Chapter 53: Holding Grudges—Even Children Aren’t Spared

Nan Jinping was mortified to the point where she wished she could cover Bing Wengu’s mouth to stop his nonsense. She could’ve dug a hole through the Nan family’s floor with her toes from sheer embarrassment.

At her age, Miao Shi wasn’t born yesterday and understood perfectly what all this implied.

This wasn’t about the Bing couple being angry—it was purely Bing Wengu’s own heartache—his personal gripe. She quickly nudged her son and shot him a look. "Hurry back with Dalang. Your brothers can handle things here. We don’t need your help here."

Only then did Nan Jinping leave with Bing Wengu.

Wang Shi and the villagers overheard the gossip. "Miao Shi, does the Bing family really not make your son do any work? What’s the point of marrying a lazy son-in-law? Just to sit around stuffing his face?"

Miao Shi replied, "That’s because Dalang dotes on my Jin Geer."

Wang Shi thought about how she had slaved away serving her husband’s family after marriage—and she was a *real* woman, worth ten of him. Why should a shuang’er live so comfortably while she, a proper wife, had to toil like an ox? The bitterness festered like snake venom eating through her.

"Oh, so Bing Dalang really pampers your son. Not even his own mother-in-law can scold him," Wang Shi needled, oozing fake concern. "But what’s the use of doting on your son if he doesn’t even care about you as his mother-in-law?"

Miao Shi saw right through her. She deliberately provoked Wang Shi in return. "Respect or not, it doesn’t matter. Your sons-in-law may respect you, but they can’t even spare a scrap of meat for you during New Year’s gifts. My son-in-law might not care about me, but he keeps sending mutton, pork, fabric—even ancestral recipes that can be passed down for generations. I’m a materialistic old hag. I don’t care about empty gestures. As long as I get real benefits, respect is secondary."

That hit where it hurt. Wasn’t that what everyone secretly wanted?

If her sons-in-law were like Bing Dalang, she’d let them scold her in return.

After shooing away the onlookers, Nan Dalang asked Miao Shi, "Mother, does Jin Geer really do nothing at the Bing household?"

Miao Shi gave him a complicated look. "Have you ever seen Jin Geer stay home after breakfast? He runs back for lunch and then comes straight back here. With him spending all his time here except for meals, when would he even have time to work?"

Gu Shi voiced the soul-searching question. "Then aren’t Liang Shi, Zhou Shi, and Aunt Bing furious?"

Miao Shi sighed. "Which do you think is worse—giving us the recipes or Jin Geer not working?"

"The recipes," Gu Shi answered without hesitation.

"Exactly. Bing Dalang already gave us the recipes, and the Bing family didn’t make a fuss. So why would they care about something as trivial as Jin Geer not working?" Miao Shi murmured, lost in thought. "Jin Geer once told me he doesn’t lift a finger at the Bing household—even his unmentionables are washed by Bing Dalang. I didn’t believe him at the time, but now it seems he was telling the truth."

The entire Nan family was stunned. They never imagined their son was living such a life of luxury after marriage. They had assumed he was suffering, but it turned out he had landed in a bed of roses.

Nan Dalang worked his jaw uselessly before saying, "Mother, I hate to say it, but since you knew how much Bing Dalang treasures Jin Geer, why did you scold him in front of him? You were just asking for trouble."

Miao Shi grumbled, "I knew he spoiled Jin Geer, but I didn’t expect it to this extent—not even a word of criticism is allowed."

Gu Shi remarked, "From what you’ve said, Bing Dalang practically puts him on a damn pedestal. And you went and insulted his pedestal—of course he wouldn’t stand for it."

Miao Shi snapped, "Quit your yapping! Pedestal this, pedestal that—you’re just talking rubbish."

Nan’s father said to his wife, "You’ll have to rein in that sharp tongue around Jin Geer from now on. Since your man doesn’t like it, don’t scold Jin Geer in front of him. If there’s something to say, wait till he’s out of earshot—but keep your tone gentle. No outbursts. Speak properly."

"Understood." This one incident was enough to teach her a lesson.

Back in their room, Nan Jinping said to Bing Wengu, "Wen Gu, Mother meant well. You shouldn’t have spoken to her like that."

Bing Wengu wasn’t angered by the reproach. Instead, he pulled Nan Jinping into a hug, as if afraid she might be upset, and coaxed, "Does your mother know we have a thousand taels of silver at home?"

Nan Jinping shook her head. "No. Why would I tell them something like that?"

"Exactly. If she doesn’t know the full picture, she shouldn’t casually dictate how others should live."

Nan Jinping huffed. "That’s just twisted logic!"

Bing Wengu coaxed repeatedly, "Alright, it's my flawed reasoning. But the recipe I gave away is the real deal. Love, the reason I gave this recipe to the Nan family is because you care about your mother's family. I wanted you to be happy, so I gave them the recipe. I didn’t expect anything else, only that they would treat you better, even more so, to make you happy. I gave them the recipe not so they could scold you."

At the mention of the recipe, Nan Jinping’s anger vanished entirely.

No matter what, Bing Wengu truly treated him well—with a kind of unwavering devotion that might even surpass the love his own parents had for him.

After all, the Nan couple had other children to consider, while Bing Wengu had only him, with everyone else coming second.

Bing Wengu’s feelings toward the Bing family were more about duty, but what he felt for Nan Jinping was love.

Bing Wengu never lost his temper with him, not even raising his voice, so naturally, he couldn’t stand others shouting at him—even if those people were his parents.

Thinking this way, Nan Jinping understood Bing Wengu’s perspective and wasn’t as upset anymore.

At most, he could just tell his mother to speak to him privately in the future and avoid letting Bing Wengu hear.

On New Year’s Eve, the Bing household was unusually lively. Now that the Bing family had money, village children arrived early at their doorstep. If not for the high walls and grand gates, the kids might have already rushed inside.

In the past, when the Bing family was poor, village children avoided them and never came to offer New Year’s greetings. This was the first time, and it overjoyed Liang Shi beyond measure.

From the moment she woke up, Liang Shi had been beaming. "Jin Geer, since you're newly married, you should greet the children today for good luck, so the two of you can have a child soon."

Nan Jinping’s ears turned faintly red, but then he thought of his faded birthmark (signifying fertility) and wondered if he could even conceive a child with Bing Wengu.

By that logic, precisely because of this, Nan Jinping should seek good luck by interacting with children—there was a village belief that children could bring a child.

But privately, Nan Jinping didn’t want to. These very children had mocked him to his face or behind his back before he was married, with the worst even spitting at him or throwing stones.

Now, he was supposed to hand out red envelopes and candies to these same children who had bullied him. Nan Jinping was unhappy but hesitated to refuse Liang Shi, dragging his feet as he headed out.

Bing Wengu, who always kept an eye on Nan Jinping, immediately noticed his reluctance. With just a little thought, he guessed the whole situation.

Bing Wengu was no spoiled rich boy ignorant of hardship. On the contrary, having risen from the lowest ranks to become a general in his youth, he had witnessed the ugliest darkness and filth of human nature. Such a man had long since hardened his heart, with vengeance being his mantra—he would never suffer injustice to spare his "enemies," even if those "enemies" were just kids.

The only softness in Bing Wengu’s life might be reserved for Nan Jinping.

"Darling, you don’t have to go," Bing Wengu called out, stopping him.

Nan Jinping paused and turned back, his eyes lighting up with joy, making Bing Wengu’s lips curl in response.

Liang Shi, oblivious to the wordless communication between the couple, said in surprise, "Children coming to our house for blessings is a good omen. They know best—they only visit the wealthiest families for New Year’s greetings, which means our family will have a prosperous year. Besides, since you two just got married, Jin Geer interacting more with children might bring a child and help you conceive sooner."

Bing Wengu gave Liang Shi a cold look, his tone brooking no argument. "No need. Mother, I haven’t forgotten how these kids talked trash about me."

He didn’t drag Nan Jinping into it, taking the blame himself—after all, the village children had indeed talked trash about Bing Wengu before.

Liang Shi said in astonishment, "They’re just kids. Why hold a grudge?"

"But I took it personally," Bing Wengu replied, looking at her. "Mother, it seems you still don’t understand me. Otherwise, you’d know I’ve never been a forgiving man. On the contrary, I hold grudges—even if the other party is a kid. They should be glad they’re just kids. All I’m doing is not giving them red envelopes. If they were adults, they’d already have broken legs."

Liang Shi suddenly recalled how, before the New Year, Zhou Nan Shi, Li Shi, Wang Shi, and others had all mysteriously suffered injuries, leaving them with lasting injuries. Her face paled, and her hair stood on end.

Back then, she had suspected her son was behind it, but he had denied it. Now, hearing him say this, could those incidents really have been his doing?

At this point, Liang Shi didn’t dare push Bing Wengu anymore—not that she could force him anyway. If she insisted, who knew what something drastic he might take?

"Fine, don’t go then," Liang Shi gave in.

Bing Wengu’s expression softened, and he gave a sly wink at Nan Jinping, who smiled happily, his almond-shaped eyes curving with delight.

He was especially happy, not just because he didn’t have to give lucky money packets to those misbehaving kids who had insulted him, but also because Bing Wengu had his back completely. That feeling of being favored seemed to heal all the wounds of his childhood.

The bratty kids outside the Bing family’s gate were growing impatient. "Why hasn’t anyone come out to open the door yet?"

Another child chimed in, "Maybe they didn’t hear us knocking—it was too quiet."

"Ugh, why did the Bings build their walls so high?"

The kids started pounding and kicking the door even harder, making a huge racket that sounded like they were trying to break it down.

Hearing the noise, Bing Wengu frowned slightly. "Wulang, go chase them away."

Bing Wulang bolted to the gate without even opening it and shouted through the door, "Go away! Our family doesn’t welcome you. My eldest brother and I haven’t forgotten how you treated us before—no lucky money for you!"

"Your brother is so petty, holding a grudge against us kids," one brat retorted defiantly.

"My brother isn’t just petty—he bears grudges. You’d better leave now. If you try anything, he’ll pay you back tenfold. And my brother-in-law, Nan Jinping, won’t let your families get tofu from the Nans anymore!"

Children were creatures who bullied the weak but feared the strong. Knowing their families would lose the chance to earn money from the Nans’ tofu—and that their parents would beat them black and blue for it—they didn’t dare linger. Grumbling curses, they moved on to other houses for New Year’s goodies.

The villagers of Shanghe were poor. Most families could barely afford snacks for their own kids, let alone spare any for others. After making their rounds, the children’s pockets were still barely half-full.

"Why so little? And all cheap stuff too. The Bings are so stingy—weren’t they supposed to give red envelopes?" The adults were growing impatient. Now that the Bings and Nans were well-off, surely they could spare a coin or two.

One brat sneered. "Nope. No red envelopes—the Bings didn’t even open the door for us."

"Why?" an adult asked, puzzled.

"That Bing Dalang, for someone who’s studied so much, is so petty. He said he remembers how we used to gossip about him and holds a grudge."

"You lot—I told you not to gossip, but you never listened. Now look, you’ve missed out on two coins!" The man then muttered under his breath, "The heavens must be blind to let someone like him prosper! What kind of man holds a grudge against kids? And he wants to take the imperial exams? What could he possibly pass?"

Plenty of others bad-mouthed Bing Wengu the same way, but he didn’t give a damn.

Another adult asked, "What about the Nans? They’re doing well now—didn’t they give you anything?"

The child scowled. "They were about to. I saw them preparing a whole basket full of red envelopes and delicious snacks. But just as they were handing them out, Bing Wulang and Bing Sanniang showed up with the Bing kids to pay New Year’s respects. They told the Nans that Bing Dalang refused to give us anything. Then Miao Shi took back all the snacks she’d set aside for us."

"Tch, what kind of people are they? The Nans are just Bing Wengu’s bootlickers!"

The man cursed bitterly, but deep down, he was seething with envy. He’d give anything to be in the Nans’ place—to have the chance to lick Bing Wengu’s boots. But Bing Wengu would never give him that opportunity.

The Bing family’s New Year’s Eve feast was extravagant. There were three types of dumplings, five meat dishes, and five vegetarian dishes—a perfect spread. The most expensive dish was spit-roasted lamb, which alone cost more than what most families spent on their entire New Year’s celebrations.

Now, the Bings could eat to their hearts’ content. This was the best New Year’s they’d ever had—the first time they’d eaten until they were stuffed, with plenty of leftovers to spare.

It was also Nan Jinping’s first time experiencing such abundance.

He patted his full belly, so full that even a sip of water might make him vomit. Yet the table before him was still piled high with snacks—untouched, even by the children. Nan Jinping felt pure bliss, something he’d never even dared to dream of before.

The Bing brothers and the married couple felt the same. This New Year was like a dream—no, even better than a dream.

Bing Jingyao whispered quietly to Aunt Bing, "Mother, I’m so happy. When I lived with the Suns, I wouldn’t have dared to dream of something like this."

Bing Jingyao was Aunt Bing’s eldest daughter, who’d just turned eleven.

Back in the Sun family, she had no name. The Suns simply called her by her birth order, and sometimes Old Mrs. Sun would even demean her by calling her "servant girl."

Rural folks aren’t as particular with their speech as city dwellers. In the city, people refer to their daughters as "young mistresses," while in the countryside, terms like "young mistress" and "servant girl" are used interchangeably. However, to city folk, calling someone "servant girl" carries a self-deprecating tone, as they typically reserve that term for maidservants. Rural people aren’t unaware of this—some simply don’t care about such distinctions and use the terms casually. But Old Mrs. Sun was absolutely deliberate in her demeaning treatment of the two girls by calling them that. The girls knew it too—they hated it but couldn’t fight back.

Before the New Year, Bing Wengu went to the local authorities to register Aunt Bing’s household registration and formally listed the two girls under her name. Naturally, he wouldn’t treat it as carelessly as the villagers, who might just call them "Eldest Aunt" or "Second Aunt" without even giving them proper names.

Bing Wengu named the two girls Jingyao and Jingwan, while the dual-natured child was named Xi Ying. When he returned and told Aunt Bing, she and the children were so moved that their eyes welled up—they never expected to have names of their own.

Aunt Bing cradled Ying Geer in one arm while affectionately stroking Yao Niang’s hair with the other. Yao Niang’s hair, once dry and brittle, had grown darker and smoother after this period of care.

"Yao Niang, the three of us have left the Sun family behind. Now we have our own home and land, and life will only get better from here. This lavish New Year’s feast is just the beginning. If we live well, every year from now on will be like this—or even better."

At the time, Aunt Bing said this casually, perhaps just for New Year’s blessings. But she never imagined her words would prove prophetic. From then on, every New Year’s feast she had was more sumptuous than this one—so much so that this year’s meal seemed modest by comparison. Yet, the happiness this New Year brought her and the children remained unforgettable for the rest of their lives.

"Yao Niang, do you remember what Uncle Wengu told you about the meaning of your name?" Aunt Bing asked gently.

"I remember." Yao Niang’s face lit up with joy. She adored her name. The boys in the Sun family didn’t even have proper names, and while most children in Shanghe Village were still called by birth order, she had her own name—a special distinction.

"Uncle Wengu said 'Jing' means calm and composed, but not in the sense of being dull or passive. It means staying level-headed in the face of trouble, remaining unshaken and serene. 'Yao' means jade—a symbol of preciousness, representing how much you and the Bing family cherish me. Together, 'Jingyao' means 'serene as precious jade among treasures.'"

Uncle Wengu had only explained this to Yao Niang once, but she remembered it word for word. Once, she even murmured about the meaning of her name in her sleep.

Jingwan blinked her big eyes and smiled sweetly. "Sister’s name has a special meaning, and mine wasn’t chosen carelessly either. Uncle Wengu said 'Jing' is the same as Sister’s, while 'Wan' means gentle and graceful. But it’s not about being meek or submissive—it’s about being gentle yet resilient, overcoming hardness with softness. 'Jingwan' together means he hopes I’ll grow into someone ambitious, passionate, clear-minded, and destined for greatness."

Yes—greatness.

Aunt Bing looked at Wan Niang. When Uncle Wengu explained the meaning of the name, she had been stunned. A girl, yet he gave her a name full of ambition, hoping she would accomplish remarkable things. Aunt Bing couldn’t fathom how a young girl could achieve so much.

But she knew Uncle Wengu wouldn’t have explained the name’s meaning so seriously if he hadn’t truly meant it. He genuinely held such expectations for the child.

Aunt Bing had always known her eldest brother was unorthodox, and this name only reinforced that.

Who didn’t pin their hopes for remarkable accomplishments on their sons while expecting their daughters to be gentle and obedient? Yet Uncle Wengu was different—he held equally high expectations for boys, girls, and dual-natured children alike.

Sometimes Aunt Bing wondered how a man raised on Confucian classics could naturally believe in the equality of men, women, and dual-natured people. And it wasn’t just empty words—he lived by it, doing better than anyone else in the village.

Aunt Bing looked down at the dual-natured child in her arms. The Suns had claimed Ying Geer was unlucky, a cursed child born with innate misfortune. But in her eyes, Ying Geer was the real blessing.

Without Ying Geer, she would still be trapped in the hell of the Sun family, suffering a living death.

But because of Ying Geer’s arrival, she escaped that nightmare. She had no milk to feed Ying Geer, yet the child never went hungry—there was always goat milk.

Just ask around the nearby villages—how many children, whether boys, girls, or dual-natured, grew up drinking goat milk when their mothers couldn’t nurse them?

And that wasn’t all. Her Ying Geer was born into a house of proper brick-and-tile. If that wasn’t good fortune, what was?

Aunt Bing’s gaze at Ying Geer was filled with a mother’s tenderest love. She whispered softly, "Our Ying Geer’s name wasn’t chosen lightly either. 'Xi Ying'—'Xi' means prosperity, optimism, and a promising future. 'Ying' means brilliance, luster, and preciousness. Your uncle Wengu hopes you’ll grow up sunny and full of bright promise."

As she spoke, a tear rolled down her cheek.

Yao Niang and Wan Niang drew close in concern. "Mother, why are you crying all of a sudden?"

Not wanting to scare them, Aunt Bing quickly wiped her tears. "Mother is crying from happiness—just like the idiom Jin Geer taught us, 'so happy it brings tears.' You’re blessed children. Even in the countryside, you have beautiful names full of meaning. Your futures will be bright."

The mother and children nestled together, content and at peace with each other.

Aunt Bing whispered to the two girls, "Your uncle Wengu truly cares for you. Since you have no father, from now on, honor him as your own father. Never forget this, no matter what."

Yao Niang and Wan Niang nodded earnestly.

Bing Wengu overheard the conversation between Aunt Bing and her two daughters, but he pretended not to hear. His eyes shifted from the book to Nan Jinping. "If you're tired, go back to sleep. No need to force yourself to stay up."

Nan Jinping shook his head, trying to shake off the drowsiness. "No, I want to stay up for the New Year's Eve vigil. You’re taking the imperial exams this year—I want to pray for your success."

Bing Wengu's stern expression instantly softened into a warm, almost foolishly affectionate smile. "My husband is a lucky star incarnate. With your prayers, I’m certain I’ll ace the exams this year."

Liang Shi, on the other side of the room, played deaf to their flirting and addressed the entire Bing family. "No one should sleep tonight. Da Lang is taking the exams this year—we all need to stay up for good luck."

Bing Wengu, who could study to pass the time, didn’t find the wait unbearable. The rest of the Bing family, however, had nothing to do and soon began slumping sleepily.

Glancing at Nan Jinping, who was struggling to keep his eyes open but still determined to stay awake, Bing Wengu thought for a moment and said, "Sitting here doing nothing is boring. Let me tell you all a story."

Bing Wengu knew many stories, all of them fascinating. With his photographic memory, retelling them was no challenge. He finally settled on a classic, beloved by young and old alike—*Journey to the West*.

As expected of a classic, Bing Wengu’s storytelling captivated the entire Bing family. Even the children were wide awake, except for the baby sleeping in Aunt Bing’s arms.

Bing Wengu talked all night until the sun rose the next day. The family was still hooked, but he refused to continue—his voice was already hoarse.

After a quick breakfast, the Bings dispersed, everyone returning to their rooms to sleep.

Soon, the Lunar New Year festivities ended, and the second-month county exams approached.

All the scholars from the local district flooded into the county seat, booking up every inn and tavern. Worried about finding lodging, Bing Wengu decided to go to the county a few days early.

The Bings didn’t really believe in him, but they couldn’t say so. Instead, they had to act as if they took it seriously.

The Bing brothers even skipped selling tofu that day, and the Nan family also took a day off from making tofu—everyone came to see their boy off for the exams.

Liang Shi and Miao Shi helped pack his belongings. Miao Shi said, "Our boy, don’t bother bringing old clothes. Your sister-in-law and I made two new sets for you before the New Year, plus the store-bought clothes you bought. How about just taking these three?"

At home, it didn’t matter what he wore, but outside, it was better to dress well to avoid being looked down upon by snobs.

"That’s fine. Discuss these things with my husband," Bing Wengu replied, focusing on packing his books while leaving the rest to Nan Jinping.

Nan Jinping had never traveled far before and had no idea what to bring, fumbling cluelessly.

Bing Wengu wasn’t worried about mistakes—they’d have plenty of chances to travel in the future. If anything was forgotten, they could always buy it along the way.

Once everything was packed, Bing Silang hitched the oxcart and loaded their belongings. Bing Wengu and Nan Jinping climbed onto the oxcart, while the Bing and Nan families walked alongside, bombarding them with advice as they slowly made their way to the village entrance.

The Nan family had never had a scholar before, so this was Miao Shi’s first time sending someone off for exams. Even though she doubted him, she couldn’t help but fret.

Worried, she piped up, "Him, is it really appropriate for Jin Geer to go with you to the county for the exams? Maybe it’s better if he stays behind."

Before Bing Wengu could respond, a screechy, taunting voice cut in.

"Well, well! Let me see—whose big shot has to bring his husband along just to take the county exams? So horny yet still hoping to pass? Dream on!"