Chapter 1683: Chapter 1683: Self-Reproach

Song Zhiyuan held the doll as he got into the carriage, carefully pulling out the pins and nails, and then bit his tongue hard.

"Prime Minister?" Jiang Fulai walked over, cautiously inquiring.

"Keep watch, don’t let a single mosquito fly out," Song Zhiyuan looked down at the doll and said, "Head towards Songshan Temple."

Jiang Fulai acknowledged with a sound, went down to give orders, then accompanied Song Zhiyuan to Songshan Temple. Before that, he also dispatched guards to inform the temple.

The wheels rolled noisily over the muddy road, and the official road into the capital was dotted with refugees staggering on foot. Some even collapsed on the ground, and when they saw carriages approaching, they all crowded around to beg, only to be driven away by the guards.

Song Zhiyuan glanced outside at the scene, then looked at the doll in his hand, and closed his eyes.

Blame him, thinking Song Zhiqing harbored hatred in his heart but was like a useless person who couldn’t stir up a storm, everything seemed under control.

But he underestimated the human heart, underestimated the so-called Song family bloodline; it turns out some people are far more insidious and ruthless than imagined.

Turns out, indulgence truly can make someone unrecognizable.

Song Zhiyuan chuckled self-deprecatingly, thinking how he dominated the officialdom for half a life, yet couldn’t guard against such vile, sordid tricks; truly laughable.

"Song Yunzhi, do you deserve to be the son of man?"

Inside the carriage, a voice of self-reproach murmured.

Sitting on the shaft of the carriage, Jiang Fulai heard the low roar from inside the carriage and couldn’t help but wipe the corner of his eye, sniffing and giving his face a slap.

He hadn’t done well; even if the Prime Minister hadn’t given orders, he should’ve had someone keeping a close watch on the third master, rather than relying on notions of human nature and feelings, thinking that the other party hadn’t done anything greatly harmful to the Song Family, thus perceiving a shred of goodwill from them.

Now, he was thoroughly slapped in the face.

The so-called demon rumors are trivial; the critical issue is this Evil Technique.

How insidious and vicious.

The human heart, truly is like the sun, impossible to gaze upon directly.

...

When Song Zhiyuan arrived at Songshan Temple, it was already dark, the abbot had been waiting for him and greeted him inside.

"Master, please perform a soul-guarding ritual for my mother."

Song Zhiyuan didn’t mince words, directly taking out the doll and stating simply.

The abbot was shocked, crafting dolls to seal coffins, suppressed by the Talisman, is an extremely malicious evil technique.

Considering the usual deeds of Song Ci, and seeing Song Zhiyuan’s haggard appearance, the abbot said, "You need not worry, Patron Song. The elder Patron Song has lived a life of kindness and charity, with boundless merits, surely protected by Buddha. I will now perform a blessing and pray for the elder Patron Song, reciting forty-nine verses of the Pharmacist Luli Guangru Lai Benyuan Gongde Scripture."

"Thank you, Master." Song Zhiyuan clasped his hands together, presenting the doll and following the abbot into the hall.

He watched the abbot perform the blessing and recitation, and he himself knelt on the mat in the hall, clasping his hands and praying to Buddha.

If there is sin, he is willing to bear it all.

The night was as dark as ink.

At the foot of the mountain, only scattered lights emerged in the darkness.

Song Zhiyuan stayed for two hours before standing up to walk out of the hall, the sound of chanting still continuous behind him.

Jiang Fulai walked over and urged, "Prime Minister, you’ve traveled all day; please go to the Zen room for some vegetarian meal first."

Song Zhiyuan looked at those lights and said, "Jiang Fulai, do you think I was too arrogant, thinking he was ruined and couldn’t kick up a storm, only to be slapped hard by him?"

He laughed at Song Zhiqing eyeing a minor obstacle, yet how is the other not laughing at his lack of decisiveness, inviting endless regret?

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