Chapter 84: A Little Disdain
For the Song, the Duke of Guangning, Zhao Cun, was nothing more than a disposable pawn.
If he could marry Princess Rongning to the new ruler of Qi, that would be his greatest use.
If he couldn’t, at least if he could irritate Qi, he would still serve some purpose.
Fu Xun naturally understood what the ruler of Song intended. He staged a ruse with Duke of Xin, pretending to attempt to seize fifteen key towns in northwest Song, intending to turn the tables on Song.
Unexpectedly, Zhao Cun was restless. After taking the bait, he chose to act with a “borrowed knife to kill” scheme.
The incident involved Han Min and harmed him so severely that Fu Xun could not tolerate it.
Even if the two countries were at war, one would not execute an envoy. The two countries still maintained superficial peace, so if Fu Xun were to deal with the Song envoy, it would hardly be justifiable.
Moreover, the operation was scheduled for tonight—rushing it could lead to unforeseen complications.
Wei Gui was somewhat hesitant: “Your Majesty, please reconsider.”
Fu Xun glanced at him: “It’s fine. You just lead the troops. I have it all arranged. Song won’t dare speak.”
After repeated advice, Wei Gui feared annoying him and reluctantly obeyed, still pondering how to execute the plan.
At the court meeting on the first day of the seventh month, under the pretext of clearing hunting grounds for the autumn hunt in September, Fu Xun handed over the military token of the Xuanhu Army from Li Shu into Wei Gui’s hands.
The Xuanhu Army was now stationed outside Yong’an City; he was to lead them—the very same troops.
At the same time, the palace’s eagle post received news. Two hawks shot out of the palace walls like arrows—one headed for the relay station, the other for the Duke of Xin’s residence.
—
Tonight, Zhao Cun was to be dealt with. Princess Rongning, Zhao Yin, was the first to object.
If it were merely Zhao Cun’s life, she could have secretly orchestrated it herself.
But Zhao Cun had harmed her under the orders of the Song ruler. She could not feel content dealing only with Zhao Cun without exacting a piece of vengeance on the Song emperor himself.
It was already evening. Candles lit the room. Zhao Yin took the note delivered by the hawk, held it close to the flame, and watched it turn to ash.
She collected the ashes and buried them in a flower pot, thinking about what to do next.
Having met him a few times, she knew well that Qi’s ruler was patient and meticulous, waiting for the perfect strike.
The fact that this plan had been expedited today meant Zhao Cun had overstepped some boundary.
If only she knew what he had done.
Zhao Cun, indeed, had hastened his own death. He was quite talented at seeking trouble.
Zhao Yin washed her hands, still worried, when she suddenly remembered someone—Han Min.
Whether Fu Xun’s plans were motivated by something related to Han Min or not, to persuade Fu Xun, there was no one better than Han Min.
The decision had been rushed. Han Min probably didn’t know yet—or perhaps Fu Xun hadn’t even told him.
Zhao Yin smiled faintly, picked up her cloak, fastened it, and prepared to leave.
Outside, clouds hung low, wind and rain brewing.
—
Princess Rongning’s confidante drove a modest carriage through the alley where the Han residence was located. Zhao Yin lifted the carriage curtain.
It was her first time visiting the Han household. She had assumed that since Fu Xun liked Han Min so much, he would have built him a lavish golden house. But the Han residence was in such a remote location.
Soon, she noticed guards at the alley looking this way, likely arranged by Fu Xun.
The carriage stopped in front of the Han residence. The door was opened by a palace servant, flanked by two guards.
Although secluded, the residence was well-defended.
Zhao Yin did not act rashly. She stated that she was a maid of Princess Rongning from Song, requesting to deliver a message and waiting outside.
Soon, a servant came to open the door: “Lord Han requests your presence.”
“Thank you.”
Zhao Yin followed in and entered the Han residence.
Han Min had been asleep all day. He was now awake, wrapped in a blanket, sipping shredded chicken porridge in small mouthfuls. Little Jizi was attending him, holding a handkerchief and tea.
Zhao Yin stepped inside. Thunder rumbled outside; rain was coming.
After greetings, Han Min smiled at her: “Coming at this hour—is there something important?”
She looked around. Guards and palace servants were still in the courtyard, and a small eunuch was by Han Min’s side.
Ignoring all that, she gave Little Jizi a glance. He, knowing his place, moved away with the items he was carrying.
Zhao Yin then sat beside Han Min, lowering her voice: “The Emperor is mobilizing troops. Tonight, Zhao Cun will be dealt with.”
Han Min was startled: “How… isn’t it—”
He truly did not know. Zhao Yin continued: “I only just received the message myself. Is this… appropriate?”
Han Min calmed himself and looked at her: “The Emperor has his reasons. Princess needn’t worry.”
“…This…”
Zhao Yin didn’t know what to say. Han Min clearly trusted Fu Xun more. Just now, when she suggested that Fu Xun’s actions were unwise, he became unhappy.
But she did not dwell on it. Another person had come to consult Han Min.
Duke of Xin, Li Shu.
Upon receiving the message, he had also thought it inappropriate.
He wanted to go directly to the Emperor but was still under confinement, making it inconvenient. After considering his options, he left via a side gate and came to Han Min.
Han Min asked: “Uncle also thought it unwise?”
“Yes. The previous plan was meticulous. Why insist on acting alone? Princess and I are still in hiding; it’s inconvenient to appear publicly. Besides, we cannot persuade the Emperor ourselves. It’s better to ask you to go. Even if this must be done, it need not be tonight.”
Han Min pressed his lips together: “I understand. I’ll change my clothes and go. Where is he now?”
Outside, a palace servant brought in freshly prepared medicinal soup. Little Jizi carried it in. Han Min drank it, including the dregs, and got up to change.
Thunder rumbled, and autumn rain drizzled outside.
—
Through the curtain of rain, carriages rumbled along the streets, splashing water.
Inside, thick blankets cushioned the ride, making it smooth despite the rain.
Han Min, still recovering from his illness, sat on a blanket, wearing a fox-fur cloak meant for winter, sleeves holding a hand warmer, half his face hidden behind the white fur.
Little Jizi attended him, pouring a cup of hot tea.
“Are you still cold, sir?”
“I’m fine, not cold.”
Han Min didn’t know why Fu Xun wanted to do this. He only thought: if so, the fifteen key towns Fu Xun sought would no longer be obtainable.
If he suddenly struck at the envoy, and Song yielded, nothing would happen. If Song fought desperately, they might win, but gain little.
He wasn’t sure whether Fu Xun had a plan.
Still, he decided he needed to see for himself.
Call it meddling or facing reproach—he would go.
Rain pelted the carriage roof, drumming irritably.
He opened the window to look outside. Rain shrouded the surroundings in gray. Lanterns had been lit in front of shops, flickering in the wind.
Little Jizi quickly closed the window: “Be careful not to catch cold, sir.”
Han Min turned back, suppressing a tickle in his throat: “Mm.”
Still concerned, Little Jizi asked: “Going to see the Emperor—will he take it out on you?”
“No.” Han Min covered his mouth and coughed: “He already knows I’m coming.”
“You mean—?”
“Do you think the guards at home are just for show? When Princess Rongning first came to find me, one of them slipped away to report. He should be arriving soon.”
Han Min sneezed, prompting Little Jizi to add two or three more layers of clothing.
—
As predicted, a guard in plain clothes rode hastily through the rain, finally stopping in front of a teahouse opposite the relay station.
The teahouse faced the relay station. From upstairs, one could see the entire area.
The guard removed his raincoat and hat at the door and quickly ascended.
Fu Xun was seated by the window, hands on the chair arms, tapping his right index finger intermittently.
Wei Gui stood behind him. He had acted quickly, leaving and returning with the troops, surrounding the relay station.
The guard ran forward, reporting: “Your Majesty, Lord Han has arrived.”
Fu Xun immediately rose: “In this heavy rain, what is he doing here?”
Suppressing his anger, he asked: “Where is he now?”
“Still on the road. I rode hard to catch up.”
Fu Xun’s gaze darkened as he looked at Wei Gui. Wei Gui was confused: “Your Majesty, I swear it wasn’t me…”
Flustered, he forgot even to refer to himself formally. He instructed the guard: “Quick, tell the Emperor who visited Lord Han this afternoon.”
“This afternoon, Princess Rongning’s maid and someone from Duke of Xin’s residence came. General Wei did not.”
Wei Gui breathed a sigh of relief: “See, Your Majesty, I am innocent.”
By the time he realized it, Fu Xun had already gone downstairs.
Outside the teahouse, Fu Xun grabbed his hat, placed it on his head, and stepped into the rain.
A carriage happened to approach on the main street.
He strode toward it. The carriage stopped nearby. Little Jizi jumped out, opened an umbrella, and lifted the curtain.
Han Min adjusted his cloak and stepped out. He looked up and saw Fu Xun, scowling, walking toward him.
Fu Xun reached Han Min, took the umbrella from Little Jizi, and said: “You go to Wei Gui.”
Wei Gui approached, holding an umbrella as well.
With Little Jizi gone, they stood under the same umbrella. Amid the downpour, Han Min could hear Fu Xun’s voice clearly:
“It’s almost dark, still raining. Why are you here?”
Han Min said softly: “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“They reported to you?”
“No.”
Daring to lie.
Fu Xun said flatly: “Running back and forth, if you get sick, you’ll bother others.”
“I never did such a thing.”
“Your family knows. You’ve clung to me for two days and nights…”
Han Min, annoyed, interrupted: “Can’t we talk inside? It’s cold and noisy here.”
He stomped forward in wooden clogs.
The clogs were waterproof but heavy, splashing water onto Fu Xun’s hems.
After a few steps, Han Min noticed and slowed, moving away slightly.
Fu Xun frowned: “Come closer. You’re all wet. You’ll want to cling to someone to sleep.”
Originally intending to care for him, Fu Xun was instead criticized. Han Min ground his teeth: “I haven’t. Your Majesty, watch your words.”
They squeezed under one umbrella and entered the teahouse.
Upstairs, they sat facing each other. A guard brought a bowl of thick ginger soup to Han Min.
Once everyone left, they were alone on the second floor.
Fu Xun gestured toward the soup: drink first.
“You don’t need to say, I know Li Shu and Zhao Yin have already come to you.”
“What does Your Majesty intend?”
“Dig up the polo field incident, claim Zhao Cun intended harm, and detain him tonight.”
Once detained, either he would resist and be killed, or not submit and be killed—Zhao Cun would die regardless.
Fu Xun did not intend to tell Han Min the latter part.
Han Min said: “But this was investigated by Qi. Zhao Cun wasn’t involved then. Bringing it up again invites suspicion. What if Song refuses?”
“Zhao Cun is a useless prince; Song won’t dare interfere.”
Han Min looked at him in doubt: “Then Your Majesty doesn’t want the fifteen towns in northwest Song? Weren’t they rich in water and grass? You liked them.”
“They will be mine eventually.”
“May I ask why Zhao Cun must die now?”
“Han Li confessed. The dagger and drugged cloth came from Zhao Cun’s people. If the dagger in his sleeve hadn’t dropped, you would have been stabbed.”
So that was why.
Han Min’s expression shifted slightly. He lowered his gaze, unsure what to say.
After a long silence, he whispered: “Reckless.”
A little touched, and a little disdainful.
Author’s Note:
Q: What if the Emperor suddenly becomes reckless?
Princess & Duke of Xin: Go to the Empress.
Wei Gui: Just follow the Emperor’s orders. I’m innocent anyway. Otherwise, I’d eat noodles standing on my head—and still drink soup.
