The solar system is broken

The funeral of King Shang was very hasty.

A pit was dug at the entrance of the ancestral temple, the coffin was put in, and the body was buried.

The priest did not recite the long sacrificial inscription according to the script, but watched coldly as a few warriors dug a hole under the oak tree.

The only person with the surname Zi did not shed a single tear during the whole process.

His eyes were like looking at a dead tree buried in the soil, as if it was not his clan brother, but just a passerby.

The tablets in the temple watched silently, not saying a word as the two brothers who were separated from each other met again in a cold atmosphere.

Tang's virtue of opening a three-sided net has been completely discarded by his descendants, and brotherly hatred cannot be achieved even on one side.

Double the funeral coffin, place it with the north facing the south, and then hang it facing the south.

Before the ancients were buried, the coffin stopped on the west steps, and the funeral host stood on the east steps, facing the coffin.

When the king comes, it will be reversed. The host of the funeral is on the west steps, facing the coffin and crying to the north.

But the king stood on the north side, watching the mourning master cry.

Ziwei stood on the steps to the north and looked south at Emperor Yi's funeral coffin. He seemed to regard himself as a human king and the dead Emperor Yi as his human subject.

The writer sneered in his heart.

It's ridiculous that a person who can't even practice hypocritical etiquette would care about dead people. Such a person still wants to be king.

If this spreads, firstly, his image of being rude will be established, secondly, he will have a bad reputation for being unkind, and thirdly, his arrogance will be clearly revealed.

It's a lot of harm and no benefit, except for a little pleasure, but Emperor Yi is already dead, so you feel so good.

When the three families are in trouble, it will be a good end for you to be dead.

The more the writer thought about it, the more funny he felt. This conspirator was an idiot. But the sad thing was that he was still a grasshopper on the same rope as him.

In fact, the writer specifically told Ziwei about this the night before, asking him to cry until he was speechless, preferably until he fainted from crying several times.

If Ziwei had done enough drama about his misery when everyone was vying for power, not to mention his virtuous reputation, at least the national mood would have been better than that of Zishou who had hurriedly ascended the throne.

Once his son died, Ziwei, who had the bonus of being a filial brother, would definitely be able to gain points in front of his fellow clan members.

Then Ziwei will launch another palace coup, and the throne will be obtained much more smoothly.

Ziwei didn't want to cry just because he really couldn't help her.

His family is ruined.

The writer didn't bother to read it, turned around and left midway.

Ziwei was actually very confused as to whether he should listen to the writer's advice.

He is not a fool, so he naturally knows what the writer is talking about, but everything has pros and cons.

If Ziwei cries, it means that he agrees with Emperor Yi's authority and authority and that his position is correct.

Then, when the time comes, he will ascend the throne as king, even if he ascends the throne from Emperor Yi, he will not be considered to have obtained the throne from his grandfather Lin Xin, and he has recognized the legitimacy of the Gengding line in disguise.

This matter can be big or small. If it is big, it will affect whether the king he gets is justifiable. If it is small, it will have a chance even if the surname is not changed. (The premise is that Zi Shou, Zi Qi, and Zi Zhong are all dead)

However, in the writer's opinion, this is considered a seizure of power by force. When the throne comes, it will not be changed by anyone who cries. It is not important.

Of course, this is the writer's view of aristocratic politics as a commoner, and the aristocrats themselves may have a more deeply rooted regard for this.

The Shang king cannot be buried here.

Qiucheng can only be used as a place to stop mourning. After the war between the three families has ended, they can be transported back to Chaoge.

But who can say for sure what will happen at that time?

The ceremony was completed. The three warriors buried the coffin.

The lingering fragrance curled up, burning away the sorrow of a king.

No matter how prominent you were during your lifetime, you will still be nothing but dirt after your death.

"Gentleman," a warrior hurriedly ran from the direction of the stable, quietly came to the priest's side, gently whispered in his ear, and reminded Ziwei.

"Um?"

Ziwei's expression was very surprised, his face was a little solemn, but more of it was suspicion.

"Is the news reliable?"

The warrior nodded, with a determined look on his face.

Zi squinted her eyes and thought for a while, pacing the steps with her hands behind her back, her face uncertain.

"Mr. Xiao..." He kept repeating this word silently, seeming to be afraid and hesitant.

"See you? Gentleman!"

Ziwei paced continuously, his brows furrowed.

"See you," Ziwei stretched out an index finger and pointed at the warrior fiercely, and the warrior's whole body shivered.

"Tell them to meet you at the palace (a house where you don't live regularly) tonight!"

Wave your long sleeves to create a bit of wind, which is very impressive.

Qiucheng Palace.

That is the legendary residence of the first generation ancestor Qi (xie Qusheng).

A small earthen bag with a Xiangdian remains on it. For the purpose of ancestor worship, it was not dismantled.

Many houses were built around that small dirt bag.

Although these houses are outside the country, they are not inhabited by savages, but by high-status Chinese.

(The people of the Republic of China are people inside Guo, and the barbarians are people outside Guo)

Ziwei has a different career beside the autumn water.

It's not big, and the plow made of bamboo surrounds a one-foot-square area, which is a little far away from the palace.

But fortunately, it was quiet and located in a dense bamboo forest, so no one could see anyone being killed.

It's almost night. A small rain shuttle is coming.

The bamboo leaves were broken into pieces, and the water dropped drop by drop.

When the wind blows, the bamboos blow out some natural sounds.

There is a small path beside the shallow autumn water, winding from the direction of Qiucheng.

The man in ink clothes walked freely along the path, looking at the faint ink mountains and rivers indifferently.

I followed a woman holding an oil-paper umbrella from a distance, the small umbrella shaking on the horse's back.

The woman complained, "You might as well put on a raincoat, but you're just getting wet."

"Okay, okay~" he waved his hands perfunctorily.

Don't listen to the sound of beating leaves in the forest, why not scream and walk slowly, who is afraid?

The clatter of horse hooves was a beautiful accident. They were not passers-by, but businessmen.

When we arrived in front of the forest, the firewood door was open at an angle.

A blood-red figure sat upright in the hall, with steam rising.

Dim yellow oil lamps lit two rows, and the shadows on the square face with Chinese characters alternated.

His fingers were gently placed on the low table, trying to figure out who would be coming next.

Crunch~

The firewood door opened slightly, and a man in black clothes walked out of the rain, with a calm smile on his face.

There was a woman following behind, I don't know what she was doing.

"Tap tap tap~" Stepping on the water, the two of them walked to the front of the hall.

There is a boy waiting at the door to take care of you.

Huo Shan changed into a green shirt and cloth shoes and walked into the hall.

The green shirt was so big that it fluttered in the wind as I walked.

"Gentleman," Huo Shan arched his hands and stood in the hall.

Ziwei spread his hands and motioned for the two of them to sit down.

In fact, the Shang State did not have a big taboo against women, and women were allowed to participate in some businesses.

Han Ling'er is on the left and Huo Shan is on the right, facing each other.

If we don’t have a common language, let’s have a chat first and develop feelings.

The banquet has begun.

This civilization is beyond the standard. The methods of stewing, boiling, steaming, roasting and pickling food are quite perfect.

According to the etiquette and law, the main dishes for entertaining guests are steamed soup, soup, and roasted food.

It is very simple. It is to slice fresh poultry and eat it raw. The main ingredients are fish and sheep (others are mainly difficult to obtain). The most plump and tender parts of the pork should be selected and cut carefully with a copper dagger.

The cutting can be as thin as a awn, as scattered as a barren grain, and as accumulated as a pile of red.

The so-called pickling requires one more step than pickling. You need to soak the raw slices in rice wine overnight, and eat them with ginger slices, minced garlic, dipping sauce, sour, and chives.

As for the taste, it's a bit crispy and very fresh.

There are 4 kinds of meat slices at Zixian, including fish, sheep, deer and dolphin, which is quite rich in variety.

The fish is river carp, and the sheep is sheep. They are not very precious, but they are better than fresh ones.

However, as modern people, both of us are somewhat conflicted. Without him, we are just parasites.

As for the soup, it is quite simple. It is a bit like a stew. When stewing, you add salt, dried plums, vinegar and other things, and put it in a copper cauldron to simmer.

But it didn't taste very good, the mutton smell was too strong.

Roasting means cutting the meat into pieces, sticking it with bamboo skewers, and baking it. What is different from the real history is that here there are chili peppers that can be sprinkled on and it tastes good.

It is the favorite thing of two modern people. The meat skewers placed in the earthenware bowl were finished in just a few strokes.

The main thing in the palace is still making a special dish. This one is a deer deer. A skinned and disemboweled deer is smeared with ointment on the inside, and a dark sauce is poured on the outside. The belly is stuffed with cinnamon, ginger, pepper, and fresh vegetables.

Wrap it in reeds and roast it over the fire.

Cooked little by little.

When it's cooked, the cook chops it up with a knife, puts it in a food bowl, and distributes it to the guests and hosts, and then the guests and hosts divide it with a knife.

I am used to eating standardized-produced barbecue, and I feel a special affinity for this kind of meat with a light fragrance.

The musicians in front of the hall started, with the piano and harps playing softly, and a four-line Yan Xin poem from an unknown time.

When Huo Shan was enjoying his meal, he couldn't help but said: "Hey, the deer roars, eating the wormwood in the wild. I have a distinguished guest, Kong Zhao of Deyin. He treats the people without mercy, and a gentleman will be effective. I have a drink,

Guest style Yan Yiao."

If you don't explain it, the explanation will be vulgar.

Ziwei listened to this piece of music softly, the poem that was misplaced in time and space was inexplicably funny.

They sang very well, but all of them had evil intentions.

"Congratulations to the gentleman, may you live forever~" Huo Shan moved away from the table (left the couch to show respect) and raised the wine cup.

"Congratulations!" Ziwei held up the wine glass with both hands and took a sip.

In fact, long life without borders was just a blessing in ancient times, which is equivalent to wishing you happiness in modern times. There is such a sentence in the Book of Songs in July, when you step into the court and say (raise) the other person, long life without borders.

The bronze wine baron was raised high, and the dim yellow liquid kept sloshing.

There were people drinking wine and singing, and it was a harmonious scene of feasting.