Chapter 109: Later Events (1)
That night, the orchid hall in the palace was still lit.
The books and scrolls acquired from the Song Kingdom were temporarily stored in the hall, where officials organized, selected, and printed them for distribution.
The hall was filled with neatly arranged large bookshelves, stretching into the darkness, seemingly without end. Candlelight flickered dimly behind the stacked volumes. Han Min stood high on a wooden ladder, holding a lantern in one hand while searching through the books with the other.
After a while, the white cat beside him leapt up, hopping onto the shelf in a few bounds, poking its head out as if to help.
Han Min generously offered a book toward it: “Is it this one?”
The system replied, “No.”
“Then it’s probably not on this shelf. Why do you always have me looking for books lately? Doing data entry?”
Despite his words, Han Min continued helping it search.
The white cat nudged his neck with its paw: “You’ve forgotten my original skill—I’m a literature system.”
“Just a few left?”
“Only this one.”
“Then maybe it’s not here. I’ll ask them tomorrow when they come.”
“Alright.” The cat’s beautiful heterochromatic eyes glimmered in the dim light, looking at him as if it had something to say.
The officials had long since left; Han Min was alone, reading. Thinking of the two or three books he hadn’t yet organized, he carefully climbed down from the high shelf.
Before he landed, he felt his waistband tugged.
Instinctively, he gripped the ladder and looked back, exhaling in relief when he saw who it was. “How did you get here?”
Fu Xun had grabbed his waistband, helping him down from the ladder, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist, whispering, “What time is it now?”
“I already sent someone back to tell them.”
The white cat’s heterochromatic eyes fixed on Fu Xun. Fu Xun took the lantern from Han Min and, without hesitation, held his hand: “Your hands are so cold.”
“Are they alright?”
Han Min withdrew his hand and brushed his face with the back of it. Seeing the cat’s glowing eyes staring inquisitively in the dark, the cat twisted its body and purred a little in displeasure.
Fu Xun held his hand again, placing it openly in his own embrace. Indeed, there was no need for caution; here, it seemed, there was only the two of them. Only Han Min knew the system was still present. Alarmed, Han Min quickly blocked it.
The system was displeased.
The white cat leapt from the bookshelf and out the window.
Everyone in the palace knew this was the Wen Ding Hou’s cat; it would not be driven away and often received treats like dried fish.
Fu Xun lowered his gaze to Han Min.
How could he not notice? When alone, Han Min often spoke to this white cat and even let it on the bed. The cat frequently stayed near him while he read. But when Fu Xun approached, if Han Min made a move, the cat would arch its back, fluffing up, and purr aggressively. Any further movement, and the cat would leave.
If this cat hadn’t been personally bought for Han Min by Fu Xun, he might have suspected it had become sentient.
Strange as it was, Han Min hadn’t mentioned it, and Fu Xun didn’t ask, pretending ignorance.
Fu Xun placed the lantern on the shelf, level with Han Min, the dim candlelight illuminating his subtle expressions clearly.
At first, Han Min was puzzled, then Fu Xun’s hand landed on his lower back. Suddenly understanding, Han Min widened his eyes: “You dare—here…”
Fu Xun’s expression did not change as he lowered his head to kiss the corner of Han Min’s eye. Han Min blinked and then returned to his usual composure.
“I haven’t said anything yet. What are you thinking?”
Han Min instinctively touched his eye corner—it wasn’t that he overthought.
On their wedding day, he had mumbled, half-asleep, “Fu Dog, you lied; you never learned this.” Fu Xun had remembered it.
Fu Xun, diligent in such trivialities, had amassed various materials and repeatedly urged Han Min to practice more, always asking if he had improved. Han Min, both embarrassed and annoyed, often could not hold back tears, let alone reply.
Perhaps he misunderstood this time. Han Min pouted: “Then let’s go back.”
He started to walk, but Fu Xun grabbed his waistband, refusing to let him go, whining, “You wrong me like this and don’t even apologize.”
Han Min glanced around; they stood amidst the room full of books—the dowry Fu Xun had given him.
He blew out the candle and, in the darkness, wrapped his hands around Fu Xun’s neck.
—
The palace eunuchs arrived with His Majesty. At the orchid hall gate, the emperor waved them off, entering alone.
After a while, His Majesty returned with little Han.
Fu Xun’s lips were chapped. Han Min, carrying the now-extinguished lantern, felt guilty and dared not look at him.
He handed the lantern to the little attendant: “Accidentally extinguished it.”
They walked down the palace steps side by side. Palace staff respectfully kept their distance. Han Min tugged on Fu Xun’s sleeve, checking if he was still upset.
He wasn’t doing it on purpose—who made Fu Xun touch him? He got nervous for a moment…
Fu Xun deliberately ignored him. Han Min pulled him several times, calling his name repeatedly before he finally turned, eyes dark, focused on Han Min.
Han Min scratched his head and tentatively asked, “Once we get back, it’s all up to you, alright?”
Although spoken softly, Fu Xun heard every word.
He smiled, no longer somber as before: “You learned something new, huh…”
Before he could finish, Han Min pushed him aside angrily and stormed off.
Damn it, he had fallen for it.
—
Holding two positions wasn’t easy.
Previously, he had been both a record keeper and a storyteller, writing nearly every day that year. Now he no longer wrote stories but instead dealt with the empress and the real emperor, far more difficult than fictional accounts.
The next morning, Han Min clutched his blanket, lying on the couch, watching Fu Xun quietly get out of bed.
He wanted to rise too, but his body ached. Seeing him awake, Fu Xun touched his forehead with the back of his hand; there was no fever, just fatigue.
“I’ll go to the training grounds. I’ll write the Records of Daily Affairs for you. You sleep a bit longer.”
Han Min weakly punched the bed.
Why? Why could someone get up in the morning, full of energy, and head to the training grounds?
Fu Xun held his fist, placing it under the blanket: “It was my fault last night. Don’t be angry.”
Han Min ground his teeth. Fu Xun pinched his chin: “Sleep now. Or should I stay with you a bit longer?”
Han Min glanced at him: “Early in the morning you stay with me? You think I’m easily fooled?”
His throat was still hoarse, though he had drunk soothing tea last night.
Fu Xun chuckled and tucked the blanket over him: “Then sleep.”
The bed curtains were lowered again. Han Min closed his eyes, slowly shifting into Fu Xun’s usual spot.
Now he no longer needed to hug his sword to sleep—Fu Xun was enough. If Fu Xun wasn’t around, the Funing Hall naturally had many of Fu Xun’s belongings.
Once, when Han Min suddenly fell ill and Fu Xun was away, he avoided people, pulled all Fu Xun’s clothes from the wardrobe, and built a tall nest on the bed to sleep in.
Fu Xun, originally at the military camp, hurried back when he heard Han Min was sick. Lifting the curtain, he saw exactly that scene.
Han Min, feverish, was dazed, unaware of what he had done. Fu Xun’s return immediately brought him some clarity; his illness was partly relieved.
While sick, he always used the curtains as a shield.
Once recovered, he felt embarrassed, unwilling to let palace staff arrange things for him, fearing unnecessary rumors. That night, it was only Han Min and Fu Xun folding clothes—nothing else.
—
After a little more sleep, Han Min vaguely heard clear bird calls outside.
He opened his eyes, took a moment to focus, lifted the curtain, and glanced outside.
The sky was bright. He sprang from bed, putting on shoes and clothing, and asked, “Has His Majesty returned from the training grounds?”
The little attendant said, “Not yet. You can sleep a bit longer.”
He followed Han Min back into the palace. Han Min had asked his opinion before; unlike before, he no longer found the palace life tiresome. Since he wanted to follow, Han Min let him.
Han Min saw the eunuch who often accompanied Fu Xun standing outside and Fu Xun’s usual long sword hanging on the wall. Understanding, he yawned: “Then I won’t sleep—let’s check the training grounds later.”
He smiled at the little attendant, who said, “His Majesty instructed that if you ask, just say he hasn’t returned, so you can sleep a little more.”
“I won’t sleep; I can’t sleep.”
Han Min washed up, applied some ointment, and went to the study to review reports with Fu Xun.
—
In the afternoon, he brought the white cat to the orchid hall to help the system find the book it wanted.
He asked the officials and learned that the book hadn’t been misfiled—it had been taken home by one of them. That was why he hadn’t found it the night before.
The official would return it to him after finishing reading it.
In the hot afternoon, Han Min walked a while, feeling tightness in his chest. He sat on a rock by the small pond, holding the white cat, watching the koi fish.
Over the years, the white cat had grown. Han Min held its paw, pointing at the red koi: “System, look! Do you want to eat it?”
The system replied reluctantly: “No.”
“You’re so boring. Come out a bit.”
The system left the cat’s body, but Han Min still held its paw, pointing at the fish: “Look, do you want it?”
Only chaotic “meows” responded. Han Min said, “I know; it means ‘I want to eat it.’” He told the system, “See, its original body is far cuter than you.”
The system did not reply, returning to the cat, collapsing against him.
The koi swam lazily in the pond, willow shadows rippling on the water, slicing sunlight into tiny fragments.
They sat quietly in the shade for a while. Han Min was about to say, “Let’s go back,” when the system suddenly spoke: “Han Min, I’m leaving.”
“Ah?” Han Min didn’t react immediately. “Leaving? Going where?”
“To the control center.”
“Oh, maintenance? It’s that time again?”
Han Min counted the years on his fingers. The system said, “Not for maintenance. I won’t return. I came here to collect the documents stored in the Song imperial palace. Now that all the documents are entered, the mission is complete. I’m going back.”
After a moment, Han Min whispered, “But there’s still one left.”
Author’s note:
The chubby one destroyed the last copy overnight.
