L.F-Hist.Novelist Chapter 57 The Bond Between Ruler and Subject
Chapter 57 The Bond Between Ruler and Subject
Cheng Yaojin was taken aback, but then he understood perfectly.
This is hardly a punishment. It's clearly His Majesty showing consideration for his old brother, raising the issue high but letting it fall lightly, deliberately showing leniency and favoritism.
He chuckled immediately, making no attempt to feign politeness: "Two bolts of silk? Fine! I accept the punishment willingly!"
"What, you think it's too light? How about adding two more?" Li Shimin teased him, raising an eyebrow.
"No, no, no! It's just right! It's not light at all!"
Cheng Yaojin quickly waved his hand to stop him, then rubbed his hands together and leaned closer, revealing a greedy and ingratiating look, like a naughty child asking his older brother for snacks, speaking in a dejected tone.
"Your Majesty, you've taken all that fine wine. Couldn't you at least leave half a jar for this old minister? I finally got my hands on a jar, and before I could even have a proper sip, you took the whole jar away. It's such a loss!"
"Don't even think about it. Not even half a jar, not even a fraction of a drop."
Li Shimin didn't budge an inch and simply refused, with a hint of childishness in his tone, as if he were deliberately teasing him.
"That wine is indeed of the highest quality; both Guanyinbi and I have tasted it. If you're craving some, go to the farm and ask Wang Zhi for more; don't try to get something from me."
Cheng Yaojin's eyes lit up instantly, and he immediately stepped forward: "Does Your Majesty mean that I can now openly go to the farm to freeload on drinks?"
Li Shimin did not reply directly. Instead, he turned back to his desk, took a slow sip of tea, and then glanced at him sideways, his tone carrying a hint of solemn admonition.
Besides, there was also a hint of strictness about not allowing any recklessness: "Let me make this clear from the beginning, you are not allowed to mention my identity in front of Wang Zhihuan. Don't take advantage of our old friendship to cause him trouble."
Cheng Yaojin patted his chest and assured him confidently, "Your Majesty, rest assured! I have long instructed the brothers Chu Mo and Chu Liang to only acknowledge the Duke of Lu's mansion in front of Wang Langjun and never mention a single word about the palace."
That young man was also very perceptive. Even though he knew we came from a noble family, he treated us like ordinary people, without any obsequiousness or flattery. It was very comfortable being around him.
As he spoke, a genuine admiration arose in his voice: "Your Majesty, to be honest, I have lived most of my life and have seen countless scions of noble families, scholars and celebrities, but I have never seen such a pure-hearted young man."
He is neither arrogant nor humble, tending his few acres of land and his distillery, living a peaceful and stable life, without any scheming or currying favor. That's rare!
Li Shimin nodded slightly, a hint of appreciation flashing in his eyes. His tone softened, the playful reproach from before gone: "I value his pure and composed nature."
I do not want him to become overly polite and obsequious after he learns of his imperial identity; nor do I want those people in the court to set their sights on him too early and disturb the peace of his farm.
Let him farm and brew wine freely, living a peaceful life. It's good for both him and me. If that child encounters any difficulties, you should help him out.
Cheng Yaojin nodded repeatedly, then his eyes darted around before he tentatively asked, "What about the other old comrades in the court... should we keep it from them?"
"Of course, we have to keep it a secret!"
Li Shimin glared at him, his tone carrying a childlike fear of losing the good wine, just like Cheng Yaojin's, "Especially Yuchi Gong's loud voice! If he finds out, the whole of Chang'an will be talking about it in less than three days."
When those old bastards swarm the farm, they'll trample the doorstep flat, and neither of us will get a single sip of wine!
Cheng Yaojin immediately agreed wholeheartedly, looking protective of his food, as if he had reached a consensus with his ally: "Yes, yes, yes! We absolutely cannot let Yuchi Laoheizi know!"
That old scoundrel drinks like a cow; even the best wine is wasted on him.
"We're not doing this out of selfishness to protect the wine; we're protecting Wang Zhihuan's peace and quiet, so he won't be bothered by these old guys taking turns nagging him!"
Li Shimin couldn't help but chuckle as he watched the boy so earnestly guarding his food and trying to find respectable reasons for it.
These old buddies, bound by blood, are ruler and subject in court, but in private, they're always bickering and joking. They always want to show off anything good they have. Then again, sometimes, men's happiness is that simple.
A moment later, Cheng Yaojin grinned again, rubbing his hands together as he planned to have his son take more meat to the farm to help Wang Zhihuan manage the winery.
As he spoke, he bent over and backed away, then turned back at the door, pointing to his thigh, which was still throbbing from the kick, and tentatively asked with a pitiful expression, "Your Majesty, can I... also go to the farm to mooch some drinks in the future? Mainly, I want to see that child."
Li Shimin didn't even raise his head, and simply uttered a single word: "Get lost."
"Yes, Your Majesty!" Cheng Yaojin responded quickly and retreated in a flash, without the slightest delay.
After Cheng Yaojin left, the imperial study fell silent. Li Shimin sat behind his desk, looking at the empty teacup, and couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle softly.
People say that emperors, who sit on the throne, rule the world, and are worshipped by thousands, enjoying unparalleled glory.
But only he himself knew that the throne of the emperor was the most lonely and desolate place. The court was full of sycophants and flatterers. Everyone respected the majesty of the dragon throne, not him, Li Shimin.
The reason he didn't become completely isolated was precisely because he had Cheng Yaojin and his old brothers who had fought alongside him on the battlefield.
There's no need to put on airs like an emperor, no need to be on guard all the time. You can bicker and sulk, act childishly and be possessive of your food and play mind games. There's sincerity, friendship, and a down-to-earth atmosphere, without a trace of courtly hypocrisy.
This carefree and unrestrained spirit is something that the entire court of officials can never provide.
It was precisely because he was immersed in the formalities and flattery of the court every day that he became increasingly unwilling to reveal his imperial identity in front of Wang Zhihuan.
He didn't want to see the man suddenly kneel in fear and fawn over him; he didn't want the once simple and peaceful farm to become cautious and full of flattery.
He only wanted to be an ordinary passerby, sitting by the edge of the field or under the eaves, listening to a few simple and honest words, and seeing a genuine and humble nature.
In the palace, he was the emperor, high above all others, and all he heard were flattering words, each one concealing calculation and ingratiation.
At Wang Zhihuan's farm, he is just an ordinary person who loves farming and wine, and you can hear the most down-to-earth everyday conversations.
I want to see the most vibrant human moments and gain a pure emotional value that is free from utilitarianism, opportunism, and flattery.
This equality and authenticity, unburdened by status, is a priceless treasure that can never be found in the magnificent palace.
He got up and walked to the window, gazing into the distance. Beyond the imperial city, the official road meandered into the lush greenery; in that direction lay Lantian County, where Wang Zhihuan's farm was located.
Li Shimin suddenly recalled his last incognito visit, where the young man squatted on the edge of the field, calmly describing how the rice stalks were divided into rows. He didn't try to please anyone, nor did he pretend to be profound; he was simply content with his lot and lived a peaceful life.
That clarity and serenity was the tranquility he had always longed for but could never attain while on the throne.
A sense of anticipation stirred within him. He wondered what new and unusual items the young man would bring out, what exquisite wine he would brew, or what stunning poems he would compose on his next visit to the farm.
He continued to travel incognito, carrying only a pot of tea, sitting quietly and chatting, never revealing his imperial identity, and never disturbing the tranquility of the countryside. The young man had his own peaceful world, needing not to be embroiled in the turmoil of the court and the world of mortals.
Outside the window, the sun had risen high in the sky; the warm early summer sun of the ninth year of the Zhenguan era bathed the mountains and rivers.
Outside Chang'an city, smoke curls from farmhouses, courtyard gates are half-open, Ah Huang lies lazily dozing under a jujube tree, a raccoon dog frolics on a rock, and the vast rice paddies of Zhancheng surge with green waves, stretching all the way to the foot of the green mountains.
In the mundane world, amidst rural life and imperial court, countless connections and stories are just beginning to unfold.