Chapter 126: Taking Advantage of Bing Wengu, Different Fates for the Same Person…

Chapter 126 Trying to Take Advantage of Bing Wengu... Different Lives, Different Fates

Bing Wengu took the paper and looked it over, immediately understanding everything.

"Zhao Yingying, you tell me what happened." Zhao Yingying was the girl whose handwriting was nearly identical to Zhao Cheng's.

Zhao Cheng turned his head and shot her a glare of pure hatred, as if daring her to say one wrong word. Zhao Yingying kept her eyes downcast, too afraid to meet his gaze.

"Sir, I... I..." Zhao Yingying wanted to deny it—she didn’t dare admit the truth, fearing Zhao Cheng would take it out on her later. But she also couldn’t bring herself to lie. You've done so much for women and Shuang Er, even giving them the chance to study and read. She couldn’t deceive her benefactor.

"I’m sorry, Sir," Zhao Yingying whispered. "My younger brother forced me to copy his handwriting. During the exam, he wrote my student number and name, and I wrote his."

Zhao Cheng’s glare of pure hatred seemed ready to burn through Zhao Yingying, who trembled in fear.

The school official fumed. "Zhao Cheng! Zhao Yingying! Punishment—both of you will copy the exam papers twenty times each!"

"Yes," Zhao Yingying replied, her voice small with shame, wishing the ground would swallow her up. "I’m sorry, Sir. I’m sorry, teacher."

Zhao Cheng clenched his jaw in anger, refusing to respond.

Bing Wengu looked at Zhao Yingying. He understood her predicament—the fault wasn’t hers. Yet she had still participated and now had to face the consequences.

"Zhao Yingying, helping someone cheat is wrong. But I admire your courage in admitting your mistake and accepting the consequences. It's always darkest before the dawn. I believe that if you persist, you will surely break free from the darkness and see the light."

"Sir... really?" Zhao Yingying lifted her gaze to Bing Wengu, her large eyes filled with tears. "Can I truly break free from the darkness?"

"Of course. Before, you were in darkness and didn’t even realize it. Now you know—that’s progress. As long as you remain aware of the darkness around you and stay clear-headed, you will find the light. Even if it’s just a sliver, if you hold onto it and never let go, you will see the dawn."

Bing Wengu’s expression was firm. His words were this girl’s salvation.

"If you don’t believe in yourself, then believe in me. I’m the one who solved a drought even the gods couldn’t fix."

Zhao Yingying’s tears streamed down. "I believe in you, Sir."

Bing Wengu gave a slight nod, then turned to Zhao Cheng, his gaze icy.

"Zhao Cheng, you think women and Shuang Er don’t deserve scholarships just because they can’t take the imperial exams. Well, let me tell you this clearly—even as a boy, you will never take those exams either."

Zhao Cheng sneered back. "Why? All men can take the exams! Why can’t I?"

"Because of your shameful character," Bing Wengu said bluntly. "Zhao Cheng, you seem to forget that the imperial exams don’t just test knowledge—they also judge one’s moral integrity. With character like yours, you wouldn’t pass my scrutiny. I would never approve your participation, and no one would vouch for you."

Being publicly denounced by a figure as revered as Bing Wengu for his terrible character left Zhao Cheng fuming with humiliation. He wanted to storm off but didn’t dare, his face flushing red.

Bing Wengu turned away from Zhao Cheng and faced Chu Yan. "Congratulations—you are the true first-place winner. I reviewed your paper. Though still rough, for someone who just started studying, your answers were insightful and well-developed. That’s rare. Don’t give up—keep working hard. Knowledge isn’t valuable only for the imperial exams. Even if you never take them, the wisdom you gain may take you further and wider than those who do!"

"Thank you, Sir," Chu Yan said, moved. Just moments ago, he had feared he might lose the scholarship. All his life, whenever he clashed with boys, no matter who was right, he had to yield—as if he was born beneath them.

"Knowledge isn’t just for exams. Look at my husband. Though he never took the imperial exams, he used his learning to create wealth. His monthly earnings are hundreds, even thousands of times my modest salary. Right now, our whole household runs on his earnings."

Bing Wengu openly bragged about being supported by his husband, even sounding somewhat proud. Then he shot a sly glance at Nan Jinping.

Nan Jinping sighed. If only official salaries were considered, then yes, the money she earned from writing storybooks far exceeded Bing Wengu’s.

But the problem was—Bing Wengu’s income wasn’t limited to that modest stipend.

Not to mention the distant past, even the recent rewards from the sage are real, valuable items, together worth a small fortune.

Of course, the most precious among them—the Hetian jade—was crafted into a pendant by Bing Wengu and now hangs at his waist.

These finer details were unknown to the students below. Hearing Bing Wengu’s words, they all gazed at Nan Jinping with complete admiration, utterly in awe.

To these students, Bing Wengu was like a god—no, even greater than a god, beyond their wildest imaginations.

Chu Yan’s gaze burned with excitement as he stared at Nan Jinping. "Master Wuwei, ever since I heard the storytelling performances of the 'Rebirth Trilogy,' I’ve been your most devoted fan. You are my role model, my aspiration.

I share a name with the protagonist in one of your storybooks. I hope to embody the resilience of your characters—never backing down, no matter the storm, always charging ahead with sheer grit.

Master, could you please give me your autograph? I want to keep it safe and look at it whenever I feel lost."

The "Rebirth Trilogy" referred to Nan Jinping’s works: *Dong Geer’s Rebirth*, *Chu Geer’s Rebirth*, and *Yan Geer’s Rebirth*, collectively dubbed the "Rebirth Trilogy" by fans of storytelling.

Nan Jinping replied, "Of course."

Chu Yan excitedly handed his certificate to Nan Jinping, asking him to sign it directly.

Nan Jinping signed using his pen name, "Master Wuwei," and left a line of encouragement: *The rainbow only comes after the storm. Don’t be afraid of the storm, for the fiercer the storm, the more splendid the rainbow that follows.*

"Thank you, Master!" Chu Yan bowed deeply to the stage, clutching his certificate, and went back to his seat, grinning from ear to ear.

His classmates immediately crowded around to admire Nan Jinping’s signature.

Fortunately, Nan Jinping’s calligraphy had improved by then, now having some flair and no longer looking sloppy.

Afterward, every student requested Nan Jinping’s autograph and a personalized blessing. Nan Jinping changed his wording slightly based on gender.

Each student who received an autograph beamed with joy.

Once the awards ceremony concluded, Bing Wengu went back to his office.

Meanwhile, the students, having received their scholarships, got a short break. Ordinarily, students would have winter and summer vacations, but not in Jixian County School. This was a requirement by Bing Wengu, the county magistrate of Jixian—not to force relentless studying, but because his county school offered far more practical courses than others.

For instance, embroidery, martial arts, calligraphy, and even the Six Arts of the Gentleman.

Young gentlemen of the world traditionally studied the Six Arts, and Bing Wengu introduced these subjects to the children.

Of course, there was also ample time for play. Bing Wengu encouraged children to enjoy themselves. The reason he eliminated winter and summer breaks was to minimize prolonged exposure to parents with old-fashioned beliefs. He feared that, over time, the students might unconsciously pick up unfair biases, developing sexist attitudes—contrary to his original intentions.

The more time students spent in school, the more the teachers treated them fairly over time. Even if many children initially absorbed their parents’ prejudices against girls and Shuang Er, being treated equally gradually reshaped their perspectives. They no longer saw girls and Shuang Er as different and, once they developed a strong sense of right and wrong, even spoke up when women and Shuang Er were treated unfairly.

This was the outcome Bing Wengu desired.

With heavy snow soon sealing off the mountains, making it difficult for the children to visit their families, Bing Wengu gave them a short break. After all, their families needed to know how they were faring in school—that they were neither abused nor missing.

The dilapidated temple was drafty from all sides. An old man huddled in a corner, wrapped in all the straw he could gather, yet still shivering from the cold.

The money he had earned from summer labor was long gone. He hadn’t eaten in seven days—starving and freezing.

Over fifty years old, he felt he had lived long enough and no longer feared death. But he couldn’t stop thinking about that child—the little Shuang Er he had found on the road. That child was the only light in his dark life, the reason he worked so hard to earn money.

But now, it seemed he wouldn’t live to see the child return. At least the boy was studying in the county school. Though he didn’t know what meals were like there, he assumed there was at least something to eat—better than following him.

If not for utter desperation, with no money left for food, the old man would never have let his little Shuang Er leave. After all, a young Shuang Er alone in the world was all too vulnerable to bullying and discrimination.

Lost in his daze, the old man suddenly noticed a figure appear at the temple’s entrance, blocking some of the wind and snow.

The old man struggled to look up and saw a young Shuang Er (a term for a young male in this cultural context) dressed in new clothes. Though the new clothes were made of coarse fabric, the child was tidy and well-kept, clearly much loved at home.

How wonderful it would be if his own grandson could dress like this, the old man thought longingly, though he knew it was impossible.

"Grandfather!" Just as he was lost in this fantasy, the young Shuang Er at the door rushed in and hugged him.

"This old man is dirty, don’t ruin your new clothes," the old man mumbled, not recognizing the child at first.

"Grandfather, it’s me, Xiao Geer!" Chu Yan was the little Shuang Er whom the old man had insisted on sending to school when Cong Lin came to the village to promote literacy. The old man had never been to school himself and didn’t even know his own surname. When he found Chu Yan, he hadn’t given him a name. It was only at the county school, when the teacher asked students without names to choose one for themselves, that Chu Yan picked his own name.

Many children lacked names—not just Shuang Er and girls, but boys too. Many families simply called their children by their surname, birth order, and "Lang," "Niang," or "Geer" (affectionate terms for young boys).

The old man paused, stunned, before straining to open his eyes wide and examine the Xiao Geer before him. He had cherished this face for over a decade. Though it had always been too dirty to make out clearly before, the old man would recognize it no matter what.

"My grandson, my dear grandson! It’s really you!" The old man's face lit up, gripping Chu Yan excitedly and scanning him from head to toe. He couldn’t believe that after going to the county school, his grandson seemed as if from another world.

"Grandfather, it’s me," Chu Yan said, just as emotional. But he also noticed something was wrong. "Grandfather, you’re trembling all over. Your forehead is burning—you have a fever!"

Chu Yan didn’t mind his grandfather’s dirtiness at all. He wrapped his arms around the old man, pressing his forehead against his grandfather’s and feeling the burning fever.

"Grandfather, let’s go to the clinic," Chu Yan said immediately, ready to take him for treatment.

But the old man refused. "No need, I’m fine. Seeing you has made everything better."

Chu Yan suddenly remembered something. He set down the basket on his back and pulled out three heavy strings of cash coins.

"Grandfather, we have money now—enough to see a doctor."

The old man’s eyes widened at the sight of so much money. His voice trembled as he asked, "My boy, where did you get all this?"

Chu Yan smiled. "Grandfather, don’t you remember? The officer who came to the village to teach literacy said that the top three students in the county school’s final exams would receive scholarships. I came top in my exams and earned three strings of coins!"

Tears of pride welled up in the old man’s eyes. "That’s wonderful! My grandson is amazing!"

When he had sent Chu Yan to school, the old man had only hoped the boy would get enough to eat. He had never dreamed Chu Yan would come top in his exams.

"So, Grandfather, don’t worry about money. Let’s go see the doctor."

But the old man still refused. "No, put this money aside for later."

Chu Yan understood his grandfather’s love all too well. Tears streamed down his face. "Grandfather, you must see a doctor. You must live well. The reason I studied so hard for this scholarship was for you. If you’re gone, what’s left for me to strive for?"

He clung tightly to the old man. "Besides, aren’t you afraid of leaving me alone as a young Shuang Er? You know how much the villagers look down on us. Without you, who will protect me? Aren’t you afraid those bad people in the village will gang up to bully me? If I plead to heaven and earth with no one to answer, unable even to die—aren’t you afraid?"

These weren’t empty words. They were Chu Yan’s reality. When he was younger, a local bachelor had once tried to assault him. It was only because the old man had nearly beaten the man to death in his rage that the others were scared off, allowing Chu Yan to grow up safely.

Remembering this, the old man realized he couldn’t just die. He had to protect his grandson, at least until he came of age.

"Alright, I’ll see the doctor. I won’t die until I’ve seen you married."

Chu Yan helped the weak from fever old man to his feet. "But that’s still not enough. How will you know if the person I marry is good or bad? What if they bully or beat me after we wed? So, Grandfather, you must live a very, very long time—at least longer than me—to protect me."

The old man’s eyes grew hot, tears spilled freely. He knew his grandson couldn’t bear to lose him.

Chu Yan spoke to a villager with an ox-drawn cart, tipping a few extra coins to take his grandfather to the town clinic.

The doctor, seeing Chu Yan neatly dressed while the old man looked like a beggar, couldn’t help but feel some disapproval toward the boy.

"He's had a high fever for days, hasn't he? Why bring him in only now? Any later and we could've just arranged a funeral."

"I'm sorry, it was my oversight," Chu Yan lowered his head in shame, blaming himself.

The old man couldn't bear to let the child take the blame and quickly explained, "It's not the child's fault. It's this old man who's useless, living in a ruined temple with him. Luckily, the authorities have an education subsidy program, so my grandson got the chance to study. This child worked hard—he ranked first in the final exams and earned a scholarship. That's how this old man can afford treatment now. Otherwise, left to myself, I'd just be waiting to die from illness."

Speaking of Chu Yan's excellence, the old man was both proud and triumphant. After a lifetime of being looked down upon, he had never felt he stood so tall before.

The physician, now understanding the full story, saw Chu Yan in a new light.

"So you're Chu Yan. My son also attends the county school—he's mentioned you before. Said Lord Bing himself praised your scholarship. Meanwhile, my own hopeless son has been studying for years and still can't even make the top three in his class." The physician gazed at Chu Yan with admiration. "You're actually my son's role model."

The physician quickly had an apprentice call his son out. When the teenage boy emerged and saw Chu Yan, he blushed deeply. His eyes darted about, too embarrassed to meet Chu Yan's gaze.

"Chu... Chu, classmate," the boy stammered, blushing.

Chu Yan gave a warm, easy smile. "Hello, classmate."

The old man looked from his grandson to the boy and suddenly realized how much knowledge had changed Chu Yan's fate.

The old man's understanding was limited—he couldn't grasp the deeper implications. But in the immediate sense, a family like the boy's would have been completely out of Chu Yan's league before. How could such a boy ever have looked twice at a ragged little beggar led around by an old beggar?

But now, it was clear the boy was interested, and his father watched the two, raising no objections.

Once the old man's fever subsided, Chu Yan, who had been chatting with the boy, got up to leave.

Even after all that time, the boy was still reluctant to part. Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Earlier, I heard Grandfather mention you live in a ruined temple in the village. It must be freezing there. His fever just broke—if he goes back, it might come back. Why not stay at my father's clinic tonight?"

Chu Yan replied, "Thank you. Then we'll take you up on that for tonight. Do you know of any places in town renting rooms—cheaper ones? I want to rent a place for Grandfather. He can't stay in that temple anymore."

The old man hurriedly interjected, "No, we can't waste money like that."

"Grandfather, that temple really isn't livable anymore. People freeze to death there in winter," Chu Yan said urgently. "Have you forgotten? You promised me you'd live well, longer than me, to protect me."

The old man chuckled. "This old man remembers his promise. With a grandson as outstanding as you, I can't bear to die now. I won't stay in the temple—I can borrow a room from someone in the village. One string of cash (about 1000 coins) a year is enough."

Only then did Chu Yan agree.

That evening, the physician closed the clinic and walked home with his son, still reluctant to part with Chu Yan.

The physician asked, "Are you sweet on little Shuang Er?"

The boy tripped over his words. "Father, don't talk nonsense. I... I—Chu is very popular at school. From what I know, many boys in his class secretly admire him. When his scholarship was questioned before, a boy who liked him even stood up for him."

The physician sighed. "Truly, the outstanding are always loved by many."

Once the old man fully recovered, Chu Yan filled another prescription before taking him back to the village. When Chu Yan offered a string of cash as rent, several families offered to rent out a room for the old man.

Chu Yan then gave all his money to his grandfather. The old man initially refused, but Chu Yan insisted his room and board were provided by the school, and carrying money was unsafe. Only then did the old man accept it all.

Chu Yan and Zhao Cheng were from the same village—the family that had once declared daughters and Shuang Er had no use for schooling, only allowing their daughter to study later for their son's sake.

At the Zhao household, Zhao Yingying's parents were in a rage, berating her.

"To get caught cheating—are you stupid? Do you realize how much you've shamed your brother? How is he supposed to face his classmates now?" They took turns scolding her, pinching and twisting her arms in their fury.

Zhao Yingying endured silently, without shedding a tear. What kept her going were Bing Wengu's words: 'Dawn always follows the darkest night,' and his request that she trust him.

Having seen the wider world, Zhao Yingying could no longer live in darkness.

Zhao Cheng angrily slammed things around, and his mother coaxed him, saying, "Your second sister came in second place and earned a string of coins. I'll give you fifty to buy something nice. Don’t be angry anymore."

Having given birth to three daughters before finally having this one son, the mother spoiled him rotten.

"I want a hundred," Zhao Cheng demanded.

"Fine."

On the day the County School reopened and the hired ox-cart came to pick up the students, Zhao Cheng refused to go.

"I won’t go! After all that happened, how can I show my face there? Isn’t it humiliating enough?" Zhao Cheng was throwing a fit.

Instead of scolding her son, the mother blamed Zhao Yingying, "It’s all your fault! If you weren’t so stupid and got caught cheating, your brother wouldn’t have lost so much face. Now look what you’ve done—he doesn’t even want to study anymore!"

Zhao Yingying lowered her head in silence. Her mother grew even angrier at her silent act. "Since your brother isn’t going, none of you will go either."

Zhao the Eldest quickly spoke up, "Mother, let me go. My grades are good—I came in second this time and won a scholarship. If I keep studying, I might even take first place. First place gets three strings of coins!"

Thinking of the money, the mother agreed. "Zhao Third Sister isn’t allowed to go. If she can’t even cheat properly, what’s the point of studying? Besides, what use is education for a girl? She’ll just get married away anyway."

Zhao the Eldest pulled her younger sister aside to comfort her. "Don’t cry. I’ll write down everything the teacher teaches and bring it home for you to study. If there’s anything you don’t understand, write it down, and I’ll explain it when I come back."

She sighed. "You really should have been more careful."

Zhao Yingying sobbed, "His handwriting was so awful. I couldn’t help but secretly practice it. During the exam, I was so into it I slipped up."

This time, Zhao the Eldest went to the County School, and barring any surprises, she wouldn’t return for the entire winter. Her mother hadn’t prepared anything for her. As she was leaving, her mother even said, "Take off your new clothes—yours and your sister’s—and give them to your brother to alter and wear. What does a useless girl need new clothes for?"

Zhao the Eldest refused. "These are school uniforms. The County School provided them for all students. They can’t be given to my brother."

But the mother didn’t care and yanked them right off her. She even confiscated Zhao Yingying’s uniform, since she wouldn’t be returning to school.

On the way back from the County School that day, Nan Jinping said sadly, "That girl named Zhao Yingying probably won’t be able to return to school after this."

Bing Wengu said, "That’s why I told her that it's always darkest before dawn. I hope she can hold on. At most, in a year, she’ll be able to return to the County School."

Nan Jinping brightened. "You’ve found a way?"

"Yes."

On the first day of the new semester at the County School, Cong Lin came in to report, "Sir, many families are no longer allowing their daughters to attend school."

Bing Wengu had anticipated this and wasn’t surprised. "What about their brothers?"

"Some came, some didn’t."

"Turn away all who showed up. Either they pay up or get out—those are their only two options."

"Yes." Cong Lin added, "There are also some girls who returned to school, but their families confiscated their uniforms."

Bing Wengu sneered. "The nerve of them! How dare they pull this on me? They must have the guts of a bear and a leopard's courage."