Chapter Fifteen: The Han Dynasty Steals Techniques, My Brother-in-law Bears the Bearing of an Emperor!

The information was overwhelming; it would be a lie to say he wasn't astonished.

Madam Zhou Wang gave Han Fu no chance to speak—perhaps she had never intended him to speak at all. She rose slowly, turned to face him, and gazed intently before saying, “I summoned you here not to discuss Zhao Mei. I mention her only to warn you: do not be deceived by those monastic robes she wears. Today, I merely wished to see you and offer a few words of advice.”

“The young man from the Qin family prepared for three months, yet the poems he composed were no match for yours. Your talent is beyond question.”

“Who could have imagined that all for the so-called future of the Zhou family, Mingsu would go so far as to sacrifice herself and orchestrate that tournament, only for you to disrupt it? Truly, man proposes but heaven disposes.”

“Every sip and every morsel is determined by fate. Some may be discontent, but to my mind, this is the will of heaven.”

Han Fu listened in silence, stealing a glance at Madam Zhou Wang.

She referred to herself as an old woman, yet she was not old at all—forty, in the prime of life, still graceful and charming. Though devoted to the Buddha, she did not wear a nun’s habit, but instead dressed in simple cloth robes that lent her a unique allure.

Of course, Han Fu’s admiration sprang from genuine appreciation, free of any improper thoughts.

He heard her continue, “Now that I see you, I find you quite handsome, though a bit thin. Life must have been hard before; eat more from now on.”

“Thank you for your concern, madam. I will,” Han Fu replied sincerely, grateful for the kindness of an elder.

She nodded slowly, a faint smile softening her features. “In two days, you and Mingsu will be wed. That child has been stubborn since she was young, never willing to yield. As her husband, I ask you to be patient with her.”

“Please, madam, rest assured,” Han Fu replied, omitting the fact that he was merely a live-in son-in-law and hardly in any position for such assurances. Of course, for a transmigrator with great ambition, such distinctions mattered little.

But Madam Zhou Wang seemed to see straight through him. Lowering her gaze, she said, “The Emperor’s edict requires you to marry into the Zhou family. As for the reasons, you can ponder them yourself; I will say no more. But remember this: whatever your family background or status, even as a son-in-law, you are still Mingsu’s husband—a member of the Zhou family. If, in the future, any member of the Zhou family looks down on you or bullies you, come to me. I will see that justice is done.”

“Thank you, madam. I will remember your words,” Han Fu replied, bowing deeply. Though it was their first meeting, he felt a strong sense of goodwill toward this woman.

Indeed, since his arrival in this world, Madam Zhou Wang had left the best impression on him—without exception.

Even Bai Li Mingda, with all his fawning, could not compare. After all, that one’s flattery was laced with ulterior motives.

Still…such a kind lady. Why, then, did Bai Li Mingda look so frightened, refusing to accompany him here?

Unable to fathom it, Han Fu let the matter drop.

Madam Zhou Wang smiled again, a trace of maternal warmth in her expression. “You may go now.”

“Farewell, madam.”

She returned to her seat and resumed chanting sutras.

Han Fu withdrew, closing the door behind him.

Aunt Zhao awaited him nearby, greeting him with a bow. “Amitabha. Please, follow this humble nun.”

She said little as they left, simply leading the way.

Trailing behind, Han Fu’s gaze wandered to the swaying form beneath her monastic robes, and he was sorely tempted to ask: Master, when you delight with the abbot of Du’e Monastery, do you also intone the Buddha’s name?

Trying to coax a transmigrator into taking vows, just to earn a head fee…

Han Fu’s mind brimmed with complaints, but his face remained calm and impassive.

Compared to Madam Zhou Wang, the contrast between the two women could not have been starker.

One wore a nun’s robe but was no true renunciate.

The other, clad in plain cloth, was genuinely devout.

The world is unpredictable; one must not be deceived by appearances.

A lesson learned.

Outside the Buddha Garden, Bottle was still waiting.

After a formal word of thanks to Aunt Zhao, Han Fu left with Bottle.

The walk was silent; Bottle did not ask what had been said between Madam Zhou Wang and Han Fu. Such matters were not hers to question, though she was eager to know and report back to her mistress.

Bai Li Mingda was still waiting in Han Fu’s chambers. When Han Fu returned, he hurried over, brimming with curiosity. “Brother-in-law, what did Aunt say to you?”

“Nothing in particular,” Han Fu replied, shaking his head as he sat down to read.

Frustrated but restrained, Bai Li Mingda forced himself not to pry further. He sat aside and opened “The Complete Illustrated Guide to Physiognomy,” poring over its pages.

Han Fu, watching him, felt a wave of exasperation.

No talent for divination, yet so diligent—and with such inexplicable confidence…

Truly hopeless!

Bottle went about her duties, returning at noon with lunch.

She was accompanied by a maid carrying another tray.

Lan’er, Bai Li Mingda’s attendant, wisely brought his meal to him rather than making him fetch it.

“Master, Miss sends word that she misses you after just one day apart. After lunch, you and I will go to the other residence together,” Bottle said to Bai Li Mingda.

“She misses me? Impossible…” Bai Li Mingda scoffed, but then shrugged. “Fine, I’ll go. Brother-in-law, let’s eat.”

After the meal, Bai Li Mingda and Bottle departed.

Han Fu wandered the courtyard for a while, then napped briefly before practicing Tai Chi in the yard.

Forbidden to leave the residence, there was no question of running.

Military boxing, combat techniques, and Brazilian jiu-jitsu were all too strenuous for now and best set aside.

Tai Chi, push-ups, and sit-ups, however, could be practiced. Once his body grew stronger, he would consider other exercises.

Han Fu planned each day meticulously—after all, he was a transmigrator with grand ambitions.

The afternoon was quiet; no visitors came to his small courtyard.

So it would have remained, but as Han Fu was performing his fourth set of Tai Chi, a man in coarse, tight-fitting clothes passed by, drawn in by Han Fu’s movements. The man paused, watched for a moment, then shook his head and left.

He was powerfully built, with dark skin, bright eyes, and a full beard—appearing to be in his thirties, though the beard likely made him look older. He carried a small wine jar; perhaps he had already drunk some, for his cheeks were flushed and his gait a little unsteady.

Han Fu paid him no mind and continued his exercises.

After several sets, sweating profusely, he rested briefly before moving on to push-ups.

The bearded man returned, leaning against the archway to watch Han Fu's push-ups. He first seemed surprised, then thoughtful, brow furrowed. When Han Fu prepared to get up, the man left again.

Not long after, as Han Fu began his fourth set, the man returned once more—this time out of breath, sweat beading on his forehead.

He watched for a while, and as Han Fu rose again, the man turned and departed.

This time he was gone longer, and when he returned, he was drenched in sweat.

By then, Han Fu was doing his third set of squats.

With wide eyes, the man watched intently, as if trying to memorize every detail.

Meanwhile, at the Zhou family’s other residence—

Bai Li Mingsu, holding a treatise on military strategy, fixed her gaze on Bai Li Mingda, demanding, “Yesterday, when Bottle returned, she told me you were unusually attentive to Han Fu—almost excessively so. She also mentioned that you climbed the wall to see him and afterward behaved rather strangely. Will you explain why?”

“I knew I couldn’t keep it from you.” Bai Li Mingda laughed, then glanced around furtively like a thief, as if afraid of eavesdroppers.

Bai Li Mingsu sighed. “This is our own residence; there are no outsiders here.”

Reassured, Bai Li Mingda leaned in, lowering his voice mysteriously, “Sister, let me tell you—while studying divination, I’ve also looked into physiognomy. When I saw Han Fu yesterday, at first glance I felt something unusual. On closer inspection, do you know what I discovered?”

He cupped his hand to his mouth, voice barely above a whisper. “You wouldn’t believe it, but it’s true—my brother-in-law has the bearing of a great emperor.”