Chapter 43: Each Has Its Merits
Thinking back to last night when he had been scrubbing clothes, Han Min couldn’t help but frown slightly.
Fu Xun asked, “What are you thinking about?”
Han Min shivered slightly and shook his head. “Nothing.”
Suddenly, he remembered something. “By the way, Your Majesty, did you find out anything about those assassins from yesterday?”
Fu Xun thought for a moment, his hand on his knee unconsciously brushing the edge of his sleeve.
He replied simply, “They are remnants of the Duke of Gong’s faction.”
Han Min touched his chin, thoughtful. “So it really was him.”
On second thought, it could only have been him.
Fu Quan resented himself for not helping him, so he was intent on taking Fu Xun’s life, putting Fu Xun further down his list of concerns.
Fu Xun didn’t want to say much about it and simply said, “I will handle it, you don’t need to worry.”
Han Min looked back at him. “I know.”
“You were startled yesterday. I’m sorry.”
“Not at all,” Han Min waved his hand. “If it weren’t for Your Majesty’s bravery, I would have died on that boat.”
As if taking his words to heart, Fu Xun said steadily, “I would never let you die.”
After a moment of silence, Fu Xun glanced out the window. It was spring, the sky clear for miles.
“Shall we go for a walk?” Fu Xun asked.
Han Min smiled and nodded. “Sure.”
He got up, bowed slightly, and then followed behind Fu Xun.
Fu Xun looked back at him. “Just like before. You walk up first.”
“Yes.”
Jiangnan, Qi State, was not like Jiangbei, where etiquette was strict. People acted freely, generously, and casually, and seldom observed formalities.
Since the Emperor had given the order, Han Min dared not disobey. He jumped forward and walked beside him.
Fu Xun looked away, secretly smiling, then instructed the accompanying guards, “Follow at a distance. Don’t interfere.”
Wei Gui cupped his fists in acknowledgment and, with several guards, stepped back to remain unseen.
Leaving Funing Palace, they walked along the widest palace road. Ahead was the Zichen Hall, behind was the Fengqian Hall.
Zichen Hall was where the emperor conducted court affairs. Fengqian Hall was where the emperor’s spirit rested after death.
In the center, Funing Hall served as the emperor’s living quarters and resting place.
A central road connected the life of each emperor.
Fengqian Hall was rarely opened, a bit cold and solemn, and naturally, Fu Xun wouldn’t lead Han Min there.
The two walked side by side toward Zichen Hall.
By custom, major court assemblies were held on the first and fifteenth of each month. Today was not a court day; only a few palace staff were cleaning.
One bowed and said, “There is much dust here. Please, Your Majesty and sir, walk somewhere else.”
Fu Xun led Han Min elsewhere.
Like Fengqian Hall, there was a tall building nearby. Guards usually patrolled there, but standing on it provided a full view of the palace city.
On the high platform, wind blowing, Fu Xun stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the green mountains to the north.
Han Min quietly stood beside him.
At that moment, the system suddenly shouted, “Han Min, control—”
Han Min shivered. “I’m busy!”
“You’re just standing there and not talking to Fu Xun. How busy can you be?”
“You don’t understand, I’ll tell you later.”
He then blocked the system.
Only he knew what Fu Xun was looking at—he was gazing toward Song State in the north.
After a long while, Fu Xun asked, “Earlier, I told Old Scholar Liu that if you had taken last year’s imperial exam, Chu Yu wouldn’t have been the third-place scholar. I noticed you looked down silently—were you upset?”
Han Min denied it. “No, I just felt a bit guilty toward Chu Zuoshi.”
“Do you still want to take the imperial exam?”
He thought carefully for a moment. “I don’t know.”
Fu Xun withdrew his gaze, leaning against the wooden railing. “Be honest. Back then, when I suggested you become a court records officer, weren’t you a little unhappy?”
Han Min lowered his eyes but eventually admitted, “A little.”
Fu Xun also looked down at him. “Why?”
He rested on the railing, chin in hand, staring at the scene below. After thinking, he said, “Mainly because everyone else is a historian. My grandfather was a historian in the archives. If I only become a records officer, it feels… inferior.”
Hearing this, Fu Xun remained silent, letting him continue.
“Later, I realized it wasn’t that bad. Compared with many scholars throughout history, being able to be a records officer is already quite smooth sailing.
Born into a family of civil officials, literate, somewhat gifted, lucky to be taught by a teacher. Not waiting until old age to enter service by merit.
In Qi State, a hundred years after its founding, my grandfather always said the nation continues through history; what can be left for later generations is the national history. I thought the same. These past months, writing…”
Han Min suddenly realized and covered his mouth.
He almost revealed to Fu Xun that he was writing a storybook.
Fu Xun asked, “Why stop?”
“I…” Han Min paused, then said, “These past months, writing some stories, I suddenly realized my grandfather wasn’t entirely correct. A country is founded by military might but continues through literature. National histories and storybooks are all written records. Historians and poets are all scholars; none are higher or lower.”
He looked at Fu Xun, steady. “Being a records officer is already very good. Constantly accompanying the emperor, writing directly what is seen, future generations can glimpse our dynasty through the records.”
Fu Xun’s eyes smiled. “Since being a records officer is good, will you start tomorrow?”
“No.”
Han Min refused decisively. He still needed time to write his storybooks.
Fu Xun laughed and nudged his head. “Go back. Old Scholar Liu is looking for you.”
“Yes.”
Han Min left with him, glancing one last time at the green northern mountains.
He turned back and walked beside Fu Xun.
His eyes sparkled, showing a good mood, but he was too shy to keep talking to Fu Xun, so he whispered to the system,
“System, Fu Xun is really good. He listens to me and doesn’t mock me. Although we don’t get along well on small things like playing with hair, on major matters, he…”
Han Min chattered for a while, then noticed the system wasn’t responding.
He remembered he had blocked it.
Before he could unblock it, Fu Xun asked, “What are you thinking?”
“Thinking…” Han Min paused, and his starry eyes finally fixed on him. “You are really kind.”
Such rare praise struck Fu Xun unexpectedly. He suddenly felt as if something had hit him.
He didn’t dare bully him anymore, Fu Xun thought helplessly.
Just as he was about to speak, Old Scholar Liu appeared.
Old Scholar Liu bowed to him. “Your Majesty.”
Fu Xun composed himself and asked calmly, “Did you find the book you were looking for?”
“I, your humble servant, did not find it.”
He hadn’t really been looking for a book; it was an excuse to have them alone. He hadn’t expected Fu Xun to bring Han Min along so quickly.
Old Scholar Liu said, “This student of mine is naughty and caused trouble for Your Majesty.”
“No, not at all.”
Old Scholar Liu then withdrew. Han Min bowed to his teacher and helped him leave.
The carriage ride was smooth. Old Scholar Liu sat in the center, eyes closed, resting.
Han Min finally unblocked the system.
The system grumbled, “What secret thing were you doing with Fu Xun again?”
“Nothing. He just thought I’d be unhappy about becoming a records officer.”
“Just that? You blocked me, and I thought you’d do something I couldn’t see. And it’s just this?”
“Yes. So what?”
The system said, “Before, when he wanted you to be a records officer, weren’t you unhappy? Now you say you don’t want to, did he change it for you?”
Han Min looked at the carriage roof. “No.”
“Alright, nonsense spoken.”
“I mean, I didn’t feel unhappy. Now I think being a records officer is great.”
He indeed looked pleased, tapping his foot while resting his hands.
The carriage exited the palace, moving farther away. Old Scholar Liu opened his eyes. “Min’er, why are you smiling?”
Han Min hid his expression. “Nothing.”
Old Scholar Liu shook his head. “You forgot what I said this morning.”
Seeing his teacher serious, Han Min quickly hugged his arm. “I didn’t forget. ‘The emperor’s heart changes easily.’”
“Just remember that. Don’t be like your grandfather.”
“I know. I have the entire Han family behind me. I won’t act recklessly. Besides, I’m not a concubine for Fu Xun, so I don’t have such concerns.”
Old Scholar Liu pinched his cheek mockingly. “Nonsense again.”
Back at the Liu residence, Han Min escorted the teacher to his room, then returned to his own room.
He closed the door, sat at his desk, and pulled out his half-finished manuscript.
Flipping through previous content, he dipped his brush in ink, humming as he wrote his storybook.
The system said, “You’re in a good mood today.”
“Yes. I used to think writing storybooks was for survival, but after talking with Fu Xun, I realized I actually enjoy writing storybooks.”
“Do you like writing storybooks, or do you like writing about the emperor?”
Han Min put down the brush. “You’re strange today.”
The system said mysteriously, “The control center responded this morning.”
“Oh,” Han Min remembered. “You used my compensation to exchange for the ‘Fu Xun’s Wife’ series plot. What did you ask them this time?”
“The last time, we talked about ‘Male Empress.’ I got curious and asked whether Fu Xun’s spouse is male or female.”
Han Min lowered his head to flip through the manuscript, seemingly uninterested, yet slightly curious.
Finally, he asked.
“What is it?”
The system said triumphantly, “You’ll never guess.”
Han Min guessed, “He wouldn’t be without a wife, right? That would be too sad.”
“No, no,” the system hurriedly said. “His empress—”
“Hm?”
“Is male!”
Han Min exclaimed, “Wow!”
Then they both spoke simultaneously.
The thoughtful system said, “I don’t know if it’s Wen Yan or Chu Yu.”
Han Min made a victory gesture. “Yes! I still have a chance to sleep in the emperor’s bed.”
Then silence fell.
The system, realizing, shouted angrily, “What nonsense are you thinking? Have some ambition!”
Han Min hugged his manuscript, trembling. “Being a male empress isn’t ambitious?”
The system reconsidered. “…Maybe not.” It quickly regained composure. “Anyway, you’re the least likely.”
Han Min was indignant. “Why not me? I look good! Look at this handsome face, these shoulders, hands, waist, legs.”
“Did you forget? You’ve fought Fu Xun. Being able to be his subordinate quietly is already hard enough. If you fought him daily, either you’d die or he would.”
“Have some confidence in me, will you?”
The system scoffed. “Impossible.”
“What if I fight him and win?”
“Don’t be blindly confident. Winning him is less likely than becoming the male empress.”
Han Min countered, “So you’re saying I still have a chance to be the empress.”
The system was speechless and stopped responding.
Originally, the system wanted to gossip about who it might be. But Han Min’s interruption made it forget, wondering faintly if this really was Han Min.
Han Min, however, only joked about the male empress.
He continued writing his storybook.
After a while, the system asked, “Who do you think that person is?”
Han Min wrote seriously, replying casually, “Who cares?”
“Don’t care at all?”
Han Min snorted. “If it’s not me, no need to care.”
“Be serious.”
“Okay, okay.”
He sat upright, hands on his knees.
The system asked, “Who do you think it is? Wen Yan or Chu Yu?”
“I think…” Han Min considered, shaking his head. “Neither really. Wen Yan is straightforward, Chu Yu is flirtatious. Neither works.”
“Who else? The Wei brothers?”
Thinking of Wei Gui and Wei Huan, Han Min laughed. “You’re pushing them to war against Song State.”
“Your senior brother?”
“You dare go after my senior brother? Impossible! My senior brother is absolutely impossible!”
“Fine, then tell me.”
Han Min dipped his brush in ink. “I won’t. Boring.”
The system asked, “You really don’t want to know?”
“No.”
“Really? Don’t want to play matchmaker?”
“No.” Han Min rested his head and pouted, annoyed, scribbling over mistakes. “If Fu Xun likes someone, he can pursue them himself. Why should I matchmake?”
The system was puzzled. “You seem strange today.”
Han Min said boldly, “If he can’t even get a wife, he might as well not have one.”
“Are you angry?”
“No.”
The system was surprised. “You’re really angry? Why?”
Han Min blocked it and bent over his manuscript.
Ten days passed until late March.
Han Min had stayed in his room, finishing the first volume of The Emperor and the Third-Place Scholar’s Stories early.
That morning, Little Jizi brought in a hot towel.
“Sir, it’s time to get up.”
Han Min struggled, rose from the couch, absentmindedly running his hands through his hair.
He had stayed up writing last night, rushing to finish, still being urged to sleep by Little Jizi.
Little Jizi wrung out the towel. “Young master, today Master Liu asks if you want to accompany the ladies of the household to Jianguo Temple to offer incense?”
Han Min yawned. “Not going. I have business today.”
“I’ll prepare then—”
“No need. I should return soon. You can practice your calligraphy; I’ll check when I return.”
“Yes.”
Han Min washed, practiced a Tai Chi routine in the courtyard, then grabbed his manuscript to leave.
He coincidentally met the Liu family ladies heading out. Several carriages were parked at the side gate.
Liu Ting helped the elder lady into the carriage, then Madam Liu, and saw Han Min approaching. “You’re not coming?”
Han Min nodded. “Some business.”
Liu Ting said, “The vegetarian meal at Jianguo Temple is good. If you make it in time, mention my name.”
“Okay.”
He waved to Liu Yu, who was chatting with a few maidservants. “Second sister, get in.”
Liu Yu turned and saw Han Min. She softly exclaimed “Ah,” quickly adjusted her hairpin, and performed a respectful bow. The maids followed her lead.
Han Min cupped his fists. “Second sister.”
Liu Yu bowed slightly, too low for Han Min to hear, then walked away.
Two Liu family carriages departed, Liu Ting riding alongside.
Liu Yu leaned by the window, lost in thought, ignoring the teasing maids.
Once out of the Liu family’s street, Han Min turned a corner, put on a wide-brimmed straw hat, and headed to Baishi Bookstore.
The system complained, “You really can’t read the situation.”
“What?”
“Liu Ting called her ‘Second sister,’ like in Dream of the Red Chamber. You said ‘Second sister’—like Water Margin.”
“That’s senior brother’s sister. If I—then it wouldn’t be righteous. Better this way.”
The system understood. “So you know all this.”
Han Min quickly denied. “I don’t. I know nothing. The teacher might think that way, but he wouldn’t interfere. Madam Liu wouldn’t agree, and Liu Yu definitely wouldn’t.”
“Why not her?”
“From when I was young, I saw that she’s a girl with her own mind.”
“Maybe she’d be impressed by your looks? You might be blindly confident, but your face deserves some trust.”
Han Min pinched his face. “This…” Then realized, “You were complimenting my looks just now, weren’t you?”
The system was disgusted. “Go away, I wasn’t.”
At Baishi Bookstore, the same young clerk recognized him and led him to the backyard.
It was the third time they met. The clerk said familiarly, “Sir, you’re here. Mr. Ge instructed us to check near the end of the month if Pine Smoke Ink Guest arrives. The printing shop has paper and type ready, waiting for your manuscript.”
Han Min smiled. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“No, it’s just that we readers were anxious.”
Passing through the corridor, the clerk looked back. “I’ve been reading your storybooks. The Emperor and the Censor had four volumes—was that it? Who are you writing about this time? Will you write the Censor later? I prefer the Censor.”
“This time it’s The Third-Place Scholar.”
Han Min’s gaze drifted elsewhere. He thought of Wen Yan.
Wen Yan was sensitive and overthinking.
Han Min said, “No more Censor stories in the future.”
“Such a pity. Many liked the Censor. I wonder about the Third-Place Scholar—can he compare?”
Han Min thought: “Each has its merits.”
“Each has its merits?”
He considered: Wen Yan came from a declining marquis family, trapped in a narrow alley, cold and direct—hard to approach.
Chu Yu came from wealthy merchants, gentle, amiable, liked to joke—top-notch young master.
Final conclusion:
“But they’re both very good-looking.”
The clerk understood. “So you like handsome looks.”
He paused, smiling foolishly. “Honestly, I like that too.”
They arrived at a room in the backyard. The clerk knocked. “Mr. Ge, your long-awaited Pine Smoke Ink Guest is here.”
Soon, Mr. Ge opened the door. Seeing Han Min, he laughed, hands on his shoulders.
“You’ve come?”
“Yes.”
He sent the clerk away and pulled Han Min in.
Han Min took out a blue cloth bundle. “This month’s manuscript.”
Mr. Ge took it without looking, placing it on the desk. “Last month you asked me—”
He noticed Han Min wasn’t listening, staring at another person.
Han Min blinked at a man in scholarly attire, faded white robe patched at elbows and knees, calm and proud.
Tall but thin, belt long, a few white hairs at the temples.
Pale-faced, lips faint.
The scholar saw Han Min’s tall figure, bright almond eyes, and smiling expression.
Han Min remembered him.
Last month, when he came to see Mr. Ge, this scholar was there.
Mr. Ge smiled. “His surname is Xie, Xie Yan. Lives nearby, paints and writes well.”
He introduced Han Min: “Pine Smoke Ink Guest, Han Min. You’ve always thought he earned a lot and wanted to learn from him.”
Han Min bowed slightly. “Pleased to meet you.”
Xie Yan studied Han Min, returning the bow.
Mr. Ge gestured: “Sit.”
The three sat at three sides.
Han Min asked, “So, Mr. Ge, you’re settled to work for Baishi Bookstore?”
“Yes. In Tongzhou, I helped arrange the contract. Baishi Bookstore feared I’d leave, and you’d leave too, so they insisted I stay. Also—” he flipped a ledger, “Here’s the record of what you earned from the last few volumes.”
Han Min glanced through it.
Mr. Ge continued, “They also wanted me to see if another Pine Smoke Ink Guest could be found. Not many like him exist. Xie Yan wanted something to do, so I let him try writing two volumes.”
“I see.”
Mr. Ge poured tea. “Last month, you asked me to look at a house on Gouchen Street?”
“Yes, do you know?”
“The person said the owner is away for a few days. When he returns, he’ll likely invite you.”
“Good, thank you, Mr. Ge.”
“I’ll go with you to try to negotiate the price lower.”
Han Min sipped tea. “Good.”
Mr. Ge straightened, adding tea. “I have a favor.”
Seeing him serious, Han Min set the cup down. “Go ahead.”
Mr. Ge pushed Xie Yan forward. “Can I entrust him to you?”
“Ah?”
“Just teach him to write storybooks.”
“Well…”
“Don’t worry. Teach him. They’ll pay on time. I really can’t teach him.”
Xie Yan was uneasy, avoiding Han Min’s gaze, coughing slightly.
Mr. Ge patted his back. “Look, he’s fallen on hard times, can’t even buy medicine. Scholars of the world are one family. Han Min, help him.”
Han Min met Mr. Ge’s earnest gaze, gritted teeth, and nodded. “Alright, but teaching him…”
“Don’t worry. Teach him first. I’ll have them bring some food.”
Mr. Ge stood, smiling, patting Han Min’s head, then pushed Xie Yan toward him. “Learn well.”
After Mr. Ge left, the two exchanged a glance, then quickly looked away.
Awkward.
Xie Yan said, “He’s like this, thinks he’s a judge of talent, likes picking up fallen scholars.” (Referring to Mr. Ge)
Han Min said, “I see. Can I see what you’ve written first?”
Xie Yan took a manuscript from his sleeve, placing it before him.
Han Min focused. “This…”
“What?”
“Your handwriting…”
Xie Yan’s expression darkened, reaching to take it back.
Han Min saw this, quickly changed his tone, thumb up: “You imitate Xie Dingyuan’s script very well.”
Xie Yan twitched, quietly retracting his hand. “I… imitate his writing to earn money.”
“I see. Let me see what you’ve written.”
Han Min stood the manuscript, hiding behind it, secretly calling the system. “System, come out! Is this Xie Dingyuan?”
Author’s Note:
Min Min: System! Come out, star-chasing!
The seven disciples of Dingyuan are all here. While writing, a mnemonic was used: Jiang Yingliu, Wen vs Han, Chu the Third-Place Scholar, Xie Dingyuan.
Seems like one is missing, but mostly complete. Han Min keeps showing off in front of his little adorable ones.
