stop and listen to what I have to say. Back then, I danced with shadows. Although wonderful songs are passed down, what kind of people are there after all? "
The words were good words. All the civil servants and generals around looked at the little fat man on Jia She's back in surprise.
Wei Qinghe himself was a well-read poet, so he naturally recognized that this word was indeed a new one.
But the meaning of this word really doesn't fit with this little fat man.
He commented: "The writing style is flowing, ethereal and clear, showing the desire for reunion during the Mid-Autumn Festival. Of the poems I have heard today, this is the best!"
"My lord, Brother Cong just composed this song, not this one!"
Wei Qinghe looked at the young man who spoke in surprise. Feng Tang quickly stepped forward and clasped his fists, saying, "Master, this is Quanzi Ziying."
"A good young man from General Shenwu's family, he has the style of a general."
Wei Qinghe praised him with a smile and asked, "Does the young general remember what Yu Mao did before?"
Feng Ziying was also a man of both civil and military skills. She was good at poetry. After some reflection, she compared it with a friend on the side and pieced together the entire poem.
"The Mid-Autumn Moon. The moon is bright and clear in the Mid-Autumn Festival. It is bright and clear, you know how many moons there are, and the clouds and sunny days are waxing and waning.
There is no need to talk about the waxing and waning of clouds and sunshine, and we are happy to have a good time in the world. It's a good time, I hope you can see the Mid-Autumn Festival every year. "
"Good festival, good scene, good words, good wishes!"
Wei Qinghe was full of praise and said four good words in a row.
He waved to Jia She, and after he carried his son up and down, he put his hand on the grinning fat man's head and rubbed his head: "He is a good boy, God has given him his talent!"
Talent is given by nature, this is Mr. Wei's determination of Jia Cong's astounding performance.
This characterization completely suppressed the whispers around him. In fact, ever since Jia Cong slapped many literati in Liangyuan with his poems, voices saying that he plagiarized others have not stopped.
It's a pity that these poems by Jia Cong were all written by poets in previous lives and have not appeared in this life.
Therefore, rumors are just rumors. Today, the leader of the literary world and the prime minister of Great Xia define heaven as a gift. Who dares to say more?
Moreover, there is still a huge market in the current generation for things like divine wisdom.
There seems to be nothing unusual about a fat little man born in Rongguo Mansion who is gifted with wisdom and talents.
The envy and jealousy in his eyes made Mr. Pardon smile and narrow his eyes, which would make him more energetic to carry the kid on his back.
"Laojun, Laojun, my golden elixir, my golden elixir!"
The old servant serving the old prime minister took the golden Shanshan melon from Wei Qinghe's hand and handed it to Jia Cong.
The little fat man held the huge pumpkin in his arms happily, and he opened his mouth to swallow it...
Why is this golden elixir so bitter?
Jia Cong looked at the white-bearded old man with resentment. Wei Qinghe was stunned and said, "Good boy, go home and peel it before eating it. It will be more delicious!"
"Is there such a thing?"
Jia Cong held the golden melon in confusion and nodded. He rubbed his head against the pardon master's temples: "Dad
, hurry back home, my son has obtained the golden elixir from Laojun, we and I will go home and eat the golden elixir, and we will ascend for thirty-three days! "
"Where's my big golden elixir?"
Jia Cong slept all night holding the golden melon. When he woke up in the morning, he stared at the golden melon in confusion for a while without reacting. .z.br>
Cantaloupe is quite delicious, but how can it compare to the Nine Turns Golden Pill?
He carefully thought about last night's experience, barbecue, drinking, worshiping...
Then I seemed to have gone to thirty-three days again. First, I made trouble with Li Goudan, and then I met the white-bearded Taishang Laojun...
By the way, Laojun asked him to write some Mid-Autumn Festival poems in exchange for a huge Ninety Turns Golden Pill...
So, where is Laojun? Where is the golden elixir?
Jia Cong sat cross-legged on the bed, staring at the melon in his arms in a daze.
I drank it all!
The door opened with a creak, and Mr. Pardon walked in with his hands behind his back. As soon as he entered the door, he walked to the bed and slapped his good son on the head.
"San'er, let's go, daddy will take you to see the world!"
Jia Cong was unmoved, staring stupidly at the melon in his arms...
"Dad, where did this melon come from?"
The corners of Mr. Pardon's mouth twitched. His son seemed a little silly last night. Would you like to help him recall it?
After the Pardon Master finished recalling what happened to Jia Cong, the little fat man covered himself with a blanket and refused to go out to meet people.
"Dad, my son deeply feels that he is not knowledgeable enough. He plans to study hard for a while. If you are going out to visit relatives and friends, please take Brother Bao with you!"
Just as the little fat man and Master Pardon were fighting for the blanket, Baoyu rushed in furiously.
"Brother Cong, get up quickly, get up quickly, and help me see if what I copied is correct? Ah, uncle..."
I saw Baoyu holding up the paper in his hand, and what was written on it were the two poems written by Jia Cong last night.
Immediately afterwards, there was chattering and frolicking in the small courtyard. Jia She nodded to Baoyu, transformed into a majestic old man again, touched Baoyu's head and left the house.
Forget it, I'm a thin-skinned kid, let's take him out to show off the baby in two days!
In front of the civil and military officials of the court, Jia Cong drunkenly wrote lyrics in front of the palace gate, which won the approval and praise of the Grand Prime Minister.
After a night of brewing, this news finally became one of the most popular gossips in the capital on the morning of August 16th, second only to the rumor that the Eastern Palace General would be established.
Daiyu was used to it. She and Jia Cong were childhood sweethearts, and she knew exactly what kind of person the little fat man was.
The little fat man had told her before that he had dreamed of another world, and Daiyu agreed with what the Grand Prime Minister said about talents being taught by heaven.
"It's a pity that Brother Cong can't compose poems when he's sober..."
Baoyu carefully copied two Mid-Autumn Festival poems again, sighed with regret, and stared resentfully at the little fat girl who was teased by the girls.
Why is it Little Fatty Red? I was embarrassed by being teased by my sisters.
"Third Master, there is an imperial edict from the palace. I want you and Second Master Bao to go to the front yard quickly."
The little maid reported as she wished, thus rescuing Jia Cong from the clutches of her sisters, and rushed out of the courtyard with the resentful Baoyu.
Whether it is an imperial edict or not is not important to Baoyu at all.
Seeing that he was about to reach the front yard, he still had a resentful expression, like a resentful woman in a deep house, and said quietly: "Brother Cong, I'll treat you to a drink."
Jia Cong trembled and begged for mercy: "Hey, Brother Bao, isn't it just poetry? I'll copy it for you when you have some time... and write a few. Don't look at me like that, it's so scary!"
The green smoke on the incense table swirled in the wind. Jia Zheng patted Jia Cong on the shoulder happily and left the front yard with Baoyu and other male heirs.
Jia Cong looked at the bright yellow imperial edict in his hand, and looked doubtfully at Master Pardon who was seeing off his servant.
"Dad, do we have the Sixth Prince of the East Palace in Daxia? What kind of official is this prince, Zuowei Lie, my son?"
The Pardon Master took the imperial edict from his son and marveled.
He explained: "Back then, neither your father nor I had ever served as officials of the Sixth Army of the East Palace. I didn't expect that you, the boy, would have set a precedent. The Sixth Army of the East Palace has not been established since the Taizong Dynasty. The last prince, Zuowei, was still Taizu. Towards the end."
"According to the old system, the six guards in the Prince's East Palace are divided into the Prince's left and right guards, the Prince's left and right Si Yu, and the Prince's left and right Qingdao. Each of the three to five guards will lead the army."
"In the East Palace, the prince's left and right guards lead the mansion, and the prince's left and right inner commanders lead the mansion but not the soldiers. These are the personal soldiers directly under the prince and are under his direct control."
"The left and right guards have one person each, the fourth rank, and the left and right guards have one person each, the fourth rank, responsible for the military affairs and security of the prince's east palace."
"The left and right chief historians each have one person, who is the seventh rank, and is responsible for judging all Cao and government affairs. There is one person who records affairs and military affairs, and is in charge of seals. There is one person each from Cang Cao's military affairs, Bing Cao's military affairs, Zhou Cao's military affairs, and Qi Cao's military affairs, all from the eighth rank. They are in charge of civil official records, military officer records, equipment, public affairs and other items."
The Pardon Master finished explaining the old system of the Sixth Prince of the East Palace in one breath, and sighed: "San'er, the Sixth Prince of the East Palace has not yet been established. It seems that the Second Saint has high expectations for the Fourth Highness! But the Fourth Highness has the demeanor of the former prince. , both the Saint and His Majesty have high hopes. Last night, the Second Saint asked the most important disciples of the clan to accompany His Majesty the Fourth Highness to toast. Although the restoration of the Sixth Prince of the East Palace is shocking, it is also expected."
Jia Cong nodded. The scene in Fengtian Palace last night was still vivid in his mind. The words of Liu Yuan and others in Longshou Palace were still in his ears. The important princes in the clan may have received the decree of the Second Saint and strongly recommended The fourth prince Liu Hong entered the East Palace.
He was a little uneasy. Since ancient times, taking sides has been a dangerous job. Even if the future prince's position is very stable, what about the first prince? Wasn't Ning Rongjia's family almost destroyed?
The old Dragon King is still sitting in the Dragon Head Palace, but he actually planted the young dragon seedlings?
"What should my son do?"
"Are you scared?"
Master Pardon was not as worried as Jia Cong, but laughed.
"Do you know what Wei Qinghe said to the saint when he paid homage to the prime minister again in the 49th year of Zhaowu?"
Jia Cong shook his head in confusion, and heard Master Pardon mysteriously say in his ear: "What a great saint, Daxia can be prosperous for three generations!"
"Otherwise, why do you think the saint left Liu Fu, who he had doted on for more than twenty years, and pushed for the stubborn fourth son with unstable temperament and aloofness to ascend the throne?"
"You must know that the stubborn fourth son almost killed the old man's beloved Zhen with a sword just because Zhen had insulted the Queen Mother Cao..."
Tsk tsk tsk...
I didn't expect such a thing!
Jia Cong was amazed. The Pardon Master led his good son to the Hall of Rongxi and walked slowly, saying: "The Fourth Highness is still young and you are still young. The Second Saint will not give too much power to the East Palace. Therefore. , you have only one task at the moment, to accompany His Highness the Fourth Prince to study and practice martial arts..."
In the Huangji Palace, Liu Hong obediently listened to his father's teachings, while the Supreme Emperor sat beside him.
When the emperor's mouth went dry, the old man nodded and said, "Hong'er, your father's arrangement is very appropriate. There are the Jia family, Zhang family and Cao family on Wu Xun's side. Grandpa will choose a few more people for you on Wen Chen's side. The number of people in the East Palace is about the same."
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