Chapter 67 The happiest person in the world.
Fusu rubbed his temples and took a deep breath: "Do you even know who Lord Fan is, and how much of an opportunity you missed?"
Su Shi nodded: "I know."
I know you still...!
At this moment, Fusu felt a thousand, ten thousand times disappointed in his son.
“But I just don’t want to.” Su Shi shook his head and said leisurely, “With Yang Jijiu teaching me, I’m more than capable, and it won’t disgrace me.”
“But you, Zhao Xiaolang,” Su Shi changed the subject, “Fan Gong is indeed the hope of all scholars in the world, but what about you? You are also an unparalleled child prodigy.”
—She is someone who puts a lot of pressure on me, and even makes me feel ashamed of myself.
Su Shi placed his hands on Fu Su's thin shoulders, his dark eyes shining brightly: "So many scholars wanted to take you as their student, but you chose Master Fan as your teacher. Master Fan might be secretly pleased."
"So, you don't need to be so grateful to him as you are now when you become his disciple."
Fusu pursed his lips: "Is it that obvious?"
Su Shi nodded: "Mhm."
Fusu rubbed his face, his heart filled with complex emotions. Could it be that outsiders truly see things more clearly? He did indeed have an extraordinary fondness for Fan Zhongyan. Not only was he born in the Song Dynasty, but he was also a devoted admirer of him—the kind who could recite the entire "Yueyang Tower Inscription" from memory. But in Su Shi's eyes, it must be strange that someone born a prince would hold a subject in such high regard.
“Alright,” Fusu said, “I’ll trust you this time. I’ll write to Master Fan later and tell him he should be secretly delighted to have accepted me as his disciple—as Su Shi said.”
"Hey!" Su Shi panicked, "Don't get me into trouble! I was just trying to encourage you!"
"Hehe." Fusu raised his eyebrows: "You don't need to encourage me, shouldn't you encourage yourself? Be careful you don't surpass me in writing policy essays."
"How could that be?" Su Shi said confidently. Leaving aside the comparison of their teachers, he had a strong family background in writing. His father, Su Xun, could write anything that was a masterpiece, praised far and wide. How could he possibly lose to Zhao Xiaolang in this regard?!
"Okay, then I'll give you a chance to surpass me. I won't be in prison tomorrow. Good luck with your studies!"
"Not in prison? Where are you going?" Su Shi asked.
Fusu said, "As I just said, I will be four years old soon."
"hold head high?"
“So of course I’m going back to the palace to celebrate my birthday.” Fusu waved the letter in his hand: “The Emperor and the Empress have both come to urge me.”
-
What kind of celebration should be held for the birthday of a first-rank prince?
Fusu indicated he did not wish to answer the question. He recalled that last year, before he and the Emperor had even formally discussed the matter, the Emperor, without authorization, announced at his birthday banquet that he had been granted the title of First-Rank Prince. Fusu's despair at that time was indescribable.
It wasn't just the news of his being the designated crown prince that bothered him; it was also the exhaustion of being treated like a monkey on display. What independent emotions could a three-year-old child possibly have in the eyes of adults? Yet, he was the future ruler of a nation, and everyone wanted to make a good impression and gain favor. For example, the Eighth Prince was someone they met at that banquet.
After the banquet, Fusu was listless for a long time.
I'm mentally exhausted.
Therefore, when Emperor Renzong brought up this matter this year, he specifically emphasized in his letter home: Do not make a fuss! Do not hold a big event! It is enough for the three of us to get together for a meal.
Therefore, the palace was quiet this year. Fusu returned to the palace under the cover of night. Walking along the long palace corridor, he looked around but saw no festive atmosphere whatsoever. He nodded in satisfaction; this was exactly how it should be!
The King's birthday banquet was held in Kunning Palace, where Fusu spent the night. Pushing open the door, everything was exactly as he had left it: the soft bed beneath layers of gauze curtains, the calming fragrance in the air… Fusu immediately collapsed onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow. "Wow, what a soft bed! It's been so long!"
Although it hadn't been long since his last return to the palace, the long and agonizing preparation for the exams in between stretched it out to an unbearable length, as if it were a lifetime ago. Fusu pondered for a while, his thoughts growing heavier and slower, until he actually fell asleep with his face pressed against the pillow.
In the quiet of the night, a pair of hands brought him an ice chest to cool him off from the summer heat, covered him with a brocade quilt, and then quietly withdrew.
Fusu slept soundly until dawn.
There was neither the Duke of Zhou nor Confucius in my dream, nor any classics or historical texts. When I woke up, I felt refreshed and clear-headed.
"Phew..." He rubbed his face, took the handkerchief and put it on his face, feeling much more awake. After washing up, he looked at himself in the bronze mirror, then pinched his round, white hands, somewhat dazed. From this day forward, he was four years old, but as the person involved, he didn't feel it at all. Why was that?
But others don't think so.
"It's a bit too high," Emperor Renzong said.
"You've lost weight and gotten a bit darker," Empress Cao said.
What's that saying? Change happens silently in people you see every day, but is especially noticeable in people you reunite with after a long separation.
"...It's normal to be a little tanned, it's midsummer now." Despite saying this, Fusu looked at himself in the bronze mirror again and again, his brow furrowed. Was he really that tanned? Was it obvious? So obvious that his own mother would immediately criticize him upon seeing him?
"Hahahahahahahaha." Emperor Renzong laughed loudly for a while, then moved closer to Fusu, posing for a side-by-side comparison. After a moment, he commented, "He is a bit dark-skinned."
Fusu: "..."
He pouted, clearly displeased: "Isn't it because the Imperial Academy wants to grow vegetables?"
Although he wasn't given much work, he still had to work under the sun for a while every day. Unlike the officials, whose sons, rich and powerful, never sat under a dangerous roof; they were always in the Chui Gong Hall or the Funing Hall. Even under the blazing sun, someone would hold an umbrella for them. How could they not be fair-skinned?
"What's wrong? Are you unhappy?" The Emperor took the opportunity to pinch Fusu's little face. It was soft and smooth, and the feel was as good as before. "I'll have the Imperial Hospital prescribe some medicine for you, both internally and externally. It will definitely make you fair again."
Fusu snorted. Even if it were true, he wouldn't admit it. Having lived three lifetimes, it was utterly absurd for him to be so childish about appearance and skin color.
So he found another excuse: "Your Majesty, Your Majesty, what are you doing in my bedroom?"
If he hadn't been lucky enough to be dressed and washed up, his sleeping face would have been caught red-handed. How could that be? Even children need privacy.
Empress Cao covered her mouth, seemingly unable to suppress a laugh: "Don't you even look at what time it is?"
Fusu: "...What time is it?"
Pulled along by the Emperor and Empress, he saw the scorching sun shining almost vertically outside. He fell into a deep silence. He knew he had slept in, but he hadn't realized it was so late.
Empress Cao added insult to injury, "Fine, then we won't need breakfast. We can save room for your birthday banquet."
Fusu lowered her dark eyes, moved her lips, and after a long while, finally managed to utter a defense: "It's because the entrance exam was too tiring, so I... and I already passed! Just yesterday!"
"Oh? Is it that amazing?"
"And all the PhDs are vying to have me become their apprentice."
"So, who did Su'er ultimately choose?"
Fusu paused for a moment: "Lord Fan. But the teacher who teaches me how to write essays now is Mei Yaochen."
Unseen by him, Emperor Renzong and Empress Cao exchanged a glance. They recalled their unpleasant encounter. At that time, Renzong had intended to shelve the Qingli Reforms, but Fan Zhongyan had requested to be transferred to the northwest frontier. Renzong, as a second choice, appointed Song Qi, the Vice Minister of Rites, as the Assistant Minister of the Zishan Hall. Empress Cao, therefore, subtly—no, almost openly—criticized the Emperor.
Unexpectedly, after many twists and turns, the master and disciple who could not be together reunited at the Imperial College.
Anyone who hears this can't help but sigh at the incredible coincidence.
Emperor Renzong's eyes held a complex mix of emotions, but he said nothing about the underlying reasons, only stroking Fusu's head.
"In terms of character and learning, no one in the entire court can surpass Lord Fan. Su'er, you must learn from him."
"Of course I know," Fusu pouted. Just yesterday, he had used similar tactics to earnestly advise Su Shi, only to be rebuffed. His idol-like devotion to his descendants was certainly exaggerated, but wasn't it also because Fan Zhongyan himself deserved that admiration?
"By the way, Your Majesty, you said I should learn from him, but when will I be able to meet him?"
This man, whose character and learning are unparalleled in his time, is currently in exile. As his disciple, of course I must speak up for my teacher.
Emperor Renzong: "..."
"How come you're already siding with outsiders the moment you've become their disciple? Aren't you afraid your father will be jealous?" he complained half-jokingly, before replying, "We'll have to wait until the situation in the Northwest stabilizes."
The Liao and Xia dynasties have recently clashed again, and the outcome remains unclear. It is imperative to send trusted individuals to guard the northwestern frontier.
"Yes, yes." Fusu nodded repeatedly, though he wasn't actually in a hurry. A quick calculation revealed that the *Yueyang Tower Inscription* contained the phrases "spring of the fourth year of the Qingli reign" and "the following year," indicating the article was written at least in the fifth year of the Qingli reign. This meant Fan Zhongyan wouldn't be returning to Bianjing this year. He was merely inquiring—what if he acted prematurely and brought him back now, changing Fan Zhongyan's mindset and preventing him from writing that timeless masterpiece?
Then he would become a sinner for all time!
Fu Su shuddered at the thought and quickly changed the subject: "Didn't you say I could skip breakfast and save it for the birthday banquet? What about the birthday banquet?"
Empress Cao teased him, "So eager?"
"Yes! I'm hungry!" Fusu said matter-of-factly.
Empress Cao waved to the eunuchs, and soon maids filed in. The sight of the first dish that caught Fusu's eye caused his pupils to dilate dramatically.
"This is……"
At the head of the display pieces was an art piece, its exquisite craftsmanship bringing the four-year-old Fusu to life. But its material was neither jade nor Hetian jade; rather, it was… rock candy, something Fusu had once invented.
The sugar painting he invented became a birthday gift for him on his fourth birthday.
Fusu approached and examined it closely. On the shimmering, almost transparent, caramel-yellow candy shell, even the curve of his lips was exactly the same as when he smiled normally. This was enough to demonstrate the immense effort the designer had put into it. And how well the designer understood him, how much he loved him.
"Do you have any candles?" Fusu suddenly asked.
He suddenly felt like blowing out the candles.
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Author's Note: I felt happy while writing this chapter, and I hope you all feel the same way. [Cat paw]
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