Chapter 39: The House of a Guilty Minister
Fu Xun noticed a bit of syrup still in the corner of Han Min’s mouth and couldn’t help but stare at him.
After a while, Han Min found it strange.
He reached up to touch his face: “Am I… doing something wrong?”
After a moment, his fingers found the syrup at his lips.
“Excuse me, excuse me.”
Han Min quietly licked off the trace of syrup.
Fu Xun’s hand paused in mid-air before flicking his forehead: “You really know how to eat. You ate both pieces.”
Han Min protested: “You bought them for me. You didn’t say you wanted any.”
“I want some now.”
“Then we can buy more later. How about I get you twenty pieces?”
“No.”
—I just want the two pieces you ate.
Han Min, however, didn’t take this as some flowery romantic declaration.
He just thought Fu Xun was difficult to please—two pieces of candy and he acted like this.
Seeing Han Min about to leave, Fu Xun grabbed his sleeve: “Walk with me a bit more.”
Yong’an City was enormous: forty-nine long east–west streets, forty-nine long north–south streets, and countless alleys in between.
At this moment on Xuanwu Street, two lines of guards stood with long spears, keeping the crowd back, as a convoy emerged from Jianguo Temple. In the center carriage, a white veil was draped over the sedan.
Han Min stood in the crowd, standing on tiptoe to get a look.
“Fu Rang is here too?” he asked.
Fu Xun, beside him, was playing with his hair. Han Min frowned and turned to look at him.
Fu Xun withdrew his hand and glanced casually.
As expected, Fifth Prince Fu Rang wore plain clothes, riding alongside the carriage.
Fu Xun explained: “The Empress Dowager summoned the imperial princesses and the ladies of the capital to Jianguo Temple to pray for the late emperor. Today they return to the palace.”
Han Min nodded.
No wonder when he had stayed in the palace earlier, he hadn’t seen Fu Xun’s mother, the Empress Dowager, or Fu Rang’s mother, Consort Hui.
When he moved to the Liu residence, he also didn’t see the ladies of the Liu family.
Liu Ting had mentioned once that they were at Jianguo Temple for the Empress Dowager’s prayers.
Fu Xun glanced once and continued braiding Han Min’s hair.
This time, he planned to braid a four-strand plait—more difficult, but more beautiful.
Inside the carriage on Xuanwu Street, Consort Hui happened to glance up and seemed to notice something. She lifted a corner of the white veil for a better view.
Consort Hui’s eyes focused, then she asked the Empress Dowager seated beside her: “Sister, is that the emperor?”
Though dressed plainly, the Empress Dowager carried an air of dignified grace. She turned her face slightly for a look.
Fu Xun remained engrossed in braiding Han Min’s hair.
The Empress Dowager withdrew her gaze, resting her head in her hand: “That isn’t my son. I don’t acknowledge him—too foolish.”
A denial from one’s own mother.
Consort Hui smiled and asked: “Then who’s the one beside him?”
The Empress Dowager rubbed her temple and replied knowingly: “Who else? The second son of the Han family. Has my son ever treated anyone else like that?”
“He’s back too? He seems taller.”
“Seems so. But my son is still taller.”
At that moment, Han Min twisted to see Fu Xun braiding his hair, swatted his hands away, and turned to leave.
Fu Xun grabbed his sleeve but was brushed off.
From afar, it looked like they were tugging at each other.
As the carriage moved on, the Empress Dowager’s headache worsened. Rubbing her brow, she instructed an attendant: “When we return to the palace, don’t let Fifth Prince leave just yet. Keep him a while longer.”
In reality, it was nothing more than two children under five arguing endlessly but meaninglessly.
“Why do you always play with my hair? Don’t you have your own?”
“Your hair is fun.”
“Mine isn’t fun, yours is.”
“Mine isn’t fun, yours is.”
Their circular bickering went on, causing bystanders to quietly step back.
If childish arguments were contagious…
Han Min glanced around, embarrassed, patted Fu Xun’s hand, and whispered: “Let’s go. People are laughing at us.”
If anyone knew their identities, it would be even more ridiculous.
Oh dear—the emperor and his attendant, quarreling in public, like five-year-olds!
Han Min pulled him, instinctively heading in one direction.
East Xuanwu Street led to Gouchen Street—not a busy street, tucked in a corner, with green bricks and moss.
Han family used to live there.
After their downfall, the property became government-owned and later sold, the funds going to the treasury.
While wandering, Han Min instinctively returned “home,” bringing Fu Xun along.
Stopping before the old Han house, he finally noticed something wrong.
The dilapidated wooden door still had the couplets put up two years ago by Grandpa Han.
The door was worn and also bore government seals.
Locked, it seemed the new owner didn’t live there—perhaps it was just an investment.
Han Min peeked inside, noticing the once lush peach trees were gone. Perhaps they had withered completely.
Before the Han family’s downfall, the peach tree had already half-died, as if it had foreseen the misfortune.
Fu Xun looked at him, draping a hand over his shoulder: “Should I buy the house back for you?”
Han Min, a bit frustrated, didn’t move away: “I’ll buy it myself.”
He never wanted help.
Fu Xun pondered, then asked: “Last time I went to Tongzhou, after I left, didn’t you notice anything?”
He meant the silver notes he had secretly slipped into Han Min’s books and mattress that night.
Han Min blinked, puzzled: “What notes?”
Fu Xun smiled helplessly: “You didn’t notice?”
Han Min honestly didn’t know: “What notes?”
“Nothing.”
Perhaps because Han Min never slept at night and thus never found them.
Fu Xun, not wanting to make him feel indebted, said no more: “Anything you need, your grandfather will bring when he comes to Yong’an.”
Han Min found it odd and asked more, but Fu Xun wouldn’t answer, so he stopped.
By noon, after wandering, Han Min said: “We should go back; my senior brother must be worried.”
“Alright.”
On the way back, Fu Xun kept looking at him.
“What now?” Han Min asked.
Fu Xun pointed to his lapel: “The flower is wilting. Take it off.”
He meant the apricot blossom pinned to Han Min’s clothes.
In the morning, someone had thrown flowers to Senior Brother Jiang, who tossed them to Chu Yu, who then pinned one on Han Min.
Han Min removed the branch: “Done.”
“Whose flower was it?”
“Senior Brother Jiang’s.”
Fu Xun’s expression darkened: “He pinned it on you?”
“No, Chu Yu did.”
Fu Xun looked up at the sky in frustration. Only a day away from the palace, and someone had pinned a flower on him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Fu Xun calmed down, then remarked casually: “Nice clothes. Haven’t seen you wear them before.”
Han Min brushed his sleeve: “Senior Brother Liu made them. I think they’re nice too.”
Now Fu Xun thought they looked awful.
Why are all literati so fussy?
One kind word wasn’t enough—there were Liu Ting and Jiang Huan. When would it end?
Finally, he asked: “Do you need anything?”
“No.”
Han Min didn’t think so, but Fu Xun already planned to give him lots of gifts—plenty!
At Marquis Wenyuan’s residence, they had a meal; Fu Xun even prepared braised pig’s feet for Wen Yan.
After lunch, everyone crowded onto the bamboo bench to look at Xie Dingyuan’s calligraphy, one page per person.
Originally, five scholars barely fit. The bench creaked continuously.
Chu Yu couldn’t help laughing: “This feels wrong.”
Fu Xun sat alone on the extra bench, beckoning Han Min: “Come sit here.”
If Wen Yan’s bench collapsed, there would be nowhere to sleep tonight.
Han Min, embarrassed, tried not to laugh, got down, and walked toward Fu Xun.
Wen Yan nudged Liu Ting with his elbow, reminding him: let Han Min stay away from the emperor.
Liu Ting had initially ignored this, thinking Wen Yan paranoid, but seeing Fu Xun now, a hint of a “wolf’s tail” appeared.
He quickly sat down before Han Min, supported him, placing hands on his shoulders: “Senior Brother sits with you.”
Han Min didn’t notice: “Okay.”
Fu Xun, seeing a gap between them, felt annoyed.
Han Min didn’t know to console him, so he was even more displeased.
By evening, Han Min returned to the Liu residence with two senior brothers and Chu Yu.
Entering via the side gate, Jiang Huan saw two more carriages—veiled in white, like returning from a funeral.
Jiang Huan muttered: “Xizhou, your mother has returned.”
Liu Ting nodded.
Han Min mentioned: “I saw the Empress Dowager’s carriage return from Jianguo Temple today.”
So the ladies who went to pray should also be back.
Chu Yu wanted to leave but said: “I haven’t paid my respects to Madam Liu yet.”
Jiang Huan advised earnestly: “Better not. Go home quickly; otherwise, too late.”
Chu Yu noticed Jiang Huan’s expression and asked why.
Liu Ting explained: “These past years, second younger sister grew up. Mother seeks a suitable family for her, perhaps impatiently.”
“Oh.”
Chu Yu understood: in Madam Liu’s eyes, the suitable family was the Jiang family.
But Jiang Huan didn’t want this, causing headaches.
Chu Yu laughed: “Madam Liu’s taste is poor then—why pick you?”
Jiang Huan grumbled: “If you go now, you’d save me.”
“Go then, let’s go.”
They walked ahead; Liu Ting slowed, taking Han Min’s hand: “Let’s go. Mother liked you. She must think of you even after two years.”
“Okay.”
Approaching the hall, they overheard a woman say:
“…Father, shouldn’t we discuss this? The Han family hasn’t been vindicated; Brother Min is still considered a guilty minister. Isn’t this… inconvenient?”
Han Min paused. Liu Ting, holding his hand, also froze.
He had always thought his mother treated his junior brother well; she often said, “The Han family is a pity.”
Han Min turned away, pretending not to hear.
Then a teacup shattered.
Elder Liu, voice firm: “He is my student. Guilty minister or not, he is my student, just like Ting’er. Liu An, take your wife away.”
Liu An was Liu Ting’s father; the speaker was Madam Liu An.
Liu Ting squeezed Han Min’s hand, ready to lead him, but Han Min pulled him back.
He summoned a servant: “Go notify them. Tell them your young master has returned.”
The servant ran off.
Han Min clasped his hands, staring at his clothes.
Chu Yu embraced his waist: “Do you want to stay at my place?”
Han Min shook his head: “No.”
The hall quieted.
The servant returned: “Old Master requests the young masters come in.”
Liu Ting squeezed Han Min’s hand: “It’s okay.”
The broken teacup was cleaned up by the servants. Old Scholar Liu and his wife sat in the main seats, and to their right sat a middle-aged couple, Liu Ting’s parents, Liu An and Madam An.
A girl who looked about fifteen or sixteen years old, dressed in a plain dress, was originally standing behind the old lady. When the four people came in, she curtsied to them and quickly slipped behind the screen.
That was Liu Ting’s second younger sister, Liu Yu.
She hid behind the screen and peeked out.
The maidservant beside her teased, “The young master has brought new friends home again. Young Master Jiang is here too. I wonder if Madam will like this time…”
She turned her head and saw Liu Yu seemingly looking at someone: “Who are you looking at, young lady?”
Liu Yu pointed at Han Min: “Do you know who this young master is?”
The maidservant smiled and said, “Of course I know, that’s the young master of the Han family.”
Liu Yu turned around and glanced at her: “How did you know?”
“The fabric of his clothes was bought for our young master by the madam before the New Year. Being able to wear the young master’s clothes means that he is the young master’s most precious junior brother.”
“Clever girl.” Liu Yu poked her forehead. “Big sister married his uncle. I wonder how little Pei is doing now.”
Madam Liu had two daughters and a son. The eldest, Liu Yun, had married Han Min’s uncle and given birth to Han Pei, still in Tongzhou.
Liu Yu was wringing a handkerchief in her hand when she saw Han Min bow to her mother, then take out a letter from her sleeve and hand it to her with both hands.
“Lady Yun asked me to deliver a letter to Madam.”
Mentioning her eldest daughter made Madam Liu frown.
When the Han family fell, she wanted to bring her daughter home instead of living in remote Tongzhou. Liu Yun insisted on going, and Madam Liu was furious. In addition, the late emperor held a deep grudge against the Han family, and over the years, they barely exchanged any letters.
She took the letter, asking: “Why not send it herself?”
“She feared Madam might still be angry.”
Madam Liu softened, thanking Han Min. She stood: “Haven’t had dinner? I’ll go urge it.”
She personally went, not wanting to disturb others reading the letter.
—
The meal was quiet. Han Min sat beside Elder Liu, Liu Ting on the other side—essentially being treated like a grandson. No one spoke; the conversation ended there. Each person closed their own door and spoke their own private thoughts.
Elder Liu and his wife sat side by side on the couch, soaking their feet.
The old madam asked, “Old man, are you sure everything is alright after bringing Min’er over?”
Elder Liu, snorted: “What could possibly happen? He’s my student…”
“I know he’s your student, and you feel sorry for your student, but what about the Emperor?”
No, when Min’er first came to Yong’an, he stayed in the palace for a long time. If His Majesty didn’t like him, he wouldn’t have kept him here.” Elder Liu rubbed his legs. “I’m not afraid that Min’er will implicate me.”
Old Madam Liu snorted, “Why aren’t you afraid? This is such a large family. Are you the Chancellor or the grand tutor? Aren’t you afraid?”
Elder Liu smiled and changed the subject: “You have been working hard at Jianguo Temple for a month or so. Is the water cold? Would you like some hot water?”
—
At this moment, Madam Liu was also in her room, reading the letter sent by her eldest daughter over and over again.
Liu An sat down next to her and watched along with her.
“Yun’er is doing quite well.” He pulled out a piece of paper. “Look, my grandson’s handwriting is quite good. The Han family must have taught him with care.”
That was a letter written by Han Pei.
He went to Tongzhou when he was very young and didn’t remember the Liu family much, so his writing was very polite.
Han Pei inquired after her maternal grandparents.
Madam Liu glanced at it and couldn’t help but smile.
Taking the opportunity, Liu An said, “The Han family hasn’t treated them badly, so why don’t you like them?”
“I regret marrying Yun’er to them. If I’d known Han Zhongqi’s temper, I wouldn’t have.” She wept, thinking of her eldest daughter’s hardships.
She blamed the Han family for Yun’er going to Tongzhou, where the girl could have had another chance to remarry.
She choked back tears as she said, “And that old man Han, he insisted on keeping Yun’er here, wouldn’t let her leave, and made her go to Tongzhou with him. Yun’er was young and naive, she could have remarried if she had stayed in Yong’an, but she insisted on going to Tongzhou.”
Liu An supported his wife’s shoulder and gently comforted her, “Then you’re really wronging Old Han the historian. Didn’t Old Han persuade Yun’er to stay? Wasn’t it Yun’er who chose to go to Tongzhou herself?”
After a while, Madam Liu came to her senses and wiped away her tears.
“Father, have you thought it through about bringing Han Min to live with us? What if our family ends up like the Han family did before?”
“Won’t happen. The new emperor is different. And you shouted in the hall then, didn’t care if others heard.”
Madam Liu hesitated for a moment, then pondered and said, “I watched Han Min grow up. I’m not that heartless. I only said a few harsh words. Why did I send him away? Among the dowry I brought, there is a house. I will give him the land deed and the house deed together. Let him live there.”
“Wrong. Why would he accept a house without reason?”
“Yes.”
Then, startled, she asked: “Are you thinking of marrying Yu’er to Han Min?”
“No! Absolutely not! Han family men only care for state affairs. Yun’er was a lesson—I’ll never let Yu’er marry into the Han family.”
Liu An reassured: “No, your father just wants to care for his student.”
“How do you know? He married Yun’er off himself.”
“Historically, marriages were consensual or for alliances. Our family doesn’t serve the court. Han Min hasn’t returned for years. Yu’er hasn’t seen him—how would she like him?”
“True.”
“You venting anger on Min’er isn’t right either. Han family now depends on him. Only he can bring everyone back to Yong’an. Treating him like this doesn’t help Yun’er either.”
“You’re right.”
Seizing the moment, Liu An asked: “Then your words to father today weren’t right either?”
“Yes. Tomorrow, you’ll accompany me to apologize.”
“Why me?”
“Why didn’t you stop me back then?” Madam Liu thought for a moment, then said with worry, “Just because Yun’er married poorly, I’m now even more concerned about Yu’er’s marriage…”
“I think she… should stay a few more years.”
“Yu’er’s fine; all my daughters are good.”
Liu An smiled: “Lady, think clearly. It’s Yu’er who’s marrying. If Ting’er were a girl, he’d be fine: music, chess, calligraphy, sewing—he’d have no trouble marrying.”
“Nonsense.”
Madam Liu pushed him away, got off the bed, and went into the inner room.
Liu An also landed on the ground, pushed open the door and walked out of the room: “Ting’er.”
Moonlight lit the courtyard. Liu Ting waited, replying: “Father.”
“It’s alright now. I had calmed your mother down. Go back and comfort Min’er, and pick out a couple of paintings or calligraphy pieces for him for me.”
Liu Ting nodded in agreement, then hesitated, “Father, my mother…”
Liu An pondered, “How should I put it? Your mother is just an ordinary mother, not as compassionate as Guanyin Bodhisattva. When she encounters problems, she thinks of your sister, you, and Yu’er first. Sometimes she doesn’t care as much about others, but she understands everything afterward. Don’t hold a grudge against her.”
Liu Ting smiled knowingly and said, “I understand. I’ll go now.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
Liu Ting picked out two paintings and calligraphy pieces in his father’s study. When he returned to the courtyard, the light in Han Min’s room was still on.
Han Min was lying on the couch, talking to the system.
“The Han family owes the Liu family. Lady Yun’s past years weren’t easy. Madam Liu is a little resentful—justified. If necessary, maybe I should move out soon.”
The system replied: “Anywhere is fine. How about the Chu family? Chu Yu suggested it. Their carriage looks nice—they must be nicer inside.”
“No. I’ll just find a place. Jianguo Temple is good; the atmosphere suits me. Once the old house is repaired, I can bring everyone over.”
—
There’s one more thing he’s been spending time with his friends lately, and he’s completely forgotten about it.
Madam Liu reminded him that, in the eyes of others, the Han family was still the family of disgraced officials that everyone wanted to avoid.
Without shedding that reputation, life in Yong’an would be difficult.
Han Min was frustrated, wrapping himself in blankets, trying to escape reality for one night.
Later, Liu Ting lifted the covers, tilting his head in: “What are you doing?”
Han Min was startled and sat up, still wrapped in the blanket, “Senior Brother!”
“I knocked outside, got no answer, saw the light, came to check.” Liu Ting patted his back: “Thought you were crying. All good now?”
Han Min looked down, feeling wronged.
Author’s note:
Old Fu: Suddenly, I feel a pang of heartache… could it be that something happened to my wife?
Liu Senior Brother’s kindness is hereditary (whisper).
