Da Tang Si Zi: My Six Super Rich Little Nuggets!

Chapter 209: With sharp teeth, she brought together the new king Qiu Rongmu for a romantic relations

The ink marks on the parchment scroll seemed to reveal the mystery: the brocade box that should have contained the luminous pearl from the Western Regions in the golden nanmu wood box now held a saddle inlaid with gold and silver.

The Turkic envoy's scimitar gleamed coldly in the candlelight, and his questioning voice was tinged with the harshness of the desert wind and sand.

Was it a drunken clerk from the Court of State Ceremonial who mistakenly wrote down the names in the register? Or did someone steal the treasures along the ancient camel trail? Or perhaps the Han and non-Han peoples have different names for rare and precious items?

...The truth, like smoke billowing in the wind, transformed into seven phantoms under the yurt. Only Mo Chuo Khan, the wolf who smelled blood, slammed his bronze knuckles heavily on the table, causing ripples to spread in the silver wine pot.

In the past, Mei Xiaosi was awe-inspiring throughout the world. With wisdom and benevolence, he governed the Great Long Kingdom, bringing peace to the world and attracting all nations to pay tribute.

However, after the Empress abdicated, the skies over the Great Cage Kingdom were overcast, plunging it into a period of turmoil and hardship. Of course, Mei Xiaosi knew that nothing in any time or space happens "suddenly"; good and bad fortune are accumulated over time.

In a mere seven years, royal relatives engaged in fierce infighting for the supreme throne, with palace coups erupting more than five times in quick succession. It was never the solemn, peaceful, and serene place the common people perceived; instead, it was a battlefield of bloodshed, where every inch of the palace walls spoke of sorrow and fear…

In the far north, on the vast grasslands, an unignorable Turkic tribe is rising like the sun.

The tribe's leader, Qiu Rongmu, was like the fiercest wolf on the grassland, not only physically strong but also possessing keen insight and boundless ambition.

When he heard the news that the Great Cage was in turmoil, a cunning glint flashed in his deep eyes. He was not a greedy man, but like a beast that had caught the scent of its prey, an irrepressible urge surged within him.

Wait a minute, isn't Qiu Rongmu Xiao Si's wooden older brother? The kind, honest young man who works for Ninth Master?

The north wind swept across the glazed tiles of the nine-layered palace, yet it could not stir the pine-like spine of He Fengyao.

A vivid scene unfolded before the little rhinoceros's eyes...

A bronze mirror frame inlaid with gold slowly pushed aside the curtain, carrying Xiao Si's thoughts. The bronze mirror reflected the silhouette of the Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, his wide sleeves billowing...

Amidst the wisps of smoke exhaled by the gilded incense beast, He Fengyao stood in the golden tent, his wide sleeves billowing like clouds, a silver plaque at his waist reflecting the sunlight of the dome.

This Vice Minister of the Court of State Ceremonies, known for his sharp wit and incisive arguments, could utter witty remarks from the Zuo Zhuan whenever his robe fluttered in the wind.

"In the past, when the Duke of Zhou established the rites, he used black jade from Kunlun Mountain to cast a platform, not to reflect the beauty of a woman's face, but to help the bride understand her true nature." Suddenly, the little rhinoceros heard a clear and melodious sound and was startled awake by the hawk perched in the tent!

"Now the Sage bestows upon the Khan a seven-jeweled saddle, taking the profound meaning from the poem 'Xiao Ya': 'May the virtuous live ten thousand years, and may fortune and prosperity be with him.' This saddle carries the willows of three thousand miles of Longyou and the spring breeze of ninety thousand acres of Central Plains."

Xiao Si caught a glimpse of the wheat ear pattern engraved on the saddle floating in the candlelight, blending with the moonlight on the grassland outside the tent.

Mo Chuo stroked the flowing wheat ear pattern on the carved saddle, and the felt blanket and silver pot suddenly trembled—the pattern actually transformed into the spring water of Chang'an in the palm of Qiu Rongmu, the nomadic lord.

Looking at this old friend with his flowing sleeves, Xiao Si recalled that decades ago, by the Taiye Pond, the young man, then an envoy of the Zhou Dynasty, had once startled the frost and snow in the Turkic king's tent with half a verse of "Qin Feng".

Mochuo Khan stroked the vine-like patterns entwined on his saddle, the bronze candlestick casting a shadow on his angular face. This eagle of the steppe, capable of distinguishing three hundred different grass scents from horseback, now resembled a lost lone wolf trapped in a maze of Chinese characters. The Turks felt a lump in their throats, as if blocked by the snow of the Tianshan Mountains, and beads of sweat seeped from their ruby-studded forehead bands. They had come seeking conflict, but now they were ensnared in a web woven from Han Chinese traditions.

Suddenly, goose-feather snowflakes began to fall outside the tent, gradually accumulating on Feng Yao's crane-feather cloak, like the smoke and clouds draped over half of the "Nymph of the Luo River" painting. The group looked at each other in bewilderment, and finally presented their brilliant theory of "pacifying the world with a saddle" to the Khan's desk amidst the snowflakes.

“The Eternal Heaven bears witness that the Han envoy’s eyes were sharper than those of an eagle.” He grabbed the silver pot and drank deeply, the wine dripping down his bushy beard. “He said the character ‘saddle’ hides peace, but does the character ‘knife’ mean bloodshed?!” Suddenly, the wind outside the felt tent lifted the corner of the curtain, and a tattered page of the Thousand Character Classic swept across the table, stopping right on the phrase “Heaven and Earth are black and yellow.”

However, on this snowy night, the handsome and refined He Fengyao was reciting "How can we say we have no clothes?" with the Turkic royal court, the icicles on his sword reflecting the firelight in the small hut.

"Han envoys are as numerous as the snow on Yinshan Mountain." Mo Chuo untied a gold pendant from his waist and tossed it onto a silver plate. The clinking of the jade ornaments shattered the stagnant twilight. "You are the first to remind this Khan of the peonies of Chang'an."

As dusk settled over the golden tent, He Fengyao's purple robes gradually took on the color of night: "Khan, do you know the weight of the crown in the Central Plains? When Emperor Taizong bestowed the purple-gold crown upon Khan Jieli, it wasn't adorned with pearls, but with the morning bells and evening drums of Chang'an throughout the twelve hours of the day."

At this moment, Xiao Si actually saw that Mo Chuo's cut-off long hair, wrapped around his purple robe and jade belt, transformed into a graceful black bird in the sacrificial fire.

As the sacred fire of the sacrificial ceremony illuminated the night sky over the Chule River, the bamboo slips of the "Rites of Zhou" in Feng Yao's sleeve exuded the fragrance of cypress wood. He looked at Mo Chuo, who was bowing to the south, and suddenly remembered the day he left the border, when Princess Taiping bestowed wine from the Western Regions that rippled with blood in the jade cup—that scarlet hue was now transforming into a long dragon of torches from thousands of subjugated tribes under the starry sky of the grassland.

Xiao Si clearly understood the significance of the interplay between the grape banquet at Princess Taiping's residence and the wildfire that raged across the grasslands.

As the ginkgo leaves of Zhuque Street blanketed the official road of Zhezhou, the former Vice Minister of the Court of State Ceremonies was wiping his dusty waist badge in this malaria-ridden land. In the mottled bronze mirror of the governor's mansion, he could still see himself in the golden tent of yesteryear, his sleeves billowing like clouds—he suddenly burst into laughter, shaking off the dust piled on the beams, startling the clerk outside the door who thought the governor was reciting a new "Frontier Ballad".

A wild ginseng? Its whiskers were like silk, gleaming with an amber luster under the candlelight, which surprised Xiao Si.

The water clock in the Golden Palace ticked away. The young emperor tapped his fingertips lightly on the armrest of his dragon throne, but his gaze was fixed on the wild ginseng in the corner of the palace. The ginseng whiskers meandered in the celadon basin, reminding him of the black hair that fell down when Xiao Si played the zither.

"Mo Chuo, I wish to appoint you as a messenger!" Before the words were finished, a gust of wind outside the palace swept leaves against the vermilion gate, and dewdrops condensed on the slices of wild ginseng slid off. The leaves trembled, as if echoing this earth-shattering statement, reflecting the shocked faces of the assembled officials.

When the news reached the northern desert, Qiu Rongmu was in his golden tent, playing with a century-old wild ginseng. The patterns on the ginseng reminded him of Xiao Si's slightly furrowed brows when she painted—that day atop Chang'an city walls, her rendition of "The Phoenix Seeks Its Mate" drew a hundred birds to pay homage, and even his shadowy figure was softened by the music. The wind outside the tent swept through the ginseng's whiskers, carrying a bitter fragrance, the most precious medicinal herb of the grasslands, yet it couldn't compare to the tremor in his heart caused by a single tear in her eye.

“Promise him.” Qiu Rongmu placed the wild ginseng into the gold-inlaid sandalwood box, glancing again at its intricate patterns. “It’s not for the gilded jewels that come with the dowry, but for the person who can make the wild ginseng take root on the grassland.” He remembered Xiao Si saying that wild ginseng is most spiritually potent, capable of curing all poisons and healing the heart. Now, only that little girl can cure his heartache.

Crabapple blossoms on the walls of Chang'an and cosmos flowers on the grasslands intertwine in the wind, while wild ginseng tendrils spread through the soil of both places...

On her wedding day, the most dazzling item in Xiao Si's dowry was a pot of carefully cultivated wild ginseng.

As her carriage entered the grassland, the ginseng roots swayed gently in the wind, as if paying homage to their new master. The moment Qiu Rongmu lifted the carriage curtain, he saw not a princess in a phoenix coronet and wedding robes, but the adorable girl skiing in the northeastern mountains—but why did her eyes now carry the bitterness of wild ginseng? The instant their eyes met, a radiant smile bloomed on her face, as bright as a Gesang flower.

Wild ginseng tirelessly takes root in the grassland soil day and night, its whiskers intertwining with the black hair of the little rhinoceros playing the zither under the moonlight...