This disease cannot be cured, it must be cured

Song Chunjing pushed him away violently.

The prince couldn't use his strength with one hand, and he was defenseless, so he broke out.

Song Chunjing took two steps back, bowed his head hastily, "I will take my leave."

The prince took two steps forward, trying to hold him back, "Wait."

Song Chunjing quickly retreated a few steps, avoiding the hand.

Then he turned around and walked away in a hurry without stopping for a moment.

Wu Da stood guard by the door, and when he saw him come out in a hurry, he said hello, "Physician Song?"

Song Chunjing didn't seem to hear, stepped down the steps in two steps, and walked away without stopping for a moment.

He looked as if the two had quarreled, but not quite.

Song Chunjing's back was flustered and hurried, as if he was running away.

Wu Da asked inside through the door, "Your Highness, are you still going out today?"

The prince stayed inside for a while, and the room seemed to be filled with a sweet and ambiguous atmosphere. He was immersed in it, and it took him a long time to recover.

"Find someone to come in." He said to the outside.

His voice was still a little hoarse, and Uda was even more confused.

Wu Da thought about the meaning of his words, and explained: "Do you have any orders? Doctor Song left by himself."

The prince stood still, the lines on his broad and thick shoulders were very sharp, with a little sweat, as if there was a dragon singing and a lion's roar hidden under his skin, watching the scene outside.

A face is as sinking as water, and the depths of the pupils are dark and waveless pools.

With his lips slightly parted, he said, "Take him home first."

This is much easier to understand, Wu Da responded, and immediately sent someone to prepare a carriage to send Song Chunjing off.

When he returned to the door, he looked inside.

The prince still stood where he was.

Wu Da looked at the bandaged gauze on his waist and back, and looked at the many messes on the table.

The blood stained on the gauze was very conspicuous, and dark blood was also left in the basin on the table.

It must have been hard just now.

Wu Da asked: "Does Your Highness need someone to wash it?"

The prince silently acquiesced.

A row of maids filed in, some cleaned the floor and tabletops, while others waited aside with warm water.

The maid in charge of washing rolled up her sleeves, twisted the absorbent face towel to [-]% dry with Qianqian's thin hands, carefully avoided the wound, and slowly wiped off the thin sweat on the muscles.

"Just tidy up the things on the table and put them away." He stared at the maid with indifferent eyes, and there was no expression on her handsome and noble face.

The maid was afraid that he would lose his life if he provoked him, so she replied in a very low voice: "Yes."

The maid finished scrubbing and retreated with her things in her hands.

The other people seamlessly handed over and stepped forward to dress the prince.

The movements were slight and quick, and everyone dared not take a breath.

Presumably, all of you colleagues have lived in the Eastern Palace for more than 20 years, and have already cultivated the ability to accurately observe words and emotions.

With just one expression, the prince can tell how he is feeling and whether he should talk more.

Wu Da stepped forward and told him to keep his footsteps as light as possible, and his voice was also very weak: "Your Highness, the Ministry of Rites is here."

The prince was fully dressed, and took a last look at the medicine box placed on the table.

He cherishes his medicine box very much, and he can let him leave the medicine box here, as if he is some kind of scourge.

The prince let out a sigh of relief.

Forget it, he thought, take your time.

The Ritual Department, the most leisurely among the six, is finally going to be busy for a while.

In the early morning, he received the imperial edict, and now it was only near dusk, and he had already started planning for the enthronement ceremony.

Zhao Yicai, Shangshu of the Ministry of Rites, led his servant to the East Palace to inquire about the details of the enthronement ceremony.

When the emperor ascended the throne, he presided over it. Unexpectedly, he could survive two generations of monarchs.

Not only did he live longer than the emperor, but he was also able to preside over the enthronement ceremony again. This supreme honor has never been given to the second person.

He and his servant waited in the study for about a stick of incense, when the door opened, the prince walked in.

Zhao Yicai quickly knelt down and asked with concern: "I heard that His Highness is treating the wound, can the body still hold on?"

When the prince thought of Song Chunjing who had fled in a hurry, his face became even more ugly.

With a serious face, he said, "It won't last long."

Zhao Yicai was just asking politely, doing his best as a courtier, but unexpectedly the crown prince was outspoken.

The meaning in these words is clearly saying: If you have something to say, hurry up and get out of here.

What should be said is still to be said, Zhao Yicai said cautiously: "Then Wei Chen will speak quickly, let's go straight to the point."

The prince sat on the chair, picked up a book and opened it, while reading the book, with a sullen face, he nodded casually.

Zhao Yicai organized the language well and skipped directly to the day of the enthronement ceremony: "First of all, we have to worship the Taimiao and the Sheji Altar, and then go to the Temple of Heaven to worship the heaven and the earth, oh..."

He paused and explained: "The special sacrificial clothing will be tailored by the ceremonial priest later. It will take half a month before it is made, and it can be worn during the grand ceremony."

"Does it have to be half a month?" the prince asked.

Zhao Yicai thought for a while, and glanced at the servant who kept recording with a pen, "Perhaps... it will take twelve days at the earliest."

"No," said the prince, "can't it be later? Can it be done in a month?"

Zhao Yicai: "..."

I've only seen one who thought it was too late to ascend the throne, but I haven't seen one who still delays time.

"Why do you want to postpone it?" He asked sincerely.

Since he asked, there is room for maneuver.

The prince said solemnly: "I haven't found out whether King Li forced the palace, and my father is still sick and can't get out of bed. I really don't have the mood to go to the ceremony."

ouch.

Zhao Yicai was moved by the prince's loyalty, benevolence and filial piety, and immediately bowed to him.

"Prince Chunxiao is my great fortune!"

"Is it okay for a month?" The prince interrupted his compliment and asked, "Or a month and a half."

He put one hand on the table, holding a writing brush, and kept trying to figure out the smooth barrel, while the other hand was hanging by his side, motionless.

"Just set it up for a month."

Zhao Yicai stroked the tip of his gray beard: "It's not good if you delay for too long, I'm afraid there will be trouble."

The crown prince nodded, which was his consent.

So Zhao Yicai continued: "Come down from the Temple of Heaven, change into a formal dress, pay homage to the Empress Dowager, kneel down three times and kowtow nine times. After the ceremony, go to the Hall of Central Harmony to receive salutes from the ministers of the inner court."

"It's over." The prince heaved a sigh of relief.

"Then go to the Hall of Supreme Harmony, where the great scholar presents the imperial seal and congratulates the congratulatory speech. The princes and ministers salute, kneel down three times and kowtow nine times. Banquet. After the ceremony, you can go back to the palace."

The prince nodded his head, indicating that he listened.

Zhao Yicai glanced at the servant, and the servant memorized them one by one. He continued to read: "When you arrive at the palace, above the main hall, Wanchen will go to congratulate you again. The process will be completed, and the edict will be announced to the world after nine days."

"Lao Shangshu is here." The prince put down his pen and stood up.

Zhao Yicai saw that he seemed to be leaving, so he immediately stepped forward to block his direction, "Also, after the enthronement ceremony is over, there is still a harem setting, rewarding the titles of the crown princess and side concubine, and then setting the first stage of the show." Choose the time, do you need to build a new hall, do you need to move all the things in the East Palace, how to arrange it..."

Prince: "..."

He only felt that Naoren'er was in extreme pain, and immediately waved his hand to stop him from continuing to chant sutras.

"Just move the Chunjiao Palace in without any difference, and the rest," the prince said, "you can figure it out."

Zhao Yicai: "..."

I've never heard that the emperor's relocation was decided by his courtiers!

Zhao Yicai almost jumped up.

The prince bypassed him and walked out.

"Your Highness must not be casual..." Zhao Yicai chased him out, "Listen to a few more words, listen to a few more words!"

The prince could only feel the flies flying around him, making a constant buzzing sound.

He waved his hand back, "If you can't be the master, then go to the back," he said casually, "Let's find the side concubine to decide."

Then he walked out without stopping half a step.

Zhao Yicai looked at his back, sighed, and recalled the past.

"It was the same when the first emperor ascended the throne."

He had a gentle smile on his face, "It took me half a month to chase after him before I finally finalized the grand ceremony."

The edict of the Zen position has been announced to the world, so it is inappropriate to call him "emperor", and he can only be called the first emperor.

The servant closed the book and supported the old boss, "My lord, let's..."

Zhao Yicai looked at him and thought for a while, "Then... let's find the side concubine, huh?"

Song Chunjing finally returned home.

It was already evening, and Tai Hospital had already closed get off work.

Father Song waited at the door for a long time before he saw his figure.

The carriage that brought him back was extraordinarily luxurious and familiar, and one could tell at a glance that it was the carriage of the Eastern Palace.

Father Song asked someone to help him, and walked forward to meet him.

Song Chunjing got off the carriage, stood in front of him, and called out, "Father."

Master Song looked him up and down, and found that he was a little darker, and seemed to be a little thinner than before.

But the spirit is not bad.

His old eyelids covered most of his eyes, and also blocked most of his hazy tearful eyes.

"Chunjing'er?" He called out tremblingly.

"Well," Song Chunjing raised his voice and called again, "Father."

Father Song couldn't hold it back, tears filled his eyes, the wrinkles around his eyes were soaked, and a small piece of water was smeared.

Song Chunjing stepped forward to support him, and as soon as he touched his forearm, Father Song grabbed his hand tightly, "You unfilial son, everyone in the East Palace has returned, only you and the crown prince have not returned, father sent someone to How many times have I asked, but without your letter, I almost couldn't live..."

As he spoke, he raised his hand and slapped Song Chunjing on the arm.

He is old, thin, and already in his twilight state.

Although the raised hand was high, it seemed to be patted lightly when it hit the body.

Song Chunjing fell silent, blaming himself for not going home first.

He pursed his lips for a moment, and explained: "My son went to the Tai Hospital to be on duty before he got off work."

Master Song didn't believe it at all, "You must have gone to the Prince's place by taking the carriage in the East Palace."

He looked around him again, "Where's the medicine box?"

Song Chunjing's ups and downs along the way finally returned to his place, and he remembered his medicine box.

There was a little panic expression on his calm face, and he was immediately controlled by him. The moment was very short, if you didn't stare at him carefully, you wouldn't notice the negligible abnormality at all.

Master Song still looked at him and waited for him to speak.

Song Chunjing smiled: "When I encountered something, I went to the Imperial Hospital first, and then I went to the East Palace to ask for it, so I went to bandage the prince's wound, so I came back a bit late."

"My son came back late, I'm worrying you." He stepped forward and hugged Master Song.

The body in the arms is not as tall as when he was young, and the circle between the arms is very thin.

Master Song reached out to wipe away his tears, but was speechless.

The setting sun was about to dip below the horizon, stretching the figures of the two people for a long, long time. After a while, it finally sank, and the sky dimmed in an instant.

Song Chunjing helped him into the courtyard.

The boy next to him said: "The master has been unable to sleep for many days, and today he can finally rest his pillow."

Master Song took a deep breath and showed a sad smile that hadn't completely faded away.

Song Chunjing: "There is also a well-prepared tranquilizer in the room, and I will go to bed after eating and drinking."

Master Song nodded, his eyes reluctant to turn away.

He opened it for a while, then narrowed his eyes reluctantly.

"Let's have dinner together tonight." Song Chunjing grabbed his hand and massaged the acupoints on his head. "My son will tell you what happened in the past few days."

"Well, good, good." Father Song nodded with red eyes, crying and laughing.

He grabbed Song Chunjing, poked his head and asked quietly: "I heard that the emperor has become a crown prince, and he has ignored political affairs?"

In my own home, I don't have to be so careful.

Song Chunjing looked at his extremely cautious appearance, and said with relief: "It will take at least a month for the crown prince to ascend the throne. During this period, the prince is still on the surface."

Master Song snorted, and he was a little relieved seeing that he didn't take it seriously at all.