There Is a Second Son in the Chen Family

Chen Ke, the second son of the Minister of War, was born with a disease and was unable to leave medicine. He was known to everyone in the capital as a sickly and frail legitimate son. He was favored by the Empress Dowager, but he also became a pawn coveted by everyone in the maelstrom of the court. Fu Huai, the imperial censor, was the most feared person in Beijing. He has a half-ghost face, a ruthless and paranoid temperament, and no one left alive in Yushitai's prison. All civil and military officials in the dynasty are afraid of him, but they have lost their sense of proportion and their hearts and souls towards this Mr. Chen. On the 16th birthday of Chen Ke, the white silk hanging beam was hung, and it was he who broke in through the window and snatched back the weak life from the gate of hell; the palace was in danger and the family was making things difficult for him, but it was he who used thunderous means to clear away all the shadows, and his words, "My people, how can I allow you to talk about it" shocked the capital; it was he who searched for rare medicines all over the world and even tried the medicines on his own body because the decoction and bitter taste of the medicine were so hard to cure. But the thousand-year game between noble families and poor families, the life-and-death struggle between imperial power and vassal kings, could never be reversed by one person. Chen Ke's fate is a thorn in the family's side that must be eliminated, a victim of the checks and balances of imperial power, and a fate that has already been written. Fu Huai gambled on power, reputation, everything, and became the enemy of the world, just to protect his safety for the rest of his life. But in the end, in the clear autumn of Luo Gui, with the dragons in pairs, the man fell into his arms, and said with a weak breath: "Fu Huai, protect the world, and also protect yourself." It was not until the end that everyone realized that this all-out protection was never just a whim of preference. This is the second time that he has tried his best to keep Chen Ke. - Affectionate, paranoid, ruthless and powerful ministers attack × gentle, transparent, sick and weak legitimate son suffers BE aesthetics | Machiavellian ancient style | Soft spot | Strong bond | Fateful end Note: Be decisive in attacking and killing, but be gentle to the extreme; the body of the recipient is weak and the bones are tough, and the heart is full of valleys, so it is not a dodder flower. - When spring first arrived, it was the sixteenth birthday of Chen Ke, the second son of the Minister of War. In the Shangshu Mansion, red tents are hung high, and red lanterns are decorated on the lintels of each mansion. Entering the front yard, several happy birds have fallen on the branches of the century-old laurel tree in the northwest corner, and their chirping sounds are lingering in the spring breeze. It is really a bit of a birthday celebration. In front of the main entrance, Chen Xuanhe, the Secretary of the Ministry of War, was dressed in regular clothes, and beside him stood Zhen Yuanqing, the side chamberlain of the head of the family. The two of them greeted the dignitaries who came to congratulate them. Zhen Yuanqing was wearing a long goose-yellow dress dyed with tulip roots, and her head was covered with pearls and jade. She was smiling when chatting with the female relatives of various families. She looked like a virtuous and stewarding wife, but there was a bit of impatience and jealousy towards the second son hidden in her eyes. Everyone knows that this second young master Chen is the posthumous son of the late wife Lin Ning. He was born prematurely and suffered from a disease. He has been taking medicine since he was a child. He is a sick young man who can't walk without breathing even a few steps. However, he was favored by the Queen Mother. Even on his birthday, the palace sent his father-in-law to congratulate him in person. Even the eldest son of the palace, Chen Shou, could not match him with such honor. Chen Ke didn't care about this himself. He was nesting in the study room in the inner courtyard, listening to the noise outside, and his fingertips gently touched a half-gua Xiu jade single dragon pendant on the table. The jade pendant was slightly cool, and it was the only thought left to him by his mother Lin Ning. The happy birds were chirping noisily outside the window, but he only felt a tightness in his heart, and a familiar sweet smell in his throat. He raised his hand to wipe it away, and found a little scarlet on his fingertips, which fell on the plain white cuffs, like a sad and beautiful flower. This depressing mansion, this frail body, this life that he could not control, for him, there was nothing to miss. He slowly stood up and took down the white silk that had been prepared from the beam. When his fingertips touched the cold silk, he felt somewhat relieved. That's all, living like this, it's better to end it all. The moment Bai Ling was wrapped around his neck, a feeling of suffocation suddenly came over him, and his vision went dark. He seemed to have seen the bright lights on the road to hell, but the second before his consciousness dissipated, he was violently pulled by a brute force - the restraint on his neck suddenly disappeared, and he fell heavily to the ground, gasping for air, and the fishy sweetness in his throat surged even more. In the blurred vision, a figure wearing a black gilt brocade robe was reflected. Half of the man's face was covered with an iron-green ghost mask. The exposed right eye was as deep as a pool, and the fingertips were still touched by the coldness of his neck. His voice was hearty, but there was a trace of unnoticeable trembling: "You are still alive, why are you so eager to see the Ghost King?" Chen Ke raised his eyes and looked into the person's bottomless eyes. At that moment, he felt inexplicably that he had seen these eyes before somewhere, and the eagerness and care in his eyes was definitely not the first time he had seen them. Fu Huai looked at the young man in front of him who was coughing blood and pale but still had handsome features. His fingertips were clenched until they turned white, and his heart seemed to be tightly grasped by a hand, making even breathing painful. Fortunately, fortunately, this time, he caught up. Intention: deep affection