Chapter 71: In the Songzhu Hall
After dinner, the three elders sat side by side in the courtyard, enjoying the evening breeze.
Eunuch Yang glanced around and asked, “Where’s Old Liang? Why hasn’t he come?”
Grandpa Han stroked his beard. “Minmin said he went to play polo today. The Emperor and Princess Song both got a little hurt, so he must have gone to check on them again.”
Old Scholar Liu chuckled. “He’s diligent, isn’t he? Even in old age, he doesn’t rest.”
The three of them laughed together, retired eunuch, historian, and scholar freely mocking the active imperial physician.
After a while, Eunuch Yang pointed toward the corridor not far off, where Han Shi and Han Min were.
“These two kids are exactly the same as when they were little—big brother taking care of the younger one.”
He pulled a small booklet of idioms from his sleeve and flipped through it. “Ah, this one is called ‘Fraternal Respect and Harmony.’”
Grandpa Han watched and smiled in satisfaction. “Just like when they were little.”
Little did they know, Han Min, sitting on the railing with his back to them, was so frustrated he was almost in tears.
Han Shi and he each held an Emei dagger.
Following the diagram, Han Shi was teaching Han Min martial arts.
But Han Min’s hands were far too clumsy. Just like when he held a pen, the moment he gripped the daggers, he couldn’t control his own movements, almost stabbing his own legs several times.
Every time he timidly suggested giving up, Han Shi would lift his head, glance at him coldly, and say, “You’re always like this. Later, when you’re alone outside, what will you do if someone bullies you?”
Han Min whimpered, “Who would bully me?”
“Someone will, so hurry and learn.”
Hearing this from his elder brother, Han Min reluctantly raised his hands again.
Han Shi continued, “Learn half today, the rest tomorrow.”
Thus, the Han-style Emei dagger two-day crash course began.
Han Min blinked: “Brother, are you asleep? Why are you talking in your sleep?”
“Don’t joke, just learn.”
Han Min frowned, squeezed his eyes shut, then glanced back. The lantern light under the eaves illuminated his eyes, glistening with tears.
Eunuch Yang, seeing him like this, immediately sat up from his lounge chair: “Min Min, what’s wrong?”
The other two elders also looked over, but Han Min didn’t answer, instead glancing secretly at his brother.
Eunuch Yang understood and waved to him: “Come here, little one. Did your brother bully you?”
Han Min happily returned the Emei dagger to his brother, puffing up with pride: “Brother, I’m coming over.”
He entered the room, carried a small stool, and even brought his large white cat to sit beside Eunuch Yang.
Han Shi wheeled over in his chair. Grandpa Han asked, “What did you make your brother do? Did it upset him?”
“Teaching him martial arts. He didn’t want to.”
“Don’t worry about it if he doesn’t want to.”
“When he goes out in the future…”
“There isn’t that much danger. Even if there is, there’s Wei Gui and the others. Their skills are good; your brother can just hide behind them.”
“Exactly,” said Eunuch Yang. “Besides, isn’t the Emperor here? His skills are excellent too.”
Han Shi’s throat tightened. Don’t mention the Emperor—he’s the one we’re supposed to guard against.
Han Min pouted. “Grandpa’s biased. Brother made me learn half today and half tomorrow. Is that normal?”
Eunuch Yang patted his head and stuffed a plate full of shelled walnuts into his arms: “Don’t be mad. Here, eat.”
Han Min held the plate, and his cat reached out to grab some, but he stopped it: “Tongzi, not yet. When you grow up, then you can eat.”
Old Scholar Liu laughed loudly. “How can it grow up?” He glanced at the cat resting on Han Min’s lap. “Did you make it too skinny again?”
Han Min held the trembling system and said, “I wouldn’t dare.”
—
The elders, who went to bed early, dispersed after chatting a little.
Old Scholar Liu returned to his mansion, while Eunuch Yang had moved into the Han residence a few days earlier.
After seeing Grandpa Han and Eunuch Yang back to their rooms, Han Min glanced at his brother, said, “Good dreams, brother,” and bolted, afraid he would make him practice martial arts again.
Although Fu Xun’s long sword was nearby, Han Min was still used to staying up late.
He leaned over his desk, writing drafts, while the system ran for weight loss.
Han Min said, “Maybe you should stop running. The teacher would be sad to see you like this.”
System: “Do you want to raise a little pig?”
Han Min paused: “Better to keep running.”
There was only a small section left to finish the draft. Han Min continued writing today, recording the Emperor and the Chancellor, yet feeling uneasy inside.
He thought perhaps it was because Jiang Huan was usually too cold, a typical aloof “cool guy,” so he was a little afraid of him and hesitant to write his story.
Taking a deep breath, he settled his mind. One book done—only two more to go.
Once he mustered the energy to finish the last two volumes, he would “wash his hands of it,” and Senior Brother Jiang definitely wouldn’t find out.
Fu Xun probably wouldn’t either.
—
The next morning, Han Min brought the completed manuscript to Baishi Bookstore.
Mr. Ge took the chance to glance at it. “I’ve been waiting to read this myself.”
Han Min leaned close and whispered, “Sir, as for Zhuoshi and the others’ Imperial Record Officer, it hasn’t started selling yet, right?”
Mr. Ge looked around. “Didn’t you tell me to hold it back and publish it together with yours? Zhuoshi delivered his manuscript ages ago and urged me several times. I blocked him for you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ge.”
“So now we can release them together?”
Han Min gave a sly smile. “Yes.”
“All right. It should be out in a few days. Go home and hurry with the next volume.”
—
Everyone had their own things to handle these days, and Han Min was preparing for his coming-of-age hair-tying ceremony, writing stories whenever he had spare time.
Soon, the day before his ceremony arrived.
That evening, he was curled up in his room writing when he suddenly heard voices outside.
The system lying beside him perked up, ears twitching.
Han Min put down his brush and stood up to go out.
He vaguely heard Han Li say, “Lord Chu came to see Brother Min? It’s almost dinnertime—are you going out together?”
Han Min pushed open the door and saw Chu Yu outside.
Chu Yu glanced at him, then nodded to Han Li. “Yes. I’m here to take him out to have some fun.” He looked at Han Min again. “Go change your clothes.”
Han Li added, “May I ask where you’re going?”
Chu Yu’s eyes held no smile. “To the Songzhu Pavilion to listen to music. You’re preparing for the exams—it’s not good for you to indulge in such things or you’ll be led astray. It’s only because Han Min becomes an adult tomorrow that I’m taking him out.”
Han Li looked a little embarrassed. Before he could respond, Chu Yu pushed Han Min back into the room and shut the door behind him.
Han Min froze for a moment, then asked, “Where did you say you’re taking me?”
“Songzhu Pavilion. Change your clothes. Bianzhang and the others are waiting outside.”
“Why are we going to Songzhu Pavilion?”
“They said they want to broaden your horizons so you won’t get tricked in the future.”
“What nonsense is that?”
Chu Yu nudged him forward. “Change your clothes.”
Unable to argue with him, Han Min changed into a satin robe with subtle dark patterns.
Since everyone in the Han household knew them well, Chu Yu greeted them briefly and took Han Min away.
Two carriages waited outside. Wen Yan, Xie Yan, and Liu Ting were already there.
Chu Yu tugged Han Min forward. “I’ve brought him. Let’s go.”
Han Min shared a carriage with Chu Yu and Wen Yan.
After thinking for a moment, he said, “Why are we going to Songzhu Pavilion for no reason?”
Chu Yu said, “Didn’t I just explain?”
Han Min looked at Wen Yan. “Bianzhang?”
Wen Yan nodded seriously. “I also think it’s necessary. You’ll be very busy tomorrow and won’t be able to go out, so today’s the right time.”
Han Min reached out to feel his forehead. “You’re not Wen Bianzhang. You’re fake.”
Wen Yan brushed his hand away. “I’m serious. Your senior brother agrees.”
He had always thought that during their time in Tongzhou, Fu Xun ignored Han Min completely.
So the scale in his heart tipped sharply toward Han Min.
—
Yiru Street was much quieter than before. In the past, Chu Yu had overseen reformation labor there and knew all the young men at Songzhu Pavilion.
Seeing Chu Yu bring people, they immediately came forward and escorted them toward a private room.
“Lord Chu rarely visits—what would you like to eat?”
“Is there new work again? Will there be good rewards this time?”
Chu Yu smiled and pulled Han Min forward. “I brought a friend to listen to music. Let him choose.”
Having never seen this kind of scene before, Han Min kept hiding behind him. “No, no, no.”
Chu Yu grabbed his hand. “Songzhu Pavilion has been fully reformed. Now it’s just music. What are you afraid of? Come on, pick one.”
Han Min wanted nothing more than to run away, but since Chu Yu held him firmly, he closed his eyes and pointed randomly.
A white-robed musician stepped forward, smiling gently. “It seems fate has brought us together.”
Han Min opened his eyes, puzzled. The musician continued, “We’ve met before. That day, you came out of Tianxiang House across the street. I was upstairs playing my instrument.”
Only then did Han Min remember—on the day he bought the old house at Tianxiang House, he and Fu Xun had exited the building, and when he climbed into the carriage, he’d stared curiously several times, irritating Fu Xun.
“That’s true…”
Before he finished, he felt all his friends staring at him.
Little troublemaker—you even went to Tianxiang House?
Han Min waved quickly to cover it up. “All right, all right, weren’t we here to listen to music? Let’s go.” He smiled at the musician. “Lead the way.”
As his friends passed by, each one lightly rapped him on the head.
Han Min rubbed his head and followed them pitifully.
—
The room was spacious. The white-robed musician set up his instrument, tucked his robes, and sat down, raising his eyes toward them.
Since they brought Han Min here today, they made him sit in the center.
Han Min grinned. “Play whatever you like.”
The musician answered softly and touched the strings.
By the time he finished the piece, Han Min had eaten several plates of pastries.
Seeing that he didn’t seem very engaged, Chu Yu stood. “I’ll call two more performers to show you.”
Liu Ting had someone bring ten small wine jars and sat beside Han Min. “Here, let your senior teach you. At banquets, you shouldn’t drink these kinds…”
Wen Yan also sat beside him, opening a jar and holding it up. “It’s always safer to be careful. Smell it—don’t drink.”
Han Min sniffed it and scrunched his face at the sharp scent.
He turned to Xie Yan, who seemed ready to speak up for him, but at that moment Chu Yu returned.
He didn’t dare make another sound.
Behind Chu Yu stood two young gentlemen, each carrying a pipa and a yueqin.
“You’re back. We’ve got the cool one, the gentle one, and the wild one—Han Min, come look.”
Han Min lifted his head and asked quietly, “Why do I need to look at other people?”
Chu Yu sat down next to him. “Honestly, I think it’s unnecessary too, but Bianzhang and Xizhou insisted. I can’t help it. Just take a look.”
“No, I mean—you don’t need to look at them. Just looking at you guys is enough.”
Han Min pointed at Wen Yan. “The cool one.”
Then at Liu Ting. “The gentle one.” Then at Chu Yu. “The flirtatious one.”
Finally, he turned to Xie Yan. “The unrestrained one.”
All four of them stared at him. Han Min felt nervous under their gazes. “What? I’m always surrounded by a sea of blossoms, adored by all of you. Don’t you feel that yourselves? Are you worried I’ll be fooled? Ridiculous—having you all is more than enough. After knowing a group of transcendently talented scholars like you, ordinary people don’t even catch my eye anymore.”
Wen Yan gave a cold laugh. “Your ambitions are quite large.”
Han Min clenched his palm, gaze firm. “You four—I want all of you. Don’t rush, I’ll officially come of age tomorrow. How about it? Want me to pick one of you right now?”
Chu Yu said, “Are you drunk? Who let him drink? How did you get him drunk so fast?”
Wen Yan pinched Han Min’s cheek. “Looks like we don’t need to teach him anything after all. All our worrying was useless—he’s plenty crafty on his own.”
Liu Ting said, “It’s fine if he’s drunk. If he’s drunk, he won’t remember who hit him.”
—
It had just been a joke, but after Han Min stirred things up like that, they all stopped talking about ‘teaching’ him. They left only the white-robed gentleman who was playing the qin, and each went back to what they were doing.
Han Min ate some pastries, pressed his lips together, and wanted to find someone to chat with. Everywhere he went, he was chased back.
He tugged on Wen Yan’s sleeve. “Bianzhang?”
Wen Yan turned his head away. “I don’t dare talk to you anymore. Turns out you see us as butterflies and blossoms.”
Han Min said, “How would I dare? Someone like you is at least a snow lotus blooming on a high mountain, or a golden-winged roc. Just talk to me a bit, it’s so boring.”
Wen Yan gave him a cool glance but didn’t speak.
Just then, the white-robed gentleman finished a song. Since none of his friends paid him any attention, Han Min went to him instead.
“I haven’t learned to play the qin before. I boldly ask for your guidance, sir.”
The man smiled. “You’re too polite, young master.”
He plucked each string one by one, explaining very carefully, and Han Min tried plucking as well.
Across the room, the four exchanged a look.
Surrounded by blossoms, beloved by all—Han Min wasn’t exaggerating. He could talk to anyone.
After a long while, under the man’s guidance, Han Min finally managed to clumsily play half a tune.
Then someone knocked at the door. “Young Master Yun, the Flower Apothecary.”
Han Min turned. “Young Master Yun, can you stay with us for another hour?”
“Sorry, the guests over there reserved me first.”
“Oh… all right. Sorry to bother you.”
Han Min pursed his lips, reluctant to part with the white-robed gentleman.
The man smiled warmly. “Next time you come, I’ll teach you the second half of the tune.”
“Okay.”
He stood up to leave, but suddenly thought of something. “I’d like to change my clothes—may I trouble you to carry this qin to the Flower Apothecary for me?”
Han Min nodded. “Sure.”
Young Master Yun smiled again. “Thank you. Once you’re out the door, turn left. It’s the room at the end.”
“Got it.”
After greeting his friends, Han Min left with the qin.
He turned left, walked to the end, and knocked. Someone responded from inside, so he pushed the door open.
Soft plain curtains, typical of Songzhu Pavilion, hung inside. Han Min stepped in with the qin. Before he could speak, he suddenly felt the person sitting inside looked familiar.
When he narrowed his eyes to look more closely, the person inside also saw him. With a quick motion, that person flipped the tea cup over, slamming it upside down on the table.
Furious, his tone was sharp. “What are you doing here?”
Han Min stormed forward, lifted the curtain, and snapped, “I should be asking why Your Majesty is here!”
Behind the curtain, Fu Xun sat properly. The overturned tea cup lay beside him, tea spilled all over the table and dripping onto the floor.
Han Min glanced at him and let out a short snort, turning his face away.
“When I looked at Young Master Yun earlier, I wondered why His Majesty looked so angry. Turns out I was blind and accidentally offended someone who belongs to the emperor.”
Actually, Fu Xun wasn’t alone—Duke of Xin Li Shu, Duke of Yue, and Fifth Prince Fu Rang were all present.
Seeing his elder brother’s terrible expression, Fu Rang hurriedly came forward and tugged on Han Min.
Before he could speak, Fu Xun said, “It’s not what you think. He’s an undercover agent placed here by Songzhu Pavilion. Recently, Zhao Cun has been meeting Song spies here, so the princes and I are using this place to strategize.”
Han Min froze, completely shocked that the man who just taught him qin was one of Fu Xun’s planted agents.
He was about to apologize when Young Master Yun returned.
He took the qin from Han Min. “Thank you for the trouble.”
Han Min laughed awkwardly. “No problem.”
Fu Xun, still angry, picked up the overturned tea cup and slammed it on the table again.
“Come here. What are you doing here?”
His reason wasn’t very proper, so Han Min didn’t dare raise his voice. “Listening to music.”
“By yourself?”
“Well, not exactly. Zhuoshi and Bianzhang were here too.”
Their discussion was abandoned. Fu Xun suddenly stood up, grabbed Han Min’s hand, and strode out with him.
Inside the room, Young Master Yun stayed where he was. Duke of Yue sighed helplessly. “Why did you have to provoke those two?”
He replied, “I was a perfectly respectable Young Master Yun, and just because Young Master Han looked at me twice and liked me, I got assigned the codename ‘Cotton.’ If it were you, would you be pleased?”
He added, “His Majesty usually dominates court affairs. This time he should thank me for pushing Young Master Han toward him. Wasn’t Young Master Han just angry earlier? But for some reason, he just can’t bring himself to truly scold him.”
Fu Rang looked completely confused. “Uncle, what are you talking about?”
Duke of Yue affectionately patted his head. “You’ve always been slow to understand things. No rush.”
—
Fu Xun dragged Han Min forward, striding furiously; the young gentlemen carrying instruments all stepped aside to avoid them.
Fu Xun asked, “How many times have you been here?”
“Just the first time.”
“Besides Wen Yan and Chu Yu, who else?”
“There’s Senior Brother Liu, and Xie Yan.”
“Besides the one who plays cotton-plucking—who else?”
“There was one pipa player and one yueqin player, but they didn’t stay long before leaving.”
“Which room?”
Han Min stopped walking and tugged him back forcefully. “I haven’t asked you yet—how many times have you come?”
Fu Xun stopped and turned around. “The first time.”
“Besides the three princes, who else?”
“No one.”
“Young Master Yun is an undercover agent—he must send messages regularly…”
“With falcons.”
“I knew it. With that many falcons, they couldn’t be only for me.”
“They fly to the falconry tower. The men below send messages up.”
Han Min considered it. That made sense—otherwise the area outside Funing Hall would be swarming with falcons.
Fu Xun gritted his teeth. “Only your little carrot-head dares fly straight into Funing Hall and step on my memorials.”
Han Min scratched his cheek. “That was this humble minister acting in haste, a misunderstanding. I beg Your Majesty’s pardon. Please forgive me.”
Fu Xun stared at him for a moment, then grunted and ruffled his hair.
He escorted Han Min back to the room where Chu Yu and the others were. They were all startled, standing and bowing, not daring to lift their heads.
Fu Xun swept his gaze across them, then picked Han Min up and set him inside. “Wait here. I’ll come get you later.”
He added to the others, “Watch him. And don’t call any more qin players in.”
Once the door closed and Fu Xun left, Han Min rushed immediately to the window to open it and escape, only to be seized by several people.
“Han Min, this is the second floor.”
“This was my very first time here and I got caught—and I even talked to him like that! I’m mortified—let me down!”
In the end, Han Min was pressed back into his seat.
He grumpily ruffled his hair.
He really shouldn’t have barged in and questioned Fu Xun like that. After Fu Xun explained everything, the whole situation wouldn’t have been so embarrassing.
His tolerance for anything related to Fu Xun seemed to be getting lower.
Before long, food was delivered. They all knew who had ordered it. Han Min had no appetite.
This is bad, Han Min.
You’re starting to be swayed by everything to do with Fu Xun.
—
As dusk deepened, Fu Xun arrived.
He looked at Han Min. “You’re coming of age tomorrow. Don’t play outside anymore. I’ll send you back early.”
Han Min lifted his eyes at him. Before he could speak, Fu Xun stepped closer. “What’s wrong?”
Han Min snapped out of it, scratching his hair. “Nothing. Let’s go.”
After saying goodbye to his friends, he followed Fu Xun out of Songzhu Pavilion.
The carriage waited outside. They boarded together, still in silence.
As the carriage moved slowly, Han Min leaned against the window, staring out blankly. Fu Xun sat beside him, lifted the curtain, and followed his gaze.
It was late June. Autumn began in the seventh month. The weather had grown cold and damp, and in Yong’an City there was a custom of floating water lanterns for blessings.
Han Min was staring, lost in thought, at a nearby stall selling water lanterns. The vendor saw it and said to Fu Xun with a smile, “Buy one for him—this young master looks completely enchanted.”
Fu Xun immediately stopped the carriage, stepped down, and picked out two water lanterns.
By the time Han Min realized what was happening, Fu Xun had already ordered the carriage out of the city toward Yuanyang Lake.
Fu Xun placed the two lotus-shaped lanterns at Han Min’s side.
They had played with these when they were young, usually with a bunch of friends.
Back in Yong’an they’d done it every year. Han Min no longer remembered how many wishes he’d made.
At the lakeside—still late June—there were few people, and only a handful of faint lanterns drifted across the water.
Han Min hopped down with the two lanterns, handed one to Fu Xun, then pulled two brushes and an ink box from his pen case.
A lotus lantern had five petals. Han Min dipped the brush in ink and wrote on each one.
Fu Xun quietly stepped behind him; by lowering his head, he could see what Han Min was writing.
First wish: Peace and prosperity for the nation.
Second wish: Great Qi flourishing in culture.
Third wish: the emperor in good health.
The remaining two petals were for his family and friends.
Only after writing the last word did Han Min realize Fu Xun was behind him. He quickly pulled the lantern away. “Who does that?”
Fu Xun frowned slightly, looking displeased, and handed him his own lantern.
Han Min accepted it, dipped the brush again, and asked, “What does Your Majesty want written?”
“You write something.”
Han Min blinked. “Hm?”
Fu Xun emphasized deliberately, “You forgot to include yourself on yours. Write one for yourself. I remember—your first wish as a child was to become the greatest scholar in the world. Write that.”
Han Min shook his head. “Your Majesty remembers wrong. My first wish was—”
He gave Fu Xun a “shy smile.” “—to hold Fu Dog down and beat him up.”
—
Author’s Note:
The truth behind Songzhu Pavilion—
Cotton: Your Majesty! Young Master Han is picking men at Songzhu Pavilion!
Old Fu: Let me see! …He’s got some nerve!
Min Min: I want to pin Fu Dog down (and beat him).
