Chapter 26 The Marquis of Jinyang’s Upbringing Isn’t Very Good…

Chapter 26: The Marquis of Jinyang’s Upbringing Leaves Much to Be Desired…

A Chan realized her misunderstanding but felt no embarrassment.

"Since I proposed it, I'll bear the consequences, whatever they may be," she ventured. "Does Your Excellency agree to this proposal?"

There’s a human saying: misfortune may be a blessing in disguise, and blessings may conceal misfortune. Since she intended to profit from Bai Xiuming, she was naturally prepared to pay the corresponding price.

She had already entangled herself with him; now that the opportunity had arisen, how could she easily let it slip away?

Those who hesitate are destined to grasp nothing.

"I accept."

A Chan’s eyes curved into happy crescents as she beamed. She gazed at the tall man before her, thinking, *It doesn’t matter if we have no prior connection—I can forge one.*

Before, Bai Xiuming had only existed in her lies, but now it had become reality.

And of course, this wasn’t the end.

"Your Excellency." This address was delivered with particular sweetness.

Bai Xiuming lowered his gaze, waiting for her to speak.

A Chan wore a bashful expression, her cheeks faintly flushed. "I know Your Excellency’s word is as good as gold, but… could the payment be made in advance?"

"Don't push your luck."

A Chan paid no heed to his cold tone, stretching out her hands and thrusting them directly before his eyes.

"Look at the wounds on my hands—they’re all from these past few days. Before, I didn’t even know what a stove looked like, and now I have to stretch every penny. If life weren’t so hard, I wouldn’t dare ask this of you."

A Chan spoke with heartfelt sincerity, her eyes even misting slightly.

The wounds on her hands were, of course, real—though some were from the blisters she got while carving yin willow, which hadn’t fully healed, and the fresh cut was from accidentally nicking herself while chopping chicken two days ago.

All for survival—it wasn’t exactly a lie.

Her injuries weren’t healing easily, but while they looked gruesome, they weren’t actually serious.

Still, when playing the victim, the more pitiful the better.

Bai Xiuming looked at her slender, jade-like fingers and suddenly recalled the soft, delicate feel of holding her hand that night.

He looked away. "When do you want me to go?"

A Chan’s eyes brightened. "Tomorrow, perhaps?"

"You’re in a hurry?" Bai Xiuming didn’t explicitly refuse.

"Very much so." She gazed at him pleadingly. "Your Excellency, is that alright?"

"...Very well."

"What time do you plan to go? I’d like to join in the excitement." A Chan made no attempt to hide her childish wish to see the Marquis of Jinyang’s household suffer in front of Bai Xiuming.

"Tomorrow at *weishi* (1-3 pm)."

"It's settled then."

A Chan was thrilled. Having secured her advantage first, she of course remembered the main task.

She straightened and said seriously to Bai Xiuming, "Later, I’ll make a list for you. Please prepare the materials according to it. I assume Your Excellency has dragonbone?"

"Yes."

"Good. Aside from the items on the list, you just need to grind a section of dragonbone into powder and give it to me."

Bai Xiuming had no objections.

A Chan suddenly realized she didn’t have paper or ink at home and hurried to the neighboring bookstore to borrow some from Boss Xu, who readily prepared them for her.

Just before she started writing, Bai Xiuming also entered the bookstore. Seeing him, A Chan paused briefly, then wrote down several materials and their approximate quantities.

Her script was graceful—the ornate, feminine handwriting commonly used by young women.

Once finished, she blew on the ink and handed the paper to Bai Xiuming. "Please keep this safe, Your Excellency."

Bai Xiuming glanced at it, folded the paper, and tucked it away.

After bidding farewell to Boss Xu, A Chan and Bai Xiuming left the bookstore. Seeing that he seemed about to depart, she suddenly called out to him.

"Your Excellency."

"Something else?" He turned back.

A Chan fluttered her luminous eyes. "If one day your enemies come for me, will you save me?"

"I do not rescue dead weight."

"Not even a little?"

Bai Xiuming didn’t bother answering and turned and left.

*Hmph. Ice-cold.*

A Chan muttered to herself but, anticipating tomorrow's fun, walked home with noticeably lighter steps.

By noon the following day, she hadn’t even eaten lunch before heading straight for the Marquis of Jinyang’s residence.

It wasn't *weishi* yet, but she had already found the best viewing spot—a third-floor teahouse by the street, with a perfect view of the marquis’s front gate.

A Chan chose her seat, ordered a pot of tea and three different pastries, and was promptly escorted to the window by the waiter.

At this time, the third floor was quiet—most patrons were scholars clustered together. Listening to them compose poems and critique art provided its own entertainment.

Little did she know, while she was admiring others, she too was quite the vision.

In a partitioned private booth not far from her, several officials' sons were stealing glances her way through the gaps in the divider.

These were all sons of high-ranking officials who had come to witness the renowned tea ceremony skills of the teahouse’s servers.

After some casual remarks about A Chan, most of them lost interest—with their status, they had seen plenty of girls and had no reason to stare at just one.

Only one kept watching.

"Mu Lin, from her clothes, she’s just a commoner girl. If you’re that smitten, why not go introduce yourself? Who's to say, you could be wed by tonight, haha!"

This came from Yan Cheng, son of the Justice Ministry's Vice Minister. The "Mu Lin" he was talking to was the second son of the Minister of Rites’ family.

In terms of status, Mu Lin technically outranked him, but Yan Cheng had the backing of his grandfather, the Marquis of Zhenbei, a war hero who fiercely protected his own. Thus, though Mu Lin was displeased with Yan Cheng's attitude, he endured it.

Another young master at the table, the son of the Chief Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, chuckled and said, "If Mu Lin is smitten, why not go and introduce yourself to that young lady? You might regret it later if you don’t."

Mu Lin, tempted by the suggestion, hesitated for a moment before standing up and making his way to where A Chan sat.

The group behind him watched with grins, except for Yan Cheng, who let out a mocking snort through clenched teeth.

As Mu Lin approached, A Chan was taking small bites of Eight-Treasure Cake. The cake from this teahouse was delicious, and she considered buying some to take home later.

"Good day, miss."

Hearing the voice, A Chan turned her head to see a young man standing by her table.

He was youthful, his face still boyish, but his clear eyes were not those of a pampered aristocrat.

"Can I help you, sir?" A Chan set down her cake and asked curiously.

Mu Lin felt his cheeks grow warm—she had a lovely voice.

He bowed slightly and said, "I am Mu Lin, son of the Minister of Rites. Would you mind if I joined you?"

A Chan glanced around; there were other empty tables.

Yet the young man before her had turned bright red after speaking. Amused, she nodded. "Please, have a seat."

Mu Lin’s heart skipped with joy. Just as he sat down, trying to think of something to say, A Chan turned her gaze toward the window.

He followed her line of sight and saw a group of Bright Mirror Bureau Guards astride dragon blood horses halting outside the Marquis of Jinyang’s residence.

At the forefront of the group, riding the tallest dragon blood horse, was Bai Xiuming.

Today, he wore crimson official robes, his hair tied up with a golden crown, a long saber at his waist—cutting an imposing figure.

Bai Xiuming remained mounted as one of his subordinates stepped forward to knock on the gate.

The gatekeeper, hearing they were here to see the Marquis, didn’t dare delay and hurried inside to report.

At that moment, the Marquis of Jinyang was reviewing his son Xue Zhao’s studies in the study. When the steward informed him that the Bright Mirror Bureau Commander had arrived with his men, his stomach dropped. He set down the essay and hurried out, with Xue Zhao following closely behind.

Bai Xiuming didn’t have to wait long before seeing the Marquis in casual attire and his so-called adopted son emerge.

The two not only bore a striking resemblance in appearance but even walked in a nearly identical manner. If not for the truth, you’d swear they were blood relatives.

Xue Zhao, still young and green in such situations, wore a tense expression, while the Marquis appeared far more composed.

When the Marquis stepped out, Bai Xiuming remained seated on his dragon blood horse. His eyes flashed with cold anger, but it was quickly hidden. "What brings you here today, Lord Bai?"

"I’m here on someone’s behalf to collect something from the Marquis."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"The dowry of your first wife, Lin Shi."

The Marquis’s face fell instantly, his gaze filled with shock and suspicion.

"Lord Bai must be joking. By what authority do you demand my late wife’s dowry?"

"Is it so wrong for me to claim the dowry of Ji Chan’s late mother on her behalf?"

The Marquis frowned, seemingly surprised that his cast-out daughter had the means to enlist Bai Xiuming’s help.

While the Marquis remained silent, Xue Zhao lost his temper. He stepped forward and declared loudly, "Lord Bai, this is ridiculous! That Ji Chan is the product of Lin Shi’s adultery—what right does she have—"

Before he could finish, Xue Zhao went flying backward. The Marquis’s face contorted in panic as he intercepted Bai Xiuming’s unseen strike, just barely catching his son.

Yet the moment Xue Zhao touched the ground, he coughed up blood and collapsed, unconscious.

Bai Xiuming dismounted, casually brushing dust from his sleeve. "The Marquis of Jinyang’s upbringing leaves much to be desired."

The Marquis’s face turned livid—his son badly hurt, and his assailant still mocking him.

Clenching his teeth, he ground out, "Must Lord Bai pick on a boy?"

Bai Xiuming chuckled lightly. "It’s only right to teach your son the consequences of running his mouth. Don’t you agree, Marquis?"

When the Marquis didn’t respond, Bai Xiuming’s amused gaze turned cold. "It seems the Marquis wants to fight me?"

"Lord Bai jests." The Marquis lifted Xue Zhao in his arms, then finally relented. "Since Lord Bai is here for my late wife’s dowry, please, come inside."

Bai Xiuming led his men into the Marquis’s estate. The Marchioness, Xue Shi, rushed over upon hearing the news. Seeing her unconscious son, she was shaking violently.

"My lord, what happened?"

"Internal injuries. Have the steward summon a physician."

Xue Shi immediately called for the steward. Once arrangements were made, she glanced at the intimidating Bright Mirror Bureau Guards nearby and whispered to the Marquis, "My lord, who are these people?"

After a long silence, the Marquis replied, "They’ve come for Lin Shi’s dowry. Take her dowry list and ensure every item is accounted for—nothing must be missing."

Xue Shi was confused. "Why? Why would they demand Lin Shi’s dowry?"

When Lin Shi married, the Lin family was at its peak, and her dowry had been substantial. After Ji Chan was driven out, all of it had fallen into Xue Shi’s hands.

Even with the Xue family’s recent rise, Xue Shi’s own dowry was nothing compared—less than a tenth of Lin Shi’s. To part with such a fortune was unthinkable.

"It’s all because of that wretched Ji Chan—" The Marquis stopped mid-sentence as Bai Xiuming’s gaze turned toward them, but Xue Shi’s face had already darkened.

She remembered clearly what Ji Chan had said to her during the Flower Festival.

At the time, Xue Shi had been swayed by her words, but when Ji Chan failed to follow up, she assumed she’d been tricked by a mere girl.

Who would’ve thought that within a month, Ji Chan would actually bring Bai Xiuming to their doorstep?

*That shameless little wretch!* Xue Shi dug her nails into her hand, boiling with rage.

Still unwilling to relent, she pressed, "My lord, that’s a vast sum of silver. With your recent cultivation requiring significant funds, if we hand it over... outsiders might assume you fear Lord Bai."

Xue Shi believed that as a Fourth Realm expert—though his cultivation had regressed to the Third Realm due to past injuries—the Marquis’s combat experience meant he might not lose to Bai Xiuming.

To yield without a fight today would invite ridicule later. How could the Marquis’s household maintain its standing in the capital then?

Her reasoning was sound, but the Marquis shot her a fierce glare and snapped, "Enough nonsense. Go and have the maids inventory Lin Shi’s dowry at once."

"But—" Xue Shi wanted to argue further, but the Marquis’s murderous glare silenced her. She had no choice but to comply.

Xue Shi led the maids to the courtyard where Lin Shi’s dowry was stored, while the Marquis remained rooted in place. If he had any other choice, would he willingly surrender such wealth?

It was widely rumored that Bai Xiuming was only at the Third Realm, yet he could slay those at the Fourth Realm—a once-in-a-generation talent.

Only he knew the true extent of his cultivation. How could anyone stand against Bai Xiuming?

*Ji Chan…*

The Marquis of Jinyang kept repeating the name to himself before finally letting out a sigh.

Xue Shi led the Bright Mirror Bureau Guards to take stock of the dowry, but Bai Xiuming did not follow. Instead, he summoned the estate steward and had him show the way to the courtyard where Ji Chan once lived.

Though Ji Chan had been driven out, her former residence remained—not because it was reserved for her, but because the marquis' two sons both thought the place was bad luck.

A maid was still there, sweeping the courtyard. According to the steward, she had once been Ji Chan’s personal maid.

The maid seemed to have been through a lot, her expression numb. When the steward mentioned that an important official had arrived, she immediately knelt and began kowtowing.

"Rise," Bai Xiuming called her up and said, "I have some questions for you. Just tell me the truth."

"Yes," the maid replied softly.

"What kind of person was Ji Chan?"

The maid hesitated, as if thinking for a moment before answering, "Miss Ji was very kind. She was good to all of us."

This answer clearly did not satisfy Bai Xiuming. He tried a different approach, "Did your young miss cry often?"

The maid shook her head. "The young miss rarely cried, though... when she fell ill, she would sometimes cry softly for her parents."

As she spoke, the maid’s lips curled slightly, as if recalling past memories.

Then she added, "But even when she was ill, the Marquis rarely bothered to visit her."

"Could she read and write?"

"Of course."

Bai Xiuming pulled a piece of paper from his sleeve and unfolded it. "Look. Is this her handwriting?"

The maid looked at the writing and nodded repeatedly. "This is the young miss’s writing. She even taught me once, but I was all thumbs—I could never write as well."

"Are there any samples of her writing here?" Bai Xiuming asked.

"There are." Seeing that Bai Xiuming wished to examine them, the maid opened the door and retrieved a stack of papers inside. Scrawled across them were characters of varying sizes, apparently written in idle moments.

The handwriting on these papers was identical to that on the list he had provided.