Chapter 69: Eyes Slightly Red
In the height of summer in June, it grew unbearably hot soon after sunrise.
The palace made ice using saltpeter. When Fu Xun traveled, he would place a piece or two in his carriage, making the ride very pleasant.
A hollow was carved into the ice, and atop it sat a glass jar filled with the freshest seasonal fruits.
Fu Xun glanced at it and said to Han Min, “These just came from the south. Try them.”
Han Min had often eaten such treats while on duty at Funing Palace.
They were brought by southern officials reporting to the capital—lychees, cherries, melons, and yangmei. Fu Xun didn’t care for them, so they all ended up in Han Min’s stomach.
Han Min once set a personal record, eating an entire small bamboo basket of cherries alone—so much that even his burps tasted like cherries.
Today’s glass jar held nothing but lychees. Han Min thanked him and reached for one.
Being more reserved in public, he only ate two and then stopped.
Fu Xun looked at him in puzzlement. “Why stop?”
Han Min smiled. “I’ve had enough.”
Because he had eaten so little, Fu Xun instinctively thought, “Is he unwell?”
Han Min forced a smile. “No, Your Majesty. I really have had enough.”
“Then take the rest with you to eat slowly later.”
“Your Majesty is too kind, I don’t need it.”
“This won’t last long. They went to great trouble to send it; if you don’t eat, it’ll go bad.”
“Very well, then I shall do my best to share the burden for Your Majesty.”
He reached for another lychee.
Fu Xun asked again, “The one you just sent out—was it the tailor?”
“Yes. In a few days I will be tying my crown, so I invited the master tailor to come and adjust my clothing.”
Although it was a fitting, Han Min had been called out from home unexpectedly. He wore a modest, somewhat worn outfit—simple and plain.
His hair was tied back with a ribbon. Thinking it over, he tied it all up neatly, higher than usual, giving a more spirited appearance.
Fu Xun watched him tie his hair and casually said, “Among those of us who grew up together, you are the youngest.”
“Yes.”
“And now you will tie your crown.”
“Yes.”
Fu Xun’s smile was faintly enigmatic.
At that moment, the carriage exited the city gates, and from afar came the sounds of horses neighing and crowds cheering.
Han Min lifted the curtain for a glance. Not far off, an open field had been fenced off with wooden stakes and decorated with colorful flags.
High platforms and tents had been erected, each occupied by a noble family. The scene was lively—young gentlemen and ladies alike had come to watch the games.
Han Min lowered the curtain, turned back, and smiled. “Originally a game for Song people, and now Uncle seems to enjoy it too?”
Fu Xun said, “He has long been fighting in the field. Now that there’s no battle, naturally his heart itches for it.” He thought for a moment, then added with a meaningful smile: “Since the Song emissaries have come to Yong’an, they naturally brought their toys.”
A few days ago, the Song Bamboo Hall had sent a secret message: the Prince of Guangning, Zhao Cun, had met Ji Heng. Ji Heng, being the nephew of Minister Li Shu, could reason with him. Any reasonable request would be granted by Li Shu.
When Fu Xun received the message, he instructed Li Shu to comply with whatever Ji Heng wanted to do in the coming days.
Thus, this polo field was actually arranged by Zhao Cun and Ji Heng, carried out through Li Shu’s hand. Fu Xun had coordinated with Li Shu beforehand.
But he did not intend to explain this to Han Min. Seeing him lifting the curtain in curiosity, Fu Xun looked away and said lightly, “If you like, in September during the autumn hunt, chasing wild rabbits and geese will be more interesting.”
Han Min said, “That all sounds interesting.”
Fu Xun said seriously, “Wild rabbits are everywhere on the hills, unlike them—running headlong just to snatch a ball.”
Han Min looked at him, wanting to laugh but holding it in, struggling to suppress it.
Fu Xun glanced at him. “If you want to laugh, just laugh.”
Han Min rubbed the tip of his nose and even helped Fu Xun come up with a reason: “Actually, it also depends on the terrain. Our Qi has hills and valleys everywhere, so sometimes horses can’t run very far. That’s why we value hunting in the mountains and fields. Song is mostly plains—they prefer this kind of sport.”
“You mean, polo could be incorporated into military training.”
“Exactly. Song treats it merely as entertainment, which is a shame.”
By now, the carriage had reached the polo field, and they stopped. Outside, people helped His Majesty down.
Once on the ground, Duke of Xin, Li Shu, and Duke of Yue, Fu Le, were already waiting with others outside the field.
After exchanging greetings and a few polite words, Fu Xun looked at Han Min, who was staring intently at the match. He stopped and folded his hands. “Let’s wait until they finish. Paying respects now would only disturb them.”
On the field, players were divided into two teams, marked by red or blue ribbons tied around their right arms.
Han Min stood with the Duke of Yue and seemed to recognize someone. “Uncle, is that Fu Rang wearing the red ribbon?”
“You have a good eye, Min Min. He moves so fast, yet you can still see him. He loves excitement—why would he stay out of the game?”
“It really is quite fun.”
Duke of Yue looked at his own sturdy frame. “Indeed. If you, Uncle, were a few years younger, you’d be on the field with him.”
Han Min smiled. “Let him play. I’ll just watch with you, Uncle.”
After a while, the scores were tied. At the last moment, Fu Rang tugged the reins, leaned across his horse, and swung his mallet to score.
A roar of cheers erupted from the crowd.
Having narrowly beaten the other team, Fu Rang rode proudly, circling the field.
As he neared the exit, he finally saw Fu Xun standing there.
Startled, Fu Rang reined in, jumped down, and bowed: “Your brother, the Emperor.”
Fu Xun looked at him. “Well played. You may rise.”
“Yes!” Fu Rang replied cheerfully and walked over to Han Min and Duke of Yue, standing close as he spoke: “When did you arrive? How is it? I did okay, right?”
Han Min nudged his hand. “It’s hot—don’t stick so close.”
Fu Xun folded his hands and slowly entered the polo field.
He carried a commanding presence. Without waiting for an announcement, everyone in the field noticed him, quieting down and bowing.
The platforms and tents encircled the field. Fu Xun scanned the area, briefly glancing at the Song emissaries’ tent before shifting his gaze elsewhere.
“Duke of Xin said it was interesting, so I came to see. No need to restrain yourselves—play as you wish.”
He turned and waved Han Min over, so he left the others and walked toward him.
—
The Duke of Xin had reserved seats for them in the center. The tent was spacious and slightly higher than the surrounding platforms. A cool breeze blew through.
After Fu Xun sat, everyone else bowed again before taking their seats.
The attendants sat beside and behind him. Han Min lifted his garment, intending to sit, but Fu Xun tugged the cushion in front of him toward himself.
Han Min almost missed it, catching the cushion just in time. Fu Xun placed it beside him and patted it. “Sit here.”
Grumbling, Han Min sat down.
Ch? Yu, sitting behind, quietly took out paper and pen to record.
Wen Yan said, “Lucky you enjoy watching—otherwise, most historians would’ve scolded them to death by now.”
The three dukes also sat with them, greeting each other and sharing some fruit.
The next match hadn’t started yet, and Fu Xun and Han Min, sitting in the front, were eating fruit.
The crystal bowl on the table held some fruit. Fu Xun placed a few pieces in front of Han Min, but he ignored them.
Fu Xun thought for a moment and instructed a servant, “Bring the lychees from the carriage.”
At the word “lychee,” Han Min’s expression flickered slightly.
He casually glanced to his right and noticed someone waving at him.
It was the Liu family’s tent. Liu Yu, dressed in men’s clothing, waved at him. Liu Ting, Jiang Huan, and Xie Yan were also inside the tent.
Han Min waved back.
When the servant brought the lychees, the match on the field resumed.
Han Min ate the lychees while watching, and unconsciously shifted from kneeling to sitting cross-legged. Truly, favored and indulgent, he looked completely relaxed.
—
Another match ended, and Fu Rang, who had been playing all morning, exhausted himself but couldn’t resist going again after a short rest.
He turned to Fu Xun and requested, “Brother, I’m feeling a bit restless. I shall go and play another round with them.”
Before Fu Xun could respond, Duke of Guangning, Zhao Cun, and Princess Rongning arrived.
Zhao Cun bowed: “Greetings, Your Majesty. What a lively mood you’re in today.”
Fu Xun, moving his fingers lightly on his lap, gave a faint smile without much expression. “Duke of Guangning is not bad either.”
“This game originally came from our Song, but since my sister missed home, I happened to know Ji Heng, the nephew of Duke of Xin. I asked him to request Duke of Xin to set up this field for entertainment. Unexpectedly, Your Majesty’s presence here makes us feel unprepared for such a warm welcome.”
Fu Xun didn’t reply, simply watching Zhao Cun with a darkened gaze.
Zhao Cun continued, “But Qi people are playing polo for the first time, so naturally it isn’t as thrilling as in Song.”
He was clearly trying to belittle Qi quietly.
Han Min, not liking his tone, smiled and said, “Your Majesty just told me that since the Song emissaries brought polo here, we Qi people shouldn’t fail to return the courtesy. I was going to take the duke hunting. Wild game is not like dead game—has the duke ever seen a polo ball that runs? But thinking about it, the latter surpassing the former isn’t impossible. Right, Duke?”
Zhao Cun’s face turned iron-like. Considering the purpose of his visit, he restrained his temper and said only, “It’s been a few days—Minister Han is still as sharp-tongued as ever.”
Han Min smiled. “You flatter me.”
After regaining composure, Zhao Cun added, “Since Your Majesty has come today, merely watching from the platform seems dull. Why not join a game? My sister and I are eager to play, and several of our accompanying emissaries are skilled in polo. We’ve heard Your Majesty is good at riding and archery—surely you excel at polo as well. Might we have the honor of playing with you?”
His intentions were clearly unkind, though what scheme he had in mind was unknown.
If they refused outright, Zhao Cun could complain about hurting the emissaries’ feelings or claim Qi was cowardly before all these officials. Refusing openly would be awkward.
Even the simple-minded Fu Rang noticed and offered, bowing, “Brother, perhaps I could play in his stead…”
Han Min ran through a few possible excuses in his mind and deemed them passable, just as he opened his mouth to speak, but Fu Xun held his hand: “No need. You can just watch here.”
He turned to Wei Gui and instructed, “Go to the Liu family’s tent, call Jiang Huan and Liu Ting over, and get them ready.”
Then he looked at Fu Rang: “Since you want to play, have another round.”
Fu Rang nodded: “Yes. I haven’t played these games with Your Majesty for some time.”
Finally, Fu Xun looked at Li Shu: “Will you join, Uncle?”
Li Shu stood and bowed: “I will obey Your command.”
Han Min expected some argument but was surprised at how easily they were convinced. Zhao Cun was naturally pleased and bowed with a smile: “Then please, Your Majesty, and all the dukes, prepare yourselves. My sister and I shall also make ready.”
—
According to Song’s polo rules, teams only needed equal numbers. Fu Xun had intended seven players, but Liu Yu, dressed in male attire, also joined.
“Your Majesty, the opposing team has Princess Rongning. I think we should have a woman on our side as well, so if we win, they can’t say it’s dishonorable.”
Seeing Liu Ting didn’t object, Fu Xun agreed.
A servant brought the polo mallets. The young eunuch serving Fu Xun was clumsy.
Han Min took the mallet. “I’ll handle it.”
The young eunuch wiped sweat from his forehead in relief: “Thank you, Minister Han.”
Standing behind Fu Xun, Han Min realized why the eunuch struggled.
The eunuch was short, while Fu Xun was tall—he couldn’t reach and dared not ask the emperor to bend.
Han Min patted Fu Xun’s shoulder. “You’ll need to assume a horse stance.”
The eunuch froze, teeth chattering nervously.
Fu Xun, unfazed, half-squatted. “Like this?”
“Mm.”
Han Min secured his sleeves and adjusted his robe from the front. He whispered, “Your Majesty, should we prepare early? If Duke of Guangning…”
“No need.”
Fu Xun ruffled his hair.
Zhao Cun’s scheming was, of course, within Fu Xun’s calculation.
When the mallets, decorated with a gilded dragon spiraling through clouds, were brought, Fu Xun held one, weighing it in his hand.
Before going onto the field, he gave Han Min one last caution: “Whatever happens, stay inside. Wait in the tent.”
Han Min sensed something was off but didn’t get a chance to ask before Fu Xun left.
He returned to the tent and sat with Wen Yan and the others.
Chu Yu said, “If I hadn’t been on duty today to record the imperial schedule, I would have gone up with His Majesty to watch.”
Wen Yan asked, “You can play too?”
“Of course. Children from noble Song families learn this from a young age. I practiced when I was little as well.”
Han Min asked, “So all Song people are proficient at polo?”
Chu Yu thought for a moment. “I suppose so. The emperor likes it, so everyone under him trains like mad.”
He smiled. “Oh, Han the Court Attendant, you’re worried that His Majesty might get hurt, aren’t you?” He half-raised his hand and whispered, “His Majesty and Han the Court Attendant are the best together!”
Han Min snorted and turned to talk to the Duke of Yue.
At that moment, another match began. Dark clouds slowly drifted across the sky, but the sunlight was still strong.
Riders from both sides entered the field.
Among the Song emissaries, Duke of Guangning, Zhao Cun, led the charge. On the Qi side, naturally, Fu Xun led.
Zhao Cun had been overlooked in childhood, and only after being made a duke did he get exposure to these games. He felt somewhat unskilled, but seeing his companions had all practiced polo from a young age, he relaxed a little.
Fu Xun himself had never played before.
He glanced at Han Min on the high platform, smiling. This little fool only knew he hadn’t played polo but had forgotten that Fu Xun had been on battlefields—what could possibly scare him?
Han Min, clutching his sleeve, watched him nervously.
Fu Xun smiled at him and then returned his gaze to the field.
Tall and upright like a pine, with a naturally heroic bearing, Fu Xun had the presence of someone tempered in the northwest. That alone made him far more imposing than the other side.
Behind him, Li Shu, Jiang Huan, and the others—all handsome men in their own right—added to the aura. Liu Ting, though appearing delicate, revealed surprising strength when he lifted his sleeves.
The watching young ladies clutched their handkerchiefs tightly.
A hollow bamboo ball was placed at the center, and someone ran off.
As he ran onto the polo field, a signal flag was waved from above, and the next match began.
Horse hooves clattered chaotically, and Fu Rang quickly seized the initiative.
Han Min, sitting on the high platform, kept a close eye on the match while pretending not to be invested, chatting casually with Duke of Yue.
Chu Yu said, “If you want to watch, just watch. No one’s stopping you. Aren’t you tired?”
Han Min turned away, ignoring him. The Duke of Yue added, “Focus properly. Even you, Duke, should watch carefully—this concerns the court and His Majesty’s honor.”
Given a polite prompt, Han Min finally concentrated on the match.
Chu Yu leaned closer, following his gaze, and recorded: “Court Attendant Han Min eyes His Majesty, unblinking.”
Han Min snatched the pen and feigned anger. “Even official history allows you to mess around like this?”
Chu Yu, confident, replied, “The historian’s pen cannot be taken. I write the truth so that future generations may read it. Tell me, is what I write true?” He wrapped an arm around Han Min’s shoulder and whispered.
Han Min did not answer.
—
The match on the polo field had just reached the halfway point, and the scores were tight.
The sun was strong. Fu Xun wiped sweat from his brow, swung his mallet, and scored a goal—but the wooden mallet in his hand cracked.
He rode aside to get a new mallet.
The new mallet looked the same as the others, but only Fu Xun knew it was considerably heavier, with an iron core inside.
Seeing him switch mallets, Li Shu glanced cautiously at him. Fu Xun gave a subtle nod, and Li Shu understood, spurring his horse to confront Zhao Cun.
As time passed, Zhao Cun grew anxious but kept glancing at his sister, Princess Rongning, rather than focusing on the game.
After days of confinement, Princess Rongning finally had the chance to relax and enjoy herself. She wanted to ease tension with her brother, so she focused entirely on the game, unaware that her horse was growing restless.
Fu Xun, wielding the heavier mallet, turned his horse and rejoined the fray.
From the high platform, Han Min, having watched half the match, knew Fu Xun wouldn’t make a mistake and relaxed.
Li Shu swung his mallet, sending the ball toward Fu Xun. Fu Xun spurred forward, with only Princess Rongning closely following, her eyes fixed solely on the bamboo ball.
The polo field was large. Even Liu Yu, the closest pursuer, lagged behind.
Princess Rongning caught up to Fu Xun and guided her horse, but suddenly it went berserk. With a loud whinny, it reared, throwing her violently off its back.
She hit the ground with a thud, her body screaming in pain, numb under the hooves.
The horse was still wild, charging recklessly, soon to trample her.
No one had anticipated this sudden turn of events. Riders scattered chaotically. Young nobles watching jumped to their feet, some covering their eyes in fear.
Han Min also stood, moving to the edge of the platform, intending to jump down—but the frenzied horse wasn’t under control, and everyone on the field was riding toward it. Jumping now would risk being trampled.
The situation remained urgent. No one could reach her; only Fu Xun was nearby.
He spurred his horse forward. Princess Rongning, using every ounce of strength, reached out, trying to grab him to get back on her horse.
Fu Xun ignored her and stopped in front of her, turning his horse toward the rampaging steed and raising his mallet.
To bystanders, the mallet seemed wooden—how could it stop a mad horse?
Everyone thought the emperor had lost his mind, forgetting etiquette, shouting: “Your Majesty! Pull the princess onto the horse!”
Fu Xun seemed unfazed. At the precise moment the horse lunged, he struck with the mallet, forcing the frenzied horse’s head aside.
Both horses reared up, terrified, neighing loudly. The frenzied horse’s front hooves left the ground. Taking advantage of the moment, Fu Xun gripped the reins with one hand and wielded the mallet with the other, striking the horse’s head once more.
With another thunderous crash, the horse fell, blood gushing from its mouth and nostrils.
Seeing the scene, Han Min was shaken as well. He steadied himself and instructed the attendants Fu Xun had brought: “Go fetch the imperial physicians from the Grand Imperial Hospital, and the prefect of Yong’an, and have him bring the coroner as well.”
Looking around, he said to Wen Yan and Chu Yu, “Something about this seems suspicious. You two are reliable—send people to guard every exit. No one is allowed to leave. Record everyone present today. Not a single person can be missed.”
Finally, he told the Duke of Yue, “Please keep order here. I’ll go take a look.”
With that, Han Min leapt down from the high platform. No one could stop him.
Liu Yu, the closest by, stepped forward. “Your Majesty?”
Fu Xun switched the mallet to his other hand and glanced down at the palm of his hand, which had split from the impact. The outer wood of the mallet had cracked, revealing the metal inside.
He said simply, “It’s fine. Go check on Princess Rongning.”
Seeing that the frenzied horse had been subdued, Princess Rongning finally breathed a sigh of relief. Yet her body ached so much she could not even sit up.
Liu Yu didn’t dare help her directly. He dismounted and stayed by her side, using a handkerchief to wipe the cold sweat from her face.
“Princess, it’s alright now.”
As the attendants and others arrived, they surrounded Fu Xun and Princess Rongning.
Fu Xun dismounted and tossed the mallet to Li Shu. Li Shu caught it and instructed that all the horses be led away.
“Take note of which horses they are. Do not feed them or give them water. Wait for the inspection.”
“Yes, sir.”
Just as the attendants were about to lead the horses away, one noticed something odd. He knelt abruptly. “Your Majesty, the horse you rode seems to have the scent of silver-bead grass in its tack.”
Fu Xun waved them off, stopping those who wanted to bandage his hand. “This grass… what about it?”
“It clashes with the Chiwei flower. When the two meet, the horse goes mad.”
Fu Xun’s expression darkened. “Investigate. Thoroughly.”
“Yes, sir.”
The polo field was quite large. The incident had occurred far from the central platform. Han Min ran all the way over, but he could not get there quickly. By the time he arrived, Fu Xun was already surrounded by others.
He had no choice but to stand at the edge, tiptoeing to see inside.
Fu Xun saw him coming and waved the crowd aside. “Why did you come over? Weren’t you supposed to wait there? How chaotic is it down there?”
Han Min patted his chest, out of breath from running, unable to speak.
After a moment, just as he opened his mouth: “How could you use a wooden mallet to—”
Fu Xun raised his right hand, showing him his split palm.
The injury was in the softest, most vulnerable part of his hand—it looked terrifying. Blood had already flowed freely, bright red, trailing down his elbow.
He pouted a little, feeling wronged. “See? Even I’m hurt.”
Han Min grasped his hand, nervously wiping it with his sleeve. “Why not let someone else do it? I sent them to fetch the imperial physician—I don’t even know if they’ve arrived yet.”
His eyes reddened from worry, and he sniffled. Fu Xun hadn’t even cried from the pain yet, but Han Min was already in tears. “Why is it bleeding more the more I wipe? It won’t stop. Does it hurt?”
Author’s note:
Old Fu: My wife cried for me—everyone present knows he’s my wife now.
This was not a scheme by Old Fu; he just knew about the situation and had prepared in advance.
