Chapter 507: Yuwen Ang, who is confined, irritable, and prone to anger, but is unusually clear about the situation

Early morning.

Chang'an is immersed in the deep winter cold fog.

The flying eaves and corners of the Qiao Prince's mansion are hidden in the milky white mist, and even the copper bells under the eaves seem to be frozen, only occasionally making one or two dull collisions.

The sky was just beginning to brighten, and the eastern horizon was only dyed with a very faint fish-belly white, but a celadon candlestick had already been lit in the study. The jumping candlelight cast the bamboo shadows on the window paper in a crooked way.

Yuwen Ang, who was confined in his own mansion, leaned obliquely on the Hu bed covered with thick brocade cushions.

A moon-white silk robe was draped loosely over his shoulders, the collar slipping open on one side, revealing the delicate skin on the side of his neck.

His left leg was placed casually on the large rosewood desk. The brush, ink, paper, and inkstone on the desk were pushed into a mess, and an opened military book was still pinned down by a jade pendant paperweight.

With a "creak," the study door was pushed open gently, and the cold air, wrapped in fragments of frost, surged in.

Hu Yuming, an official of the Spring Office, was dressed in a dark blue official robe, holding a stack of neatly bundled books in his arms, and the corners of his robe were stained with white frost condensed from the morning dew.

He was thin and had a gentle appearance. After entering the room, he slowed his steps.

Hu Yuming walked to the desk, placed the books gently in the empty space at Yuwen Ang's feet, and then bowed.

"Your Highness, the Mao hour has arrived, it's time for class." His voice was gentle, carrying a touch of respect, "What we are learning today is the 'Neize' chapter in the 'Book of Rites', which concerns the way of human relations, daily use, and self-cultivation and family management."

Hearing this, Yuwen Ang only lifted his eyelids obliquely and looked at him, his gaze full of indifference.

Immediately, he curled his lips, a mocking arc hooking at the corners of his mouth. The foot placed on the desk shook lightly, causing the copper paperweight on the desk to make a clinking sound, and he mocked: "What's the use of learning these broken things of 'Zhi Hu Zhe Ye'?"

Hu Yuming did not get angry, but leaned over to open the yellowed "Book of Rites" on the top.

He pointed to a line of text and persuaded patiently: "Your Highness, how can this be useless?"

"These are the supreme truths handed down by the sages Confucius and Mencius, every word is a pearl."

"The 'Neize' chapter details the etiquette of father and son, monarch and minister, husband and wife. Only by learning it well can one understand reason and etiquette, and know the sense of proportion in dealing with people!"

Hearing this, Yuwen Ang's brows knitted even tighter, his face full of resistance and disgust. He reached out and wanted to push away the "Book of Rites," cursing: "Learn your mother's!"

"This King won't learn!"

Originally, after being tricked, it was annoying enough to be confined, and learning the corrupt Confucian studies of self-cultivation and family management was even more annoying!

Hu Yuming quietly restrained his helplessness, lowered his eyelids, and his voice was neither high nor low, saying: "Your Highness, this was not arranged by your subordinate without authorization, but was specifically instructed by the Grandmaster."

He lifted his eyes slightly, his gaze falling on Yuwen Ang's furious face, his tone still respectful, but with a touch of persistence, "The Grandmaster instructed that he needs to supervise Your Highness's self-reflection every day. I ask Your Highness not to make it difficult for your subordinate."

Yuwen Ang was like a lit firecracker, his anger instantly rushing to the top of his head, the veins on his temples bulging slightly, "What kind of thing is he!"

"Get out! Get out for this King!"

Before he finished speaking, Yuwen Ang rose violently, grabbed the "Book of Rites" in Hu Yuming's hands, and without waiting for the other party to react, tore it hard with both hands.

With a crisp sound of "chi-la," the yellowed pages were torn apart, and the paper scraps flew like butterflies.

He was still not satisfied, and threw the torn pages hard. The broken paper pages, carrying a sharp momentum, smashed straight onto Hu Yuming's face and neck.

Some sharp paper corners even cut his cheeks, seeping blood.

"Get out!" Yuwen Ang pointed to the direction of the study door, his eyes blood-red, his roar full of violence.

The broken paper slid down Hu Yuming's shoulders. He raised his hand to gently wipe away the blood beads on his cheeks, his expression not showing the slightest fluctuation.

Neither angry nor frightened, he was still the same gentle and respectful appearance, but his eyes became increasingly calm.

He bowed slowly, gathered the broken pages to the side, and then straightened up, arching his hands toward Yuwen Ang again: "Your subordinate is ordered to supervise the class. Since today's class is not finished, I naturally will not leave."

"I ask Your Highness to listen patiently to the words of the sages and find the way of self-restraint in the Book of Rites!"

Seeing Hu Yuming pestering him and daring to quote the sages to lecture him, the violence in Yuwen Ang's eyes instantly condensed into substantial fierce light.

He gritted his teeth, violently rolled up the sleeves of his moon-white silk robe, revealing his clean-lined forearms, the veins jumping on his fair skin.

"Find your grandmother's leg!"

The vulgar curse blurted out. Before he finished speaking, he clenched his fists and smashed them straight toward Hu Yuming's face.

With a muffled sound of "peng," the fist landed solidly on Hu Yuming's cheek.

Hu Yuming was thin to begin with, how could he withstand such a heavy blow? His body swayed violently, and a shrill scream broke out: "Ah!"

Staggering back two steps, blood spilled from the corners of his mouth instantly. The calm expression from before was torn apart by the severe pain, and his eyes were full of fear.

"Your Highness, spare my life!" He covered his swollen and painful cheek, his voice carrying a cry, bowing repeatedly to beg for mercy, "I ask Your Highness to show mercy!"

How could Yuwen Ang stop? Under the burning anger, his fists and feet fell like raindrops, smashing onto Hu Yuming's shoulders and back.

"Blind thing!"

"This King told you to get out and you didn't!"

He cursed while hitting, the brute force of a young man carrying a ruthless energy, beating Hu Yuming until he cried out in pain repeatedly, "Ah ah ah—it hurts!"

"Your Highness, spare my life!" Hu Yuming had no power to fight back, and could only hold his head, dodging in the study in a sorry state.

Staggering back step by step, his official robe was pulled crooked, stained with dust and blood.

The tables and chairs in the study were knocked over, the candlestick fell to the ground, the candlelight went out, leaving only curling blue smoke.

Hu Yuming was trembling with pain, and only one thought remained in his mind.

Escape!

Rolling and crawling toward the direction of the main gate, his back hit the door frame again and again, his teeth bared in pain, but he dared not stop for half a moment.

Finally, when he retreated to the doorway, he spotted a gap, turned around violently, and ran away, not even caring about the books that fell to the ground.

Yuwen Ang chased to the doorway, stopped with heavy breathing, his chest rising and falling violently, the fierce light in his eyes not yet dissipated, and the sweat beads on his temples rolling down mixed with anger.

And Hu Yuming had already run a distance. He looked back and saw that Yuwen Ang was not chasing him, so he dared to stop, covered his swollen and painful cheek, and shouted toward the study: "Your Highness! I will report today's matter to the Grandmaster one by one!"

Hearing this, Yuwen Ang looked up and sneered, roaring at his back: "Report! If you have the ability, report it! Do you think this King is afraid of you!"

It was a look of breaking the jar and smashing it.

He had already been stripped of his title and confined, and his situation was as bad as it could be. What was there to fear?

The cold fog had not yet dissipated, and the frost in the courtyard was stained on the steps.

Just as Yuwen Ang was standing with his hands on his hips and roaring, a light and slow sound of footsteps came from outside the courtyard gate. Shangguan Suqing, the Princess of Qiao, was dressed in a moon-white dress embroidered with plum branches, covered with a light green vest, her skirt sweeping across the frosty ground, walking over silently.

The maid beside her carried a vermilion food box, her steps light, not daring to make half a sound.

Shangguan Suqing had just stepped into the courtyard when she bumped into Yuwen Ang's wide-eyed appearance. Hu Yuming's panicked back in the distance had not yet completely hidden into the fog.

The torn book pages and crooked candlesticks were scattered at the door of the study, a mess.

Her beautiful brows knitted slightly, a trace of worry flashed in her eyes, then she restrained her expression, walked forward, and persuaded softly: "Your Highness, calm your anger."

The woman's voice was gentle like the flowing water of spring, instantly diluting the violence in the courtyard, "Mr. Hu is also acting under orders, not intentionally making Your Highness unhappy..."

Yuwen Ang turned his head when he heard the sound. Seeing it was the Princess, the fierce light in his eyes gradually faded, leaving only a little lingering irritability. He loosened his hands on his hips, his tone eased a lot, and he asked with a touch of doubt: "Why are you here?"

Shangguan Suqing's lips bloomed with a gentle smile, her gaze falling on Yuwen Ang to examine him carefully, her eyes full of heartache that could not be hidden, "Your Highness, it is cold in the morning. I specifically boiled chicken soup, thinking that you might not have had breakfast yet, so I came to deliver it to you to nourish your body."

She raised her hand to gently brush off the paper scraps on his shoulders, her voice softening a bit, "You have been restless these days, and you look like you have lost a lot of weight..."

Hearing this, Yuwen Ang turned his head, his tone still carrying a touch of stubbornness: "Don't drink!"

Having said that, he turned around and walked quickly into the study, leaving the mess behind.

Shangguan Suqing didn't care about his refusal, still followed him in with a smile, and signaled the maid to put the food box on the desk.

She opened the food box herself, and a rich chicken soup fragrance instantly permeated, dispelling the ink dust remaining in the study.

In the white jade bowl inside the food box, the chicken soup was clear, floating with a few red dates and wolfberries, the color enticing.

Shangguan Suqing picked up the silver spoon, filled a full bowl, and handed it to Yuwen Ang carefully, her eyes earnest: "Your Highness, have at least a little."

Immediately, she sighed lightly, her voice carrying a touch of pleading, "You haven't had a proper meal for days. Getting angry on an empty stomach hurts your spleen and stomach. What will happen in the future?"

Yuwen Ang stared at the soup bowl handed to him, his brows knitted even tighter, and the irritability he had just suppressed surged up again.

He turned his head away violently, his tone carrying impatient driving away: "Don't drink! I said don't drink, so I don't drink!"

Immediately, he waved his hand, carrying a touch of violence, "Don't come to bother this King! Let this King be quiet!"

Shangguan Suqing was caught off guard, and the white jade soup bowl in her hand was pushed hard.

With a "kuang-dang" sound, it smashed to the ground.

The boiling chicken soup splashed everywhere, and the porcelain bowl shattered into several pieces.

A few drops of boiling soup splashed on the back of her fair hand, instantly causing red marks.

"Ah!" A light cry escaped from the Princess's lips. She instinctively retracted her hand, a trace of pain flashing between her brows, but she forcibly endured it without losing her composure.

Seeing this, Yuwen Ang's heart tightened, and the previous anger instantly vanished, leaving only full concern.

He stood up violently, walked quickly to her, and reached out to pull her hand: "Suqing, what's wrong? Where were you burned?"

His tone was anxious, completely losing the previous rudeness.

Shangguan Suqing hid her scalded red hand behind her back, squeezed a shallow smile on her face, and shook her head: "I'm fine!"

"Just the back of my hand was splashed a little, it doesn't matter, it's okay!"

Yuwen Ang looked at her tightly pursed lips and the pain that could not be hidden in her eyes, sighed heavily, his tone full of annoyance: "This King didn't mean to get angry at you..."

"Just now my mind was chaotic, and I lost my sense of proportion for a moment."

Shangguan Suqing nodded obediently, her eyes full of understanding: "I know Your Highness is feeling stuffy in your heart, how could I blame you."

She paused, seeing his expression loosen, she stepped forward, her voice becoming increasingly gentle, carrying a touch of persuasion, "Your Highness, actually you don't have to be so angry..."

"You are ultimately the son of the Founding Emperor, the younger brother of the current Son of Heaven, connected by blood. How could His Majesty really confine you for ten years?"

"In my humble opinion, this move by His Majesty and the Grand Tutor is just to punish you slightly."

"They just want to grind your temper. Once you restrain your sharpness, I think they will release you soon and restore your royal title."

A cold sneer hooked at the corners of Yuwen Ang's lips, with a touch of mockery.

He lowered his eyes and was silent for a moment, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the broken wood on the edge of the desk, murmuring: "His Majesty and the Grand Tutor... perhaps there is really this possibility."

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly lifted his eyes, the subject changed abruptly, and the coldness condensed in his eyes again. He asked Shangguan Suqing back: "But do you think that bastard Chen Yan will watch this King turn over? How could he not make trouble?"

The smile on Shangguan Suqing's face stalled, her eyes flickered, and she hesitated: "This..."

She wanted to say that Chen Yan was upright and loved by the people of Chang'an, so he shouldn't be like this, but she remembered that her own man was confined by him...

Yuwen Ang narrowed his eyes, violence and resentment surging in his eyes, his fists clenched quietly at his sides, "That Chen Yan is the most vengeful, and his mind is terrifyingly meticulous!"

"He teamed up with Houmochen and Yuwen Yi to frame this King, so he absolutely cannot give this King the slightest chance to rise again and take revenge on him!"

"I'm afraid he will use all kinds of tricks, and even poison this King to death here, completely cutting off the roots, which is not impossible..."

He, Yuwen Ang, is just arrogant, irritable, and greedy for money, not stupid, and even less unable to see the situation...

Shangguan Suqing was stiffened by Yuwen Ang's words, her fingertips curled up instinctively, and dense coldness crawled up her spine, and she couldn't help but shiver.

Her face turned slightly pale, her voice carrying a tremor that was hard to detect, and she asked tentatively: "Lord Chen... Lord Chen Yan, would he really be so absolute?"

Hearing this, Yuwen Ang curled his lips in disdain, the mockery in his eyes almost overflowing, "That guy is a black-hearted and rotten-lunged bastard! His heart is vicious beyond measure!"

He raised his hand and slapped the desk heavily, shaking the remaining broken porcelain pieces slightly, "Zhao Qian was exterminated to the tenth generation, Dugu Zhao was exterminated to the ninth generation. Among those who are his enemies, how many are still alive today?"

After speaking, he curled his lips in self-mockery, his eyes full of despair, "Maybe, this King's life is not long either!"

Just then, a clear but somewhat playful voice suddenly came from outside the study: "Prince Qiao, you seem to have more than just a little resentment toward this office!" ===== CHAPTER 508 =====