Chapter 100: Feeding the Tiger with One’s Own Body
Night fell over the old capital of Song, the waning moon hanging high, shrouded by clouds, the city enveloped in mist.
Although the Qi army had entered the city without disturbing the civilians, the previous night the people of Song had still lit their lamps early, fearful of attracting attention.
Han Shi stood alone atop the city wall, hands clasped behind his back.
Footsteps hurried behind him.
Wei Gui strode forward: “Brother Han, what are you doing here? Everyone below is waiting for you to join the drinking! Today we captured the old capital of Song, and His Majesty specifically awarded wine…”
Had he mentioned someone he shouldn’t have?
Wei Gui hastily fell silent.
Han Shi turned to look at him, his gaze cold. He raised his fist and struck the wall.
The Song city wall had already endured battle and suffered heavy damage. With his punch, some stones crumbled and fell.
Wei Gui suddenly felt a chill down his back and tried to step back: “If you don’t want to drink, that’s fine—I’ll tell them for you.”
Han Shi suddenly asked, “How old is Min-Min?”
“This…”
“How old? How old is he?”
Wei Gui swallowed. “He’s… twenty-four this year.”
The stones crashed with a loud noise.
Han Shi said steadily, “He’s only in his teens, definitely no older than eighteen.”
Wei Gui looked puzzled. What kind of logic was this? Did a brother somehow reduce his younger brother’s age? Rewrite destiny?
“You have a younger brother too. You must understand.”
“No, no,” Wei Gui waved his hands. “I don’t know.”
“Right, Wei Huan isn’t very adorable anyway.”
Wei Gui’s eyes widened. He stepped forward and argued fiercely: “What do you mean? Han Shi, just talk about your own brother, why drag my brother into this?”
Han Shi ignored his anger and turned his gaze southward.
A hawk spread its wings and flew from the south.
Han Shi recognized it—it was the hawk raised by Han Min, named Radish Head. It even knew to deliver messages to his brother; he had some conscience, at least.
Han Shi feigned indifference and raised a hand to catch it, but Radish Head bypassed him entirely and flew over the palace wall.
He looked back to see the hawk outside Fu Xun’s residence.
Wei Gui, blunt as ever, said: “Brother Han, stop biting, your teeth will break.”
—
This expedition by the emperor was entirely for the rare books and scrolls of Song.
Han Min hadn’t deliberately mentioned any of this to Fu Xun, but Fu Xun had always been attentive.
However, one unfortunate event occurred: Han Min’s master, the elderly Mr. Gongsun, after the Qi army entered the city, did not wait for Fu Xun to send someone to the Gongsun residence. Supporting himself with his frail body, he went to the lake and drowned himself.
In fact, the lake was shallow, only reaching the waist when standing.
At the Gongsun residence, whether defending the city or taking their own lives, the entire household died for Song.
Fu Xun told Han Min about this and had the corpses of the Gongsun family sent to Song’s new capital.
Song’s ruler didn’t want to handle it initially, but fearing Fu Xun’s displeasure, he posthumously granted Gongsun a title and held a funeral.
Han Min grieved for a long time.
One day, when he went to the Duke of Yue residence for a meeting, he hadn’t entered yet when he heard Chu Yu speaking.
“They’ve brought in so many new scholars. Song’s scholars are even more refined and handsome. I’m afraid you won’t stand a chance.”
He glanced back unconsciously and saw Han Min clasping his hands, smiling broadly, and stepping forward to link arms with him.
“You don’t know yet? His Majesty brought back several scholars from Song, including one particularly handsome young lord, and instructed his attendants to treat him well. We don’t mind, but you…”
As he spoke, he watched Han Min’s expression.
Han Min clapped his hands happily: “Wonderful, new friends are coming.”
Chu Yu frowned deeply. This might be a fool.
—
Leaving Wei Gui and Han Shi to continue north with the army, Fu Xun organized all the books and scrolls from the Song palace and led a convoy of hundreds of carts south.
By early autumn, they arrived in the capital. Civil and military officials waited outside the gates of Yong’an city.
Han Min stood in front, seeing the army approaching from afar, Fu Xun at the head on horseback.
The officials bowed low and shouted. Han Min had no time to look closely and quickly followed suit.
Soon, Fu Xun reached him, dismounted, and flicked his official hat: “Rise.”
The officials stood and adjusted their robes.
Fu Xun straightened Han Min’s clothing and helped him onto the horse.
The two rode together into the palace.
It had been over half a year since they last met. Although they had corresponded daily, Fu Xun missed him greatly.
Upon seeing him, he immediately hugged Han Min tightly.
Fu Xun took the opportunity to tug at his belt: “Slimmer again.”
“No.”
Han Min turned to look and saw the long convoy.
“What’s in those? Boxes?”
“A bit…” Fu Xun paused. “Spoils of war.”
“Oh.”
He looked again and suddenly met the gaze of a young lord he hadn’t seen before.
The young lord smiled and nodded at him. Han Min was momentarily stunned and then smiled back.
Fu Xun pressed his head down and turned him: “Looking at what?”
Han Min pouted unconsciously: “Looking at the new scholar lord you brought back.”
Fu Xun smiled silently, brushing the corner of his mouth against Han Min’s temple.
—
By the time they arrived at Zichen Hall, it was nearly noon.
After the officials departed, several regents remained to discuss urgent matters.
During the discussion, someone came to announce: “Your Majesty, Young Lord Xu requests an audience.”
The young lord from Song was surnamed Xu.
Fu Xun said: “Have him bring the items over.”
A court attendant brought up a wooden tray with a document, but Fu Xun didn’t look at it, letting the others continue their business.
Han Min sat beside him, curious but embarrassed to ask, craning his neck to peek.
Noticing Han Min’s small movements, Fu Xun raised a hand to block the document. Han Min’s eyes widened in disbelief.
There was a problem—a big problem.
Then, after the announcement “We take our leave,” he came back to himself.
Han Min hastily gathered his things to follow, but Fu Xun said: “Lord Han, stay. I have something to say to you.”
In front of others, he always called him “Lord Han,” but now it carried a different meaning.
The Duke of Yue smiled: “Oh, His Majesty wants to speak to Min-Min.”
Han Min had intended to stay, but hearing this, he felt embarrassed and couldn’t leave.
He walked down the jade steps, only to be blocked by the attendants.
“Where are you going? His Majesty wants to speak to you.”
After everyone left, only the two of them remained in Zichen Hall. Han Min remembered the document and felt displeased, folding his arms and turning his back to Fu Xun.
Fu Xun approached from behind and lightly poked the small of his back.
Han Min twisted and leaned to the side to dodge.
Fu Xun’s tone was a little wronged: “After such a long time, why won’t you talk to me?”
Han Min extended his hand: “Then show me the document.”
This time he was straightforward. Fu Xun placed it in his hands.
The document was thick, dozens of pages long. Han Min opened the first page, which listed several book titles, recording the authors and chapters.
He flipped a few more pages.
—Twenty-six volumes, two hundred and thirty scrolls, historical texts.
There were other families’ works behind this; it was just a simple catalog.
Earlier, when Fu Xun stopped him from looking, he had thought it was something important.
Han Min raised his eyes, but before he could see clearly, Fu Xun scooped him up at the knees.
He was startled and instinctively patted Fu Xun’s shoulder: “Hey? What are you doing?”
It was like a bandit abducting a young lord. Fu Xun held him tightly, afraid he would escape.
Ascending the nine jade steps, Fu Xun placed him on the dragon throne—
Like a bandit putting a young lord on his tiger-skin-covered seat.
Even with just the two of them, Han Min didn’t dare sit. As he tried to stand, Fu Xun pressed him down.
Fu Xun knelt on one knee before him, crashing into his gaze. Han Min suddenly felt nervous.
He clutched his sleeve and whispered: “What’s wrong?”
Fu Xun looked at him: “Han Xici.”
“You speak, I’m listening.”
“Actually, I’m very rich—not from the treasury, but my own estates. If what you said about the communist society isn’t realized soon, in my lifetime, I should be the most powerful man in Qi.”
“I have only three things I like. One is raising hawks; if you think they eat too much, the scale can be reduced. One is martial arts; I’ve trained since childhood and am physically fit. I might have too many weapons, but that can be reduced too.”
“My favorite thing is you. I’ve liked you since childhood. All the fights, pulling your hair ribbons—it was my fault. If you think the dimples on your waist were made by me, I can take responsibility. I’ll fill them in later, press them with my fingers—simple.”
“But you probably don’t know, actually you and I were already betrothed…”
Han Min quickly interrupted: “Stop, stop! Betrothed? Don’t speak nonsense.”
“I did. I unilaterally fixed it, over ten years ago.”
“A unilateral engagement means what…”
Fu Xun lifted his head and looked at him, his eyes dark: “This trip to Song brought back many rare ancient books. If you marry me, all those books will be yours.”
He added: “If you don’t want them, I’ll have to burn them.”
Han Min complained: “You’re a real obstacle to cultural development.”
He stole a glance at Fu Xun and finally smiled, looping his arms around him mockingly: “Well then, I’ll just feed the tiger with my own body.”
Fu Xun’s eyes darkened. Seizing the moment Han Min wasn’t paying attention, he stood up, pressing his hands on the armrests of the dragon throne, trapping him between his arms.
Realizing his predicament, Han Min froze, withdrawing his hands from around Fu Xun’s neck, trying to shrink back into the chair.
Fu Xun was tall, and sunlight streamed in from behind him. As he stood, a large shadow enveloped Han Min.
Han Min looked around. Unless he climbed off the throne, he couldn’t escape.
And now, he deeply regrets it.
He had agreed too quickly, spoken too boldly.
Now that he had been trapped, even Fu Xun’s gaze had changed.
