After saving the Empress, I became the top scholar in the imperial examination.

Go to bed early.

Seeing that Qi Cuicui seemed to have given up, Ning Nan gave her a word of advice and ended the friendly talks.

Then, using the strength of his thighs, he slowly stood up, his movements gentle and slow, with all the force concentrated on his legs. The bamboo chair beneath him did not make the usual unpleasant noise.

He didn't find it strange or offensive that women were so curious about him.

After all, I had been lying in a stranger's house for two days, and my body was in such a weak state that I needed to be taken care of in every way, including eating, drinking and using the toilet. I was in a very passive position.

Moreover, the other party has survived such a serious assassination attempt without becoming a nervous wreck or undergoing any personality changes. She's become quite oblivious, unlike an ordinary person. Helping her understand herself better is part of building her sense of security. Consider it a guest therapist role, chatting with the patient and diverting her attention.

I gently opened the door, and my mother's snoring began right on cue in the main room, like a sudden clap of thunder.

Over the years, the mother and son knew that Aunt Ning was an expert at pretending to be asleep. He was willing to bet that his mother's ears were pressed tightly against the wall just now, but he didn't know how much she understood.

He didn't expose her, but assumed she was really asleep. He tiptoed through the main room, returned to his own room, and let out a long yawn.

Before the man left, he did not turn off the lamp in the inner room. Zhu Cuiwei rested her fair wrist under her head, raised her head a little, and puffed out her cheeks slightly. Her bright eyes stared blankly at the orange light on the wall.

She only came to her senses when she heard the door close softly outside, knowing that the man had returned to his room.

Her health was improving, but she would probably need another three days before she could get out of bed. She was initially anxious, not knowing whether the first to come after her recovery would be the Imperial Guards or the assassins who wanted to kill her.

This farming mother and son had no martial arts training and little experience in the martial arts world. They had no idea how many loose ends they might have left behind while rescuing themselves and bringing them home.

Following these clues, both the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the assassins could easily find them.

This is a double-edged sword... One side wants to save her, the other wants to kill her, now it's just a matter of which side is faster.

She wasn't worried about the other "lady" who had also been rescued. After all, the other woman was in cahoots with the assassins, and the Imperial Guards saw her as one of their own, wanting to get information about her whereabouts from her. Neither side would harm her; on the contrary, they would protect her.

Thinking of this, Zhu Cuiwei felt inexplicably angry. "Hoo..." She quietly took a breath and slowly exhaled, her mood somewhat complicated.

Originally, I should have sorted out these thoughts in my mind earlier and come up with a strategy to solve this difficult situation as soon as possible.

For example, now that she can move her hands, she should write a letter by hand during dinner and have Ning secretly take it to the Prince of Jiangning's residence so that the prince can send someone to pick her up as soon as possible.

Although there must be other traitors in the manor besides Ziyuan, since I have been missing, even if it has only been for a day or two, the Chief Secretary, the Grand Tutor, and my elder brother must have realized this. The manor should already be full of my brother's people, and they should have even purged quite a few of them.

but……

Zhu Cuiwei's pink lips parted slightly, her puffed cheeks deflated again, and she returned to her delicate and aloof oval face.

She didn't know what was going on, but at that time all she could think about was asking Ning about her son, about this line of text, about the two poems, and about that bow... Oh, and about the other person's completely haphazard pulse-taking technique, which didn't seem like that of a doctor at all!

However, the herbs that the other party applied to her abdomen seemed to be genuine. When Ning changed her dressing, she looked at the wound and saw that although it was extremely gruesome, there was no sign of suppuration. As a martial artist who was also a doctor, she had been to the wounded soldiers' camp of Daliang several times. Master Lu said that many soldiers actually only had a small wound, but it was the wound that ultimately took their lives.

Zhu Cuiwei frowned... In short, it was all because of the various illogical signs of this farm boy that her thoughts were in disarray. She hadn't felt much about it before, but now she found that there seemed to be more and more strange things about this boy. Today, she asked him frankly, but her doubts not only didn't decrease, but actually increased...

The oil lamp on the wooden platform was half-burnt.

It was already very late at night.

"call……"

She closed her eyes wearily, intending to go to sleep, but as soon as she did, the image of the boy drawing his bow like a full moon seemed to reappear before her eyes...

"Oh, right!"

She opened her eyes, her bright eyes now tinged with bloodshot veins.

There's a question I forgot to ask...

"What about the bow?"

……

……

The oil lamp burned out slowly, and the sky began to lighten with the first light of dawn.

The mist floated slowly in the air, enveloping the entire village.

The crowing of roosters echoed everywhere.

Each woman struggled to open her eyes, then instinctively kicked the lazy man beside her, cursing him to get up and pack his things to get out of bed, while she herself rolled over and remained in bed.

But she couldn't stay in bed for long. She got up amidst her mother-in-law's grumbling and followed her husband out the door.

In this day and age, sleeping in is an incredible privilege; ordinary farming families don't have that luxury.

At this time of year, farmers carrying hoes and buckets walk along the road and can't help but curse their ancestors in their hearts.

We wouldn't have dared to curse before, but ever since Aunt Ning's family received 1.9 shi of grain per mu last year, when everyone goes home to burn paper money for their ancestors, they can't help but mutter a few more words, "Ancestors, why don't you bless me?"

The Ning family's land was all barren back then; if they could harvest 1.2 shi per mu, that would be considered a great harvest.

I don't know what kind of luck they've had these past few years, but a few years ago, the Ning family received 1.5 shi of grain from one mu of land!

The barren land instantly became fertile land. Everyone smiled and congratulated her, praising Sister Ning for her good fortune.

Sister Ning laughed and said that her parents-in-law had made connections with the Dragon King underwater, and the old Dragon King sneezed on their land. Everyone laughed and chuckled.

Another year passed, and the Ning family received 1.7 shi of grain from one mu of land. Some people even said they received 1.8 shi. At this time, when people burned paper money for their ancestors, they were already asking their ancestors to ask the Dragon King to sneeze over their land as well.

pity.

After years of prayers, the Dragon King sneezed more and more frequently at the Ning family's place, but their land remained unchanged.

"Our ancestors were useless..."

An old man was wiping away tears and crying, while his son laughed beside him: "Oh, Dad, in a few years, you'll be our ancestor..."

"I'll beat you to death, you little brat!" The old man glared, raised his hoe, and swung it at him...

Farmers walked in twos and threes toward the fields, occasionally letting out a few mooing sounds and the gentle clatter of cow hooves.

A lone figure walked through the thin mist, joining the procession.

As I passed by the house of the "Reading Seed," this figure seemed to be in a great hurry to urinate. He walked to the side of the road, lifted his robe, and began to relieve himself.

A passerby spat, "Aren't they afraid of being struck by lightning? This is the home of a young scholar!"