Futile Devices Scans

Elio’s Notes: Sorry guys. Another historical danmei. 😅

Barely had the Mid-Autumn Festival passed when purple qi began gathering above the Northern Zhou imperial palace. Divine radiance blanketed the grounds, while thunder from the Ninth Heaven hung suspended without falling, as though amassing the boundless power to split heaven and earth apart.

The Directorate of Astronomy proclaimed, “An auspicious phenomenon has appeared in the heavens. It is a fortunate omen for the nation.”

An ominous feeling rose in the hearts of every civil and military official: The bootlickers have opened their mouths. The emperor is about to start acting like a dog.

Sure enough, at morning court, the emperor expelled a breath of foul air—

“We intend to move the capital to Luoyang!”

Had any other emperor said such a thing, the civil and military officials below would undoubtedly have swarmed forward, spraying enough spittle to ensure that every corner of the hall received an equal share of their benevolent dew. They would have made absolutely certain their bastard of a superior understood that this country was not his personal dictatorship, and a capital was not a house he could move whenever the mood struck him!

Unfortunately, Northern Zhou’s current emperor was a professional head-chopper.

If you dared spray saliva, he dared make you spray blood. One man came forward, one entire family got chopped. Blades delivered to your door, service provided right in your home. Thus, although the ministers were squawking, grumbling, and cursing inwardly, they remained outwardly respectful and terrified as they accepted this scorching-hot potato.

And the emperor was not finished. Fully aware that his worthless pack of subordinates excelled at obeying publicly while resisting privately, he waved a hand and tossed some bait into the pond—the Grand Secretariat would draw up the rosters of those moving to Luoyang and those remaining in Haojing.

Draw up the rosters? Draw up his ass!

The worthless bastards cursed as they threw themselves wholeheartedly into the struggle.

The emperor had declared that the eastward relocation was intended to place Northern Zhou closer to Southern Yu, allowing it to threaten its rival directly and demonstrate its determination to unite the realm! Haojing would thereafter serve as the secondary capital, controlling the rear and remaining an indispensable lifeline that could not be neglected.

The ministers all declared that since both administrations were equally important, they would naturally make the thoroughly “casual” decision to go to Luoyang. After all, if they were too far away to whisper into the emperor’s pillow, were they supposed to remain behind and survive by drinking the northwestern wind? Distance might lend enchantment when it amounted to a few streets, but from thousands upon thousands of li away, even a dog’s nose would not catch the scent!

Thus, when the two administrations were being divided, the ministers displayed their lofty integrity—

One side had barely stepped forward and declared its willingness to pioneer the new capital, generously leaving the wealthy, prosperous, and fertile lands of Haojing to its dearest colleagues, when the other side immediately volunteered to set a personal example by rushing to Luoyang first to endure all its hardships and toil.

The two factions humbly deferred to each other for a while. Upon discovering that the bastards opposite them remained entirely unmoved, fury surged from their hearts and malice rose from their guts…

Over the past few days, more than a dozen vicious brawls between household servants had suddenly broken out in Haojing. Every participant came from an impressive background. Whenever the Jinwu Guards arrived and examined the splendid lineups fielded by both sides, all they could do was stand by holding water and cheering them on. They were afraid that even attempting to mediate would mean overstepping their authority.

For a time, turbulent undercurrents swept through Haojing, and the city remained in ceaseless uproar.

But the world was vast, and there would always be salted fish who refused to turn over and devoted homebodies who loved staying put. One such person was Fu Xi Yan, whose guiding principle in life was: Pray that my friends and family strive harder, then get into position and wait to win while lying down.

He could still recall the year when his name had been Fu Hun Ding and, at the advanced age of fifteen, he had squatted in the Fu clan’s lower-grade school to mooch lessons. The instant he announced this guiding principle, his words astonished everyone present. That very evening, his father, Fu Fu, renamed him with a dark expression. Had he not feared ridicule, Fu Fu would dearly have loved to rename him “Fu Shut Up,” “Fu Zip It,” or “Fu Spout Any More Nonsense and Your Father Will Slap You.”

Unfortunately, attempting to restrain someone’s personality through their name was clearly unrealistic.

Even now, Fu Xi Yan had shown no sign of living up to a name meaning “few words.” He muttered endlessly even when alone in his room.

Elio’s Notes: Fu Xi Yan’s original name, Fu Hun Ding (傅昏定), comes from the classical phrase chen hun ding xing (晨昏定省), referring to a child’s duty to attend to their parents morning and evening. His younger brother’s name, Fu Chen Xing (傅晨省), forms the matching half of the phrase. After Fu Hun Ding makes an outrageously lazy declaration, his father renames him Fu Xi Yan (傅希言), meaning “to speak little”—an elegant way of telling him to shut up.

“Hungry Henry liked berries but couldn’t, naughty old Fred needed nasty Maggie, always singing poorly, so Claire argued, Katie carried scarlet tin vases, cranky Manny fed cobalt nickels… copper zinc… copper zinc… What came after that again?”

He rested his chin on one hand and thought for a while. When nothing came to him, he could not resist opening the notebook from his childhood. Beneath the symbols for hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine, neon, sodium, magnesium, aluminum, silicon, phosphorus, and the rest, he had written several mnemonic phrases cobbled together from his memories and their pronunciations.

“Ah, right! Gary gets asked, ‘Send brown crackers!’”

He sat silently for a moment, then abruptly pressed a hand to his forehead and muttered, “When my memories first returned, everything was perfectly clear. The older I get, the worse my memory becomes. Ah, thank goodness I transmigrated and don’t have to sit the college entrance examination. At this level, I wouldn’t even get into vocational school.”

Fu Xi Yan closed the notebook dejectedly.

The word “Chemistry” had been written crookedly across its cover with a calligraphy brush. Too many people came and went from his room, so there were certain things he did not dare write too plainly. As long as he could understand them himself, that was enough.

One of the young servants had once caught sight of it, but had presumably mistaken it for random scribbling and paid it no attention.

Fu Xi Yan reverently placed the book inside his treasure chest alongside Math, Physics, and English. Although the knowledge within them was rudimentary, it represented the budding seed of scientific development in this dynasty—and his sole golden finger across two lifetimes.

In his previous life, he had drowned while saving someone. Bearing the merit of an act said to surpass the construction of a seven-story pagoda, he had been reincarnated as a concubine-born son of the head of the Fu clan. Perhaps he had been served expired Granny Meng’s soup, because from the age of three onward, the memories of his previous life had gradually awakened.

Although he was a concubine-born son, his circumstances were reasonably comfortable.

His father, Fu Fu, was the eldest son of the senior branch. After Fu Xi Yan’s grandfather, Count Yongfeng, passed away, Fu Fu inherited the title and became the head of the family. From that moment onward, seven enormous words might as well have been carved between his brows: All of you will restore this family’s glory. He had inherited the methods of Zhou the Skin-Flayer, and for the sake of the count’s estate’s performance targets, he would not even spare his concubine-born sons.

—He was also the chief reason Fu Xi Yan’s happiness index had never reached its maximum.

His birth mother, Concubine Bai, had passed away shortly after giving birth to him, leaving him with no memories of her. Madam Fu, the mistress of the household, was a competent professional manager who kept the entire residence running in perfect order and concerned herself with nothing beyond that. Thanks to her, none of the concubines had ever managed to obtain a script for an inner-household battle drama.

His second paternal aunt, Fu Hui Ran, had married the heir to the Duke of Haixi when Fu Xi Yan was still young and accompanied her husband to guard the frontier. His third paternal uncle, Fu Xuan, had joined the army in his youth and taken control of the Fu family’s military influence. He currently served as an Assistant Commander of the Yulin Guard but had never married.

—Fu Xi Yan believed his uncle must once have experienced a stirring, tragic, and unknown love story worthy of song and tears. Unfortunately, his father kept his mouth firmly shut.

He had two elder brothers, Fu Li An and Fu Dong Wen, one legitimate and one concubine-born, both exceptionally talented at their studies. His concubine-born elder sister, Fu Xia Qing, was beautiful and sweet-voiced. Below him was one concubine-born younger brother, Fu Chen Xing, who had only recently begun his elementary studies but already showed every sign of being excellent scholarly material.

—Just look! His brothers were already working so hard, yet his father still refused to let him off. A hypocritical father who wanted to lie back and win while demanding that every son become a dragon was simply outrageous!

There were also several collateral relatives with whom they shared poor relations.

Nevertheless, a large household whose members had produced only three or four children in each of two generations was considered thinly populated among Northern Zhou’s powerful aristocratic clans and noble families. No wonder Fu Xi Yan’s salted-fish declaration had provoked his old father’s thunderous rage. After all, wasting limited resources was shameful in any era!

Fu Xi Yan understood this perfectly well. Therefore, when his father once again brought up the relocation of the capital after dinner, he immediately stepped forward with an air of fearless righteousness and declared that he would obey His Majesty’s instructions by remaining in Haojing to hold the family’s rear base.

The entire room fell silent.

Madam Fu rose calmly and called for the concubines to leave with her.

Fu Li An gave his salted-fish younger brother a meaningful pat on the shoulder, then led the remaining brothers and sisters away from the room where a scene unsuitable for minors was about to unfold. Before leaving, he thoughtfully closed the door behind them.

Only Fu Fu remained in the hall, seated imposingly with his legs planted wide apart. Behind him, the gold-threaded ring-pommel saber resting on its stand trembled faintly, displaying its eagerness to come out for a walk.

Fu Xi Yan: “…”

He had a certain… ominous premonition…

Fu Xi Yan bounced one leg uneasily and tried his best to sound justified. “I’m obeying the emperor.” Tap the blackboard! Underline the key point! This was unquestionably politically correct!

Fu Fu gazed at the son who had been somewhat abnormal since childhood and suddenly sighed. Everyone said children were debts from a previous life, but why had he directly given birth to a debt?

He said, “Do you think the emperor is like you, doing whatever suddenly comes into his head? Long before the decree to relocate the capital was issued, he must have secretly won over countless people. Those aristocratic clans might be weeping and wailing in public, but for all we know, they purchased estates in Luoyang long ago and have merely been waiting to move. The fact that we received no information proves only that our family is insignificant! Before you decide to stay in Haojing and defend our main base, you should first determine whether our family is even capable of going to Luoyang.”

“Then why aren’t you working harder?” Fu Xi Yan muttered under his breath. “You’re always saying I’m useless, but you’re obviously just as much of a salted fish yourself.”

Fu Fu inhaled deeply. “Come here.”

Resistance was written all over Fu Xi Yan’s face as he grumbled, “Look at you. You claim you’re not a salted fish, yet even when you want to beat your son, you make me walk over and offer up my own head.”

…

Endure it.

He had to endure it.

An unfilial son was still a “son”!

Fu Fu forced out a smile. “…I will not hit you.”

Fu Xi Yan looked at the saber, then at him, clearly doubtful. “If you’re lying, you’ll gain ten jin.”

Fu Fu finally erupted. “Look at yourself! Look how fat you are! Have you never spoken a single honest word since the day you were born?”

Fu Xi Yan: “…”

When hitting someone, do not strike the face. When insulting someone, do not expose his sore spots. You are not a good father!

Fu Xi Yan said aggrievedly, “It isn’t as though I chose to be fat.”

It was indeed strange. Everyone else in their family had a perfectly acceptable figure. Only he had supposedly weighed twelve jin at birth and emerged as round as a ball, after which he had never once deflated. He had still been fairly adorable as a small child, but once he became a youth, the sight grew somewhat frightening.

Thus, from the age of five onward, he had consciously attempted to lose weight. Exercise, medicine, dieting, even observing a weeklong vow of silence… He had struggled for a full eight years, yet the harder he tried, the more heartbreaking the results became. The flesh on his body seemed to regard his efforts as something worthy of reward and increased with every passing day. On the day his weight surpassed two hundred jin, he gave up and lay flat.

Fu Fu also recalled the days when Fu Xi Yan, despite his young age, never slept late and rose before dawn to jiggle his flesh—no, to go running. A faint trace of heartache finally stirred within him, and he called, “Fourth…”

Fu Xi Yan shuddered from head to toe. Whenever his father addressed him this way, he thought of the Fourth Prince who had worked himself to death. “Father, come now. Let’s speak plainly. None of that honey on the lips and a dagger in the belly, all right?”

Fu Fu’s face twitched. “There are more than two paths in life besides the civil and martial.”

Fu Xi Yan froze, then instantly looked horrified. “You aren’t planning to use me for a marriage alliance, are you?”

“…A marriage alliance is meant to create in-laws, not enemies.” Fu Fu stared at Fu Xi Yan’s fair, plump face and paused. No matter how large the round platter might be, the two black grapes set within it were exceptionally brilliant and captivating, reminding him of Fu Xi Yan’s incomparably beautiful birth mother. When Fourth was little, it had been possible to see that his features resembled his mother’s. Had he not been so round, fleshy, and fat, his face alone might have attracted enough marriage proposals to wear down the threshold of their residence.

What a pity.

Fu Fu shook his head, abandoned this unrealistic fantasy, and continued, “It would still be best to find a family willing to agree of its own accord.” Lost in his thoughts, he completely failed to notice that the fair, tender face of the son opposite him had already turned as black as the bottom of a pot.

Fu Xi Yan puffed up indignantly. “How does Father know there won’t be anyone willing?” Even Yang Yu Huan had encountered both Prince Shou and Emperor Xuanzong. Why should he be any different

Elio’s Notes: Yang Yuhuan, later known as Consort Yang, was first married to the Prince of Shou before becoming Emperor Xuanzong’s favored consort. Fu Xi Yan invokes her story to argue that if she could attract both a prince and an emperor, surely someone could willingly marry him too.

Fu Fu scoffed. “As the saying goes, when taking a wife, choose virtue rather than beauty; when choosing a husband, choose his heart rather than his wealth. Whose daughter would wish to marry a lazy man whose life’s ambition is to lie flat?”

That was going too far. Much too far. This absolutely could not be tolerated. Fu Xi Yan racked his brains until he finally found a suitable rebuttal, then thrust out his chest.

“But I’m virtuous!”

Fu Fu: “…”

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