Prime Minister 02

"Young master! Young master!" Several servants panicked.

"Someone!" Fang Zhiyi dusted off his trousers. His household had plenty of servants, and they all rushed out at his call.

Seeing the scene before them, everyone was bewildered.

"Every last one of these fools—hang them up and beat them!" Though confused, the servants obeyed, immediately restraining the young master's attendants.

"And this one—fetch a basin of water to wake him up!"

Fang Bufan was utterly dazed. First, his father kicked him square in the face, then he was doused with water. Before he could even gather his wits, he was grabbed by the collar and slapped over a dozen times until blood trickled from his nose and mouth.

The old steward couldn’t bear it any longer. "My lord, my lord, please show mercy!"

"Mercy?" Fang Zhiyi turned, his eyes icy. The old steward felt a chill down his spine and didn’t dare say another word.

"Tie him up!"

"Yes!"

Shen Xun returned home after his shift and heard from his wife’s maid that she had been harassed by a dissolute young nobleman earlier that day. His blood boiled with rage—until he learned it was Fang Bufan. Then he had no choice but to swallow his anger. That was the prime minister’s son. He couldn’t afford to provoke him.

But before he could even settle in, someone came knocking at his door.

Opening it, he found a servant from the prime minister’s residence standing outside. The servant informed him that Prime Minister Fang requested his presence for a discussion.

Shen Xun’s heart sank. He knew Fang Bufan’s reputation—and his father’s even more so. Especially after Fang Bufan’s mother passed away, the prime minister had spoiled his son beyond reason.

That morning, Fang Bufan had harassed his wife. Now, the prime minister was summoning him to his residence...

After a long deliberation, Shen Xun decided to go—but not without hiding a dagger at his waist. If Fang Bufan tried anything, at least he could fight back.

But when he arrived, he saw Fang Zhiyi pacing anxiously at the entrance.

Spotting him, Fang Zhiyi hurried forward. "Lord Shen, Lord Shen! You’ve finally come."

Shen Xun, mindful of propriety, quickly clasped his hands in salute, though his suspicions only deepened.

"Come, come, let’s talk inside."

Shen Xun stared at the lavish feast before him, and when Fang Zhiyi personally poured him wine, his nerves nearly failed him. After all, apart from the emperor, no one received such treatment in the prime minister’s residence.

Was he walking to his death today?

His hand discreetly tightened around the dagger at his waist.

"Today, I wish to apologize to you," Fang Zhiyi rambled.

Shen Xun was stunned. The prime minister… apologizing to him?

"Bring him in!" Fang Zhiyi barked with a frown. Moments later, four men carried in a figure bound tightly with ropes. At a wave of Fang Zhiyi’s hand, they dumped him unceremoniously on the floor.

Shen Xun squinted—he didn’t recognize the man. His face was swollen like a pancake, mottled with bruises.

"I have only one son. After his mother died, I indulged him too much, and before I knew it, he grew rotten," Fang Zhiyi sighed. "Today, he dared to harass your wife—and even had the gall to boast about it to me! So I lost my temper and gave him a few lashes."

Fang Zhiyi leaned over his wayward son. "Normally, I should’ve dragged him to your doorstep to apologize. But such a spectacle might invite gossip and harm your reputation, Lord Shen. That’s why I invited you here instead."

He gestured magnanimously. "Go ahead, Lord Shen. Beat him however you please."

Shen Xun was speechless. This was Fang Bufan?

His face was so swollen and bloodied that Shen Xun hadn’t recognized him. He looked up at Fang Zhiyi in disbelief. This didn’t make sense—everyone said Prime Minister Fang doted on his son above all else. So why…?

But seeing Fang Zhiyi’s earnest expression, Shen Xun gritted his teeth. "Prime Minister, the young master is still immature. Let’s just forget this matter."

"Immature? This thing is immature?" Fang Zhiyi punctuated his words with another kick at Fang Bufan.

"Ah—no, no, don’t hit him! Please calm down, Prime Minister." Shen Xun finally understood—Fang Zhiyi truly intended to beat his son to death. Yet he couldn’t just stand by and watch.

Fang Zhiyi relented, pulling Shen Xun back to the table and pouring more wine.

As the saying goes, wine is the key to the heart. After a few cups, Shen Xun’s tongue loosened. Gazing at Fang Zhiyi, he couldn’t help but feel moved.

"I’ve had little interaction with the prime minister, but the rumors paint you as… fiercely protective of your own. Seeing you today, I realize how unreliable gossip can be."

Fang Zhiyi chuckled awkwardly. "One must see with their own eyes to know the truth. Come, let’s drink as brothers."

"Drink!"

By the time the moon hung high in the branches, Shen Xun was thoroughly drunk and took his leave. Fang Zhiyi sent two men to escort him home. The next morning, Shen Xun woke with a pounding headache and a cold sweat as he recalled the previous night’s events. He had drunk with Fang Zhiyi? And gotten wasted?

Then he saw the gifts his maid Xiao Cui brought in, and his confusion deepened.

"These were delivered by the two men who brought you home last night. They said it was the prime minister’s apology to your wife."

Shen Xun wondered if he was still dreaming.

But the following day, a timid figure loitered at his doorstep. Squinting, Shen Xun barely recognized the visitor—it was Young Master Fang, his face only just beginning to heal.

The moment Fang Bufan saw him, he threw himself at Shen Xun’s feet, clinging to his leg. "Lord Shen! Please take me in! My father said I either become your disciple—or he’ll beat me to death!"

Shen Xun was at a complete loss.

What in the world?

But as Fang Bufan wept, snot and tears streaming down his face, Shen Xun glanced back at his astonished wife. "Get up first. We’ll talk."

"No! My father said if you refuse, he’ll break my legs! And—and he swore that if I so much as glance at your wife again, he’ll gouge out my eyes!"

Shen Xun sucked in a sharp breath. "The prime minister would never—"

Fang Bufan didn’t wait for him to finish. He yanked open his robe. "Look!"

Shen Xun’s mind blanked. Fang Bufan’s body was covered in fresh bruises—clearly, he’d been beaten again the night before.

"Fine, I agree. Get up. Later, I’ll speak to the prime minister on your behalf." He couldn’t help but pity the young man. Fang Bufan was a scoundrel, but this… What was the prime minister playing at?

His head spinning, Shen Xun later sought out his colleague, Li Li, the captain of the imperial guards. After sharing the story, even Li Li was baffled. As military officers, they were usually beneath civil officials in rank. Fang Zhiyi had no reason to punish his son for their sake.

Unless… he’d been possessed?

After court adjourned, the emperor summoned Fang Zhiyi.

"We heard you beat your son yesterday?"

Fang Zhiyi nodded, seething. "If I don’t beat him now, he’ll be ruined! Your Majesty knows—I had only one wife. After she died, I never remarried. You can imagine how I respect women."

The emperor considered this and found it reasonable.

"But this wretch—if he gambled or fought crickets, fine! But to harass women in broad daylight—and another man’s wife at that? He deserves a thrashing! Worthless brat! Instead of thinking how to serve his emperor and country, all he cares about is chasing skirts. Absolutely—"

The emperor hastily raised a hand to cut him off. That was his hobby too. If Fang Zhiyi kept ranting, he’d end up insulting the emperor as well.