Chapter 62: The Foolish Emperor
The palace attendant pushed open the hall doors. “Master Little Han, His Majesty is inside.”
Han Min answered softly and took out a wax-paper-wrapped packet of candied fruit from his sleeve. “Candied dates from Tongzhou—please have some.”
After the attendants thanked him, Han Min carried two wooden boxes into the hall.
Fu Xun sat upright on the couch, a scroll in his right hand, his left arm resting on his knee. He heard the footsteps coming in but deliberately did not look up.
Only when Han Min bowed and addressed him did he act as though he had just noticed him, lifting his eyes.
“You’ve come for duty?”
“Yes.”
“What are you holding?”
“I brought back a few things from Tongzhou. Nothing valuable—just a small token.”
Han Min stepped forward and set the two boxes on the table.
Fu Xun pointed at the seat opposite his couch, letting him sit, then opened the top box.
As expected of a scholar—inside were two brushes and a book.
Fu Xun gave a helpless little laugh. “Very nice.”
The two brushes rolled a bit in the box. He picked one up, examined it briefly, then placed it on the table.
There was also a book scroll, seemingly freshly printed, the scent of ink still strong.
Probably a newly published text of the sages.
Fu Xun took it out and flipped through a couple of pages without even checking the cover at first.
His brows tightened. Then he flipped to the cover.
The title read—
A Complete Record of the Weapons in the West Hall of Wude Palace.
Wude Palace was the building beside the training grounds, separated into East Hall and West Hall. Fu Xun had taken him there once before; it was where Fu Xun kept the weapons he had collected over the years.
Previously, Han Min had said that these should be catalogued properly, the way scholars created catalogues for books.
Fu Xun had told him to do it, but never gave it much thought—assuming he wouldn’t actually do it.
Yet here Han Min was, presenting the complete record of the West Hall.
Thinking back now—every morning when Fu Xun practiced his sword at the training grounds, Han Min would follow, write a brief line in the Daily Record such as “Morning, martial practice,” then often disappear somewhere. He’d return only after estimating the time.
Fu Xun assumed he was slacking off and didn’t bother questioning him.
Turns out he was taking that time to work on this.
He flipped through a few pages carefully.
It was done with great diligence. Han Min likely wasn’t familiar with the weapons, so he must have used the reference diagrams the system provided, comparing one by one.
Even the patterns carved on the silver spear and the materials used for the bowstrings were written in meticulous detail.
Now Han Min sat across from him, eyes bright, watching him with anticipation.
Fu Xun closed the scroll and immediately met his gaze.
He may be silly, but he’s serious about being silly.
Fu Xun suppressed the smile tugging at his lips and said, “It’s very good. I like it a lot. Thank you.”
Han Min smiled. Then, noticing the two boxes on the table, he moved the top one aside.
“There’s also this…”
Before he finished speaking, Fu Xun lifted a hand and opened the second box.
Inside was not a gift—just a stack of banknotes.
Fu Xun’s expression stiffened, and he looked up at him.
Han Min explained, “Last time I went to Liuzhou, Your Majesty gave me three banknotes. Later, when you came to Tongzhou, you stuffed thirty-seven banknotes in my place. I didn’t notice the thirty-plus notes at first—Grandpa found them when he was helping tidy my room. When I returned this time, Grandpa gave them to me, so I added three more and brought them back to return to Your Majesty.”
Fu Xun said, “Keep them.”
“It’s too much. I am ashamed to accept it.”
“Consider it payment for this book. Take it.”
As he spoke, Fu Xun pushed the money toward him.
Han Min pursed his lips, thinking for a moment before asking, “Then… may I use this money to pay off my debt to Your Majesty?”
Fu Xun hadn’t expected that.
He lifted a hand and pulled the banknotes back. “No. I see—you just don’t want to do your duties.”
Han Min’s mouth flattened. “Fine…”
“You have plenty of time. You can repay slowly.”
Fu Xun put the banknotes away, stepped down from the couch, and grabbed the long saber hanging on the wall.
When he turned and saw Han Min, he tossed the saber to him. Han Min scrambled to catch it.
Fu Xun beckoned him with a smile.
Han Min walked over with the long saber in his arms. “I’m a Palace Record Keeper Officer, not a guard.”
Fu Xun loved martial practice; armor often hung from the clothing racks.
He took off Han Min’s black official cap and picked up a silver-white helmet from the side, intending to put it on him.
At the moment, Han Min had not tied his coronet, only gathered his hair and tucked it into the cap. The helmet was a bit heavy and uncomfortable. He raised a hand to remove it.
But Fu Xun said, “Keep it on.”
“Why?”
“You look foolish.”
What kind of nonsense was that?
Why should he keep it on because it made him look foolish?
Han Min snatched the helmet off and shoved it into Fu Xun’s arms. “I don’t want it.”
He turned to retrieve his cap, but Fu Xun caught his sleeve.
“Once the sun rises, it’ll get hot. Forget it—let’s go.”
The emperor always rose early. It was still morning, and Han Min accompanied him to the training grounds for a while.
—
The sun began to climb. The two headed back toward Funing Palace.
Afraid of heat and sun, Han Min quietly walked along the shaded side of the palace path.
Fu Xun joined him there, casually taking the Daily Record from his hands to read.
The Palace Record Keeper Officer dutifully tried to hide it from him, blocking it with his hand, and the two of them ended up arguing.
At that moment, a eunuch hurried up the path and stopped in front of them, bowing. “Your Majesty, Master Little Han.”
Fu Xun returned the item to Han Min, hands behind his back, and straightened up. “What is it?”
“The envoy from Song has requested an audience.”
It was the King of Guangning, Zhao Cun, and Princess Rongning of Song.
Fu Xun, apparently not very eager to see them, replied lightly, “I am busy today. Send them back.”
The eunuch bowed and left to deliver the order. Han Min put away his Daily Record.
He said, “When I was traveling to Tongzhou, on the way to Zhoushan, I also met them.”
Fu Xun said, “I know.”
After receiving Han Min’s message, he had already sent someone to check. Han Min would not mention such things without reason.
Han Min asked again, “What does Your Majesty think?”
“You were wronged. A few days ago, Zhao Cun asked me for a hawk, and I did not give it to him.”
Han Min frowned. “I wasn’t talking about that.”
Fu Xun immediately laughed. “Don’t worry, I will not marry the princess either.”
Han Min choked on the words; clearly, he hadn’t meant that either.
Before he could say more, the eunuch leading the Song envoys through the palace path came by. Zhao Cun turned his head, saw Fu Xun, and smiled, calling out, “Your Majesty of Qi,” before stepping forward.
Princess Rongning, her face veiled, followed behind him. Her eyes revealed nothing, her gaze lowered as she walked behind her brother.
They stepped forward and each performed the proper bow.
Zhao Cun bowed, head lowered, smiling, “I had intended to pay my respects to Your Majesty, but unexpectedly met you here. Rongning, come, pay respects—”
He turned toward Princess Rongning, then noticed Han Min standing beside Fu Xun.
His words faltered. Princess Rongning inclined slightly and said coldly, “Greetings, Your Majesty.”
Zhao Cun still could not speak. She seemed to sense something odd, lifted her eyes, and also saw Han Min.
Today, Han Min wore the crimson official robes of a Palace Record Keeper Officer. Compared with the plain look he had in the mountain temple that day, he now looked far more dignified.
The red robe was even brighter in the sunlight. He had not worn his official cap, his black hair simply tied up, face pale as jade. Seeing them, he pressed his lips slightly, showing little expression.
Han Min stepped back half a pace and bowed to them.
Zhao Cun regained his composure. “Who is this official?”
Before Han Min could answer, Fu Xun said, “He is my Palace Record Keeper Official, Han Min.”
“My apologies, Master. I had previously only met Ministers Chu and Yu and did not recognize Master Han.”
“Since you have come to pay respects, come and go.”
Fu Xun sent for the eunuch to escort the Song envoys back to the inn.
—
The Song envoys were lodged at an inn in the east of the city. Besides their own attendants, Qi guards were stationed outside, and some of the servants attending them were also Qi nationals.
The Duke of Guangning and Princess Rongning returned to their room. The princess sat silently on a round stool, lifted her veil, and her face was icy.
Zhao Cun poured a cup of tea and pushed it toward her. “Little sister, what’s wrong this time?”
Princess Rongning remained silent.
Zhao Cun patiently coaxed her for a while before she spoke: “The Emperor of Qi clearly has no interest in me. Why do you keep sending me to pay him respects every few days?”
“Is it truly the Emperor who has no interest in you, or is it you who have no interest in him?”
“We have no interest in each other at all.”
“Historically, princesses sent for marriage often never even see the other side. The Emperor of Qi is in the prime of life, looks and manners are excellent. What dissatisfaction could you possibly have?”
Princess Rongning seemed to notice something and stared intently at him.
Zhao Cun realized he misspoke and quickly corrected, “If you are unwilling, then forget it. You won’t be sent there again.”
She raised a hand, motioning “please,” and said, “Brother, you may go first. I am tired.”
Zhao Cun glanced at her, unsure whether she was angry or suspicious. He nudged the tea cup toward her before leaving.
Once the door closed, Rongning swept her sleeve across the table, knocking the tea cup off.
Her mission to Qi, under the guise of diplomacy, was in fact a marriage arrangement.
She and her brother had come from families of disfavored concubines. If it were not for this envoy mission, she would never have been brought out from the shadows.
Naturally, she did not want to comply with her father’s wishes and marry into Qi.
She had assumed her brother was incompetent, only interested in pleasure, but after entering Yong’an, he was far different.
He seemed intent on forcing her to comply, an odd and unsettling air about him.
—
At Funing Palace, after breakfast, Fu Xun reviewed memorials in the study while Han Min sat beside him recording the notes.
Suddenly, Fu Xun asked, “What is your view of Song?”
Han Min put down his brush and thought for a moment. “Song is playing a long game. They know they cannot match Qi in national power, so they rely on changes within Qi itself.”
“Yes. Continue.”
“I recall that when the late emperor ruled, Song also married a princess—two princesses. Apparently, Song found it profitable, which is why this time they insist on sending Princess Rongning.”
Fu Xun pressed his hands to his knees. “Indeed. The late emperor favored that princess greatly in his final years, bringing her everywhere. At the time, I was leading troops in the northwest. In several minor conflicts, I suffered hidden losses from Song. I didn’t understand at first, but later realized why.”
After ascending the throne, he immediately discussed with the empress dowager and sent all remaining consorts of the late emperor to nunneries.
As for that princess, since the late emperor liked her, she was sent as a burial companion.
This bloodiness was not something he would tell Han Min.
Han Min continued, “If the two countries go to war, Song will resist to the death. Qi may win, but only narrowly. The expenditure of wealth, manpower, and soldiers would be enormous. It would deplete Song’s resources but at a high cost to Qi. Rushing into war makes it difficult to retreat—it may not be wise.”
“Yes. Following your advice, what should we do about the Song princess?”
“From her demeanor, it seems she does not favor Your Majesty. But the Duke of Guangning seems determined to marry her off. In the future, the two of them will likely have conflict. It is better to watch quietly. Secretly investigate their family backgrounds—either try to win them over or dismantle their plans one by one.”
Fu Xun let out a small laugh. “I thought you would tell me to turn the situation around and marry the Song princess.”
Han Min instinctively said, “Nonsense.”
He turned his head and touched the tip of his nose. “I’ve never thought about such a thing.”
Fu Xun asked again, “Then I won’t marry her?”
“Mm.”
Han Min blinked in slight surprise, lightly patting his own cheek. It’s not you marrying her, why are you asking me?
“If you like her, then marry. If you don’t, then don’t. Why ask me? Could it be that you want to marry her but fear she’s a spy, so you came to me to find a reason? There isn’t one. Just don’t marry her.”
Fu Xun smiled, took his hand, and patted it.
“Alright, I won’t marry her.”
“Be careful. Who knows what schemes they might have over there.”
Fu Xun nodded solemnly. “I know.”
Han Min withdrew his hand. “Then handle the memorials.”
After a moment of silence, Fu Xun picked up the cinnabar brush again, and the only sound was the tip scratching across paper.
“The late emperor’s first three years on the throne were lackluster, even disrupting strategies previously implemented by Emperor Dezong. Now, everything is in need of reform. I intend to restore Qi to proper order—from the court to the countryside. Everything requires adjustment.”
He spoke without looking up, with a serious expression, and used the first-person pronoun.
Han Min glanced at him and cautiously said, “I fully agree, Your Majesty.”
“Now that my trusted aides are in place, it is time to implement reform and new policies.”
“Yes.”
Han Min pressed his lips together and looked at him seriously. Fu Xun continued, “In a few days, Jiang Huan and Chu Yu will come to discuss this matter—”
“You will come too.”
Fu Xun waited a moment, hearing no reply. “Are you so happy you’ve gone silly?”
Han Min froze, then snapped back to reality, eyes brimming with tears. “Thank you for your trust, Your Majesty.”
The ultimate dream of a scholar—to gain the emperor’s trust and favor, achieving co-governance between monarch and minister!
Fu Xun laughed out loud. “Why are you like this? You’re too silly.”
Han Min wiped his eyes. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Why was he crying?
Fu Xun quickly composed himself, set down the brush, and patted his back. “What’s the matter?”
Han Min shuffled closer two steps, then suddenly jumped up and dived into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
He truly had the innocent, carefree heart of a scholar, but Fu Xun’s mind was not so open and straightforward as an emperor’s.
Fu Xun secretly looped an arm around his waist and pinched some of his soft flesh, but spoke seriously: “Regarding the Song princess, I asked Jiang Huan, Chu Yu, and Wen Yan. None of them gave an answer as good as yours.”
Han Min released him. “What did they say?”
“They all suggested that I turn the situation to my advantage and take the princess.”
Fu Xun looked down and held Han Min’s hand. “You are the best. As soon as I asked if you wanted me to marry her, you said ‘nonsense.’”
Han Min’s ears turned red. He hurriedly defended himself. “Rude! I never said that!”
Realizing his hand was still being held, he pulled it back. “Once you become emperor, there will be no shortage of beauty schemes. If you ever fall for one, I will record it in the Daily Record in full, so future generations know you were a foolish emperor.”
—
That day, Han Min was so happy he felt like he could fly. He smiled at everyone he spoke to.
Even walking out of the palace, he would occasionally leap up.
The system said helplessly, “Calm down a little.”
“You don’t understand. I felt like this when I read Romance of the Three Kingdoms.”
“You…”
“System, send me all the documents on reform and new policies. I must prepare for the discussions in a few days.”
The system replied, “You are really overdoing it.”
Han Min didn’t hear it. Clenching his fists, he murmured to himself, “I have already decided to serve His Majesty with my life.”
—
The next day, it was Minister Yu’s turn on duty. Han Min had already organized the Daily Record yesterday, so he didn’t need to enter the palace.
He packed the gifts he had brought for friends and went next door to find his cousin Han Li.
It was late, and Han Li was reading in his room. He brought the scrolls to open the door.
Han Min said, “Cousin, I’m visiting friends today. If you’re free, shall we go together?”
Han Li wasn’t technically his cousin, but Han Min called him that for convenience.
He nodded, telling Han Min to wait outside while he changed clothes.
Actually, yesterday, Old Scholar Liu and Liu Ting had visited the Han household with several elders to see Grandpa Han.
They chatted for a long time. Han Li had prepared his own essays to consult Old Scholar Liu, but the old friends were engrossed in conversation, and he couldn’t say a word. He held a teapot, standing uselessly on the side for quite some time.
Han Min, waiting in the corridor, remembered something and knocked on the door. “Cousin, don’t worry about the gifts. I’ve prepared everything.”
Han Li hurriedly replied while changing clothes, “Good.”
He didn’t care much for Han Min’s gifts.
When in Tongzhou, Han Min had gone shopping. Han Li had seen the items—nothing valuable. The family had also prepared gifts for him in advance, knowing he would meet important people in the future.
After changing into his visiting attire, Han Li picked up his items and opened the door.
Han Min glanced at him. “So you were already prepared.”
They chatted along the way and soon arrived at the small alley outside the Marquis Wenyuan Mansion.
Wen Yan had difficulty walking and hadn’t yet moved in. The alley looked shabby, crowded with street vendors.
What kind of people could be here? Han Li paused mid-step, almost thinking Han Min was teasing him. His expression darkened, and he was about to lose his temper.
The alley was narrow. Han Min walked ahead, explaining, “Up ahead is—”
Before he could finish, someone wrapped an arm around his waist from behind. “Han Min.”
Han Min turned around to see Chu Yu.
Chu Yu said, “I heard you were back a few days ago. Today, you finally went out, and you didn’t come find me first. I knew you’d come to see Wen Bianzhang first.”
“I only came back the day before yesterday, and I was on duty yesterday.”
“The emperor is too much. You just got back and already have work to do.”
Han Min tapped him on the head. “You’re not allowed to speak ill of His Majesty.”
“You’re crazy! You hit me for someone else!”
After chatting for a while, Han Min pulled Han Li over.
“This is my cousin, Han Li.”
“And this is last year’s third-place candidate, Chu Yu, Chu Zhuoshi.”
Han Li had been scowling, but hearing that Chu Yu was the third-place candidate softened his expression.
After exchanging greetings, Han Li added politely, “I’ve often heard Min speak of you. Chu Tanhua, your literary talent is remarkable. I’ll be taking the imperial exams in two years; I hope for your guidance.”
Chu Yu glanced at Han Min, waved his hand, and said, “No need for formalities. Happy to help.”
After a few simple words, Chu Yu pulled Han Min aside. “You actually compliment me in front of others? Rare! Say a few more words.”
“I won’t say anything.”
Han Li came closer, and Han Min smiled at him, making sure he wasn’t ignored and continued talking with him.
Entering the Marquis Wenyuan Mansion and passing through the stone corridor, Wen Yan sat by the window on the couch, writing.
He still had ten or so days before the splint on his leg could be removed, so his foot was still propped up.
Han Min shushed the two of them, quietly moving forward to look at what Wen Yan was writing. “Let me see, Bianzhang—”
Unexpectedly, Wen Yan was faster. He flipped the paper back into the book, pressing it down.
“You’re better off not looking. There’ll be time later.”
He set the book aside and nonchalantly asked, “You’re back?”
“Mm.”
Han Min pulled Han Li over and introduced him to Wen Yan.
The two exchanged polite greetings and said a few words.
Then Chu Yu pinched Han Min’s face. “Did you bring gifts for us?”
“Of course, for Bianzhang.”
Han Min rummaged through the boxes he brought and handed the one labeled with the character “Wen” to Wen Yan.
Han Li leaned over to see.
It was a handkerchief, embroidered in Tongzhou with a small white rabbit with red eyes.
There was also something in a jar. Wen Yan opened it—yellow soybean paste.
Han Min explained seriously, “The handkerchief is to wipe your tears. I had the little white rabbit specially embroidered—it resembles your eyes. The soybean paste goes great with pig’s trotters. You’ll recover soon; eat more pig’s trotters to get better faster.”
Wen Yan took a deep breath, grabbed the handkerchief, and tossed it into Han Min’s arms, pointing at the door. “Go.”
While speaking, Chu Yu found the box labeled “Chu.”
“Let me see what good stuff I got.”
—Several large stones.
“Really, Han Min? Where did you get these stones?”
“Not picked up, bought. One can be carved into jade. Take it back to have a craftsman work on it. I picked them carefully—they’ll make something good.” Han Min sat beside him. “Zhuoshi, Zhuoshi, your name suits this gift.”
Chu Yu weighed the stones. “Forget it.”
Then Han Li handed over the gifts he had prepared early to Wen Yan and Chu Yu.
“This is Cuiyu tea, named for its color and shape. A tael sells for several hundred taels of silver on the market.”
They thanked him politely. It wasn’t as warm as he imagined, but not cold either.
They’d both held government positions and seen many rare items. Expensive or not, nothing was truly extraordinary to them. This was understandable.
Han Li relaxed slightly, and after chatting a bit more, inserted a few words appropriately, keeping the conversation harmonious.
Looking at the sun, Han Min said, “I still need to deliver gifts to Xie Yan, so I’ll leave first.”
He was about to get up when Chu Yu stopped him.
Chu Yu glanced at Han Li and deliberately said to Han Min, “You still keep in touch with Xie Yan? That guy can neither write nor fight. In ten years, he took the imperial exams twice and now lives in a messy Zen room at Jianguo Temple. Why are you going there?”
Han Min didn’t understand his intention and replied, “He’s a good person with good character.”
He turned to Han Li. “Cousin, let’s go.”
Han Li, however, stood, hesitated, and softly said, “Min, I got along very well with Wen Da-ren and Chu Da-ren. I want to stay a bit longer, so I won’t follow you.”
Han Min realized Chu Yu was testing him.
He couldn’t stop talking about the imperial exams, called everyone “Da-ren,” and mentioned silver coins.
Chu Yu, wealthy as he was, would never look at someone like Han Min.
If it were just that, he’d merely call him a commoner. But now, tested by Chu Yu, Han Min was anxious to distance himself from Xie Yan, afraid Chu Yu and Wen Yan might escape from under his nose.
Ridiculous.
So Han Min smiled helplessly at Chu Yu. “Then I’ll go by myself.”
He left Han Li there. Wen Yan, with a faint smile, gestured to him. “Sit.”
After a little more chatting, Chu Yu finally said leisurely, “Bianzhang, if Xie Yan had passed the imperial exams once and entered office, he wouldn’t be living in Jianguo Temple, looked down on by everyone.”
Han Li jumped up, his face changing several times.
He wanted to go after Han Min but didn’t want to leave the two gentlemen here, so he stood in place for a long while, unable to move.
—
After that little test just now, Han Min naturally had a plan. He carried his things alone and went to Jianguo Temple.
When he arrived, Xie Yan was also bent over writing.
“Strange. Did you make a plan with Bianzhang? Why are you both writing? Let me see.”
Xie Yan, slower to react than Wen Yan, had his work noticed by Han Min as he tried to put it away.
Han Min asked uncertainly, “Is it the thing I saw?”
Xie Yan shook his head. “No.”
“Then let me see it.”
He reached to grab it, and Xie Yan quickly pressed his hand down. “It’s really not what you saw. It’s nothing—just some other writing I’m working on.”
“How do you know what I’m talking about? If it’s another piece, what does it matter if I see it?”
Xie Yan shouted, “Han Min!”
Han Min shouted back, “Xie Shanshi!”
Unable to win the tug-of-war, Han Min plopped down on the ground, whining, “It’s exactly what I saw! I even saw the words ‘Qi Ju Lang.’ I was gone in Tongzhou for a few days, and you were writing ‘His Majesty and the Qi Ju Lang, Matters of Two or Three Things’—you planned this with Wen Bianzhang!”
Xie Yan cautiously added, “And Chu Zhuoshi. He said if I wrote this well, he’d talk to me.”
“You guys are really writing that! I won’t do it!”
Han Min stomped his feet in anger.
