Echoes of My Heart Throughout the Court-Chapter 356: That’s a Taoist Priest, Not a Turtle in a Wishing Fountain!
After all these chapters, In the Years When I Was a Father—the heartfelt story of Qi Sheng’s journey—has finally been completed today. Thank you for following along through every twist and emotion. Please support on Ko-fi, every bit helps with translation and maintaining this website. Stay tuned for more heartwarming stories ahead!
“Daoist! I want to give birth to a son!”
“Daoist! I wish to ask for a marriage fate!”
“Daoist, I want sudden wealth from the heavens!”
“Daoist, I…”
Xu Yanmiao looked at the line in front of him and felt like he was looking at a bunch of turtles in a wishing fountain.
That Daoist priest, however, was taking each request very seriously. He would question each supplicant carefully—some he gave talismans to, while others he turned away, saying their fate was too weak, and the talisman wouldn’t be effective for them.
Assistant Minister Wei wiped the sweat from his forehead and turned to Xu Yanmiao. “This is why I say this Daoist really has true ability. If someone’s fortune isn’t strong enough, he won’t accept them. There was once a family that offered him ten thousand taels of gold, and he still waved it off, refusing to help.”
Xu Yanmiao stared at the Daoist in surprise. The man certainly had the air of an immortal—he looked the part. “How does he calculate someone’s fortune?”
Wei Ren thought for a moment and replied, “Seems like it’s based on doing good deeds regularly. But he doesn’t say much about the details—just claims he can ‘see’ it with his eyes.”
Xu Yanmiao nodded politely. “Sounds like this Daoist is truly skilled in the mystical arts.”
But in his heart, he muttered: [Who knows if it’s real or not.]
Wei Ren pretended not to hear the skepticism and casually added, “To be honest, after reconciling with my friend, I actually made a ‘Three-Year Plan.’”
Those last four words were emphasized with a deliberate bite.
Xu Yanmiao, oblivious to any subtext, responded warmly, “Oh? May I ask what it is?”
Wei Ren said, “This three-year plan is to co-author a book with him during these years, expressing our views on worldly matters. Though I call it a three-year plan, it might take five years. But for the next three years, I’ll mainly be focused on this. I don’t have much confidence in myself, so I want to ask for a talisman to help this endeavor.”
He rattled it all off in one breath, chuckling to himself inside—almost smug enough to put his hands on his hips.
—He’d said “three-year plan” over and over; Xu Yanmiao should catch on by now, right?
Xu Yanmiao only smiled and replied, “That’s wonderful. I look forward to your work, Assistant Minister Wei.”
Wei Ren started to panic.
Why wasn’t he reacting at all!?
Determined, he tried again, more directly: “After hearing about my three-year plan, does Xu Lang have any thoughts?”
“Huh?” Xu Yanmiao blinked blankly. “Thoughts?”
[Could it be…]
Wei Ren nodded eagerly.
Yes, yes, yes! That’s it!
[Assistant Minister Wei must be a very structured man, so he probably wants to know if others also have long-term plans.]
[But I really don’t… Does lying flat count? My plan is to continue being a salted fish for the next three years.]
Wei Ren almost burst into tears.
No! Not that! Three-year plan! I meant a marriage plan!!!
After a mental scream, Wei Ren maintained his smiling facade and politely listened as Xu Yanmiao described how he had no specific plans in the coming years, and then continued smiling. “No worries, I was just asking.”
When it was their turn in line, Assistant Minister Wei approached the elderly Daoist with utmost reverence and sincerely asked for a talisman for his career. Xu Yanmiao, since he was already there, felt it would be impolite not to get one too—so he paid for a wealth-enhancing talisman.
What neither of them realized was that this act of purchasing a talisman made its way back to the old emperor—and triggered another wave of excitement.
It’s solid now! Rock-solid!
Even little Bai Ze paid for a talisman—how could it possibly not be effective!?
As a result, after Xu Yanmiao left that day, officials One, Two, Three, Four, and Five all snuck out, each trying to cover their faces while secretly visiting the Daoist priest for talismans.
Some got one, some didn’t.
The next day in court, the old emperor unleashed a storm of fury, scolding several people harshly. Some of them had actually made mistakes, while others were clearly being nitpicked for trivial things.
But no one dared to say: “Your Majesty, which two characters did I join incorrectly in my writing that displeased your eye?” Because for such a thing to cause such thunderous rage—that was clearly finding fault for the sake of it.
Was the emperor just looking for someone to yell at?
Oh, there was still someone brave enough to speak up—
[So tragic… He’s just being used as a punching bag.]
[Not only was his handwriting criticized, he was told to swallow ink? That’s just too miserable. And honestly, it’s not even bad handwriting! Joining strokes when writing fast is totally normal, right?]
[Bosses like this are impossible to please.]
[There’s too much work, sometimes it even eats into holidays, and now people can’t even write fast? Just because the boss is in a bad mood, he takes it out on others.]
Exactly!!!
The ministers almost wanted to slap their thighs in agreement—if they hadn’t been standing in court.
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[Then again, it’s understandable. There’s only one imperial court—if you want power, you’ve got to sacrifice something.]
[If you don’t want to be scolded, you can resign.]
The old emperor had been sulking, but after hearing that, he grudgingly snorted in anger instead.
Exactly!
These officials wield the power he grants them, and power isn’t handed out for free. They want to command the wind and rain, control national affairs, and still expect the emperor to be kind and reverent toward his ministers? Dream on!
—Of course, Gao Tiezhu was deliberately forgetting that in previous dynasties, such scenarios did exist.
[Huh? Funny coincidence—His Majesty also went to ask that Daoist for a charm yesterday but was rejected, so he’s taking it out on ministers today?]
Some ministers hadn’t been summoned the day before and had no idea what happened. Hearing such strange remarks, they were completely confused.
Which Daoist? What happened yesterday? Wasn’t there nothing going on except the prodigy exam?
Also, if the emperor was rejected and now he’s venting by nitpicking ministers… Your Majesty, that’s really…
Some ministers showed subtle disapproval on their faces, which softened their otherwise stern expressions.
But the old emperor kept a straight face, completely unfazed.
What? Disapproval? Where? His ministers are all obedient! Getting scolded a bit is no big deal.
—Truly, he had mastered the imperial art of thick skin and a hardened heart.
[Isn’t rejection normal? You asked for a health charm for the crown prince, fine. But then you wanted a charm that would make him work hard, sleep only two hours a night, process 800 memorials a day, and still have the energy for more?]
—Though the old emperor had rephrased things at the time, avoiding the words “review” and “memorial,” the implication had been the same.
[That’s a Daoist, not a turtle in a wishing pool!]
“!!!”
The crown prince, who rarely attended court, suddenly looked up at his father with a conflicted expression.
No wonder I felt so uneasy yesterday!
Father! Are you really my father?! You’re working me like a donkey!
Not only did the old emperor not avoid his son’s gaze, he glared right back.
What’s the problem? If your father could do it, why can’t you? It’s way easier than farming, begging, or being a slave!
If you weren’t so disappointing, would I need to go ask for charms?!
The crown prince bowed his head in grievance.
Fine, you’re the father. And the emperor-father, at that. You’re right.
[Ah, but the Daoist didn’t even know who you were. He was just doing things by the book—if he couldn’t do it, he said your fortune wasn’t enough. Now the emperor is holding a grudge and planning to tax him? That’s so petty!]
[Daoists selling charms aren’t even supposed to pay taxes!]
Ah…
A wave of heat mixed with guilt surged to the emperor’s face—but he suppressed it immediately.
‘What’s the problem?! He said the emperor’s fortune was lacking—how could I not be mad?!’
The old emperor was indignant.
Suddenly, a thought flashed in his mind: Wait, what did Xu Yanmiao say just now? What did he mean by ‘something he couldn’t do’…?
[Also, Assistant Minister Wei reconciling with his friend had nothing to do with the charm. It was the Daoist who, after learning the full story, chased after the friend for two days and nights to persuade him—that’s what worked.]
[But even he couldn’t talk a lazy bum into working—especially working that much.]
[So what else could he say but “you lack fortune”?]
The old emperor: “!!!”
Wait a second?!
Were those charms… fake?!
The ministers who had actually bought charms: “???”
But Assistant Minister Wei? He had no reaction at all.
He was surprisingly calm?!
Someone beside him took a closer look—Assistant Minister Wei’s face was deathly pale, drained of all blood.
This wasn’t calmness—he was completely stunned.
“You okay?”
Clearly, no.
Seeing him frozen and speechless, his neighbor tried to comfort him: “So what if you were scammed? If you’re that angry, just go smash the guy’s stall…”
“No…” Assistant Minister Wei finally spoke, though his face had stiffened unconsciously. “Me being scammed is nothing. It’s not the first time. But this time, I dragged the three Dukes and nine Ministers into it too.”
—Including the emperor.
Assistant Minister Wei clearly remembered that even though His Majesty hadn’t gotten a charm, he still brought home a full-sized, properly consecrated bronze wealth god statue, and even had the Daoist help him arrange the altar. On top of that, he bought nineteen goldfish—golden ones—because it was said they bring wealth!
And the Right Prime Minister! He brought the Daoist into his home, made a bunch of changes, even ripped out his beloved plants and replaced them with broadleaf trees. His favorite screen? Tossed out because the Daoist said its height was wrong.
Most crucial of all: his direct boss—the Minister of Revenue! That miserly man was persuaded to buy a bunch of lucky gemstones, and even got everyone in his family a feng shui bracelet!
“It’s over… it’s all over…”
Assistant Minister Wei suddenly clutched his chest and staggered a few steps back.
If the Daoist had been spouting nonsense, maybe they could demand compensation. But he’d studied metaphysics for years—he knew the feng shui setup and the lucky stones were all legitimate. Maybe not as magical as claimed, but definitely not fakes.
The problem was—the emperor, the prime minister, the ministers, his colleagues… wouldn’t have spent all that money if they hadn’t believed in him.
They couldn’t get a refund from the Daoist, so who would they go after?
The answer was obvious.
How much would he have to pay?!
Assistant Minister Wei went dizzy on the spot.
Your Majesty, you only said you wanted someone to bear the shame for you. You didn’t say it would cost me a fortune too!
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