On this day, in the governor's manor of Liyang City where the Da Chu State's emperor was temporarily staying, something that would shock the heavens and earth happened. However, the people who knew about this would not speak of it because a portion of them had already been killed by Mo Jingli. The ones that could not be killed were Mo Jingli's trusted aides and did not have the courage to do so. Everyone in Liyang City, from the nobles to the commoners, did not know what had happened. The only thing they knew was that the Da Chu Army's rations had been burned by the Mohist army last night.
In Mo Jingli's room, several imperial physicians were kneeling on the ground, trembling and not daring to move. Mo Jingli sat on the bed and coldly stared at the people below him. His face was twisted and ferocious like a storm was coming.
"Tell me … can it be cured?" After a long time, Mo Jingli coldly asked.
The room was silent for a long time before an imperial physician said in a trembling voice, "Reporting to the emperor … this, the assassin … the assassin was too heavy-handed. Also … he was drugged. This subject is useless, there is nothing we can do … "
A trace of killing intent flashed across Mo Jingli's face. He sneered and said, "Take him out and kill him! Since you are useless, why are you still alive? "Two guards came in and dragged out the imperial physician who had just spoken. The imperial physician cried out in fear, "Emperor, have mercy! Emperor … Emperor, have mercy! " It was a pity that Mo Jingli did not have any intention of paying attention to him. Instead, he stared at the remaining imperial physicians kneeling by the bed and asked, "What do you say?"
The imperial physicians had long been frightened out of their wits by Mo Jingli's cold-blooded methods. They hurriedly said, "We will definitely … we will definitely do our best … Your Majesty, please spare our lives …"
"Do your best?" Mo Jingli was dissatisfied. The imperial physicians hurriedly changed their words, "We will definitely create an antidote. We will definitely cure Your Majesty … definitely …" Who cared about the crime of deceiving the monarch right now? If they lied to the emperor, they would die later. If they did not lie to the emperor, they would die immediately. All the imperial physicians hurriedly guaranteed, as if someone had not been cut in a place that should not have been cut. Instead, it was as if he had accidentally cut his hand.
Mo Jingli narrowed his eyes and said coldly, "I will give you three days."
"Yes! The imperial physicians all heaved a sigh of relief and hurriedly agreed.
Looking at these imperial physicians who were as frightened as cicadas in winter, Mo Jingli coldly snorted and said, "Get out!" The imperial physicians scrambled out of the room to study the prescription. They knew in their hearts that the person who had stabbed Mo Jingli was clearly trying to sever his roots, not to mention whether or not they could develop an antidote. Even if Shen Yang, who was known as the Godly Doctor of the present age, came with the Biluo Grass, it was useless. After all … humans were not garlic sprouts that could grow back after being pinched off. However, none of them dared to speak the truth. After all, the example of the past was right in front of them. At this moment, these imperial physicians could not help but hope in their hearts that the Mohist army would quickly break through Liyang so that they could escape.
In the room, Mo Jingli leaned against the head of the bed and stared at the letter in his hand that he had already read countless times. The expression in his eyes kept changing.
"This old official, Qiu Yunan, requests an audience with the emperor." Outside the door, a somewhat old voice sounded. Mo Jingli said in a low voice, "Come in."
An old man around sixty years old dressed as a scholar walked in. Looking at the person on the bed, he carefully lowered his head and bowed, "What orders does the emperor have for summoning me?" Mo Jingli stared at him for a while before asking, "Lord Qiu, you can be considered an old official of four dynasties, right?"
Lord Qiu quickly said, "Replying to the emperor, this old official has been an official since the time of the previous emperor." It was a pity that his fate was not good. His ability was average, his appearance was average, and his family background was also average. Thus, he was still unknown after four dynasties. However, at least he knew how to conduct himself normally. These years, he had lived peacefully. Now, those with ability in Da Chu State's court had either died or left. It was only now that he barely had a chance to make a name for himself. However, Mo Jingli still did not think highly of him. It was only out of helplessness that he promoted him because there was no one else he could use.
Mo Jingli raised his hand and handed over the letter in his hand, saying, "Then take a look. Do you recognize this handwriting?"
Lord Qiu carefully took the letter and looked. He paused at the contents of the letter. However, he quickly detected Mo Jingli's cold gaze and quickly focused his attention on the handwriting. He furrowed his brow and shook his head after a while, saying, "Replying to the emperor, this old official … … does not recognize this handwriting."
Mo Jingli laughed coldly and said, "Is that so? Doesn't it look familiar? "
Familiar? Lord Qiu looked back at the letter in confusion. This time, he really did see something. He hesitated for a moment before saying, "This … … emperor, this handwriting seems to be from … … from … …"
"From Su Zhe, is that right?" Mo Jingli asked coldly. Back then, Su Zhe was not only the greatest scholar in Da Chu State, second only to Master Qingyun. He was also a famous calligrapher. There were as many people who wanted to be his disciple as there were hairs on a cow. However, there were only two people who had the opportunity to be taught by Su Zhe from the beginning.
Lord Qiu nodded and said, "That's right. However … … this person's handwriting is very different from Master Su Zhe's. Su Zhe's handwriting is elegant and has the elegance and pride of a scholar. However, this person's handwriting is more carefree and domineering. It's not hard to imagine, but … … if you look closely, there are traces of Su Zhe's handwriting. Therefore, this person should have been taught by Su Zhe from a young age. "Learning from a young age was a habit that had been carved into one's bones. Even when it became independent later on, there were still traces to be found.
Mo Jingli threw out another booklet and asked, "Did these two handwriting come from the same person?"
Lord Qiu opened it and almost fell to the ground in fright when he saw it. This booklet was written by Prince Ding. Although Mo Xiuyao was not a famous calligrapher, because of his status and reputation, his handwriting would occasionally be found outside. It was even more valuable than the handwriting of many famous calligraphers. Lord Qiu had been an official in court for thirty to forty years. Naturally, he had seen it before. But … … wasn't Prince Ding already dead?
Looking at Mo Jingli in fright, Lord Qiu even forgot his proper etiquette. He wondered if the Emperor had gone mad from anger because of what had happened last night. Seeing Lord Qiu's shocked expression, Mo Jingli's expression became even uglier. Did he like being suspected as a madman? He held the letter and compared it for a long time. However, the person who had left the letter seemed to have done it on purpose. The handwriting on the letter was seventy percent similar to Mo Xiuyao's, but also thirty percent different. It was as if the person had purposely written it to look right but not right. If Mo Xiuyao really hadn't died and wanted to change the identity of his handwriting, then there was no need for him to write a letter with his handwriting. He could have just thought of a way to cover up his handwriting. But now, Mo Jingli couldn't help but wonder if Mo Xiuyao really hadn't died. But if this was a trick by the Mohist army, then he would lose face in front of the entire world again. At that time, everyone would know that he, Mo Jingli, was afraid of Mo Xiuyao. Even if Mo Xiuyao had died, he was still afraid of him.
"Is it true or not?!" Mo Jingli asked coldly.
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