Chapter 102: Parallel World (1)
The fifth year of Dingyuan in a parallel timeline.
On New Year’s Eve, there was a palace banquet.
The Song Kingdom had just been unified, and the ministers of the Qi Kingdom were all in high spirits.
The young emperor sat on his high seat, one hand holding a wine cup, the other propping up his head, his gaze lowered on the ministers below.
He had many close attendants, most of whom had followed him since he was the Duke of Ding. Now they lifted their cups, laughing and chatting merrily.
Yet Fu Xun felt as if something was missing. He raised his cup and drained it in one gulp.
Eunuch Yang came forward to refill it.
Fu Xun glanced at the people below and casually asked, “Why isn’t the Han family here?”
During the former emperor’s reign, the Han family had been demoted over certain matters. Last year, the Han family returned to the capital. Han Shi had distinguished himself in the unification of Song and had been appointed general.
Eunuch Yang explained, “The second grandson of Old Historian Han, Han Min, died shortly after birth. On New Year’s Eve, the Han family has been praying for him—this has been a tradition for over twenty years.”
After a moment, Eunuch Yang noticed two or three senior ministers signaling to step forward and reminded the emperor: “Your Majesty, these ministers are about to urge you regarding the selection of an empress. If you are unwilling…”
Before he could finish, Fu Xun stood up and, with a flick of his sleeve, left.
The palace banquet ended there.
—
On the white jade terrace, red plum blossoms bloomed.
Fu Xun hadn’t worn his cloak, and the wine warmed him, so he didn’t feel cold.
He walked deeper into the plum grove, where suddenly a white cat leapt out from the snow-covered ground.
A strange voice asked, “Your Majesty, do you want a wife?”
Fu Xun thought he must be drunk.
And what’s a wife anyway?
He didn’t need a wife! A true emperor didn’t need a wife!
—
In the courtyard with white walls and black tiles, six-year-old Fu Xun hugged his hands, leaning against the wall, indifferently watching his younger brother, Fu Rang, run wildly around the yard with a kite.
After getting drunk on the white jade terrace, Qi Emperor, Fu Xun, woke up in this strange place.
He had been here for six years, growing to this age.
If what that strange voice had said back then was true, he didn’t even know what kind of wife this little kid could find at this age.
Moreover, he realized that the people in this world were no different from those in Qi.
There were two households in this courtyard: the Fu family and the Wei family. Wei Gui, the Wei family’s son, had once been a general in Qi.
At the alley entrance was a kindergarten, run by Eunuch Yang, with teacher Old Scholar Liu. Liu’s eldest grandson was Liu Ting, who had a friend named Jiang Huan. There was also a small clinic, run by Doctor Liang.
All of this was just a change of environment; none of the people around him had changed.
A wife? There was no wife at all. He had been tricked.
Fu Xun thought this while biting hard into the candy in his hand.
The summer sky was cloudless, the heat oppressive, and without wind, Fu Rang’s kite couldn’t fly.
He dragged the kite over to Fu Xun. “Brother.”
Fu Xun asked, “Is there money in your piggy bank? Go buy some soda.”
Fu Rang hesitated. “Grandpa told us to wait here, see if a car comes.”
“Go quickly, come back quickly. Do you want soda?”
“Yes.”
As soon as he said this, Fu Rang dropped the kite and ran inside.
No wife here, but plenty of snacks—Fu Xun’s trip wasn’t wasted.
Fu Rang took the money and followed behind Fu Xun. One went ahead, the other behind, both hurrying out of the alley.
Just as they left, a small truck stopped at the alley entrance, followed by a green tricycle.
A little boy held his white cat, sitting on a small stool.
The Han family wasn’t rich, and the tricycle was the cheapest option before it was restricted on the roads.
Big brother Han Shi and uncle Han Zhongqi told him to wait here obediently while they moved things from the truck.
Grandpa Han walked down the alley and stopped in front of the courtyard, shouting loudly: “Old Fu?”
Elderly, energetic Grandpa Fu came out with a smile and shook his hand. “You’ve arrived?”
Han Zhongqi and Han Shi carried in furniture.
Grandpa Fu quickly said, “The five rooms on the left side are all yours.”
He looked at Grandpa Han. “I told our two boys to wait outside and notify me if a car came, but now they’re nowhere to be seen. Where’s your grandson?”
Grandpa Han pointed to Han Shi: “That’s the older one. The younger one… the younger one?”
His little grandson Han Min still held his cat, sitting obediently on a small stool.
Fu Xun held a chilled soda, inserted the straw, and just before taking a sip, saw Han Min.
To keep him from dirtying his clothes, the family had sewn him a little blue smock.
Han Min’s back faced him; he looked so gentle and obedient, and the wind ruffled his hair, making it appear extra soft.
Fu Rang tugged at his brother’s sleeve. “Brother, is that the person grandpa wants us to wait for at home?”
Fu Xun ran forward: “Sister—”
Han Min turned abruptly, showing his face, and even held up his cat for him.
Not only am I a boy, but my cat is a boy too!
Fu Xun clearly didn’t understand, raising the soda bottle: “Sister, do you want some—”
When the two grandfathers arrived at the alley looking for their grandchildren, Fu Xun and Han Min had already rolled on the ground several times, with the little white cat trying to join in, its fur dusty and gray. Fu Rang watched in astonishment.
It took a while to grab their collars and separate them like catching little chicks.
Han Min’s blue smock was covered in dust. Grandpa Han patted him: “What were you doing?”
Han Min pointed at Fu Xun angrily: “He called me ‘sister’!”
After saying that, he hugged his grandfather’s neck, refusing to show his face.
He was always mistaken for a girl. Whether it was Grandpa’s friends, uncle’s colleagues, or his brother’s classmates, they all called him “little sister.” Little boy Han Min could hardly bear it.
Fu Xun only realized he wasn’t a little girl when Han Min spoke earlier.
Grandpa Fu coughed: “A-xun, how can you behave like this?”
Fu Xun didn’t speak. Grandpa Fu continued, “Old Han, the child isn’t hurt, right? Fu Xun is strong, but your boy is fair-skinned…”
Han Min and Fu Xun both rolled up their sleeves: “He scratched my arm.”
The injuries were identical, perhaps scratched by a stone.
“That’s just in time to go to Old Liang’s clinic, right ahead.”
The elders had been comrades: Grandpa Fu was an officer, Grandpa Han a civil official, Doctor Liang worked at the infirmary.
After retirement, Grandpa Han returned home, and today they had moved back here.
Fu family had several extra rooms, so Grandpa Fu let the Han family move in.
On the first day, the kids fought.
The small clinic was clean, and the two children sat far apart on a bench.
Fu Xun held his arm, watching Old Doctor Liang treat Han Min’s wounds.
That was supposed to be my imperial physician.
He remembered the Han family: the second grandson of Old Historian Han had died shortly after birth—but in this world, he hadn’t.
Annoying.
Even if he lived in Qi, he probably wouldn’t be liked.
Seeing him glance over, Han Min made a funny face; Fu Xun retaliated.
Fu Rang cautiously sat beside him, whispering, “Brother, you didn’t used to be like this.”
“How?”
Fu Xun had always been aloof, acting like an adult, disliking children in the courtyard. Today, he seemed… a bit childish.
Though reluctant, Fu Xun couldn’t decide the living arrangements. The Han family stayed in the same courtyard.
Han Min and Fu Xun’s rooms were very close, in opposite corners with windows facing each other.
They fought as soon as they met. The parents tried to make them reconcile, but they quarreled immediately—stepping on each other’s toes or shoving. Liang’s clinic profited.
The best solution was to minimize their time alone together.
Yet Han Min was well-liked. The older generation in the alley adored him, gave him candy, and wanted to be his honorary grandfathers.
Within days, all the neighborhood kids recognized him and invited him to play. Even Fu Rang was drawn in.
Fu Xun, as emperor of Qi, usually scorned playing with them, only occasionally getting annoyed hearing their laughter.
—
Soon, it was September, the start of the school year. Kindergarten Director Yang, warned by the parents, kept Fu Xun and Han Min apart.
So whether eating snacks or watching TV, they sat far apart.
Their relationship was poor, but their older brothers got along well.
Han Min’s brother Han Shi transferred here for middle school, attending the same school as Fu Xun’s brother Fu Lin. They rode bikes to school together.
In the evening, passing the kindergarten, they picked up their younger brothers.
Han Min sat on the back seat of the bike, clutching his brother’s coat tightly.
The two bikes rode side by side, with Fu Xun also on a back seat.
The two boys glared at each other; Fu Rang sat on the front bar, laughing like a little fool.
Autumn arrived quickly. During the season change, Fu Xun fell ill for no reason.
He prided himself on being strong, but Grandpa Fu thought it was from too many snacks.
The fever came strangely at night. Doctor Liang gave him a bottle of red syrupy medicine—not unpleasant, even a little sweet.
After some improvement, he had another fever the following night.
He lay in bed intermittently for days, while the other children peeked through the window.
Han Min did not come.
That night, half-asleep, he felt someone touch his forehead.
He struggled to open his eyes; the room was dark. Han Min sat at the bedside, seriously mimicking Old Doctor Liang—touching his forehead, then his own.
He was too shy to come with others, so he came alone.
Fu Xun felt touched, but then Han Min said, “Fu Xun, don’t die.”
With such a serious expression, Fu Xun’s earlier sentiment vanished. Flushing, he finally said, “I won’t die.”
He didn’t notice when Han Min left. The curtains remained open, and the bright moonlight filled the room.
Fu Xun got up, took paper and pen, wanting to write something.
He had a premonition that after recovering, he wouldn’t remember Qi Kingdom at all.
But what did he want to record?
After thinking, he wrote on a single piece of paper and tucked it into the bed gap.
