Chapter 97 A four-year-old child becomes a fifth-rank official.

Fan Zhongyan, "out of step with the times," remembered something.

His reinstatement came as an abrupt surprise, the reason being a casual remark made by His Highness Prince Cheng, the future Crown Prince. At the time, he wondered why his essay, which expressed his sentiments freely and was no different from other works given to friends, had attracted the attention of the Crown Prince and garnered an imperial decree.

At that time, he thought that it was his disciple, whom he had never met, who had pulled the strings, or that it was by chance that His Highness Prince Cheng had seen "The Yueyang Tower". He even lamented that he had benefited from his disciple's influence.

But if we look at it from another angle... isn't His Highness Prince Cheng his disciple?

All the confusion that had shrouded Fan Zhongyan's mind was dispelled by this conjecture. Zhao Xiaolang was four years old this year, and the young man in the palace surnamed Zhao was also four years old. Moreover, he was the only person besides the Emperor who could possibly command the Imperial City Guard.

He suddenly had a flash of inspiration and asked, "You...you asked us, father and son, to keep this a secret just for this?"

A glint flashed in Fusu's large, dark eyes. He knew from this simple change in address that Fan Zhongyan had definitely understood.

He smiled and nodded slightly: "Lord Yan, Lord Fu, Lord Ouyang, they all know. What would be the point of me keeping it from you? You'll find out sooner or later anyway."

"..."

Fan Zhongyan fell silent. The aftermath of the truth was too great; he truly didn't know what to say.

Fan Chunren was the only one out of it. He looked at Fusu, then at Fusu again, wondering why these two, meeting for the first time, were addressing each other with such formality. And what, then, was this "matter" they were talking about?

Fan Zhongyan sighed, patted his eldest son on the shoulder, and bluntly said, "Chunren, you are lucky to have a prince as your junior brother."

Fan Chunren: "...Huh?!"

He stood there stunned for a long time, so long that Fusu couldn't help but laugh as he looked at his shocked expression of being speechless. After regaining his senses, he quickly composed himself and his first words were: "I will keep it a secret for you, Junior Brother... Your Highness Prince Cheng."

"If you're not willing, I won't even mention Zigu, Guanlan, or Su Xiaolang... Wait, no, didn't Su Xiaolang already know all along?"

Fusu couldn't help but chuckle. He hadn't expected that after being exposed several times, the most amusing reaction would come from his senior brother.

After laughing, he comforted the slightly disappointed Fan Chunren: "He did know earlier. But it wasn't me who told him; he stumbled upon it by chance."

"when?"

"Hmm, when the Emperor came to the Imperial Academy to inspect it."

Fan Chunren spent more time with Fusu and murmured to himself, "No wonder, no wonder you dared to guarantee the Chancellor that the Emperor would definitely come to the Imperial Academy."

So they came to see their son.

But Fu Su quickly realized something, his face tightened, and he looked somewhat nervous: "Senior brother, the matter of the Three Yuan was not what I wanted. I was not aware of it beforehand."

"As for those special treatments, they were just a way for the officials to trick me..." he said helplessly.

After Fusu's identity was exposed, his biggest worries were twofold: first, that he would be forced into a estrangement; and second, that Fusu would rely on his status to seek fame and fortune. Fan Chunren was fourth in the first class of this imperial examination, while he himself had ranked ahead of him. He was genuinely afraid that Fan Chunren would have some ulterior motives.

Fan Chunren touched Fusu's chubby little face: "What nonsense are you talking about? That position should be yours."

He smiled and looked up: "Scholars in the capital are all reading 'The Collection of Snowflakes,' and the common people are all praising it and scrambling to claim cotton. Who still remembers that it was published less than two months ago?"

"Who in the court could pull off such a feat?"

Fan Zhongyan nodded in complete agreement: "And the idea of ​​smuggling cotton to the north is something even I couldn't have come up with."

After acknowledging the possibility of this plan, he cautiously added, "But... before benefiting the northerners, could we first ensure that the soldiers and civilians on the frontier have cotton-padded clothes to wear?"

“Of course,” Fusu said.

Although the Sixteen Prefectures to the north were also Han Chinese in a broad sense, good things should naturally be given to one's own people first. Fusu certainly understood this principle.

He counted on his fingers: "This year, we're promoting it near Bianjing (Kaifeng). Next year, we'll plant the seeds all over the country, and we won't have to worry about the soldiers and civilians on the border not having cotton-padded clothes to wear."

“It won’t be until the year after next that Apu and the others will set off north.” Fusu paused for a moment, “By then, the first batch of fine horses from the Northwest raised on the newly opened pastures in Guangyuan Prefecture will have grown up.”

As he spoke, Fan Zhongyan's breathing became lighter.

He didn't ask where the pasture and the fine horse came from: "So, Your Highness, you want to..."

"Master, have you forgotten what I wrote in the imperial examination?"

Fan Zhongyan let out a long sigh and smiled wryly: "It is the strategy of pacifying the barbarians."

"I just never imagined I'd see it in my lifetime..."

He kept the last few words to himself. Everyone understands the principle that "things are accomplished in secrecy," which is why one should not constantly talk about matters concerning the fate of the nation, giving people the illusion that a great undertaking has already been accomplished.

Fan Zhongyan said with utmost sincerity, "I only wish for favorable weather and abundant harvests next year and the year after."

Fusu nodded repeatedly: "Yes, yes."

There's no way around it; agricultural countries are dependent on the weather. Sufficient grain reserves are essential to sustain large-scale wars. If the Song Dynasty were to suffer a natural disaster in any year, the plan to recover the Sixteen Prefectures of Youyun would have to be postponed by years.

The tone for the future national policy of the Song Dynasty was set in a casual conversation between the old man and the young man. Fan Chunren, listening from the side, was sweating profusely. This didn't seem like something a newly appointed scholar like him, who hadn't even passed the imperial examinations, should be listening to. Was it really alright?

"By the way, now that you've arrived in Bianjing, when will you attend court?"

"tomorrow."

Fusu was quite surprised: "You've just returned to Bianjing, aren't you going to rest for a few more days?"

Fan Zhongyan laughed heartily: "After hearing your words, I am deeply moved. How could I not seize the day?"

"Then I'll go and show my face tomorrow."

The master and apprentice, who had hit it off immediately upon meeting, exchanged a glance. The same group of people—the ones who had banished Fan Zhongyan from Bianjing the previous year and those relentlessly impeaching Fusu in the court—were behind it all.

How will they react when two thorns in their side appear at the same time?

-

When Fu Bi woke up this morning, his eyelids kept twitching, and he had a feeling of unease.

Even as he approached the Zichen Palace, his sensations did not subside; instead, they grew stronger. Fu Bi forcibly suppressed the strange feeling in his heart and stepped onto the steps, when his right thigh brushed against something soft.

"Ouch!"

The thing could even make a sound, covering its hair bun, and complained softly, "Rich gentleman, why don't you watch where you're going? You bumped into me!"

Fu Bi was startled. He quickly lowered his voice and looked around: "Your Highness Prince Cheng! What are you doing here? Isn't it not yet time for the Jinshi to return to court?"

Fusu blinked innocently: "But I was appointed to an official position earlier than them."

"Yan Guo, that's where you're wrong."

A familiar yet unfamiliar voice rang in Fu Bi's ears: "It's a good thing that the three scholars are actively fulfilling their duties and attending court. Why are you discouraging their enthusiasm? Is this how you act as a headmaster? I, their master, can't stand by and watch."

"Master of the Palace Examination" was an alternative title for the chief examiner. Candidates often addressed him as their "benefactor," to acknowledge his mentorship and to facilitate networking in official circles. However, the situation was different with Fusu. He called Fubi "benefactor," a title Fubi dared not accept.

Fu Bi thought to himself: Who is this so familiar, daring to call himself His Highness Prince Cheng's teacher? But his mind recognized the newcomer first.

"Lord Fan! You...you're back."

A single sentence can contain a thousand words.

Once upon a time, Fu Bi thought he too would be transferred from the central government after the Song-Xia peace talks, and that his colleagues Ouyang Xiu, Han Qi, and others would follow in their footsteps. None of them imagined that one day, they would all sit together in high positions at the imperial court.

After much thought, it seems that all of this is closely related to a person's name?

Fu Su, who was being stared at by Fu Bi with a complicated look, visibly pursed his lips: "We are all here to attend court, why does Minister Fu treat us differently?"

Fu Bi: "You..."

He considered asking Fusu what he was there for at court. But then he reconsidered and decided against it. First, Fan Zhongyan clearly knew the truth, yet he hadn't said anything. More importantly, didn't the entire Song Dynasty belong to this father and son? Let them make a scene!

Fu Bi, with a Buddhist-like demeanor, led Fu Su, who was attending court for the first time and finding everything fascinating, into the Zichen Hall. Upon reaching the hall's entrance, Fu Su deliberately separated from them—he was now a fifth-rank official, barely qualifying to enter the Zichen Hall, and not on the same level as the two ministers, so they couldn't stand together.

He found a corner by a pillar, and because of his small stature and the fact that he was positioned at the back, very few people noticed his presence. Only those of similar rank around him stared wide-eyed, their expressions showing disbelief.

Fusu raised his soft little hand and greeted his colleagues who were looking at him.

Before long, the sound of the emperor attending court could be heard from ahead, followed by all the officials bowing in unison. The voice sounded extremely imposing, but Fusu's height prevented him from seeing his father's full appearance. Tilting his head and standing on tiptoe were to no avail; all he could see were layers of swaying black turbans.

For a fleeting moment, Fusu understood the treacherous officials in history who would stop at nothing to climb the social ladder.

But he quickly ran out of time to empathize.

A familiar voice drifted from afar: "Ministers, if you have something to report, please do so; otherwise, the court may adjourn."

Fusu immediately raised his hand. His childish yet penetrating voice filled the entire court: "Your subject has something to report!"

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Author's Note: [Dog head carrying a rose][Dog head carrying a rose][Dog head carrying a rose]