Chapter 38: Impure Thoughts
The candlelight was bright. Liu Ting stood up and took the bundle from his hands.
Han Min thought he didn’t want to give him the clothes after all and reached out to take it back. “Senior Brother…”
Liu Ting brushed his hand aside, opened the bundle, and shook out the clothes inside.
“Stand up straight.”
He held the collar, comparing the shoulder width and sleeve length against him, then bent down to look at the hem.
Han Min hurriedly said, “It fits perfectly.”
Liu Ting looked at him somewhat helplessly. “Clearly it’s a little long. Senior Brother will adjust it for you.”
“Thank you, Senior Brother.”
He draped the clothes over his arm, walked to the couch, and took out an embroidery basket containing needles, thread, and scissors.
Han Min placed the candleholder beside him.
“When did you learn to do this?” he asked.
Liu Ting spread the clothes on the couch and measured them with a cloth tape.
“There are often poor students in the academy who don’t eat or dress well. They refuse to wear tailor-made clothes, so I specially use some cheap old fabrics to make clothes for them. They’re not fine clothes, but if they’re willing to wear them, that’s enough.”
He handed the embroidery basket to Han Min. “Thread the needle.”
“Okay.”
Han Min sat on the footstool beside the couch and threaded the needle by candlelight.
Liu Ting had finished measuring the sizes and glanced at him threading the needle.
Several attempts failed.
He sighed and took the needle and thread from Han Min. “I’ll do it.”
Being used to sewing, he quickly began hemming the clothing.
Liu Ting sat cross-legged on the couch, leaned closer to the candle, and carefully stitched the garment.
He asked Han Min, “Do you stay up reading at night and strain your eyes?”
Han Min hurriedly denied it. “No, it’s just that I don’t know how to do this.”
Liu Ting shook his head with a smile and said no more.
Soon, he had the clothes adjusted perfectly.
“Try it on.”
Han Min held the clothes and went behind the folding screen.
Liu Ting was about to put away the embroidery basket but noticed a scrap of fabric. He picked it up and stitched a couple of stitches.
After changing, Han Min peeked from behind the screen. “Senior Brother?”
Liu Ting looked up. “Come here.”
Liu Ting’s temperament was gentle and refined, and the clothes he made were plain and soft.
The snow-blue fabric used for Han Min’s clothes was generous in cut, with wide robes and large sleeves.
If the wind blew, it would be very elegant.
Han Min stood in front of him, raising his hands. “Beautiful.”
“Yes.”
Liu Ting flipped the scrap of fabric in his hand and turned it into a matching headband. “You won’t need this in three months, so tie it.”
“Uhm.”
Han Min removed the headband from his hair, took the one from his Senior Brother, and raised his hands to arrange his hair.
Liu Ting stood, tugged at his lapel, and suddenly remembered something. “Since you haven’t worn this before, do you know something?”
“What?”
Liu Ting opened his waistband. Han Min instinctively stepped back. “Senior Brother?”
He pulled Han Min’s lapel and took out three silver notes from the inner pocket.
“See, you really didn’t know.”
“This…”
“You usually seem smart, but you didn’t guess this?”
Han Min tied his hair and smiled foolishly.
He was more thoughtful with serious matters but never paid attention to those around him.
Liu Ting slapped the three silver notes into his hands. “Take it. It’s not too late.”
“I’d rather not. I’m not short of money now. I’ll take the clothes, but the silver notes…”
Before he could finish, there was a knock at the door.
Jiang Huan stood outside. “Han Min, I just went to the Duke of Gong’s residence. The Emperor said if you want to see the documents, go ask him yourself. The Emperor wouldn’t let me give them to you directly.”
Han Min responded, “Understood. Thank you, Senior Brother Jiang.”
“You’re welcome.” Jiang Huan paused, then turned to leave.
Han Min pouted a little, feeling down.
Liu Ting patted his head. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to talk to Fu Xun.”
“Hmm?”
He still habitually called Fu Xun by name as before.
Han Min corrected himself. “I mean the Emperor.”
“What’s wrong with him? Bullying you again?”
“He’s really annoying.”
Han Min irritably scratched his hair, not wanting to talk more, and said, “It’s late. Senior Brother, I’ll head back.”
“All right.”
This was Han Min’s first night back in Yong’an City without sleeping at Funning Palace.
Eunuch Yang and Elder Scholar Liu had reunited and told the young servant to take care of Han Min, then went to talk with their old friends.
The young servant was supposed to guard outside, but Han Min sent him back to sleep.
Han Min wrote two pages of his manuscript and then went to bed, unsure if he could fall asleep.
He lay on his side, under the covers, curled up.
The Liu family still treated him as when he was a child.
When he studied with Elder Liu, if he couldn’t recite the text, he was brought back by the Elder and had to memorize it before leaving.
Sometimes, if it was late, a servant would go to Han’s house to notify his family, and he would stay at Liu’s house.
He stayed in the same room; the furniture hadn’t changed.
Han Min rested his head on his arm, lifted the plain curtain, and glanced at the long sword hanging from the silver hook, feeling a little reassured.
But it was still not easy to sleep. He thought for a moment and activated the system: “System, talk to me.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“I saw the teacher today and suddenly really want to bring Grandpa back now.”
“Is that so?”
Han Min turned over, hugging the embroidered quilt. “Grandpa should have a life like this—raising birds, talking to old friends. Back in Tongzhou, I was most afraid he might suddenly leave.”
“Then hurry and bring them over.”
“Mm. Next time I submit the manuscript, I’ll ask Mr. Ge if the old house has been bought. Don’t know which parts of the yard need repairs.”
Han Min, eyes open, thought a bit more. “System, shall we raise a cat?”
“Why a cat?”
“To possess you.” Han Min grinned. “Stretch my magical claws at the system-cat.”
The system, playing along, shouted in mock horror: “Ah! You bad person, stay away from me!”
Both thought it was a bit silly and consciously stopped.
After a while, Han Min laughed lightly. “Seriously, if we raise a cat, I’ll give it fish soup every day. Back in Tongzhou we didn’t have the means. Once the house is ready, we can raise a cat.”
The system imagined: “I want a long-haired white one, preferably with heterochromatic eyes.”
“Quite demanding. Then just imagine it.”
“I’ve been with you so many years, and this is the only small request you won’t fulfill.”
“All right, I’ll try my best.” Han Min asked again, “Do you want to be other small animals? That yellow dog in Liuzhou—how did it feel?”
“Not great. Don’t mention that again—it’s embarrassing.”
“Oh, then a little yellow duck?”
The system suddenly changed to a bright, impatient male voice: “You be the duck!”
Han Min opened his eyes. “Huh? You’re not electronic sound now?”
The system cleared its throat. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“You…”
The system explained: “The control center installed a voice plugin for me, not fully tuned. It just popped out.”
“Scared me. I thought you’d become sentient.”
The system was speechless.
Han Min asked again: “I asked long ago—what’s your mission here? You never clearly told me. Can you now?”
“I’m just a literature system.”
“You said the same last time.”
The system thought a moment: “I’ll ask for you—whether Fu Xun’s Empress is male or female?”
Han Min didn’t answer, turned over, and wrapped himself in the quilt.
The system said: “Can you sleep like that? You’re making such a fuss, wrapped like dough. Don’t cry to me later if you can’t sleep.”
Han Min sat up, took down the sword, and hugged it.
“Eh?”
“Anyway, Fu Xun isn’t here. He won’t know.”
The system asked in a drawn-out tone: “Oh, holding this sword—does it feel like holding Fu Xun?”
Han Min immediately denied: “I’m not holding Fu Xun.”
“You’re not holding him, but why block me every time you go to the dragon bed?”
“I’m on the same bed as Fu Xun. Do you think it’s appropriate for you to be beside us?”
Without emotion plugins, the system said naturally: “Very appropriate. What’s wrong with a ruler and minister sharing a bed?”
Han Min said firmly: “It’s not.”
“What inappropriate things are you doing on the bed?”
“Speak properly.”
“Fine. What inappropriate things are you doing on the bed?”
“Do that again, I’ll block you.”
The system asked, “You’re not mad about Fu Xun braiding your hair?”
Han Min didn’t answer. He faced the wall, pulled the quilt, and prepared to sleep.
Blocked, the system stayed alone in its space, organizing countless books and resources it had collected.
Hugging the sword, Han Min slept well and didn’t have nightmares, waking only when dawn broke.
Judging the time, he got up, dressed, washed up, and unblocked the system.
Outside, Senior Brother Jiang was practicing martial arts, and Senior Brother Liu was reading by the window.
Hearing the door, Liu Ting asked, “Up already?”
Then he looked up, saw Han Min wearing the clothes he made, and smiled. “Looks good.”
Han Min tied his hair in the corridor. “Senior Brother’s clothes look good.”
Jiang Huan said, “Remember, today we go see Wen Bianzhang?”
“Of course.”
After breakfast, it wasn’t long before Chu Yu arrived.
He wore luxurious silk with gold and jade embroidery, glittering in the sun.
Naturally, his “peaceful, prosperous” look matched the outfit.
He held Han Min’s hand, and Han Min looked him over.
Chu Yu asked, “What’s wrong?”
Han Min feigned seriousness. “You… are more beautiful than your carriage.”
Chu Yu pinched his mouth. “Sharp-tongued, don’t distinguish friend from foe. Better stop talking.”
He explained, “Today we see Master Wen. I heard he’s proper, so I dressed formally not to offend.”
Han Min feigned realization. “Ah, I see. You thought it through well.”
Chu Yu led him out. “He’s still recuperating, so I brought a cart of medicine, collected before New Year.”
Han Min tried to advise: “No need. Wen Bianzhang may not like it.”
Chu Yu waved his hand: “Whether he likes it or not, I prepared it.”
Chu Yu’s carriage was unmatched in grandeur, drawing stares early in the street.
Jiang Huan casually lifted the curtain, and a branch of apricot blossoms flew in, landing in his arms.
Jiang Huan frowned, put down the curtain.
Han Min and Chu Yu were trying not to laugh, Liu Ting’s face showed a faint smile. He was slightly embarrassed, and tossed the blossom to Chu Yu.
“It aimed for your carriage.”
Chu Yu pinned the blossom on Han Min. “No, it aimed at Master Jiang’s talent and looks.”
Han Min put Liu Ting’s arm around his shoulder and brought him to the carriage window. “Senior Brother, try it.”
No flowers, but a few academy students—school on holiday, out shopping—paused and bowed to Liu Ting.
“Little Liu, good morning.”
Liu Ting smiled. “Morning.”
Soon they reached the alley where the Marquis Wenyuan residence stood.
The narrow alley couldn’t fit Chu’s carriage.
The four laughed, got out, and walked.
Various shops lined the alley. Chu Yu, unfamiliar, kept chatting with Han Min.
Han Min sighed. “Senior Brother, do you know what it was like when I took Pei-ge out in Tongzhou?”
He pointed at Chu Yu. “It was like this.”
Chu Yu asked, “Who’s Pei-ge?”
“My younger cousin Han Pei.”
“Oh, not bad…”
“He’s six this year.”
“Han Min!”
“Eh.”
Han Min smiled and patted his hand, but instead of comforting, he said: “Rich people are so annoying.”
He patted Chu Yu’s hand again, then ran ahead.
—
They stopped at the Wen residence and whispered to Chu Yu: “I’ll go in first, see if he’s awake.”
Han Min straightened his clothes, cleared his throat, and knocked.
A voice from inside: “Door’s unlocked.” He pushed it open.
Wen Yan was sitting by the well, casually dressed, loose coat tied sloppily.
Seeing Han Min, he put down his book. “I knew it was you. No one else would visit me.”
“No, surely others visit too.”
Han Min sat beside him. “Wen Bianzhang, I have a question.”
“Ask.”
Han Min looked at him confidently. “Are we close?”
Wen Yan lowered his gaze, took up the cane, and brought over a wooden wheelchair.
Seeing his silence, Han Min became anxious: “Why aren’t you speaking? Are we not close? Do you dislike me? What did I do now?”
Wen Yan sat down with the cane, Han Min helped him a bit.
Han Min held the wheelchair: “No, you must clarify. Are we not close? I’ve fed you pig’s trotters every day, fattened you up. Now you say we’re not close—are you playing with my friendship?”
Wen Yan softly said: “I’m not.”
“Then we are close?”
He was embarrassed to say it aloud but didn’t want to provoke Han Min. He murmured: “Mm.”
“I saw Xie Dingyuan’s calligraphy at your place. Can I borrow it?”
“Sure, I’ll get it.”
“No rush. Yesterday I lost at chess to my Senior Brother. They…”
Wen Yan’s face changed. “So they sent you to ask me for it?”
“Ah? No…”
Wen Yan ignored him, pushing the wheelchair. “I’ll get it. You take it and leave.”
The three outside entered.
Liu Ting said: “He’s careful and straightforward; probably thought we were stakes in a chess game.”
Meanwhile, Han Min apologized to Wen Yan as he followed him into the room.
Wen Yan didn’t change expression, retrieved the calligraphy: “Here.”
Han Min shook his sleeves: “Wen Bianzhang, I’m innocent.”
He insisted: “Here.”
Han Min didn’t take it, crouched to match his height, shaking his sleeve.
“It’s not what you think. I didn’t underestimate you. They claimed you disapproved of me. I said we’re close. They didn’t believe me, so I asked to borrow your calligraphy.”
Wen Yan glanced at him. “Really?”
Han Min nodded heavily. “Really. Wen Bianzhang. And they’re still outside.”
“They’re outside?”
“Yes. Now everyone knows we’re not close.”
Wen Yan had recovered, still cold-faced. “You deserve it.”
“Then you’re not mad?”
He pushed the wheelchair. “I’ll go explain.”
Han Min helped him. “Thanks, Master Wen.”
In the narrow stone corridor, Han Min said: “Both my Senior Brothers are here, plus Lord Chu, who wanted to meet you, so I brought him.”
“Good.” Wen Yan pondered. “How did you come with them?”
“I don’t live in the palace anymore. I moved to Liu’s house.”
Wen Yan was surprised but quickly adjusted. “The Emperor let you go?”
At that moment, someone opened the Marquis Wenyuan residence door.
He saw three in the courtyard, not the person he wanted.
The three bowed. “Where’s Han Min?”
Chu Yu said: “Seems Lord Han angered Lord Wen. He left in his wheelchair. Lord Han chased to apologize.”
At that moment, Wen Yan in the corridor asked Han Min: “The Emperor let you go?”
Han Min snorted: “Of course. Why wouldn’t he? He dislikes me the most anyway.”
He pushed the wheelchair to the hall, then saw another person in the courtyard.
Fu Xun looked slightly helpless, raising his eyes: “I originally wouldn’t allow it.”
Han Min was startled, instinctively released the wheelchair. Wen Yan slid forward, Han Min held him again.
Caught talking, Han Min awkwardly nodded: “Your Majesty.”
Fu Xun waved him over.
Han Min hesitated, couldn’t release the wheelchair. Chu Yu ran forward. “I’ll help.”
Han Min introduced: “This is Chu Yu, Chu Tanhua Lang, Chu Zuoshi.” (TNote: The term “Tanhua” (??) refers to the candidate who achieved the third-highest rank in the prestigious imperial examinations of ancient China.)
“Wen Yan, Censor Wen, Wen Bianzhang.”
Chu Yu helped the wheelchair and greeted Wen Yan: “Pleasure.”
Wen Yan, not used to the excessive warmth, slightly twitched his mouth: “Pleasure.”
“Get along well.”
Han Min instructed, then went to Fu Xun.
“Your Majesty?”
“Mm.” Fu Xun glanced at the remaining four. “I have business with Han Min. You’re free.”
He grabbed Han Min’s shoulder to take him away.
Liu Ting gasped, fearing Han Min would be struck.
Han Min stood still. Fu Xun released him, straightened his crumpled clothes, and said softly: “Let’s go.”
Finally, Han Min nodded. Fu Xun gently held his sleeve and led him out.
After they left, Wen Yan said lightly: “It’s fine, come in and sit.”
Drinking tea and admiring calligraphy, Liu Ting looked at Wen Yan. “When did you reconcile with him?” (Meaning Han Min.)
“A long time ago. Nothing really happened.”
“Is that so?”
Liu Ting pushed his wheelchair aside. “Why before?”
“Nothing.”
Wen Yan paused. “If you cared, you’d keep Han Min away from the Emperor.”
“Why?”
“The Emperor… doesn’t have pure thoughts toward him.”
For upright Wen Yan, speaking ill of the Emperor was only proper privately, not in the palace, especially regarding the Emperor’s personal matters. He spoke lightly.
The only one who heard, Liu Ting, didn’t fully believe: “They grew up like this. Seeing the Emperor provoke him seems like some bullying intent.”
Wen Yan said: “I didn’t mean that…”
“But he should stay away from the Emperor to avoid trouble.”
Wen Yan didn’t continue; no one would believe him. At first, he didn’t even believe it himself.
—
Han Min and Fu Xun were walking on the road.
Yesterday, Fu Xun went to Duke Gong’s Mansion and took the opportunity to call Jiang Huan over.
He knew Jiang Huan lived at the Liu family’s house, and after asking a couple of questions, he learned that Han Min was coming to the Wen family’s house today.
So Fu Xun came over today, and deliberately didn’t let Wei Gui come along. Wei Gui always likes to stick with Han Min, so we have to nip it in the bud.
Han Min crossed his arms and turned to look at him: “Your Majesty…”
He looked around; there were many pedestrians on the road, so calling out “Your Majesty” might not be convenient.
Fu Xun said, “Just call me that like before.”
“Well then, Fu Xun.”
Fu Xun looked heartbroken: “You used to call me ‘Third Brother’.”
Han Min was completely bewildered: “When did I ever call you ‘Third Brother’?”
“Hurry up and say it.”
“I won’t.”
A meaningless repetition of the same conversation a hundred times.
Finally, Han Min said, “If you keep doing this, I’ll call you ‘Fu Gou (Gou = Dog)’.”
Fu Xun said, “Fine, shout whatever you want.”
The name “Fu Gou” came from when he was a child studying at the academy. One morning, Fu Xun was doing his homework at his seat, and in his haste, he missed a stroke when writing his name.
Han Min quietly took his pen over, blackened out the radical for “speech” and added a grass radical.
For a long time afterward, Han Min called him that.
Once, Uncle Wang lost money in business and left a pile of blank fans for them. His friends asked the young scholar Han Min to inscribe some words on them, and he wrote the same two words for Fu Xun.
Later, Han Min was discovered by Grandpa Han, and he was dragged to Emperor Dezong’s presence so that Fu Xun could call out to him a couple of times to vent his anger.
In the end, Han Min was so frightened that his face scrunched up, but Fu Xun only flicked his forehead, and that was the end of it.
At this moment, Fu Xun asked him, “Are you still angry? About the hair?”
Han Min thought for a moment, then asked, “You’re not angry, are you? About ‘Fu Gou’?”
Fu Xun paused. “No. Did you fall asleep last night?”
“Hmm, it’s alright.” Han Min emphasized, “I really didn’t sleep with the sword in my arms.”
After a while, not hearing Fu Xun speak, Han Min looked up and saw Fu Xun walking towards him with two malt candies in his hand.
It seems like nothing has changed in many years, yet it also seems like many years have passed.
Fu Xun handed him the bamboo skewer: “Here you go.”
“I won’t eat it.”
“Are you still angry?”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“‘I wounldn;t dare’ means I’m angry. You should eat quickly.”
Fu Xun waved the bright yellow maltose in front of him, and fanned the sweet aroma of the candy towards him with his hand, tempting him.
“Han Min, eat quickly, come and eat!”
Han Min pursed his lips, quietly swallowed, looked up at him, and then took a big bite of the candy.
He crunched away for a while, and Fu Xun continued to tempt him: “Han Min, is it sweet? Hurry up and have another bite, just one more bite.”
It’s not that Han Min lacked self-control; it’s simply because the candy was too delicious.
Fu Xun coaxed him to eat bite after bite, and gave him both skewers. He just watched him eat, and saw the syrup on the corner of his lips.
Fu Xun touched the soft flesh of his cheek with the tip of his tongue; he wanted to try it too.
