After Fu Zhi passed away, Zhao Hanzhang only gave Fu Tinghan three months of rest, then recalled him from mourning to continue working.
Fu Tinghan observed mourning for Fu Zhi at home, but aside from not going to the office for work or business trips and eating vegetarian food, his life differed little from usual. Each day upon waking, besides the morning and evening three sticks of incense, he shut himself in his study.
The desk was covered with draft papers, filled with things even Fu Xuan couldn’t quite understand.
Princess Hongnong felt this wouldn’t do—it was too unfilial. So she had people build a thatched cottage beside Fu Zhi’s grave, then drove both father and son to the cottage to observe mourning.
She would bring them meals daily.
Fu Tinghan obediently went, but felt her traveling back and forth was too troublesome. Just delivering meals took up an entire day.
With his modern thinking, Fu Tinghan felt—with this time, what couldn’t she do?
So he personally carried a bag of rice and millet, deciding to cook his own food.
Zhao Hanzhang prepared pots, bowls, ladles, and basins for him, along with a jar of pickled vegetables. She even packed several packets of vegetable seeds and brought him hoes of all sizes.
Princess Hongnong watched dumbfounded. Zhao Hanzhang explained to her, “Since they’re observing mourning, let’s be thorough. Have them do these things within their ability themselves.”
So from now on, they didn’t need to bring them meals. They only needed to occasionally go up the mountain to pay respects to Fu Zhi and check on the father and son in passing.
Zhao Hanzhang escorted them to the thatched cottage. Seeing inside were only two facing wooden boards, but the thatch was piled quite thick and shouldn’t leak rain, she felt reassured.
She walked around nearby, then used a hoe to turn over a plot of land, “This plot is suitable for growing vegetables. Hoe this one.”
Fu Tinghan came forward to work with her. Seeing Fu Xuan standing blankly to the side, he considerately handed him a sickle, “Father, please cut the wild grass.”
Fu Xuan took it in a daze.
In this regard, he was inferior even to his father. Fu Zhi every year worked the fields alongside the common people and soldiers, quite familiar with agriculture, but Fu Xuan…
What he excelled at most was reading.
Princess Hongnong wanted them to come express their grief and observe mourning, but hadn’t expected Zhao Hanzhang and Fu Tinghan to be so thorough, even growing their own vegetables.
After working hard all day, they only cleared a small plot of land. Both Princess Hongnong and Zhao Hanzhang stayed there that night. Sitting by the fire, she explained to Zhao Hanzhang, “I had them build a thatched cottage for mourning not to deliberately make things difficult for them, but because I believe Father deserves their grief. They dwell at home, indeed wearing hemp clothes, eating vegetarian and not attending banquets, yet immersed in books with peaceful, happy expressions showing no grief. If they don’t miss the deceased, how can they inherit the deceased’s aspirations?”
Before Zhao Hanzhang could speak, Fu Xuan first expressed opposition, “You’re not me. How do you know I don’t miss Father?”
He said, “Weeping and wailing isn’t the only way to express longing.”
“You only see me reading books, but don’t know what books I’m reading. I’m clearly organizing Father’s manuscripts from before. Now that the book bureau is thriving, I want to sort Father’s manuscripts by category, print them into books, and pass them down. Isn’t this expressing grief?”
Princess Hongnong turned to look at Fu Tinghan, “And you? Are the things you’re writing and drawing also your grandfather’s manuscripts?”
Actually no—those were all things Fu Tinghan needed to do. Recently, he’d just been mechanically observing mourning and really hadn’t thought much about Fu Zhi. His face reddened as he lowered his head.
Zhao Hanzhang stirred the porridge in the pot and said to Princess Hongnong, “Mother, Grandfather’s greatest wish in life was peace for the realm, wasn’t it? What Tinghan is doing now is precisely work to stabilize the realm. Isn’t this fulfilling Grandfather’s wish?”
“Mourning should express grief. People are so pained they cannot manage affairs, which is why there’s the custom of leaving office for mourning,” Princess Hongnong said. “You recalled him from mourning after three months, which already subjected Tinghan to criticism. Yet he still doesn’t observe mourning sincerely. If this spreads, what reputation will he have in the future?”
Zhao Hanzhang spoke seriously, “Mother, watch your words. Tinghan is very sincerely observing mourning. Not changing the ancestral ways—this is Tinghan’s greatest filial piety.”
Princess Hongnong opened her mouth but couldn’t find words to refute.
Zhao Hanzhang said, “Zaiyu believed the three-year mourning rite should be changed. Confucius thought it improper, because during the mourning period eating rice and wearing brocade constitutes enjoying pleasure, thus feeling uneasy. Feeling uneasy, thus not doing it.”
“But Zaiyu himself could be at peace. He too was filial.”
Princess Hongnong said flatly, “Confucius said Zaiyu was not benevolent.”
Zhao Hanzhang countered, “Confucius said Zaiyu was not benevolent and righteous—does that make Zaiyu not benevolent and righteous? Zaiyu was one of Confucius’s Ten Wise Disciples and one of the Thirteen Honored Sages.”
“Mother, if Zaiyu was not benevolent, doesn’t that mean even ancient sages had unbenevolent and unrighteous people? Then can sages’ words still be trusted? But if Zaiyu wasn’t such a person, doesn’t that mean Confucius was wrong?” Zhao Hanzhang said, “This shows that even sages’ words can be wrong sometimes. As students and later generations, what we must learn is to think.”
“Circumstances change with the times, times change with circumstances. What Tinghan does in court saves countless lives. With Grandfather’s character, do you think he would want Tinghan to obediently do nothing at home just thinking of him for twenty-seven months, or go out to save more people and serve the country?”
Princess Hongnong said, “I…”
Seeing her lips pressed tightly, Zhao Hanzhang softened her tone, “I know Mother is heartbroken. We’re heartbroken too. Precisely because we’re heartbroken, we want the realm stable sooner, the people to live prosperously, and when the country is peaceful and people secure, to pay respects to Grandfather. I believe this is the greatest filial piety.”
Fu Xuan nodded deeply in agreement, also saying to Princess Hongnong, “Have someone bring all those books and manuscripts from the study. Besides growing vegetables, I need to organize Father’s manuscripts.”
Fu Tinghan opened his mouth, involuntarily looking at Zhao Hanzhang.
Zhao Hanzhang didn’t need him to speak, directly nodding, “I’ll have your books and drafts sent up tomorrow too.”
Fu Tinghan exhaled in relief. Growing vegetables didn’t take much time. Besides growing vegetables, he couldn’t just sit idle, right?
But when the books and drafts were delivered to the mountain, Fu Tinghan discovered he didn’t spend much time on work after all.
Growing vegetables was quite time-consuming. Every day he needed to clear a small plot of land and scatter new seeds. The seeds needed watering. The distance from here to the water source took some time—going took about a quarter hour, carrying water back took about half an hour.
Fu Tinghan once considered leaving this task to his personal guards.
That’s right—though he came to observe mourning, many personal guards were quietly stationed around guarding him.
But looking at the thatched cottage and the nearby grave, Fu Tinghan still silently went to fetch water himself.
The mountain path wasn’t easy to walk, especially when carrying water. The first two days he was unusually irritable, but by the third day, he had grown accustomed to carrying the wooden buckets to fetch water.
Moreover, walking this familiar mountain path made his heart extraordinarily peaceful. He actually had much time to think.
Even when carrying water back gasping for breath, he could still work out formulas in his mind.
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