Chapter 26: The Inside Story of the Han Family’s Confiscation
This question was a bit tricky.
The system thought for a moment. “Then I’ll ask the Control Center for you.”
“By the time the Control Center responds…”
Han Min didn’t finish his sentence.
The Control Center’s efficiency was indeed slow. The system felt a bit embarrassed. “Actually, I think the Empress will be magnanimous—after all, she is the mother of the nation.”
“You’re right.”
At this moment, Han Min walked to the palace door and knocked.
The study was simply furnished: a few desks, a large one piled with memorials, and shelves on the wall with books about ruling a country.
Fu Xun knelt in front of the desk, while Wen Yan sat at the lower end.
In the center lay a fallen bronze incense burner, ashes scattered on the ground.
Han Min rubbed his nose and bowed.
“Your Majesty, Minister Wen.”
A few days ago, Wen Yan had been formally appointed as an Imperial Censor. Since the late emperor’s funeral had not yet taken place, it was inconvenient to promote officials broadly—he was the only one appointed.
Wen Yan straightened up and returned Han Min’s bow.
Han Min didn’t know if Wen Yan had brought the notebook from Baishi Bookstore to Fu Xun, or whether Fu Xun already knew about it. Unsure of the situation, Han Min stood still without making a move.
Fu Xun waved him over. “Why are you staring at that pile of incense ashes? It was just an accident. Come over here.”
Snapping out of his thoughts, Han Min walked to the small desk next to Fu Xun and sat properly.
Fu Xun casually asked, “You rarely leave the palace. Where did you go?”
“Tongzhou is remote. I rarely return to Yong’an and was dazzled by the bustling scenery along the way, so I wandered around a few streets. By dusk, I returned. Oh, by the way—”
Han Min pulled an oil-paper-wrapped package from his sleeve. “I passed by my old residence and saw malt sugar being sold, so I bought some.”
He opened the package and pushed it toward Fu Xun. “I remember Your Majesty liked the malt sugar in front of my house.”
Fu Xun pinched some and tasted it.
In a good mood, he spoke more gently, “Wen Yan said he saw you in front of Baishi Bookstore. Did you go there?”
Han Min glanced at Wen Yan.
He had thrown off his bamboo hat, and having just returned, he hadn’t changed clothes—he only had a few sets of garments, making him easy to recognize.
Denying it would likely expose him.
So he nodded. “Yes, I passed by the Baishi Bookstore and couldn’t resist seeing if there were any new books to bring to Grandfather.”
“I see. Wen Yan thought you were preparing for the imperial examinations.”
“Ah?”
“He thought you were entering officialdom via the exams, so he brought two books for you. I remember previously telling you to become an Eunuch of the Imperial Household; I thought you had forgotten, so I asked.”
Han Min smiled. “I fear Your Majesty has forgotten. How could I forget?”
It turned out Wen Yan was trying to chastise him again.
Wen Yan always thought Han Min charmed the emperor and had gained favor through flattery. This time, he was nudging him toward taking the imperial exams—probably to remind Fu Xun that, according to protocol, he shouldn’t be given office directly.
Han Min remembered the last time Fu Xun had gotten angry with him. As a bystander, he had known how formidable he was. Fu Xun was no longer like he was as a child, nor as easygoing as he seemed.
This time, it seemed Wen Yan had provoked him into breaking the incense burner.
Han Min didn’t know what Wen Yan was thinking.
Even knowing what not to provoke about Fu Xun, he still stuck his neck out.
Perhaps he was too straightforward—if he thought something was wrong, he would advise against it no matter what.
In this regard, he was a model Imperial Censor.
Although Wen Yan always targeted Han Min, Han Min actually admired him somewhat.
Wen Yan lowered his eyes and said lightly, “I was mistaken.”
Han Min thought for a moment and helped him save face. “It doesn’t matter. I also wanted to see the past two years’ examination essays. Thank you.”
Giving Wen Yan a way out, he placed the two books in front of Han Min and took his leave.
Fu Xun slowly ate the malt sugar.
Han Min glanced at him. “If Your Majesty doesn’t like it, forget it.”
Fu Xun looked up. “I do.” He pushed the sugar toward him. “Eat if you like.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Han Min broke off a big piece without ceremony.
Fu Xun then asked, “Do you remember what I looked like as a child?”
Han Min had previously mentioned that Fu Xun had been chubby as a child.
“I won’t eat too much, afraid I’ll become like before.”
Han Min froze mid-motion with a piece of sugar near his mouth.
He suspected Fu Xun was subtly teasing him.
—
That night, after dinner, Han Min had a camel-hair blanket over his legs and was writing letters to his family.
Eunuch Yang sat nearby, smiling as he shelled almonds for him.
When he first saw Han Min, he thought he was far too thin, so he frequently urged him to eat, providing soups, nuts, and snacks constantly.
Later, the young steward brought in tea.
“Tonight, the young master seems to have eaten a little. Is something wrong with your body? I brewed some cooked Pu’er tea—it should make you feel better.”
Eunuch Yang nodded in approval at his apprentice. Quite responsible.
The young steward initially thought Fu Xun had assigned him to watch Han Min, but later realized that wasn’t entirely the case.
A few days ago, Han Min had helped him and promised that after the fall of the Duke of Gong, he could find his sister. This settled his mind.
He sat on the footstool by the couch and tucked the blanket around Han Min.
Han Min put down his pen. “I’m not gravely ill.”
The young steward said seriously, “The young master’s body was weak before, with poor nutrition and sleep. You need proper care.”
Han Min thought about it. “You’re right.”
The young steward tugged the blanket up. “That’s better.”
“But I cannot just be pampered like this.”
Han Min touched his stomach through the blanket.
Fu Xun’s earlier words reminded him: he had gained weight.
Eating well in the palace, taking tonics daily, and no longer suffering from two years of insomnia, he had fewer worries and was in a good mood—how could he not gain weight?
“Tomorrow, we’ll wake early and exercise at the martial grounds. I used to have to stay up late; now I want to start fresh.”
He stretched and looked at Eunuch Yang. “Will you be writing letters to Grandfather?”
Eunuch Yang waved. “Decades-long friends—what’s the point? Even if he yawns in Tongzhou, I’ll know.”
Han Min smiled and handed the letters to the young steward. “Send them to Tongzhou tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
—
The next morning, Han Min took the two of them for a walk to the martial grounds.
Han Min rolled up his sleeves. “System, give me the breakdown diagrams for radio calisthenics [1].”
The system flatly refused. “I don’t have such a thing.”
“There must be one—look for it.”
“I will never watch you do this nonsense! You’re a scholar; you should drink and practice swordsmanship. I’m a scholarly system; I should urge you to drink and practice swordsmanship.”
“But I only know ‘Seven-Colored Sunshine’ and ‘Dancing Youth.’ Please, I beg you.”
The system tossed him a Tai Chi manual and ignored him. [2]
Han Min flipped through a few pages and remembered learning Tai Chi in college.
It was interesting, though exams were difficult.
Since the system ignored him, Han Min had no other choice.
When Fu Xun arrived, he saw the young man in plain clothes, wind fluttering. His features were sharp, his bearing imposing.
Wei Huan approached with a long sword, ready to hand it over, but Fu Xun waved him off. “Not practicing today.”
“Yes.” Wei Huan put the sword away and looked at Han Min. “What style are you practicing? It looks good.”
Fu Xun’s face darkened. “What are you looking at?”
Wei Huan was puzzled: why couldn’t he look?
Fu Xun waved him off again. “Put the sword back.”
After sending Wei Huan away, Fu Xun approached Han Min once he had finished his stance.
Han Min bowed. “Your Majesty.”
Fu Xun nodded. “Why are you here suddenly?”
“My health is weak; I get winded running. Now that I’m free, I thought I’d come practice.”
Indeed, it was true. Han Min had been premature and delicate as a child. After the Han family was confiscated, he endured imprisonment and dark rooms.
Seeing his long, pale, fragile neck, Fu Xun instinctively raised a hand to touch it.
Han Min turned, frowning. “What are you doing?”
Fu Xun patted his head and walked away.
Han Min covered his head, secretly cursing.
He followed Fu Xun. “Where are we going?”
“The martial grounds have been repaired a few times. Not like when you were little, I’ll take you for a walk.”
Han Min’s anger came quickly and dissipated just as fast.
Seeing the armory’s long swords and silver spears, he forgot about Fu Xun patting his head.
Han Min knew Fu Xun had two hobbies: falconry and martial arts.
He pursued both to the extreme.
Seeing Han Min wander clumsily among the weapons, Fu Xun couldn’t help but smile.
Han Min noticed something and stopped at a sandalwood bow.
It was small, likely for a young martial student, wrapped with silver wire.
Fu Xun explained, “It’s the one you used in the academy.”
Han Min remembered.
At that time, the young Fu Xun, thin and tall, had been admired by all academy students. He once broke a sandalwood bow due to his strength.
Han Min clenched his fists, furious but didn’t rush to fight. He turned and walked away.
Fu Xun didn’t say a word but later asked, “Who told you to try it?”
Wen Yan calmly said, “Take it for repairs.”
In the armory, Fu Xun subtly circled Han Min while helping him draw the full moon bow.
He leaned close, breath near Han Min’s ear. “Isn’t this enough?”
Han Min was stunned, not responding.
Fu Xun let go, returning the bow.
Han Min sniffled, internally screaming for help.
The system tried to analyze: “Maybe… the relationship between ruler and subject? Yes, ruler-subject relationship.”
But it felt something was off.
Fu Xun noticed Han Min’s furrowed brows and patted his head.
“Let’s go back.”
“Eh.”
Han Min followed carefully.
Outside, they met Wei Huan. Fu Xun had instructed him to return the sword, then they disappeared.
Han Min noticed the palace windows were rarely open and it was dim.
Then he realized the emperor’s ears were red.
Strange—it wasn’t winter, Fu Xun wasn’t a prince anymore, and he was already emperor, yet he was the same as in Liuzhou.
Wei Huan closed the palace door.
—
Han Min practiced Tai Chi at the martial grounds for several days. Fu Xun, accustomed to morning practice, often encountered him.
As Han Min came more often, formalities were waived—just a nod or a greeting.
After leaving the martial grounds, Han Min returned with Eunuch Yang and the young steward.
Han Min rolled up his sleeves and made a fist. “See, Eunuch Yang, the progress I’ve made these days.”
Eunuch Yang pinched his thin arm. “All bones; you should eat more.”
Han Min withdrew his hand, looking away.
In front of Funing Palace, he saw Wen Yan waiting on the steps.
Wen Yan wore a red scholar’s robe, standing straight with the wings of his official hat unmoved.
Han Min bowed. “Minister Wen, are you here to see the emperor?”
“Yes.”
Wen Yan was always cold and sparing with words. Han Min knew this.
“The emperor won’t be back so soon. Do you want to wait inside?”
“No.”
“Alright.”
Han Min turned to leave, then remembered something. “By the way, the memorial for the Duke of Gong—we hadn’t finished editing it…”
Wen Yan looked straight ahead. “I dare not trouble you, Master Han. It’s nearly done.”
“That works.”
Han Min guessed Wen Yan was upset about Fu Xun breaking the incense burner and wanted to distance himself.
He didn’t pursue it and turned up the steps, holding Eunuch Yang’s arm. “I want date paste cake.”
Eunuch Yang laughed. “Alright, date paste cake it is.”
Wen Yan looked at Han Min’s retreating figure, then turned away. Cold expression.
Back in the side hall, Eunuch Yang said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with Minister Wen. He seems to dislike you.”
Han Min whispered, “Sometimes I’m a little afraid of him too.”
“Huh?”
“I feel he’s like my grandfather. When serious, he’s very strict. My grandfather once made General Wei cry in court. Though my grandfather never scolded me, I fear Wen Yan will make me cry.”
“That’s true.”
“But he didn’t ask me to edit the memorial, so I’m free to write two chapters…”
Two chapters for a storybook—Han Min almost let it slip.
Eunuch Yang didn’t mind and turned to prepare food.
—
A while later, Eunuch Yang looked outside. “Physician Liang is here.”
Han Min looked too.
Physician Liang often came to check his pulse.
He walked along the palace path with his medicine box.
Han Min went to the corridor. “Why is Minister Wen still waiting?”
He stood there motionless.
Han Min considered calling him up but thought better of it—Wen Yan didn’t particularly like him.
He approached Physician Liang, taking the medicine box.
Physician Liang smiled. “Why so attentive today?”
Han Min glanced at Wen Yan. He’d rather stand in the sun.
Han Min handed Physician Liang letters. “A few days ago I wrote to my elder brother about his legs. He replied yesterday. I’d like you to see.”
“Alright.”
Inside, Physician Liang examined Han Min’s pulse, frowning.
Eunuch Yang asked, “What’s wrong?”
Physician Liang released his hand. “Min’er, you know yourself. Worry and depression cannot be cured by medicine alone.”
Han Min nodded. “I know… but I just can’t sleep.”
Physician Liang sighed. “I’ll prescribe calming medicine. But your mental knots must be resolved by yourself.”
“I understand.”
Han Min handed two pages of letters—Han Shi’s letters—to Physician Liang.
Physician Liang sighed, recalling the once gallant youth on horseback.
The Han family, traditionally literary, rose to prominence after Grandfather Han presented books to the emperor.
Yet a few in the family loved martial arts—Han Min’s uncle and elder brother.
Grandfather Han had a late son. Han Min’s uncle was ten years older than Han Shi. Before Han Min was born, the two spent most time together. Both loved martial arts.
Later, Han Shi met Fu Lin, brother of Fu Xun, at a polo match. Fu Lin fell under a horse; Han Shi saved him. They became close friends.
Three years ago, during a hunt at Jingshan, a white tiger attacked. Fu Lin was killed after being rescued late, Han Shi survived but his legs were crippled and he used a wheelchair thereafter.
The late emperor died after severe illness. The previous emperor ascended and favored other princes, resenting the Han family because of Fu Lin’s early death.
The Han family was confiscated, imprisoned, and accused of secretly compiling national history.
This was the inside story of the Han family’s confiscation.
Physician Liang read the letters, pondering. “Proper care could have saved him, why didn’t it?”
Han Min explained the events after the family’s confiscation.
Eunuch Yang added, “the Duke of Gong advised the emperor to summon your brother to atone before the late Crown Prince’s tablet, kneeling in prayer.”
Han Min was shocked: “My brother never told me.”
“Perhaps to avoid worrying you.”
“What happened later?”
“Water entered the hall; the Duke of Gong prevented people from rescuing. Your brother, unable to move quickly, hid under the offering table. Rain came and extinguished the fire. The late emperor spared him, and he was unharmed.”
Han Min quietly made a note of it.
He thought: “Better not tell my brother, I should know this.”
“Yes.”
The two elders knew him well and warned, “Don’t act impulsively to confront the Duke of Gong.”
Han Min nodded.
He thought of Fu Xun’s words: by a month before the national mourning, the Duke of Gong could be dealt with.
The only regret: Wen Yan no longer asked him to help edit memorials.
Han Min sighed, twirling a brush, leaving a mark on his finger.
Author’s note:
Fu Xun helped Han Min draw the full moon bow—the Duke of Gong stood opposite.
Old Fu: collaborative couple.
System: ruler and subject.
Han Min: the Duke of Gong, you’re done! (Fierce)
Footnotes:
[1] Radio calisthenics, are a form of group exercise routine performed to music and instructions broadcast over the radio or other media.
[2] Taiji (Tai Chi) practice involves slow, gentle, and deliberate movements, controlled breathing, and a meditative state of mind.
