Chapter 118: Master Wuwei, The Children’s First Lesson

Chapter 118: Master Wuwei – The Children's First Day of School

"What? Go to the county school to study, and not only is it free, but they’ll also give us money?"

Cong Lin led the yamen officers to the village to spread the news, and one villager asked.

"It’s not just handing out money. Only those who score in the top ranks in the county school exams can get this money."

The villager clearly didn’t listen to Cong Lin’s words, only hearing the word "money."

"Will they really give it out later?"

Cong Lin grew angry and said with some irritation, "This is Lord Bing's personal promise! Our Lord Bing is the finest official in the world—why would he stiff you over something so small? Do you even know how much money the county school spends daily, let alone anything else?"

Seeing Cong Lin’s anger, the villager didn’t dare to speak.

The village chief said, "Alright, alright, enough with the back-and-forth. Whatever Lord Bing promises you, he’ll surely deliver. Instead of worrying about that, you should worry about whether your own children can even rank in the top three."

Cong Lin asked, "Anyone want to sign up?"

"I will, I will! Sign up every one of my boys."

Cong Lin directed the clerk to record, "Why are you only signing up boys? What about the girls and Shuang Er in your family?"

The villager scoffed, "Why bother schooling girls and Shuang Er? They’ll just marry off sooner or later. Better to have them help at home early, learn some skills, so when they marry into another family, they can handle household matters."

No one around objected to the villager’s words—in fact, they all seemed to agree.

Cong Lin lowered his head and saw several little girls staring eagerly, their childish eyes still bright with innocence, yet already tempered with maturity and resignation.

His chest tightened abruptly. In that moment, he finally understood why Bing Wengu was willing to spend vast sums of money and championed equality as his life's cause.

The gazes of these girls and Shuang Er were the best answer.

Cong Lin didn’t voice his thoughts, knowing these people would never understand.

He stuck to practicalities. "Oh, so the girls at home aren’t studying? Then for these seven boys, the tuition is a hundred coins each—seven hundred coins in total. Hand it over."

"What? Didn’t you just say studying was free? Why do we have to pay now?"

Cong Lin said calmly, "Lord Bing’s rule is plain: only if all girls and Shuang Er over six in the household attend school can the boys study for free. If the girls don’t study, then the boys must pay standard tuition."

The villager curled his lip and grumbled quietly, "What’s the use of girls studying? And now they even want Shuang Er to study?"

This was something Cong Lin couldn’t tolerate. His lord adored his husband, and since Cong Lin respected Bing Wengu, he naturally respected those Bing Wengu cared about.

"Lord Bing’s husband is a Shuang Er and a scholar. The storybook in the teahouse is written by his husband himself. Just one of his books brings in hundreds or even thousands of strings of cash—more than you’d earn in a lifetime."

Though the villager didn’t understand why girls and Shuang Er should study, he worshipped Bing Wengu. It was Bing Wengu who implemented artificial rainfall to save the people of Ji County—he was their god. They extended their respect to Nan Jinping too.

The villager immediately said, "How could a Shuang Er from a farming family compare to Nan Fulang? Nan Fulang comes from a noble family, born with a silver spoon."

"Nan Fulang and Lord Bing both came from farming families. In fact, before marrying Lord Bing, Nan Fulang couldn’t read—no different from you. But now he crafts refined literature, and even the sage himself praised his storybooks."

"How is that possible?"

"Straight from Lord Bing’s mouth."

The villager didn’t dare to question Bing Wengu but gave his daughters a doubtful look.

"Alright then, since Lord Bing says so, I don’t get it myself, but there must be a good reason. Might as well let these girls go study too."

The man's sister-in-law immediately interjected, "If you want to go, then send your own children. We don’t have any boys in our family, and my little girl won’t be going to study."

The villager looked troubled and turned to Cong Lin. "Sir, what’s the deal? Can my kids still go to school for free?"

Cong Lin nodded. "Lord Bing has considered this situation. It’s not per household—it’s per family branch."

The villager was delighted, while his sister-in-law sucked her teeth in annoyance. Her daughter, however, gazed enviously at her cousins. The girls who could now attend school jumped for joy.

The villager admonished the girls, "You must cherish this opportunity to study and work even harder, understand?"

The girls nodded solemnly.

Just then, an elderly woman pushed forward a shabbily dressed young Shuang Er.

Trembling with fear, the old woman said, "My lord, I just heard you say that Shuang Er can also study. Do you think my grandson could...?"

"Of course," Cong Lin replied immediately. "For Shuang Er and girls, regardless of whether their brothers or sisters attend school, tuition is waived."

The old woman quickly pushed the little Shuang Er toward Cong Lin, coughing anxiously. "Go with the lord, study hard, understand? Learning will always be useful. Granny ain’t expecting you to be some big shot like Nan Fulang—just put food on the table, that’s all I ask."

But the little Shuang Er clung tightly to the old woman’s sleeve. "I won’t leave! What will you do alone, Granny?"

The old woman coaxed, "You ain’t making a penny staying here. Better to go study. Lord Bing said the top scorer in the county exams gets ten strings of coins as a reward. If you really could be first, wouldn’t that be better than staying with me?"

The little Shuang Er wavered, then finally bit his lip and nodded. "Granny, don’t worry. I’ll definitely come in first."

The old lady was just humoring him, never actually believing her grandson could rank first. In truth, forcing her to send the kid away pained her, but they were flat broke.

The old woman had no children of her own. In her twilight years, she had found an abandoned infant on the roadside—a little Shuang Er, already near death. She had carried him home and raised him, scrounging for spoonfuls of rice porridge from one neighbor and bowls of water from another. Granny and the kid scraped by like this for years.

With no land to their name, the old woman relied on odd jobs to scrape by. Years of drought had drained their meager savings, leaving her no choice but to send the kid to school. Of course, she worried endlessly for him.

Plenty of families were in the same boat, but the conditions set by Lord Bing ensured that those who wanted their sons educated also sent their daughters.

Bing Wengu was pleased with the outcome.

Given the poor conditions in rural households, the children were often unhygienic. Bing Wengu had them all bathed and had all their hair shaved off, regardless of gender.

Some children, influenced by their parents' beliefs about preserving their hair as a filial duty, resisted. Bing Wengu lured them in with new uniforms, and they soon relented.

It wasn’t that Bing Wengu wanted the children to become monks or nuns—it was the damn lice—shaving was the only fix.

The children’s first lesson at the county school wasn’t reading or philosophy. Bing Wengu hauled them all to Nan Jinping’s teahouse to listen to storytelling.

His first lesson was equality—that men, women, and Shuang Er were all equal.

Staff from the experimental base and fields were also invited, a freebie from Bing Wengu, much to everyone’s delight.

This session featured Nan Jinping’s latest storybook, *The Tale of Yan Geer Taking a Husband*.

Once again, the hero was a Shuang Er, named Yan Geer. His original fate was tragic—played by some lowlife, he’d end up raising the jerk’s kid with some other woman.

But luckily, Dong Geer, now a ghost official, found Yan Geer first and warned him of this future.

Yan Geer, who couldn’t stand bullshit, swore to pay the bastard back tenfold, hell-bent on making him choke on the same misery.

Dong Geer transported the two into another small world, where the status of Shuang Er and women was completely reversed, holding supreme authority. The scumbag was now expected to serve his husband and raise children, treating his lord and wife as his highest authority.

At first, the scumbag couldn’t grasp the situation and even dared to shout at Yan Geer, still deluding himself into thinking he could order Yan Geer around as before.

But then Yan Geer put him in his place. Not only did no one intervene, but everyone blamed the scumbag, saying he deserved the beating for failing to serve Yan Geer properly.

Men were expected to uphold masculine virtues, study men's codes and restrictions, and stay at home, never venturing beyond the women's quarters.

Initially, the scumbag found it absurd. But later, when Yan Geer took in a concubine and doted on them, the concubine frequently bullied the scumbag. When he tearfully complained to his own parents, they scolded him instead, blaming him for not being beautiful or skilled enough to keep his lord’s favor, which was why Yan Geer had taken a concubine.

Under the daily brainwashing of those around him, the scumbag gradually changed. He began obsessing over his appearance, starving himself, and even tightly lacing his waist daily to achieve the slender willow-like figure Yan Geer favored. Eventually, he was reduced to skin and bones, and would ask everyone he met, "Am I beautiful? Am I pretty?"

When Yan Geer finally felt he had tormented the scumbag enough, he revealed the truth—this was all deliberate revenge. Had they not crossed into this small world, the scumbag’s current suffering would have been Yan Geer’s original fate. Upon hearing this, the scumbag completely lost his mind.

Dimension-hopping, rebirth, revenge, and punishing scumbags—all these elements combined made for a fresh and exhilarating tale.

Setting aside the external factors of male dominance and Shuang Er subjugation, the story was downright addictive. So much so that many who heard it couldn’t stop thinking about it, savoring its depth long after.

Bing Wengu made no attempt to hide. He stood openly at the entrance with Nan Jinping, ensuring everyone entering or leaving could see him.

Regardless of age or gender, everyone treated Bing Wengu with deep respect, especially the county school’s teachers, who led the children in greeting him.

A teacher bowed to Bing Wengu and Nan Jinping, saying, "My lord, Lord Bing."

Bing Wengu slightly raised his hand, signaling the teacher to rise, then said, "This is a teahouse. Today, my husband appears here as both the teahouse owner and the author of the storybook. You may address her as Madam Nan or *Wuwei*."

The teacher was taken aback.

In Dayong, married women and Shuang Er were typically addressed with their husband’s surname, so titles like "Husband's-Name's spouse" were commonplace. Yet Bing Wengu insisted they call Nan Jinping "Madam Nan" or "*Wuwei*."

Though it seemed like a minor adjustment in address, the implications were revolutionary.

It signified that Nan Jinping was an independent and complete individual.

After a brief moment of reflection, the teacher understood—Bing Wengu truly respected Nan Jinping, granting her an equal standing rather than treating her as a dependent.

Recalling the three story sessions they had just heard, the teacher could only marvel inwardly: Magistrate Bing was indeed a man of his word. His actions were never empty slogans but genuine, lived principles.

The teacher now knew how to address Nan Jinping properly. "Master Wuwei. My apologies for my earlier impropriety."

Nan Jinping quickly reassured him, "Think nothing of it, Teacher. It’s no great matter."

The teacher then had the children greet Nan Jinping again, this time addressing her as "Master Wuwei."

The moment the children called her "Master Wuwei," Nan Jinping felt something stir deep within her soul—as if, for the first time, her spirit stood independent, belonging solely to herself and no one else.

The impact lingered within Nan Jinping for a long time before she finally steadied herself. Watching the children buzz with excitement about the story as they left, she said to Wen Gu, "You’ve had the children listen to three of my storybooks in a row. Aren’t you worried about scarring the boys psychologically?"

"Better they learn young," Bing Wengu replied indifferently. "Fear is what keeps people in check. At the very least, these stories will teach the boys that mistreating their wives or lords could lead to harsh consequences. And it’ll show the girls and Shuang Er that they, too, can fight back—that life isn’t just about serving husbands and managing households."

Nan Jinping wasn’t the least bit surprised by Bing Wengu’s reasoning. This was the man who had once taught her that betrayal would leave her penniless. If Bing Wengu could be so ruthless toward herself, why spare other men?

The children, still young and less tainted by toxic traditions, would at least plant the seed in them to treat their future partners well.

As for the workers and farmers Bing Wengu employed—all adults—even the most dense among them would get the message after three consecutive storytelling sessions.

"Why did Lord Bing make us listen to these tales?"

"What else? For our own good, of course. Our Magistrate Bing has the people's best interests at heart."

Since Bing Wengu performed artificial rainfall for Ji County, the people have mythologized him.

It can be said that in Ji County, Bing Wengu's words count more than even a sage's.

"Haven’t you noticed how well the magistrate treats his husband? He wants us to treat our wives and husbands well too. If the magistrate does it, how could it be wrong?"

"He’s so wise—we should just do as he does."

Among the men working under Bing Wengu, some feared retaliation from their husbands after observing his conduct, while others admired Bing Wengu and sought to emulate his actions.

In any case, all of this quietly raised the status of women and *Shuang Er* (a gender identity in this context).