Chapter 1: The Flower is Not Drunk, But Everyone is Drunk (Part 1)

  Outside the house, the gentle breeze rustled through the bamboo, while Ye Zhao lowered his head and drank silently.

  This is the west wing of the main house in Yan Chun Yuan, a brothel in Beijing. The girls in Yan Chun Yuan are mostly from Jiangnan and Suzhou, renowned for their beauty throughout the capital city. The compound has two courtyards with four two-story buildings on each side. A winding staircase leads up to the south side. Each doorframe is adorned with red and green silk ribbons, indicating which room belongs to which courtesan, a subtle hint for regular clients.

  The room where Ye Zhaolai was located, the outer hall and inner chamber, were filled with fragrance, and the soft couches inside emitted a fragrant aroma, making people feel carefree and joyful.

  The zitan wood carving lingzhi rolled grass table, the most popular sour branch wooden soft chair among the official families in the capital, is said to be able to sit for two or three hours without feeling waist and back pain. The furniture arrangement in the hall is extraordinary and atmospheric. This room was originally secretly rented by a yellow belt named Dachun from the inner city, who got a job at the infantry commander's mansion but only knew how to indulge in prostitutes and smoke, and before he was twenty, he became weak and thin like a consumptive ghost. Ye Zhaoyou had known Dachun since childhood, and they entered the Jueluo Academy together, almost growing up together with bare buttocks, but ultimately could not be persuaded.

  Today, Ye Zhaoye was feeling depressed. Huang Dazi was on duty at the government office and couldn't accompany him. So Da Chun repeatedly persuaded Ye Zhaoye to come to Yanchun Institute, saying that there was a beautiful courtesan who had been paid for by him, and today he would send her to his brother to lift his spirits. Ye Zhaoye unknowingly came to Yanchun Institute.

  "Father, excessive drinking is bad for your health." Standing beside Ye Zhao was a thin, horse-faced man in a green robe with a floral jacket, his cunning triangular eyes darting back and forth, clearly not someone to be trifled with.

  He is called Ruiji, the fourth in line, and outsiders call him Fourth Master Rui. On the streets, he is also a figure who kicks his feet and shakes his head. He is Zheng Wangfu's Bao Yi, the long-following of the king's only son. It can't be said that in the future, the young master will inherit the title, and Rui Si is the manager of the third product of the Wang Fu hat. Who sees him must shout loudly: Fourth Master Rui?

  Rui Si knew that the young master was feeling depressed today, so he went along with Da Liu Ye's suggestion and brought the young master to Yan Chun Yuan. It is worth noting that the rules for imperial family members are very strict, if someone finds out that he instigated the young master to visit prostitutes, he might be punished by having his legs broken and being exiled to a remote area. However, Rui Si was cunning and even if someone reported him, he would have a way to deal with it.

  Seeing the young master drinking alone, Rui Si couldn't help but speak up to advise him. Although the young master was no longer young, he should have been married by now, but he seemed to be clueless about relationships between men and women. It had never been heard that any of the maids in the household had been favored by him, and it was even more unusual that all the attendants by his side were eunuchs. There were also rumors outside that the young master had a fondness for males, but no one knew if it was true or not.

  To dispel boredom, wouldn't it be a hundred times better to have a lively and charming girl in your arms?

  Rui Si muttered to herself in her heart, but didn't dare say it out loud.

  Ye Zhao sipped his wine, but in his heart he softly sighed. The world is so big, who knows what one's feelings are at this moment?

  It's been twenty years since I came to this world. In my previous life, I was an orphan who was blessed by heaven. This life, from childhood on, I have enjoyed all the glory and wealth. Although I once felt awkward being a Manchu noble, as time passed, I became accustomed to it. After all, my mother, Ye Shi, was from the Han military banner, and my father's bloodline was no longer very pure. In any case, this body of mine is more than half Han ethnicity. My father doted on me excessively, and my mother could be said to have spoiled me rotten. These two elderly people truly treated me like a precious treasure, afraid to drop me, afraid to let me go. From the time I was in swaddling clothes, I enjoyed the parental love that I had never experienced in my previous life.

  I myself have no interest in archery or Manchu language, but my father also lets it go. Even yesterday after the imperial examination, I heard that my father had a quarrel with Prince Gong because of me. The reason was simply that Prince Gong said behind my back that "I am not striving for progress".

  Originally, the recent exams were just a formality, especially since he was the only son of the Wang family and this branch was also an iron-clad hereditary title that would not be replaced. It was expected that he would inherit the title sooner or later. Who knew that the Zongren Fu suddenly made a big fuss and invited many princes, dukes, and nobles to attend the ceremony? As a result, he performed poorly in all three subjects of literature, art, and archery, making a big fool of himself.

  At the age of twenty, his father had originally hoped that after this evaluation, he would be appointed as the Crown Prince, which was a first-class dukedom in the same county. According to the rules of the imperial clan, he was qualified to divide the fiefdom. However, it turned out that if he were an ordinary member of the imperial clan, with all three exams being inferior, he would have been stripped of his title. But as the iron-hat aristocrat's yellow-banded son, he was different from others and was granted the title of First-Class Defender General, which was one rank lower than his father's title at the age of twenty. At that time, his father had several brothers, and it was uncertain who would inherit the title, but he himself was the only heir.

  To say that the Gong Guo General is a third-class noble title, in later generations it is almost equivalent to a deputy provincial-level treatment of idle people. As for the son or the general, neither is particularly concerned about this modern person.

  Since my rebirth, I haven't thought about doing anything earth-shattering. However, in my free time, I've written many insights about political parties and systems using the traditional characters I learned. Yet, I've never discussed with anyone the current trends of Eurasia or the various aspects of Western civilization, nor have I ever mentioned that I'm proficient in Western languages. In today's world, from the emperor to the officials, everyone looks down on Western countries with contempt and disdain, and they don't think that we lost the war ten years ago. These Western studies are not of interest to anyone.

  Currently feeling down and disappointed in myself, I feel sorry for my parents because I got into a big argument with someone else.

  Perhaps I should do something myself? Ye Zhaowen thought gloomily, could it be that he would really just muddle along until death, allowing the historians of later generations to write down the four words "the 14th generation Zheng Qinwang was mediocre and unremarkable"?

  It just so happens that this is the third year of Xianfeng, and I wasn't even very clear about the exact year myself. But since the Taiping Army had just established its capital in Tianjing, it must be 1853 now.

  If history had followed its original course, in a few more years the Xianfeng Emperor would have passed away, and Empress Dowager Ci Xi would have joined forces with Prince Gong to launch the Coup of 1861. The eight regents would either have been killed or dismissed from office and exiled, and among those who were killed was my father, also the only Iron Cap Prince in Qing history to be given a death sentence.

  I don't know how much my arrival has affected the course of history so far, but I think the first to be affected are my own brothers and sisters. In history, Prince Zhengqin Duanhua had many sons and daughters, but due to my birth, it became a situation where there was only one son and two daughters.

  Also because of his own incompetence, he caused his father to have more disputes with others, and even privately refused the emperor's intention to arrange a marriage, so his relationship with the Xianfeng Emperor was not as good as history has it. On the contrary, Prince Gong was much more active than him during the same period in history, and he was not idle and hiding in the palace to avoid suspicion.

  If it goes on like this, perhaps Father would not have met with such a calamity. After all, he might not have been able to enter the ranks of the trusted ministers. But who can say for sure?

  If you want to thoroughly change the misfortune that may come with your family, you really need to do something. Not to mention, is it true that the great land of China will be forced to step by step towards modern society only by relying on others' guns and cannons? How much wealth accumulated by generations of Chinese people will be plundered by war reparations time and time again?