Son of Song Dynasty

Chapter 8 Doesn't hurt much, but is insulting
Being despised by his father for being thin, Zhao Dezhao was a little unconvinced.

Last night, when he was sleeping alone in the study, out of curiosity about his new body, he secretly took off his clothes and examined it in the mirror.

He found that he has a good figure, and [-]% of them meet the healthy aesthetic standards of later generations who "look thin when dressed, and have flesh when undressed".

But Zhao Dezhao also knew that his father was judging by the physique of the warriors killed in battle, not in pursuit of good looks.

In the battle of real swords and guns, it is more practical to be stylish and full of body, but it is not as good as big shoulders, round waist, fat and thick.

Those brave and fierce generals named in the annals of history, such as Guan Zhang, Xu Chu and others, are all strong men like iron towers.

"If your base is not stable, you will be the enemy of ten thousand people!" Zhao Dezhao got up, uttered bold words, and fought again.

"Do you also want to be the enemy of ten thousand people?" Zhao Kuangyin smiled, with a little kind of ridicule.

After all, Zhao Kuangyin is familiar with his son's personality. Although his son seems to have improved in the past two days, Zhao Kuangyin still has no expectations. A stick can teach a person to become a useful person.

Zhao Dezhao didn't answer, but with a suffocation in his heart, he stood up and rushed forward with a stick.

In the third round, Zhao Kuangyin hit Zhao Dezhao's arm with a stick. Zhao Dezhao held back the pain with a breath in his chest, and did not let go of the stick. .

"Well done! This is what it looks like!" Zhao Kuangyin became excited and shouted happily.

Holding sticks in both hands, Zhao Dezhao performed a "snake-seeking posture" and poked Zhao Kuangyin's chest.

Zhao Kuangyin raised the eyebrow stick in his hand horizontally, and was about to pick out the stick in Zhao Dezhao's hand when he suddenly became dizzy and felt dizzy!

Zhao Dezhao was startled when he saw something was wrong, the stick in his hand was going unabated, and it was about to poke his father in the chest.

Dad is not young, so you can't really give him a chest blow!
The situation was urgent and he had no time to think about it, so Zhao Dezhao forcibly let go and dropped his stick on the spot, which was regarded as a voluntary disarm in front of the enemy.

But Zhao Kuangyin has not let go of the eyebrow-aligning stick in his hand.

As a result, Zhao Dezhao, who was empty-handed, would be miserable.

Because Zhao Kuangyin couldn't hold back his strength, the Qimei stick hit his son's right arm firmly, which was much more powerful than the previous "stick slightly rubbing the flesh and hitting until it ends"!
Zhao Dezhao screamed, and instinctively took a step back.

But he immediately resisted the pain, stepped forward to hug his father, and asked repeatedly: "Daddy, are you okay?"

"No... it doesn't matter."

Zhao Kuangyin took a stick to the ground, gasped heavily, and when his blood calmed down, he sighed sadly: "It seems that your father is really old... I rode a horse a few days ago and felt dizzy. After using a few sticks, I became dizzy again."

Zhao Dezhao frowned and didn't answer his father's words.

Judging from his limited knowledge of medical physiology, Zhao Kuangyin's dizziness is not directly related to aging, but is a typical "three high" symptoms: high blood pressure, high blood fat, and high blood sugar.

Just take a look at Zhao Kuangyin's fat iron tower physique that rivals Lu Zhishen's. How could it be possible that at this age, he still doesn't have any problems with "three highs"?

Moreover, Zhao Dezhao has reason to suspect that Zhao Kuangyin's last sudden death in the middle of the night without warning in history may be caused by cerebral hemorrhage caused by "three highs", which is commonly known as "stroke".

Cerebral hemorrhage wants to kill a person, it is too fast and too easy, let you be alive and vigorous in one second, and you will be dead in the next second. From the onset to the death, it only takes a few minutes at the fastest.

But what to do?
Spread the knowledge of the "three highs" to my father, and persuade him to eat a light diet, eat less oil, salt and meat?

In this era, a high-fat, high-salt, high-calorie diet is a symbol of the rich and powerful, especially military officers and soldiers. There is no one who does not like meat.

As far back as Zhao Dezhao could remember, the old man always enjoyed every meal without meat.

So forget it!
Zhao Dezhao felt that if he could have strong eloquence, it would be easier to persuade his father to make him the crown prince now.

"Erlang, your arm isn't hurt, is it?"

Zhao Kuangyin rested for a while, dropped his eyebrow stick, and missed his son's arm.

He looked at Zhao Dezhao with concern in his eyes. Although he didn't say anything, he knew in his heart that the blow his son took was to avoid hurting his father, and it was definitely not light.

"No, it's all right!"

Zhao Dezhao raised his right arm and shook it, forcing a smile on his face, as if nothing had happened, but in fact, the pain was terribly painful, and he wondered whether his father had cracked his arm bone with a stick.

Zhao Kuangyin glanced at him, summoned an accompanying eunuch, and ordered the imperial doctor to treat the wound.

"Father, I really don't mind." Zhao Dezhao still wanted to hold on, trying to maintain his image of a tough guy in front of his father.

Zhao Kuangyin waved his hands and smiled: "The stick I used, can I know whether it is light or heavy? I was dizzy just now, and I didn't pull back in time, so the stick was naturally not light."

Zhao Kuangyin didn't seem to want to finish, so he added: "Thanks to the thinnest stick I used, otherwise you might not be able to keep your arm."

The father and son returned to the Funing Palace bedroom, and after a while, a young imperial physician rushed over with a medicine bag.

The young imperial physician rolled up the sleeve of Zhao Dezhao's right hand, and there was a big bruise on his arm, so he quickly applied the wound medicine to him.

This young imperial doctor may be serving a nobleman for the first time as a fledgling. He seemed very nervous, his movements were erratic, and his hand strength was inaccurate, which made Zhao Dezhao grin his teeth and gasped.

But Zhao Dezhao didn't complain of pain.

Zhao Kuangyin looked at his son with a smile, not knowing whether he was admiring his masterpiece under the stick or his son's pain.

The young imperial physician resigned after finishing his work, Zhao Kuangyin smiled at the corner of his mouth, and said mockingly:
"In front of daddy, if you insist on being a good man and cry out when it hurts, you may not be considered a true husband."

"What kind of disposition have you always been, can daddy not know? You're so good, what are you pretending to be?"

This time, Zhao Dezhao was very embarrassed. Was this beating for nothing?
(End of this chapter)