Chapter 72: Offending Mrs. Mei, Stirring Trouble? Doesn’t Matter!

Chapter 72: Offending Mrs. Mei—Picking a Fight? Don’t Care!

As the situation reached a deadlock, Jiang Jinghuai and Shen Qinghe simultaneously stepped forward, opening their mouths to mediate.

But Bing Wengu strode out ahead of them with a domineering presence.

Like hell he’d let others rescue his own husband—that would make him look utterly incompetent.

“Do you even understand words? My husband has already said it’s not for sale. Return it at once.” Bing Wengu was not one for tactful words, nor did he give a damn whether he offended Mrs. Mei or what consequences might follow.

It wasn’t that Bing Wengu was reckless or indifferent to consequences—he simply had absolute certainty that even if he offended her, he could handle the fallout.

Mrs. Mei was stunned, never expecting Bing Wengu to dare speak to her like this. For a moment, she was too stunned to even retort.

Her maid, Cailian, however, was loyal to a fault and immediately snapped, “How dare you speak to my lady like that! Do you even know who she is?”

“Couldn’t care less who she is.” Bing Wengu’s voice was icy as he glared at Mrs. Mei. “Hand the kaleidoscope back to my husband now.”

Mrs. Mei finally regained her wits. Never in her life had anyone dared to be so brazen with her. Enraged, she lifted her chin defiantly. “I won’t. What’re you gonna do?”

Just then, Bing Wengu spotted two children holding lotus-leaf bundles nearby, watching the commotion. In a flash, he snatched one of the lotus stems from a child’s hand and, before anyone could react, whipped it across Mrs. Mei’s wrist.

A sharp pain shot through her wrist, instantly going limp. Her grip loosened involuntarily, and the kaleidoscope slipped from her fingers.

Bing Wengu had already anticipated this. With a slight crouch, his left hand shot out and caught the kaleidoscope effortlessly. The entire motion was fluid, exuding raw dominance and grace.

He turned and tucked it into Nan Jinping’s arms. “Husband, keep it safe.”

“Damn, that was slick!” Someone in the crowd cheered first, followed by a chorus of applause and praise.

Mrs. Mei had never suffered such humiliation, least of all in front of commoners she despised. She was livid.

“Seize them! Thrash them!” she shrieked, shedding all noble airs.

Her servants immediately closed in on Bing Wengu and Nan Jinping.

Bing Wengu shielded Nan Jinping behind him with one hand while raising the other, ready for a fight.

A handful of lackeys were nothing to him.

Jiang Jinghuai stepped forward then, his gaze full of disdain. “I advise you to think twice, Mrs. Mei. The Empress and His Majesty are currently at the Great Xiangguo Temple for the Qixi Festival. If this commotion disturbs the imperial family, and His Majesty learns you’ve been strong-arming folks into sales, not just you—even the Right Chancellor might face repercussions.”

Mrs. Mei refused to swallow this insult. “He struck me! And you expect me to let it go?”

To everyone else, a strike from a lotus stem couldn’t possibly hurt much—only a spoiled brat like her would make such a fuss.

Shen Qinghe shared the sentiment and added coldly, “If you insist on pursuing this, Mrs. Mei, I’ll have no choice but to report it to my father. He has zero patience for crookedness and will surely bring this matter before His Majesty in court.”

Mrs. Mei bit her lip hard, trembling with fury but not daring to act rashly.

She could disregard Jiang Jinghuai—after all, his family’s marquisate was now just a figurehead title, with the old marquis retired and no real power left. Jiang Jinghuai’s father was merely a minor sixth-rank official stationed in Yanzhou. The marquisate held no sway in court anymore.

But she couldn’t ignore Shen Qinghe. His father was a fifth-rank Secretariat Drafter, skilled in networking and well-connected with several censors in the Imperial Censorate.

Those censors—they’ll pounce on the smallest scandal.

If this dumb squabble led to her father being impeached, especially when he was already angry with her, she had no idea how he’d punish her.

Worse, with the Empress and His Majesty present at the Great Xiangguo Temple, if this reached the Empress—given how chummy she is with the Imperial Consort—she could easily make a federal case out of it.

After much deliberation, Madame Mei could only choke down this injustice. She glared fiercely at Nan Jinping and Bing Wengu, her voice strained through clenched teeth as she spat, "Just you wait!"

Bing Wengu couldn't care less about such threats. If she let it go now, that strike would serve as her lesson. But if she persisted, he’d make sure she suffered dearly—if not leave her half-dead.

Far from being troubled, Bing Wengu even had the leisure to return the lotus to the child nearby, saying, "Thank you for lending me the lotus." (Note: In Chinese culture, the lotus flower symbolizes purity, elegance, and resilience, often used in art and literature.)

The child, having just witnessed Bing Wengu’s fierce strike against a young lady with the very same lotus, was too terrified to take it back.

The little boy immediately buried himself in his Granddad’s legs, clinging tightly as if Bing Wengu were some kidnapper, and let out a wail.

"Hahaha, Bing—" Jiang Jinghuai had barely started calling Bing Wengu by his nickname when Nan Jinping shot him a glare, forcing him to swallow the word. Remembering his earlier promise, he reluctantly corrected himself, "Yuan Ting, look how terrifying you are—you’ve scared the poor child to tears!"

Nan Jinping could only sigh at these two—one cold and intimidating like death incarnate, the other all smiles but clearly taking pleasure in others' misfortune, while a third stood by, completely uninvolved and merely watching the show.

Left with no choice, Nan Jinping took on the task of comforting the child. As he took the lotus from Bing Wengu, he noticed that despite having been used to strike someone, the stem remained completely undamaged. Relieved, he thought the young lady likely hadn’t been seriously hurt.

"Little one, thank you for lending us your lotus. It helped this brother take back the kaleidoscope from a bad person. I’m very grateful," Nan Jinping said, his voice clear and gentle, carrying an inexplicably soothing quality. Gradually, the child’s sobs subsided.

Peeking out from behind his Granddad’s legs, the boy saw a gentle and handsome young man—not the stern-faced demon—and his fear melted away.

He reached out to take the lotus back—his favorite toy, bought for just two coppers by his Granddad. His tear-stained lashes made him look adorably pitiful.

Nan Jinping crouched down to meet the child’s gaze and coaxed him patiently, "I don’t know how to thank you enough. How about letting you take a look at the kaleidoscope?"

"Oh no, that won’t do at all!" The old man waved his hands frantically. He had seen firsthand how valuable the item was—a single glance cost a whole string of coins. "Young master, such a precious thing—please put it away quickly. We wouldn’t want Erlang to break it."

"It’s alright. It’s just a homemade trinket. It’s not worth much," Nan Jinping replied with a smile.

"Granddad, I want to see it! Just one look, I promise I’ll be extra careful and won’t break it!" The child had been watching earlier and knew the kaleidoscope was a rare wonder. He was dying of curiosity—what could be inside that made people fight over it?

The old man looked down into his grandson’s pleading eyes and softened.

He knew this might be the only chance in the boy’s life to see such a thing. If he denied him now, it could become a lifelong regret.

His heart relented. "Well then, thank the kind young master properly. And be very, very careful—don’t damage it."

"Okay!" the boy answered brightly, eagerly leaning in to peer at the kaleidoscope.

Too afraid to touch the expensive object, he simply put his eye to the lens while Nan Jinping turned it for him. Sensing the boy’s hesitation, Nan Jinping took pity and let him hold it himself. "It’s alright, you can hold it. It’s quite sturdy—it won’t break no matter how you turn it. Even if it does, I won’t blame you."

The child glanced at his Granddad for permission. Only after receiving a nod did he happily cradle the kaleidoscope and play with it.

Children’s joys are simple and pure. Soon, the air filled with the boy’s gleeful laughter and wordless cries of delight.

Nan Jinping didn’t rush him, waiting patiently. Eventually, the old man gently reminded the boy to return the kaleidoscope.

Obediently, though reluctant, he showed no greed as the child handed it back.

"Thank you, brother!" His voice was clear now, none of his earlier fear remained.

"You’re welcome. And thank *you*."

"Then I’ll say ‘you’re welcome’ too!" Having seen the kaleidoscope, the boy now knew Nan Jinping wasn’t a scary person like the stern-faced man, and his fear vanished.

Nan Jinping had to laugh.

"Young master, is that kaleidoscope still for rent?" a man asked.

"No, not wanting any more trouble," Nan Jinping replied.

The man sighed in frustration, "I was next in line, but then a young woman cut ahead of me and caused such a commotion, making me miss this chance. Who knows if I'll ever get another opportunity to see it again."

Nan Jinping simply smiled.

Bing Wengu didn’t want an unrelated person to ruin Nan Jinping’s mood. "Good timing—let’s keep walking around. The Grand Xiangguo Temple is packed right now."

"Sounds good."

Bing Wengu and the others strolled around the Grand Xiangguo Temple, and indeed, the place was lively.

Along the way, they came across a vendor selling twin lotus buds, and Bing Wengu bought one for Nan Jinping.

These weren’t actual double-headed lotuses but rather freshly picked lotus buds crafted into a festival trinket for Qixi.

Nan Jinping adored these little items. Back in the village, he had never seen such things before, so everything now seemed fascinating. When Bing Wengu bought it for him, he clutched it, fiddling with it.

Further ahead, there were vendors selling fruit-shaped sweets and sculpted melons. Bing Wengu bought one of each.

The sculpted melons were melons carved into various intricate patterns, quite novel. As for the fruit-shaped sweets, they were made from oil, flour, sugar, and candied fruits, shaped into smiling baby faces.

With these two snacks in hand, Nan Jinping needed to eat and thus couldn’t juggle the twin lotus and the kaleidoscope. Jiang Jinghuai’s eyes lit up at the sight. "Jin Geer, I’ll take the kaleidoscope."

Nan Jinping refused him outright. "Wen Gu, you hold it for me."

Bing Wengu gave Jiang Jinghuai a look, smirking, which made Jiang Jinghuai roll his eyes in exasperation.

Further along, they encountered vendors selling floating wax figurines and tiny diorama farms—both incredibly amusing.

The floating wax figurines were crafted by molding yellow wax into shapes like mandarin ducks, wild geese, herons, turtles, and fish, then painted or carved for decoration.

The tiny diorama farms were made by spreading soil over a wooden plank, planting grains to sprout seedlings, then arranging tiny thatched cottages, plants, and miniature figurines of farmers to create a miniature village.

Nan Jinping particularly loved these toy-like miniatures, so Bing Wengu bought one for him.

Bing Wengu now carried the tiny diorama farm in one hand, the kaleidoscope and twin lotus in the other, along with some snacks—like a husband dutifully carrying his wife’s haul. And Bing Wengu was quite pleased with it; he didn’t mind holding things for Nan Jinping at all.

It was just that his little husband was still overly cautious. These items cost pocket change, and though he liked them, he’d never splurge on them himself.

Bing Wengu felt deeply that he needed to earn money—he couldn’t wait until after passing the imperial exams. Otherwise, his little husband would keep denying himself even small pleasures.

With this thought, his gaze fell on the kaleidoscope, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Jiang Jinghuai. Instantly, Bing Wengu knew he’d found his mark.

They wandered until late into the night, and only when Nan Jinping was nodding off did the group decide to return.

On the way back, Bing Wengu and Nan Jinping rode in the same carriage with Jiang Jinghuai and Shen Qinghe.

"Be careful these days," Jiang Jinghuai warned. "That Mrs. Mei earlier is the eldest daughter of the Right Chancellor’s household. Her younger sister, Third Sister Mei, is the Imperial Consort Shu in the palace, a favorite of the Emperor. Both sisters are known for their flashy temperaments."

Shen Qinghe refrained from criticizing the imperial consort but spoke of Mrs. Mei’s reputation. "Mrs. Mei is infamous in Bianjing for her domineering nature. Not long ago, she divorced her husband, claiming they didn’t get along."

Jiang Jinghuai grew indignant at the mention. "Anyone in the know understands the real reason her husband divorced her was because Mrs. Mei was too cruel. She couldn’t tolerate her husband taking a concubine, so she gouged the concubine’s face with scissors—and that wasn’t the end of it. When she discovered the concubine was pregnant, she ordered servants to beat her until she miscarried. Her husband couldn’t take it anymore and chose to divorce her, even at the cost of his career. After the divorce, he—a minor official in Bianjing—was banished to some backwater county as a lowly magistrate, likely never to return to the capital."

"This Mrs. Mei is truly tyrannical," Nan Jinping murmured, now worried. "Da Lang, did I just land you in hot water?"

He blamed himself. "If only I hadn’t been greedy for that bit of silver..."

Bing Wengu took Nan Jinping’s hand without hesitation. "Husband, do as you please. We only live once—why not live it up? What’s the point of a life spent second-guessing?"

Nan Jinping shook his head.

"Darling, one should make waves in life. You just don't cause enough drama. If you raised legendary-level chaos—shaking the realms to their core—those who want to cross you would be too scared to even breathe in your direction. They'd fear your very name."

Bing Wengu deadpanned, "The trouble you cause isn't big enough. Make it bigger, make the gods take notice. Then that so-called Mrs. Mei wouldn’t dare start shit with us—she’d flee at the mere mention of your name. So, you see, your mischief isn’t grand enough yet."

This had always been Bing Wengu’s philosophy. He despised people who crossed him and Nan Jinping. Fighting the Swarm was exhausting enough, yet those old aristocrats sitting on their gilded thrones still found time to start shit for him.

How could Bing Wengu tolerate that?

If it’s shit they want, then shit they’ll get. Who couldn’t play that game? Let’s all raise hell and see who does it best.

Unlike those cautious old men, Bing Wengu didn’t hesitate—he caused uproars, shook the heavens, and within three rounds, those elders would piss themselves, too terrified to provoke him again.

Eventually, just the news of Bing Wengu returning to the capital planet was enough to make his enemies halt their schemes mid-stride, afraid he’d intervene.

Every time Bing Wengu returned, the capital became suspiciously peaceful, as if everyone had suddenly turned into one big, loving family.

Bing Wengu thought that was perfect.

Nan Jinping’s worldview was shaped entirely by Bing Wengu. His parents, struggling to put food on the table, had no time to teach him anything.

After years under Bing Wengu’s influence, Nan Jinping had inevitably absorbed some of his warped worldview, though occasionally, he sensed something wasn’t quite right.

When Nan Jinping gave him a doubtful look, Bing Wengu said, "Remember the story of Sun Wukong I told you? See how much chaos he caused, shaking the Three Realms. After that, who dared cross him? Everyone feared his mischief. So, the best way to stop others from messing with you is to out-mischief them—make them fear you, not the other way around."

Nan Jinping nodded, finding some truth in his words.

Jiang Jinghuai couldn’t take it anymore. "Bing Yuanting, you’re completely unhinged! Even my grandfather, a legendary battlefield commander, never taught us such arrogance—at most, he warned us not to start shit but not to fear it either. Look at you, playing god!"

Bing Wengu smirked. "And yet, Mrs. Mei still dares to mess with you. Clearly, your approach doesn’t work."

Jiang Jinghuai was silenced—most of his life’s silences were wasted on Bing Wengu.

"The way you teach him, it’s a miracle Jin Geer hasn’t turned into a menace to society. I suppose he’s just naturally kind-hearted."

Nan Jinping disliked anyone criticizing Bing Wengu and quickly defended, "Wen Gu has excellent character. If you knew him better, you’d understand."

Jiang Jinghuai looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. "Fine, fine. Your lovebirds are inseparable. I’m just a meddling fool."

"But Jin Geer, if you two are so close, why do you always call him by his given name, never his courtesy name?"

This had always puzzled Jiang Jinghuai. Even among close friends or classmates, courtesy names were customary—only strangers or distant acquaintances used given names. Yet this rule didn’t apply to Nan Jinping and Bing Wengu, who might as well be wearing matching signs.

"Wen Gu’s courtesy name was given by his academy teacher, but that teacher treated him poorly," Nan Jinping explained, though fragments of dreams—more convincing than Bing Wengu’s reasoning—flashed in his mind. He fell silent, lost in thought.

"I see," Jiang Jinghuai nodded sympathetically. "Out of respect for teachers, changing it would be improper. But hearing others use a name given by someone who mistreated you must stick in your craw."

"Should I start calling you by your given name too, then?"

"No need." Bing Wengu’s double standards were blatant. "Only my darling calls me that. The rest of you can address me however you like."

"Great. Just great." Jiang Jinghuai slow-clapped with mock awe, biting back hysterical laughter.

Shen Qinghe, far more level-headed, reined in the chaos. "If Mrs. Mei causes trouble, send Ping'an to inform me. My father has good relations with several censors—at the very least, we can keep the wolves at bay."

Nan Jinping bowed with genuine thanks. "Thank you, Qing He."

Bing Wengu’s gaze went arctic, a cold smile playing on his lips. "If she knows when to stop, so be it. Otherwise, I’ll make sure she wishes she'd never been born."

"Bing Yuanting, where does he get the nerve to be so arrogant?" It wasn't that Jiang Jinghuai looked down on Bing Wengu—this farm boy from the countryside hadn't even firmly established his footing in the capital, yet he already dared to challenge the Right Chancellor, who held the emperor's favor and wielded real power. Where does he get the nerve?

Bing Wengu's expression turned icy. "Try me!"

For a moment, Jiang Jinghuai and Shen Qinghe were genuinely intimidated by Bing Wengu's aura, half-convinced that even the Right Chancellor would suffer greatly if he crossed him.

But upon reflection, they realized how absurd that thought was.

"Kingly aura! Forget everything else—just this kingly aura of yours has me convinced! You outdo even me in putting on a show. Compared to you, my official title might as well be fake."

Bing Wengu merely smirked, utterly indifferent. He meant every word—if Mrs. Mei let things go, the smack he gave her would serve as her lesson. But if she persisted, he’d make her regret it deeply.

For a moment, a chilling aura seemed to radiate from Bing Wengu.

The group moved on to small talk instead.

When the carriage arrived at the Bing residence, Bing Wengu stepped out first, then turned to help Nan Jinping down.

Jiang Jinghuai hopped out after. "Bing Yuanting, could you make me a kaleidoscope too? I’ll provide the colored glaze—and I’ll even pay you 100 guan as a crafting fee. What do you say?"

Jiang Jinghuai genuinely adored kaleidoscopes. He felt he wouldn’t sleep well tonight without one.

Bing Wengu coldly refused. "No time—I’ve got the provincial exams next month."

Jiang Jinghuai’s eyes lit up with a scheme. "My mom’s birthday is in September. I’ll invite you—just don’t forget to bring a gift. Anything too cheap won’t impress her, but a kaleidoscope would be perfect. If you lack materials, just ask. I don’t mind if the gift comes from our own household."

Bing Wengu glanced at Shen Qinghe, still seated in the carriage, and suddenly smiled—a smile that sent chills down Jiang Jinghuai’s spine.

"How about this? If I outrank your cousin again in the provincial exams, making him the perpetual second-place finisher, then I’ll gift your mom the kaleidoscope for her birthday." Bing Wengu taunted, "So, pray to Buddha that I take first place while your cousin remains second."

"Bing Yuanting! I knew it—whenever you smile at anyone besides Jin Geer, it’s always trouble!" Jiang Jinghuai howled. "You’re a real piece of work! This is a straight-up trap, deliberately driving a wedge between me and my cousin!"

Shen Qinghe snorted. "Bing Yuanting, don’t count your chickens. This time, you’ll be the one in second place."

"We’ll see." Bing Wengu shrugged indifferently and led Nan Jinping inside.

After returning, Jiang Jinghuai and Shen Qinghe naturally recounted their encounter with Mrs. Mei to their respective elders.

Marquis Jiang chuckled lightly. "Youth truly knows no fear. Let’s hope Bing Wengu lives up to his audacity!"

"Bing Yuanting isn’t just audacious—he’s downright insane. Grandfather, I may be considered a prodigy myself, born into a marquis’s household, favored by the emperor since childhood, and accustomed to the imperial court. Even with my background, I wouldn’t dare confront the Right Chancellor head-on. Where does Bing Yuanting, a backwater nobody, get the nerve to spout such arrogance?"

Marquis Jiang shook his head. "Throughout history, there have been only two kinds of arrogant men: those with no real ability, merely full of empty bluster, and those with true talent—like Zhuge Liang. The question is, which is he?"

Jiang Jinghuai scoffed. "If Bing Yuanting had even a fraction of Zhuge Liang’s brilliance, he’d have already made a name for himself."

Yet both grandfather and grandson forgot that Zhuge Liang was only twenty-seven when he rose to prominence—while Bing Wengu was merely twenty-four now.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Mei returned to the chancellor’s residence fuming. The more she thought about it, the angrier she grew, shattering a few pricey trinkets in frustration—yet the rage still burned in her chest.

When Zhao Shi, Mrs. Mei’s mother, heard her daughter had returned, she came to check on her—only to find the room in disarray.

Frowning, Zhao Shi asked, "Who upset my child?"

Honglian, ever the opportunist, recounted the events in detail—with plenty of embellishments, painting Bing Wengu and his husband in the worst light while portraying Mrs. Mei as entirely innocent.

Mrs. Mei threw herself into Zhao Shi’s arms, fake-sobbing. "Mother, you must have my back!"

"What bastards! Did these hicks not know my daughter is the Right Chancellor’s wife?"

"Of course they knew! The two young masters from the Marquis's residence and the Secretariat Drafter's residence were both present at the time and immediately revealed the lady's background. Yet those two still acted like complete jerks," Hong Lian continued.

"Those damn reckless hicks!" Zhao Shi fumed angrily. "Go and summon Fu Gui for me!"

Gritting her teeth, Zhao Shi said to Hong Lian, "I must make those two bumpkins understand who can be offended and who must never, ever mess with!"

"Yes, madam," Hong Lian hurried out and soon returned with a burly man—none other than the head thug employed by the Right Chancellor's household.

"How may I serve you, my lady?" Fu Gui bowed respectfully to Mrs. Mei, keeping his head lowered from the moment he entered, not daring to glance up.

Zhao Shi issued a cold command, "Find those two bumpkins who offended my daughter today. I must teach them a harsh lesson they'll never forget—one that will make sure they keep their eyes peeled next time so they don’t mess with the wrong people!"

Turning to Mrs. Mei, Zhao Shi asked, "I've brought Fu Gui for you. How do you want him to deal with those two to make them pay? Just give the orders."

Mrs. Mei replied venomously, "Have Shuang Er's face slashed—let’s see if that man will still fancy him once he’s turned into an ugly freak. As for the man, cripple his hands. With ruined hands, let’s see if he can still sit for the imperial exams. He’ll regret ever crossing me today."

Fu Gui felt a cold sweat. The woman seated above was truly ruthless, striking to destroy a man’s future in one blow.

But Fu Gui dared not object. After all, this was the daughter of the Right Chancellor and the niece of the imperial consort. Anyone who provoked such a bully with this much power could only be called unlucky.

"As you command," Fu Gui acknowledged and turned to leave.