Chapter 82: Night Visit to the Right Chancellor’s Residence, Caught the Sage’s Eye? Or Displeased the Sage…

Chapter 82: Sneaking into the Right Chancellor's Estate at Night—In the Emperor's Good Graces...Or Out of Them?

Bing Wengu wore a faint smile, but his eyes were terrifyingly cold, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes.

"This humble official doesn't know the meaning of 'regret,'" Bing Wengu said, raising his wine cup in a toast to the Right Chancellor. "I only hope Your Excellency shares this sentiment."

"You..." The Right Chancellor narrowed his eyes, his anger turning into a cold laugh. "Still clinging to your pride, I see."

Bing Wengu downed his cup, then turned it upside down. "Your Excellency surely has more important matters. This humble official will take his leave first."

With that, he turned to toast at another table. The Right Chancellor watched his retreating figure, his eyes burning with barely-contained rage.

"For the sake of that worthless Shuang Er, you rejected my daughter. I will make sure you regret it with every last gasp!"

Bing Wengu returned to his seat with his wine cup, meeting Shen Qinghe's slightly worried gaze. He gave a barely-there head shake.

Bing Wengu made no attempt to network at the palace banquet. Everyone knew that as the top-ranked scholar in the imperial examinations, he was the first in the dynasty to be assigned a post outside the capital by the Emperor. With such obvious disfavor, only an idiot would be caught dead with him.

Knowing where he stood, Bing Wengu had no intention of humiliating himself further.

Seated quietly, he weighed his options instead of currying favor.

The Emperor, seated at the head of the hall, appeared to be engaged in cheerful conversation with his close ministers. In truth, he missed nothing, watching everything. Naturally, he paid special attention to Bing Wengu, the first top scholar he had ever sent away from the capital.

As the banquet drew to a close and the guests grew merry with drink, the Emperor announced its conclusion.

Just as the Emperor was about to leave, however, Bing Wengu suddenly stepped forward.

"Your Majesty, this humble official, Magistrate of Ji County, has a matter to report." His abrupt action sent a ripple through the assembled officials, drawing all eyes toward him—some assessing, some hostile, and some merely curious.

The Emperor's eyes showed brief surprise before he turned to face Bing Wengu. "Speak your piece."

Bing Wengu bowed respectfully. "First, I humbly request Your Majesty's permission to review past records concerning Ji County—its current population, arable land, drought conditions, taxation, and other relevant details."

The Emperor undoubtedly possessed such detailed information, while Bing Wengu was wholly uninformed. He'd be sunk if he showed up clueless with his imminent departure to assume office.

Since the Emperor had assigned him this post, he would seek directly.

But Bing Wengu's calculated test wasn't merely for practical reasons. Behind its apparent recklessness lay a deliberate probe—a measure of the Emperor's true attitude.

If the Emperor refused or gave only a perfunctory response, it would confirm his indifference toward Ji County and his disdain for Bing Wengu.

If the Emperor granted the request, however, the implications would be entirely different.

It would mean the Emperor still cared about Ji County and hadn't abandoned it. As long as the Emperor hadn't given up on Ji County, whether he truly despised Bing Wengu or not was irrelevant.

If Bing Wengu could achieve results in Ji County, there would still be room for redemption. But if the Emperor had truly forsaken Ji County, indifferent to its suffering, then Bing Wengu would have to reconsider his loyalty to such a ruler.

The Emperor's eyes gleamed with approval, and his tone softened. "Our top scholar learns fast."

Bing Wengu replied earnestly, "Thanks to Your Majesty's trust, this humble official will fulfill his duties with complete dedication."

"Complete dedication"—well phrased. It shall be granted. All relevant materials in Our possession will be delivered to your residence shortly."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. There is one more matter."

The Emperor inclined his head. "Proceed."

"Your Majesty, this humble official recently heard the Right Chancellor state that Jixian County has suffered three years of severe drought, resulting in no harvest and the people living in misery." Bing Wengu deliberately brought up the Right Chancellor, making it clear that these words came from him—not just casual remarks, but every syllable a veiled dig at the Right Chancellor, or rather, a subtle jab meant to irritate him.

Bing Wengu couldn’t accept that his unprecedented appointment as the top scholar and subsequent relegation from the capital was simply due to falling out of the Emperor's favor. If that were the case, why would the Emperor have personally selected him as the top scholar in the first place? Therefore, it must have been someone poisoning the Emperor’s ear about his appointment, leading to his banishment.

And who else could it be but the Right Chancellor?

Naturally, Bing Wengu meant to return the favor. Though these petty moves wouldn’t topple the Right Chancellor’s position, he wanted the Emperor to know that the Right Chancellor hadn’t driven him out of the capital out of mere disapproval—it was personal. Otherwise, why would the Right Chancellor, who had no prior dealings with him, suddenly bring up Jixian County? It was plainly a vindictive ploy to rub salt in his wounds.

The Right Chancellor had a deeply selfish streak. Whether this little move would leave any mark on the Emperor’s mind wasn’t Bing Wengu’s concern—he just needed to sow the doubt.

Bing Wengu continued as if casually mentioning it, "I humbly request Your Majesty to exempt Jixian County from taxes for five years and to grant disaster relief funds and grain. Otherwise, the people of Jixian will have no rice to eat, nor seeds to plant this year."

Far from taking offense at Bing Wengu’s audacious plea, the Emperor’s satisfaction only deepened.

"Our top scholar has swiftly grown into his role. I will take note of this matter and give you an answer in three days." The Emperor asked, "Does the top scholar have a third request?"

"Not for now," Bing Wengu replied with neither humility nor arrogance.

The Emperor nodded and left the banquet.

Once the Emperor was out of sight, the Right Chancellor glared coldly at Bing Wengu. "I underestimated the magistrate of Jixian County. He has quite the nerve!"

Bing Wengu knew the Right Chancellor was referring to his earlier exposure of the man’s spiteful motives before the Emperor.

He scoffed inwardly.

Did they take him for a pushover? If someone trampled all over him, was he just supposed to take it?

Bing Wengu cupped his hands toward the Right Chancellor, feigning ignorance of the sarcasm. "I thank Your Excellency for your praise."

"Impudent whelp! We’ll see how far your talents take you in that backwater. Don’t come crying when it’s too late." With that, the Right Chancellor flung his sleeves and stormed off.

No sooner had the Right Chancellor left than a man strolled leisurely to Bing Wengu’s side and gave his shoulder a light pat. "Young man, I commend your boldness. I hope to see you again in this court before I retire. I have high hopes for you—don’t disappoint me."

Bing Wengu bowed. "I shall strive tirelessly."

The man departed, and the other officials gradually followed, none speaking another word to Bing Wengu.

"That was the Left Chancellor," Shen Qinghe said as he joined Bing Wengu, and the two exited the palace together. Outside, Shen Qinghe looked at Bing Wengu with a complicated expression. "You’ve got gall, halting the Emperor mid-banquet. Did fear not grip you?"

Shen Qinghe had nearly been scared to death by Bing Wengu’s audacity. While Bing Wengu remained unfazed, Shen Qinghe’s palms were slick with sweat.

"What of it? Just two requests. Had the Emperor refused, so be it. Why wouldn’t I dare ask?"

"You..." Shen Qinghe shook his head. "That’s the Emperor! You can’t just act recklessly in front of him—every word and action must be measured. Jinghuai forever branded you a madman, and I never quite saw it before. But now I see he was not mistaken in the least. You really are a brazen eccentric."

Meanwhile, inside the palace, the Emperor sat while the Crown Prince stood.

Abruptly, the Emperor let out a chuckle. The Crown Prince asked, "What amuses you, Father?"

The Emperor glanced at him. "Don’t you think our new top scholar, the magistrate of Jixian County, is an interesting man?"

The Crown Prince recalled Bing Wengu’s bold interruption and mused, "He is rash—nay, not rash, but a true madman."

"Rash" might have been the more fitting term, but the Crown Prince felt it didn’t quite suit Bing Wengu. Rather than rash, he was more of a brazen eccentric.

The Emperor laughed. "You see it too. He is indeed insolent. Even after I relegated him from the capital, seemingly in disgrace, he still dared to make not one but two requests. And on top of that, he subtly accused the Right Chancellor. That’s no ordinary nerve—nor his refusal to swallow the slightest insult."

"The son truly didn't expect the magistrate of Ji County to possess such audacity. I doubt even the Right Chancellor anticipated it. I saw the Right Chancellor's face turn quite grim at the time."

The Emperor nodded. "The recklessness of youth—our magistrate of Ji County embodies these words perfectly. Yet such temperament is rare. Faced with such adversity, he neither panicked nor lost composure, even finding the presence of mind to seek solutions and retaliate. Such strategic thinking—if I hadn't investigated his background beforehand, I would never have believed he came from a farming family. Even the sons of noble households in the capital, raised with the full resources of their clans, lack this level of shrewdness."

"That child from the Shen family is reputed for his talent, yet I noticed just now that he doesn’t possess half the temperament of the Ji County magistrate. The Shen family’s younger generation lags behind in both scholarship and character."

"Father, since you hold this zhuangyuan in such high regard, why did you agree to the Right Chancellor’s request to assign him to a place like Ji County? You know how desperate the situation is there—the people are few, and nearly all who could flee have already done so. I thought you truly disliked him because of the things he and his wife did, hence exiling him!"

"If you know I favor him, you should understand that gaining Our favor is no trivial matter. Without real capability, why should he deserve Our regard?"

Hearing this, the Crown Prince realized this was the Emperor’s test for the new top graduate. If he passed, his ascent would be unstoppable. If not—well, there simply wouldn’t be a future.

"As for these writings by our new zhuangyuan and his wife..." The Emperor’s gaze fell upon the imperial desk, where two folk tales and a critique written by Nan Jinping lay. "It depends on how far their own abilities can take them."

"Father, are you not angered?" The Crown Prince was astonished. "I’ve read them too—they’re filled with words encouraging Shuang Er and young women to rebel."

The Crown Prince had expected the Emperor to be furious, as many were enraged by such upsetting of the natural hierarchy.

The Emperor, however, let out a mirthless laugh. "Crown Prince, never underestimate anyone. Young women and Shuang Er are people too—when oppressed, they will naturally resist. Some may have their spines broken under pressure, while others grow only more rebellious, refusing to yield unless they're dead."

The Crown Prince was so shocked he lost his composure. He hadn’t expected the Emperor not only to refrain from condemning such rebellion but to seemingly admire it. "Father?"

The Emperor said, "Crown Prince, you’ve experienced too little. Throughout history, change is inevitable. As rulers, we neither suppress nor praise it—we observe silently and let events unfold naturally. If the time is ripe, we support it. If it fails, we erase it. As for whether the reforms sought by this zhuangyuan and his wife will succeed, that depends entirely on their abilities."

Suppressing his shock, the Crown Prince lowered his head in contemplation, and the hall fell into silence.

After an unknown length of time, the Emperor suddenly spoke first. "Crown Prince, regarding the Right Chancellor and Consort Shu... I know you’ve suffered much injustice. I’ve wronged Consort Shu."

At the mention of the Right Chancellor and Consort Shu, the Crown Prince immediately wiped all expression from his face, becoming as still as a stone-faced statue, revealing no emotion.

"Back when I was not yet Emperor, but merely an ordinary Crown Prince, I fell into a trap set by my brothers. On my way back to the capital after an assignment, I was ambushed. It was Consort Shu—then great with child—and the Right Chancellor who diverted the assassins, allowing me to escape. But Consort Shu lost her first child because of saving me. I owe her deeply."

The Emperor spoke with difficulty. "All these years later, whenever I stay with Consort Shu, I still hear her cry out the name of that child in her nightmares. I owe her deeply. In truth, she has never moved past this. She doesn’t speak of it, but I know. I’ve wronged her. So if Consort Shu or the Right Chancellor ever overstep, as long as it’s not treason... I ask you, Crown Prince, for my sake and your deceased brother’s, not to hold it against them."

The Crown Prince replied impassively, "I will remember, Father."

Outside the palace, Shen Qinghe and Bing Wengu had yet to part when Jiang Jinghuai, having changed out of his court robes, caught up with them.

Shen Qinghe exclaimed in surprise, "Jinghuai, what are you doing here? Aren't you on duty today?"

Jiang Jinghuai glanced at Bing Wengu. "I just learned something about Yuan Ting from Grandfather. Let’s discuss it at his place."

The three fell silent in tacit agreement, boarding the Shen family carriage and returning to the Bing residence.

When Nan Jinping saw Jiang Jinghuai and Shen Qinghe enter with solemn faces, her stomach dropped. As for Bing Wengu, whose face betrayed nothing, she ignored him—she knew he could remain impassive even if Mount Tai collapsed before him. Unless he willed it, no one could glean anything from his expression.

"Did anything unexpected happen at the palace banquet?" Nan Jinping asked.

Shen Qinghe and Jiang Jinghuai exchanged glances, neither speaking.

Bing Wengu stated matter-of-factly, "Nothing major. I simply wasn't given a capital posting. The Emperor appointed me magistrate of Ji County."

"And you call that nothing major? Jin Geer, you don’t know what kind of place Ji County is! It’s suffered three years of drought already, and according to the Imperial Observatory, the drought may continue. Do you know what that means? It means one misstep, and Yuan Ting’s career ends there. All those years of burning the midnight oil—wasted. The zhuangyuan title, meaningless. He could end up stripped of rank and criminalized. And that outcome is almost certain."

Nan Jinping gasped, her face turning ashen.

Bing Wengu quickly grasped Nan Jinping's hand and said discontentedly, "Jiang Jinghuai, why are you scaring my partner? Why don't you mention that if I perform well, I might gain the Emperor's favor and rise through the ranks quickly?"

Shen Qinghe and Jiang Jinghuai nearly laughed in frustration. "Bing Yuanting, at a time like this, can you stop being so arrogant and be realistic about yourself? Even without the drought, Ji County is a poor, remote backwater. It's been impoverished for centuries—who do you think you are, the God of Wealth? Do you really believe you can transform Ji County overnight? Stop dreaming. Are you saying all the previous magistrates of Ji County were inferior to a country boy like you?"

"What do you know? If I can't do it, isn't my spouse here? He's a good luck charm—how could he fail to turn around a small county like Ji County?"

"You..." Shen Qinghe and Jiang Jinghuai were at a loss for words. At such a critical moment, Bing Wengu still had the mood to spout nonsense.

Jiang Jinghuai gave up. "Fine, I won't argue with you—you won't listen anyway. Let me tell you something serious. Do you know who orchestrated your reassignment? It was the Right Chancellor."

Bing Wengu nodded. He had guessed as much.

"You're not surprised at all? You figured it out?" Jiang Jinghuai asked.

Shen Qinghe immediately interjected, "What happened when the Right Chancellor invited you to his residence that day?"

"He wanted me to marry his daughter, and I flat-out refused."

Hearing the words "flat-out refused," Jiang Jinghuai knew it couldn't have been that simple. Coming from Bing Wengu, such phrasing meant his rejection must have been exceptionally harsh.

"You... that mouth of yours..." Jiang Jinghuai sighed in frustration.

"Any refusal would have the same outcome. I already have a partner—how could I agree?"

Jiang Jinghuai was momentarily speechless. That was true.

"Anyone else might have yielded to the Right Chancellor, but you? Impossible. Just look at how you gaze at Jin Geer—it's like spun sugar, sticky enough to weave spiderwebs. How could you bear to part with him? Honestly, the Right Chancellor has good taste—you treat your partner so well, you'd make a fine son-in-law. Too bad you're already someone else's devoted spouse."

Bing Wengu showed no embarrassment at Jiang Jinghuai's teasing—in fact, he looked rather pleased. This left Jiang Jinghuai and Shen Qinghe with nothing more to say.

"Since you already know the Right Chancellor is behind this, I won't say more." Jiang Jinghuai said.

Shen Qinghe was eager to return home and discuss matters with his family. His sudden appointment as Assistant Director of the Imperial Academy meant their previous plans had to be revised.

Bing Wengu saw them off. Just before parting, while Nan Jinping wasn't paying attention, he asked, "What reason did the Right Chancellor use to persuade the Emperor?"

Jiang Jinghuai glanced at Nan Jinping, and Bing Wengu immediately said, "Never mind, I understand. Don't tell my partner."

Jiang Jinghuai paused, then replied, "Yuan Ting, your insight is truly remarkable. Without a single word from me, you deduced everything from just a look. I admire your character even more—knowing you've been implicated because of Jin Geer, yet not only do you not blame him, you protect him at once, ensuring he remains unaware and guilt-free."

Bing Wengu frowned. "You're making me sound too noble. I'm just doing what any partner should. Besides, how can I blame my partner for implicating me? Without my guidance and help, those storybooks would never have spread so widely. Since most of it was my doing, how can I shift the blame onto him when trouble arises?"

Jiang Jinghuai studied Bing Wengu's eyes intently and found no evasion—he truly meant every word. This sincerity made his devotion all the more rare.

How many in this world treat their partners with such complete devotion? How many are truly steadfast in their love?

Yet Bing Wengu, despite his sharp intellect, maintained such pure emotions. It touched Jiang Jinghuai deeply.

He patted Bing Wengu's shoulder. "Yuan Ting, no matter what happens to your career, your unwavering love for Jin Geer has convinced me—you're a friend worth keeping."

The three parted ways. Jiang Jinghuai and Shen Qinghe returned to the Shen residence, where Elder Marquis Jiang was also present.

After Shen Qinghe recounted everything, Elder Marquis Jiang sighed. "Bing Wengu's path is effectively ruined. I had hoped to groom him as a right-hand man for Qing He and you."

Shen Qinghe's father lamented, "What a pity for this new top graduate. His talent, courage, and temperament are all outstanding. Even under pressure at the palace banquet, he remained composed and responded quickly. With such ability, he could have turned things around—if only it weren't Ji County, that dead-end place. What a waste..."

At the Bing residence, Nan Jinping asked worriedly, "What about Ji County, Wengu?"

Bing Wengu held her hand and said, "I already petitioned the Emperor for tax exemption and disaster relief funds. If His Majesty won’t abandon Ji County, he will surely agree. With funds and grain, Ji County will have seeds to plant this year. I’ll figure out other ways—we’ll make it through this year, and things will improve after the autumn harvest."

At this point, there was nothing else to be done. Nan Jinping then asked, "What about the Right Chancellor?"

Bing Wengu’s eyes flashed dangerously. "Love, I’ll handle this myself. Keep things under wraps here."

"Alright."

Bing Wengu decided to slip into the Right Chancellor’s residence under cover of night.

That evening, Bing Wengu changed into dark attire and slipped into the tightly guarded Right Chancellor’s estate.

The guards were vigilant, rotating shifts and patrolling punctually.

However, none of this could stop Bing Wengu. Upon arriving, he didn’t act rashly but instead hid and extended his spiritual awareness, probing every corner of the estate.

He mapped a rough layout of the estate in his mind—just the basic arrangement of buildings and guard patrols.

The layout was too basic. If assassination or poisoning were the goal, it would have sufficed to evade the patrols. But he was here to find evidence of the Right Chancellor’s collusion with the imperial princes—likely documents like letters—which required deeper spiritual investigation.

It drained his energy and took time. Nevertheless, Bing Wengu remained patient, meticulously scouring the estate for finer details.

He started with the Right Chancellor’s private study, searching every inch.

There, he discovered the Right Chancellor’s hidden chamber—a vault stocked with gold, silver, jade, antiques, and paintings, though modest by a minister’s standards.

Bing Wengu realized this was likely just one of the Right Chancellor’s many stashes. His real fortune had to be far larger.

This stash alone wouldn’t be enough to convince the Emperor to punish the Right Chancellor.

Bing Wengu continued searching for letters and found a few—correspondence with Consort Shu and the Fourth Prince—but they contained just ordinary chatter.

Though Consort Shu frequently complained about the Empress, disrespect dripping from her words, it meant nothing. She had even openly slighted the Empress in the Emperor’s presence before and gotten away with it.

The Right Chancellor was a cautious man. Bing Wengu found no incriminating letters in the study.

By now, a full day and night had passed, and Bing Wengu had only thoroughly searched the study and the treasury cellar.

The estate was vast. If he examined every room with such care, time would run out.

This approach wasn’t working. After a moment of contemplation, Bing Wengu decided to shift his focus to Mrs. Mei.

Slipping out of hiding, he leaped onto the rooftops with agile movements. Pressed flat against the roof tiles, blending into the night, he ensured the patrolling guards wouldn’t spot him before quietly lifting a tile to peer inside.

Here, Bing Wengu refrained from using his spiritual awareness—having exhausted much of his energy in the study, he conserved what little remained.

By sheer coincidence, Mrs. Mei was preparing to bathe, having already stripped bare, one foot raised as she stepped into the water.

Bing Wengu averted his gaze at the sight of her bare thigh. Yet, something felt off. He snapped his head back, staring intently at Mrs. Mei.

Once he confirmed what he sought, a cold smirk curled his lips. He leaped from the roof, vanishing like a shadow, his spiritual awareness receding like a tide.

Inside his bedchamber, the Right Chancellor sensed something unusual. He turned to Zhao Shi and asked, "Do you feel anything strange?"

Zhao Shi was taking off her makeup and paid no mind to the Right Chancellor's words. "What's wrong? What could possibly be wrong in our own home?"

"Don't you feel as if countless eyes are watching us from the shadows?"

Zhao Shi eyed the Right Chancellor suspiciously. "What kind of crazy talk is this now? Are you losing it again?"

"Something isn't right." The Right Chancellor glanced around before abruptly rising from the bed. He grabbed a robe and threw it on haphazardly, then swung the door open and called out, "Fu Gui! Where is Fu Gui?"

Fu Gui hurried over at the Right Chancellor's summons. "What does my lord require?"

"Has there been anything unusual in the residence lately?"

Fu Gui shook his head. "Nothing out of the ordinary has been noticed."

The Right Chancellor frowned. "Have any new people been hired?"

"A few new cleaning servants have been brought in."

A cold glint flashed in the Right Chancellor's eyes. "Find an excuse to have them all killed."

The Right Chancellor couldn't shake this nagging feeling that something was amiss—an inexplicable sensation of being watched. This feeling had only begun yesterday, and he didn't know if it was related to the new hires. But the Right Chancellor was always a cautious man, adhering to the principle of better to kill a hundred innocents than let one guilty slip away. He resolved to eliminate them all to nip any potential threats in the bud.

"Yes," Fu Gui acknowledged.

Still uneasy, the Right Chancellor added, "Also, increase patrols within the residence. Ensure not so much as a fly gets in or out unnoticed."

"Yes," Fu Gui accepted the order and departed. The Right Chancellor's residence went on high alert with doubled patrols and round-the-clock watch.

Meanwhile, Bing Wengu had already withdrawn his spiritual energy and left the Right Chancellor's residence. He wrote a letter, disguising his handwriting, and pinned it to the door of the Left Chancellor's residence. After knocking on the gate, he hid in the shadows.