Chapter 22: Extraordinarily Gentle
The man speaking had a harsh, sinister look, with slightly protruding cheekbones and narrow, slanted eyes.
It was the Duke of Gong, Fu Quan.
Fu Rang had stuffed all the bird’s nest and ginseng into Han Min’s arms, then turned to argue with him: “Fourth Prince—”
Han Min, holding the gifts, shifted his foot to block Fu Rang, putting him behind himself.
The late emperor had few heirs.
The Crown Prince Fu Lin died three years ago, the second prince died in childhood. Fu Xun was the third. Next were the Duke of Gong, Fu Quan, and Fifth Prince, Fu Rang.
There were also a few younger princes, still children.
Decades ago, when Grandfather Han was still a low-ranking copyist in the Imperial Archives, he had devoted half his life to writing the Treatise on Governance, but had nowhere to present it. Summoning courage, he stopped Emperor Dezong’s carriage in the palace.
Grandfather Han was appointed Eunuch YangHistorian, and the Han family rose to prominence.
Before and after the public eye, Emperor Dezong often said that Grandfather Han was worthy of being the chief civil official.
When Han Min was little, Grandfather Han would bring him into the palace to meet Emperor Dezong.
Near the palace walls, pomegranate flowers bloomed, and three young imperial grandsons were flying kites.
Fu Xun leaned against the wall, ordering his fifth brother, Fu Rang, to fly the kite.
Fu Rang happily ran back and forth along the palace path with the kite.
Fourth grandson, Fu Quan, didn’t like joining them. He stood at a distance, arms folded.
That was the first time Han Min saw Fu Quan.
The system explained: “That is the Fourth Grandson, born of Zhang Fengyi. After Zhang Fengyi passed away, he was raised by Consort Xian.”
Han Min had met Consort Xian—she was not an easy person. He guessed she didn’t treat Fu Quan well, which explained why the boy was so reclusive.
So Han Min approached, dug into his pouch, and handed Fu Quan a preserved plum: “Here, eat this.”
The two of them had originally gotten along well—until a certain Mid-Autumn palace banquet.
Ten-year-old Han Min had been coaxed into drinking two cups of fruit wine and slipped out to sober up.
Sitting in the corridor enjoying the breeze, he saw the drunken Fu Xun being supported by someone unfamiliar, seemingly being taken somewhere.
Han Min stopped him, intending to help Fu Xun back, when he heard a commotion inside the hall.
He slipped outside to see and discovered that Fu Quan’s wine had been poisoned, and someone mistakenly drank it.
Emperor Dezong was furious and had guards investigate.
A young eunuch near Fu Quan “accidentally” let it slip that Fu Xun and Fu Quan had quarreled a few days earlier.
Emperor Dezong, seated, roared: “Where is A-Xun? Bring him here.”
Having known Fu Xun since childhood, Han Min understood him well. If Fu Xun bore a grudge, he would have beaten someone in front of him—he wouldn’t poison. Something else must have been going on.
Thinking back, Han Min realized the scene had been suspicious.
He ran, pushed Fu Xun into the lake, then jumped in himself.
Fu Xun choked on water, sobered up, and just as he was about to get angry, he saw Han Min and awkwardly averted his gaze: “What’s wrong?”
Han Min tapped his face and said seriously: “You almost got someone hurt. Be more careful.”
The two drenched boys returned to the hall together.
Fu Xun, following Han Min’s instructions, claimed he had slipped while drunk and fallen into the lake, saved by Han Min.
His suspicion was cleared.
Later that night, while leaving the palace, Han Min walked by the lake. Fu Quan passed by him, gritting his teeth: “You’re just too kind.”
He had ruined Fu Quan’s plan.
Before Han Min could respond, Fu Xun suddenly appeared and pulled him away.
“Don’t go back tonight. Fifth Prince and Wei Gui will join us in my room to play chess.”
Fu Xun held Han Min’s hand, glancing at Fu Quan—
His hand paused mid-air, almost like he wanted to push Han Min into the lake.
Back in the room, Fu Xun “suddenly remembered”: “Fifth Prince and Wei Gui said they can’t come, so it’s just the two of us.”
They sat on the couch, playing chess.
Fu Xun suddenly asked: “Why did you save me? Don’t you dislike me?”
Han Min propped his head, twirling a chess piece, and let out a small “hmph”: “Dislike or not, I can’t let others scheme against you.”
The flickering candlelight softened Han Min’s features, making him look extraordinarily gentle.
Because of this incident, Fu Xun didn’t bother playing scheming games with Fu Quan and wanted to grow stronger quickly, so he went to the west to lead troops.
It was also after this incident that Fu Quan bore a grudge against Han Min, and gradually, the two drifted apart.
Now, in the palace corridor, Fu Quan had grown older; his words and methods were no longer as sloppy as before.
Han Min stood before Fu Rang, bowing slightly: “Your Highness, the Duke of Gong.”
Fu Quan sneered: “Master Han, you really are full of tricks.”
Han Min simply smiled. Fu Quan toyed with the white jade pendant on his waist and continued: “Even from Tongzhou, you managed to criticize me—don’t deny it; I recognize your style. Wen Yan couldn’t write something like that. Sharp-tongued, cunning, cruel.”
Han Min lowered his eyes: “I’m flattered.”
Fu Quan ground his teeth: “If I knew it would come to this, when the Han family fell two years ago, I should have kept you in the Duke of Gong’s mansion as a little eunuch.”
Han Min remained calm: “Just missed it by a little.”
“Exactly.” Fu Quan glanced at Fu Rang. “At that time, the emperor and Fifth Prince were both petitioning the late emperor to get you here. I petitioned once too, but alas, just missed it.”
Near Fengqian Hall, there was a tall pagoda tower.
Fu Xun had just returned from the late emperor’s shrine, still in mourning clothes, heavy and awkward.
Standing atop the tower, he saw the scene and instructed his guard, Wei Huan: “Bow and arrows.”
Wei Huan froze: “What does Your Majesty want?”
Fu Xun repeated: “Bow and arrows.”
Wei Huan nervously took down the longbow and arrows from the wall, nearly kneeling, pleading for the emperor not to act rashly.
Fu Xun lifted the bow, eyes sharp as a hawk, and aimed at Fu Quan in the corridor.
Fu Quan casually said: “A eunuch? Just a toy. Even if you hadn’t become a eunuch, wouldn’t you still be the emperor’s…”
Hearing Fu Quan call him a “toy,” Little Jizi, standing behind Han Min, frowned.
Just then, a Taoist came out of the hall. Little Jizi stepped forward and whispered a few words to him, then bowed: “Princes, the Taoist invites you to burn a banner before the late emperor’s spirit.”
Fu Quan snorted and walked away.
Little Jizi shook his head at Han Min; it was fine.
Fu Quan left, unaware that on the nearby tower, the arrowhead followed him inch by inch.
Fu Xun stood straight, like a pine tree, until Fu Quan disappeared from the corridor.
Finally, he handed the bow and arrows to Wei Huan.
Wei Huan quietly asked: “Your Majesty, shall we call Han Min back?”
“No need.”
Fu Xun stood on the tower, hands behind his back.
Once Fu Quan and Fu Rang left, Han Min still stood in the corridor below.
Fu Xun merely looked at him and smiled, as if those cold, sinister expressions had never appeared on Han Min’s face.
Author’s Note:
In the previous chapter, Min Min said that as a child he often hid on the tall tower beside Fengqian Hall while playing hide-and-seek with friends—that’s the same tower Fu Xun is on now.
Fu – Master of Transformative Expressions – Xun: Fu Quan is so annoying, I should just shoot him… Wife! Wife, look carefully!
