Chapter 101: A Sip of Milk Tea
The plaque above the Zichen Hall read the four large characters, “Integrity and Clarity.” Beneath the plaque sat the dragon throne.
Han Min was pressed against the chair by Fu Xun, kissed over and over again.
He glared at Fu Xun fiercely: “Is this the place for doing this kind of thing?”
Fu Xun lowered his head and pecked him.
“Stop kissing me… the ministers below…”
Another peck.
In reality, there was no one else in the hall; it was just Han Min rambling.
Han Min gritted his teeth: “Beast.”
Another kiss.
—
They hadn’t seen each other for over half a year. Now that they had, Fu Xun refused to let go.
After having dinner at Funing Hall, as before, Fu Xun escorted him home.
It was early autumn, and the night wind carried a faint chill.
A carriage waited far off; the two stood at the alley entrance talking.
Fu Xun stood in front of him, shielding him from the wind.
After chatting casually for a while, Han Min said, “I’ll go home and find a chance to talk to my family. Once I sort things out here, you can come over.”
“Alright.” Fu Xun suddenly said, “I’ll be going north this time to see my elder brother.”
“Elder brother?” Han Min thought for a moment before realizing.
Ah, my elder brother.
Han Min said seriously, “Don’t get in his face too much, he’ll hit you.”
That was very true; he knew both of them well.
He lowered his gaze and continued: “Luckily, my brother isn’t in Yong’an right now, or else I don’t even know…”
Footsteps echoed in the alley. Han Min turned and inhaled sharply.
Isn’t that the elder brother who used to hit people?
Han Shi came out of the alley, sword in hand, face cold, casting him a glance.
Han Min smiled awkwardly, stammering, “Brother… when… when did you get back?”
“Didn’t His Majesty tell you? I stayed behind to cover the army. I’ll be back this afternoon.”
“Nope.”
No wonder Fu Xun had been in such a hurry to show Han Min the book catalog and proposed immediately after coming.
So the elder brother guarding the cabbages had returned this afternoon.
Han Min, seeing the sword in his brother’s arms, was startled. He stepped forward half a step and stretched out a hand, putting Fu Xun behind him.
He boldly met Han Shi’s gaze: “Brother, actually I provoked him first.”
Even Han Min couldn’t fully explain why; it was because Han Shi was here that he said so.
Han Shi scolded, exasperated: “You’re protecting him? How old are you? How old is he?”
“Same age.”
“Bullshit.”
In Han Shi’s eyes, Han Min was only in his teens, absolutely not older than eighteen.
Han Min hurriedly said, “Then it’s just that I’m childish for my age.”
Who talks about themselves like that?
Han Shi nearly got angry enough to faint, grabbed his collar, and was about to take him home.
“Come on, go tell Grandfather yourself.”
“I will, Grandfather will be better at it than you anyway.”
He almost got lifted off the ground by Han Shi. Walking, he waved to Fu Xun, signaling him not to worry.
The two brothers returned home. Grandfather Han sat in the hall, smiling at Han Shi: “You brought your brother back?”
Han Shi nodded stiffly: “Yes.”
Han Min felt uneasy.
He had planned to slowly tell Grandfather about this matter. Now that his elder brother knew, there was no more delaying.
He lowered his head, waiting for his brother to speak, considering how to respond to Grandfather.
But Han Shi just glanced at him and pushed him forward: “Go.”
Han Min looked at him, then at Grandfather.
Passing through the corridor, Han Shi said, “I’m afraid you’ll make Grandfather sick with worry.”
Han Min whispered: “I’ll tell him myself.”
—
Fu Xun stood at the alley entrance for a long time. He didn’t hear much, but he still couldn’t relax and prepared to climb the wall to check.
Though Han Min had been made Marquis Wen Ding, and Han Shi was a general, they still lived in the old residence because Grandfather liked it.
There weren’t many attendants; a few guards had been sent over by Fu Xun before, and a few others had been hired by Han Min later.
The Han residence walls weren’t high. Fu Xun had climbed in as a child.
He knew the layout well. The guards he sent recognized him. Sneaking into Han Min’s room was a simple matter.
Late at night, when Fu Xun pushed open the window, Han Min was sitting at the desk with wet hair, holding the white cat.
Fu Xun cleared his throat. Han Min turned, saw him, and panicked, flinching so that the cat’s fur puffed up.
He put the cat down and ran to the window: “How did you get here?”
Fu Xun brushed his wet hair, took off the shawl draped over his shoulders, and helped him dry his hair.
“I came to check on you. I’m afraid your brother will hit you.”
Han Min said seriously: “My brother won’t hit me. He’ll hit you.” He patted Fu Xun’s shoulder: “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
“I can beat your brother.”
“You dare?”
As they spoke, the white cat jumped onto the windowsill.
Han Min held it in his arms, covering its eyes and ears.
The night was deep.
—
After sending Fu Xun off through the back door, Han Min carried his bedding to the next room.
He knocked on the door: “Brother? Is my dear brother here?”
Soon someone came to open the door.
“Second brother, are you crazy?”
Han Pei, already ten, looked at him with a complex expression, moved aside, letting him in.
Han Min cleared his throat: “Have you memorized the passages Grandfather assigned? What are you doing here?”
“Big brother wants to talk to me.”
“Oh, finish and go to sleep. Big brother and I have things to discuss too.”
Han Min patted his head, swinging himself inside, and tossed the bedding onto the bed.
He nudged Han Shi, trying to get his approval, but Han Shi didn’t say a word.
Han Pei suddenly said: “Big brother, I want to learn Emei stabbing technique.”
Only then did Han Shi react, lifting his eyelids: “Fine.”
“I don’t think so.”
Han Min tried to object, but it was useless.
Han Pei blew out the lamp: “Perfect, we brothers haven’t slept together in a while.”
“You’re so big, there’s no way to fit…”
Han Min tried to object again; still no use.
So he ended up sandwiched between the two—
One already skilled in Emei stabbing, one soon to be.
He stared at the canopy, wondering why he even came.
Han Pei had been silly as a child, distracted when Grandfather taught him literacy.
A few years older, he seemed to have a moment of insight, becoming steady and mature.
After a while, Han Min said: “So… Pei’er, you knew too?”
“I didn’t know.”
Han Min sighed in relief.
“I was just blind.”
Han Min felt his heart drop.
“A few years ago, on the day Second Brother tied his crown, we were walking on the street. When he came, Second Brother sent me home and left. I was silly then, but not now.”
Han Min pressed his lips: “I don’t even remember. We used to say he was silly, yet he remembered so clearly from years ago.”
His brother didn’t speak. Han Min paused in the dark, then patted Han Pei’s head: “Sorry. I won’t do it again.”
Han Pei looked at him: “What’s so good about that?”
Han Min thought for a long time: “Nothing’s good, but if I don’t, it goes bad.”
He sighed: “I’d feel terrible, crying all day, then die young…”
He had said similar things to Gong Yang in the past, who eventually gave in.
After a long silence, Han Shi finally spoke: “What nonsense are you talking?”
Han Min hugged his younger brother, and Han Shi pondered for a while.
—
In the end, he couldn’t resist Han Min’s determination.
Han Min spent days convincing his brothers before daring to take Eunuch Yang to see Grandfather.
With his adoptive grandfather holding his side, Han Min wasn’t beaten. He spent a few more days.
Finally, he spoke to his mother. Madam Yuan was furious immediately:
“I told you years ago you’d run away with him, yet you didn’t believe me! Han Min!”
“Your dear son, Min Min, is here. Maybe you want another dear son-in-law?”
Madam Yuan needed several days to calm down.
Once most of the family had accepted it, he dared to bring Fu Xun over.
Previously, Fu Xun was emperor; ceremonial courtesy sufficed.
Now, presenting himself like this, the Han family felt stiff, even a bit embarrassed.
In the end, they didn’t object.
That day, Han Shi and Han Pei practiced Emei stabbing in the courtyard.
Afterwards, everything went much more smoothly.
Han Min disliked luxury. With the frontlines still active, savings were preferred.
As Fu Xun expected, Han Min, now Marquis Wen Ding and one of the key ministers implementing new laws, left no one daring to comment on this matter. Only a few readers of “The Emperor and the Imperial Record Officer” went a little crazy.
No national treasury funds were used. The betrothal gifts from the palace were about a hundred boxes of ancient books from Song, plus Fu Xun’s own assets.
The Han family sent back dozens of boxes of books: his own, Grandfather’s collection, and some from Old Scholar Liu.
Eunuch Yang generously handed over property deeds he had accumulated for over ten years.
Though the display wasn’t lavish, the contents of the boxes were all valuable.
Little tycoon Han Min exclaimed with joy.
After barely looking at the books, it was the day of departure.
Early in the morning, someone dragged him out of bed to wash and dress.
Soon he heard laughter outside. Han Pei rushed in: “Second Brother, they’ve arrived.”
He, being male, didn’t cover his head or ride a bridal sedan. His red robe carried its own dignity.
Originally, Fu Xun would come from the palace to fetch him. He would leave on foot, and they would ride back together.
Han Shi had been practicing weightlifting in the courtyard for months.
It wasn’t that Han Min was heavy; Han Shi feared jolting him while carrying him.
No choice—he had to let his elder brother carry him out.
Now Fu Xun arrived with his people. Han Shi half-squatted in front of him.
“Get on, Brother will carry you out.”
Han Min lay on his brother’s back, smiling: “Brother.”
“The tenth box has weapons. Pick a few you’re comfortable with in case a fight breaks out…”
“It’s not like when we were kids.”
Fu Xun, also in red, rode outside, eyes fixed on Han Min.
Han Min smiled at him, secretly waving.
Silly. Han Shi noticed, cleared his throat to remind him.
Once outside, following no real precedent—previously this hadn’t happened—Han Min should have cried, but instead he smiled at Grandfather and Mother: “It’s fine. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Like he was just going on a trip.
Hearing this, Grandfather and Mother didn’t hold him back and even urged him to leave promptly.
Han Min went to Fu Xun, mounted the horse, threw him a glance, and the procession slowly moved.
Han Min seemed nervous and muttered to himself:
“Why am I riding this horse today? Don’t blow your whistle.”
“You look good in red. I never saw you like this before.”
“Almost there?”
Fu Xun held his hand.
There were many onlookers. Han Min felt embarrassed, turning his head.
He suddenly saw someone with a bronze gong in the crowd—
A loyal reader of Pine Smoke Ink Guest. Whenever a new issue came out, he would beat the gong.
Later, he seemed to like the “Imperial Record Officer” series.
Han Min met his gaze, touched his chest, and staggered.
Just as Han Min wanted to speak, someone helped him up, mumbling: “Really, really, it’s all real.”
—
Royal ceremonies differed from ordinary households.
After entering the palace, they went to the Mingtang Hall for worship.
Fu Xun didn’t take him to the side hall for offering to past emperors, only to the palaces of Emperor Dezong and the late Crown Prince.
By the time the ceremonies ended, it was evening.
At the Funing Hall, candlelight flickered. After drinking the union wine, Han Min sat at the table, eating calmly.
He wasn’t very hungry, having already been fed snacks at noon by Fu Xun.
He set down his jade chopsticks and looked at Fu Xun: “Aren’t you eating?”
Fu Xun, suppressing his overt gaze, said lightly: “No need.”
Han Min picked up his chopsticks again: “Oh.”
Fu Xun served him some food: “Eat more.”
“Okay.”
The hall was quiet. Fu Xun sat in front of him, watching the candlelight in Han Min’s eyes dance.
Han Min looked up: “Don’t look at me like that. If you want to eat, eat. I didn’t stop you…”
Before he could finish, Fu Xun pressed his head down and “ate” him.
“I didn’t mean that kind of ‘eat.’”
Fu Xun carried him toward the inner room.
Han Min glanced at the dishes: “I haven’t finished eating.”
Fu Xun said: “Eat when you’re hungry. I’ll have them make you milk tea.”
Once placed on the bed, Han Min instinctively curled up.
Fu Xun’s hand on his shoulder trembled slightly. Han Min swallowed: “Did you practice this before?”
Fu Xun blinked, then leaned down and pecked him: “I dreamed about it.”
Han Min muttered a curse quietly. That single curse, and he was laid down on the bed.
After a long while, Fu Xun still noticed Han Min’s tight grip on the canopy.
He squeezed Han Min’s fingers, asking him to relax, freeing the crumpled canopy.
He placed Han Min’s hand on his own waist.
—
At some point, the moonlight streaming through the east window shifted to the west. Han Min, drowsy, was led to wash, then returned.
He drank only a couple of sips of the long-awaited milk tea before losing the ability to continue, lying on the bed, ready to fall asleep.
Fu Xun was alert, helping him cover the blanket, thumb brushing his flushed earlobe.
Never satisfied.
Han Min buried himself deeper under the blanket, opening his mouth as if speaking in his sleep.
Fu Xun leaned closer, catching only a whispered: “Fu Dog.”
Indeed, even in his dreams.
Fu Xun smiled in satisfaction, wrapping him in his arms.
Some time later, Han Min murmured, whining: “Fu Dog, you lied. You never learned it.”
