Chapter 28: Long Live His Majesty
Han Min looked at Chancellor Jiang: “Chancellor, may I speak?”
Chancellor Jiang clearly could not argue with him. He snorted coldly, turned his face away, and ignored him, leaving Han Min to make his own way.
Han Min smiled indifferently and opened the memorial in his hands.
Fu Quan stiffened.
The previous memorial from Liuzhou—he knew immediately it was Han Min’s work. Every sentence hit like a strike to the flesh, piercing the spine.
During that Liuzhou incident, the late emperor had the eunuch read the memorial aloud. Fu Quan’s face changed three times while listening. When he left, he even stumbled on the steps.
If Han Min’s work could not be used for his own purposes, Fu Quan would dislike him intensely, almost fear him.
Han Min’s voice rang out, each word firm and resonant:
“Today, this guilty minister requests an audience. The one being reported is the Duke of Gong, Fu Quan.”
“I report the Duke of Gong for three major crimes and nine minor offenses.”
“First, disloyalty to the state. the Duke of Gong has managed affairs for years. From high-ranking Hanlin censors to minor county clerks, all offices were openly sold. The practice of selling posts and titles spread throughout the court and countryside. Even a lowly county clerk position sold for hundreds of thousands of taels of silver. The imperial court became the Duke of Gong’s private profiteering shop. Years ago, when the earthquake struck Liuzhou, the Magistrate there—perhaps he too bought his position? At that time, the streets were filled with corpses, and yet the Duke of Gong continued to govern poorly and unjustly. Back then, the Duke of Gong’s grandeur in the capital paved the way with the bones of Liuzhou’s people; should he attempt a palace coup tonight, how many innocent souls of Great Qi must accompany him to the grave?”
Han Min glanced at Fu Quan. Seeing his darkened expression, he turned the memorial to the next page:
“Second, disrespect toward the sovereign.”
He listed each accusation—disloyalty to the state, disrespect to the sovereign, and unfilial behavior toward his father—driving Fu Quan into a corner.
Han Min did not speak excessively, but every sentence struck the core.
When he finished, Fu Quan clenched his teeth, face dark as iron, tugged at Chancellor Jiang’s sleeve, and whispered: “You go.”
Han Min snapped the memorial shut, folded his hands, and calmly watched Chancellor Jiang.
Chancellor Jiang clearly neither wanted to nor dared to argue further.
At that moment, a young official in a purple robe stepped forward from the steps.
Fu Quan exhaled in relief, only to hear the young official say loudly: “I think what this lord says is entirely correct.”
Han Min looked at him.
A young official in a purple robe, likely of high rank. Han Min had not seen him before—he must be newly appointed in the last two years.
The young man had naturally smiling eyes and subtly gave Han Min a glance.
Ah, now it was clear.
This person could not have been persuaded by Han Min. He had been placed by Fu Xun near the Duke of Gong to gather intelligence, and when necessary, to disrupt enemy morale.
Earlier, Wen Yan had not come, so he could not act directly.
Now Han Min had arrived, and he seized the opportunity to sway loyalty.
Fu Quan was furious. He turned to Chancellor Jiang: “Who is that?”
Chancellor Jiang whispered: “Last year’s newly ranked top scholar, Chu Yu.”
Han Min had already laid out most of the Duke of Gong’s crimes. If he continued, the prince could no longer contain them.
So Chu Yu’s role was to sway officials to his side.
“I really think this lord speaks the truth. I used to serve under the Duke of Gong, but always sensed something was wrong. Today, thanks to Lord Han’s guidance, I finally realize it.”
Chu Yu lifted his robe and knelt with a thud, proclaiming loudly: “I, a humble minister, have recognized my errors, and wish to redeem myself. I beg His Majesty for mercy.”
Several other prearranged officials followed suit.
“We wish to redeem our misdeeds, and beg His Majesty for leniency.”
The suddenness confused officials who truly served Fu Xun. They hesitated, unsure whether to kneel.
Even the young official behind Chancellor Jiang—who had laughed when Han Min called Chancellor Jiang the “Wei River”—also knelt.
Chancellor Jiang, angered, plucked two hairs from his beard and kicked him, whispering: “Stand up!”
The young official shook his head, repeating the words about redeeming misdeeds.
Han Min recognized him—Jiang Huan, Chancellor Jiang’s eldest son, who had studied with him at the academy. Han Min had called him Senior Brother Jiang.
Seeing even his son kneel, Chancellor Jiang was furious.
But this was no spur-of-the-moment act; Jiang Huan had long secretly sided with Fu Xun.
With the eldest son kneeling, hesitant officials followed, and soon over half the hall knelt.
Voices of “redeeming misdeeds” echoed through Fengqian Hall.
Han Min folded his hands.
He had long believed in the power of words—today, he witnessed it firsthand.
Shaping hearts, turning tides, averting disaster—this was what scholars could achieve.
Fu Xun, seated above, had said nothing the entire time, idly playing with his jade pendant, watching the scene below with cold eyes.
Sensing the tide had turned, Fu Quan gripped his sword, ready to intervene—eliminate Han Min first, then remove Fu Xun’s crown.
He stepped forward, but at that moment, the time arrived.
Outside the hall came the sound of marching troops—Fu Xun’s men had arrived.
Two generals in armor, still wet with evening dew, ascended the steps.
“Apologies for arriving late…”
Just formalities—Fu Xun had ordered them to come at this time.
Fu Xun waved: “No need for ceremony. Those standing, drag them down. Those kneeling, leave them be.”
Seeing the army arrive and realizing the tide had turned, the standing officials wanted to kneel, but were restrained.
Han Min looked around. He was still standing, rubbed his chin, considering whether to kneel, when Fu Xun beckoned: “Come here.”
“Yes.”
He lifted his robe and ascended the nine-tiered white jade steps.
Fu Xun raised his hand, adjusting Han Min’s official hat: “Why are you here? Weren’t you told to stay in Funing Hall?”
“Fifth Prince came to Funing Hall. I learned Wen Yan hadn’t come, so I took his place.”
Han Min suddenly remembered: “Oh, right. Quickly send someone to find Wen Yan.”
Fu Xun ordered Wei Huan: “Take several squads to find him. Ask Chu Yu; he will know Wen Yan’s whereabouts.”
Wei Huan left on the order.
Meanwhile, soldiers cleared the hall of rebels. Fu Quan, restrained by two soldiers, was incredulous.
All the palace gates were supposed to be his men. How could Fu Xun’s people enter unnoticed?
Were they from Liuzhou or the northwest?
How had they arrived?
He struggled violently: “Fu Xun! Dare you produce the late emperor’s abdication edict?”
He turned to the officials, not kneeling and about to be dragged down: “The edict is forged! For the late emperor’s spirit, join me to purge the court!”
The officials, seeing no way back, struggled and shouted for the abdication edict.
Fu Xun, meanwhile, adjusted Han Min’s hair.
Listening for a while, he understood their shouting.
He addressed a general in armor: “Little Uncle, please retrieve the late emperor’s abdication edict.”
This man was the only prince of a different surname: Li Shu, Emperor Dezong’s adopted son and the late emperor’s adopted brother.
Li Shu had been a northwest general’s descendant. After a battle ten years prior, all his family had died except him.
Young at the time, Emperor Dezong adopted him, keeping him close and instructing him.
He was ten years older than Fu Xun, slightly younger than Prince Yue, Fu Xun’s actual younger uncle. To distinguish, he was called Little Uncle, and Prince Yue was simply Uncle.
Even Fu Xun’s past military campaigns in the northwest had been guided by him.
Thus, the late emperor had entrusted him with the abdication edict.
Li Shu removed his helmet and reported: “The abdication edict was buried with the late emperor, inside the coffin. To view it, the coffin must be opened.”
He looked coldly at Fu Quan: “the Duke of Gong, do you truly wish to see the edict?”
This only inflamed Fu Quan further. He wrenched free, shouting: “There is no rule about placing the edict in the coffin. Someone must be hiding guilt!”
Fu Xun narrowed his eyes and said solemnly: “Then open the coffin.”
The wind whipped the white drapes inside the hall.
The coffin was heavy, surrounded by ten guards who carefully pried open the iron nails.
Could the late emperor have foreseen that the princes he manipulated like puppets would one day turn against him, leaving him as a corpse controlled by them?
With a crash, the coffin lid was opened.
Though fragrant, the corpse inside had long decayed over forty-nine days. Everyone turned their noses and eyes away.
Fu Xun covered Han Min’s eyes and let only the scent of dragon sandalwood surround him.
Li Shu’s face remained unchanged. He grabbed Fu Quan’s hand, pressing it against the coffin: “Since you insist, retrieve the edict yourself.”
Under Li Shu’s grip, Fu Quan could not move. He gingerly reached into the coffin, feeling for a cylindrical object, and pulled it out without thinking.
“It’s…”
It was a small finger bone.
Fu Quan froze. Li Shu seized his hand to prevent further action, shouting: “The late emperor was poisoned! Call the coroners!”
The bone was blackened.
The situation reversed too quickly. Fu Quan had no time to react before the imperial physician Liang and two coroners arrived with medicine boxes.
Everyone focused on the fact that the late emperor had been poisoned.
No one noticed how quickly the physicians and coroners had arrived.
Fu Quan looked at Fu Xun, who covered Han Min’s eyes and spoke softly, a faint, knowing smile on his face—everything under control.
It dawned on Fu Quan.
Fu Xun had planned this long ago, preparing countless paths, each a dead end.
He could have dealt with Fu Quan during the palace coup, when the army arrived, or when the coffin opened.
Fu Quan, stubborn, walked every dead-end path, ultimately trapped in the predesigned situation.
Physician Liang and the coroners examined the poison with silver needles and consulted quietly.
They reported: “Your Majesty, the poison is called Hidden Needle. A slow-acting poison, initially undetectable. The late emperor had been poisoned for about two years. We shall examine the medical records from two years ago for details.”
Fu Quan immediately demanded: “Summon everyone in the palace…”
Li Shu interrupted: “the Duke of Gong managed state affairs for years; the city and palace were under him. Thus, he is the prime suspect.”
Fu Quan objected: “I could never harm my father!”
Li Shu glanced at him: “Whether or not, is not for the Duke of Gong to decide.”
He turned to Fu Xun: “Request permission to search the Duke of Gong’s residence.”
Fu Xun nodded.
He paused: “No need for Little Uncle to go personally.” He looked at the young official who had accompanied Han Min: “You lead the search.”
The young official froze, then knelt to accept the order.
Fu Quan recognized him but had long since forgotten.
Previously, outside Fengqian Hall, he had called eunuchs “worthless things.”
Now, one of those “worthless things” was searching his residence.
The young official departed. The coffin was resealed and incense burned.
Officials either stood or knelt.
The hall was silent, awaiting the outcome.
Fu Xun sat and took Han Min’s hand, inviting him to sit.
Han Min refused to overstep.
Fu Xun did not insist. He noticed Han Min’s right hand.
Two years ago, Han Min’s right hand had been broken by Fu Quan.
Recently, Han Min told him he could no longer draw a bow fully.
Fu Xun signaled to Eunuch Yang, who quietly withdrew.
From evening to now was already late at night.
Soon, the young official returned, carrying a small black clay jar on a tray.
Physician Liang tested it with silver needles: “Indeed, Hidden Needle poison. Rare; few may possess it.”
Fu Xun waved dismissively. Fu Quan, speechless and unresisting, was restrained by guards.
Fu Xun glanced at the officials. None hesitated, all bowed, “Long live His Majesty! Long live Great Qi!”
Han Min knelt too, hitting his knees abruptly. He rubbed them, but Fu Xun pulled him up.
Before he could react, Fu Xun drew him into his arms, holding a longbow. Han Min’s hands were placed on the bow and string.
From the arrow quiver, he drew a feathered arrow.
The sharp arrow pointed—not at Fu Quan’s head or chest—but at his right hand.
The bow arched like a full moon. The arrow shot through Fu Quan’s right palm.
Fu Quan screamed. In his sweat-blurred vision, he saw Fu Xun’s hand press on Han Min’s previously injured right hand, gripping tighter.
Officials dared not look; they bowed low, not daring to see.
Amid shouts of “Long live His Majesty! Long live Great Qi!” Fu Xun bent slightly and said to Han Min: “I let you draw the full-moon bow once. Your revenge is done.”
Han Min stared back in shock.
Fu Xun understood, drew another arrow: “One more time.”
Fu Quan, sweating, screamed: “You cannot…”
Author’s note:
Han Min (stunned): Fu Xun is this powerful!
Old Fu: I’m even stronger elsewhere (tail wagging).
deym