Chapter 68: Li Erniang's Jealousy and Shattered Glass

The calmer Nan Jinping appeared, the angrier Li Erniang became. Why didn’t Nan Jinping feel jealous of her? She was the one for whom Bing Dalang had once jumped into a river!

Shouldn’t she be seething with envy at the mere sight of her, her face twisted in fury? Why was she so indifferent, as if Li Erniang meant nothing to her?

Li Erniang didn’t realize that it was her own face contorted with jealousy, her ugly emotions laid bare. "Nan Jinping, you’re well aware that Bing Dalang loves me. How long are you going to keep pretending? He once jumped into a river for me! If you had any sense, you’d withdraw with dignity while you still can. Otherwise, when Bing Dalang discards you publicly, you’ll lose all dignity."

Ping'an immediately moved to defend his master. "Didn’t learn your lesson from the last beating? Asking for another one—"

Nan Jinping raised a hand to stop Ping'an. She found herself pitying Li Erniang now. "You should leave quickly. If Wen Gu sees you here, I fear you won’t be able to endure what comes next."

But Li Erniang took this as an empty bluff. She knew exactly what Bing Dalang had been like back in the village—a worthless coward. That was why she had never spared him a second glance, choosing to wed an elder instead.

"Nan Jinping, you’re just jealous—jealous that I have Bing Dalang’s heart," Li Erniang spat.

Nan Jinping shook her head, sighed, and sidestepped her before walking away.

Ping'an fixed Li Erniang with a glare before hurrying after Nan Jinping. "My lord, don’t listen to that woman’s nonsense. She’s mad. Yesterday, she came causing trouble, and our master personally ordered her driven away. I told her as much, but she refused to believe me, insisting I was lying."

"You can’t reason with someone determined to perish," Nan Jinping’s voice drifted back to Li Erniang’s ears.

Li Erniang refused to believe it. She couldn’t accept that in just a few short months, Bing Dalang had truly grown so cold toward her.

She was convinced he still resented her for marrying another man—and wasn’t that proof he still cared? No resentment without lingering affection. If she just persisted, she’d win back his heart eventually.

Three days later, Jiang Jinghuai sent a servant to the Bing residence with an invitation to his estate.

Bing Wengu knew this meant Jiang Jinghuai had secured a storyteller—it was time for the performance.

Wanting Nan Jinping’s family to witness the debut of his storybook in the storyteller’s hall, Bing Wengu invited Nan Jinping’s elder brother and Bing Silang along.

Since they hadn’t been informed beforehand, both men were eagerly surprised upon hearing the news. They quickly changed clothes and set off with Bing Wengu and Nan Jinping for Marquis Wu’an’s estate. Ping'an, though a servant, was also included—this was Nan Jinping’s moment of glory, after all.

Ping'an drove the ox cart while Bing Wengu, Nan Jinping, and the others rode inside, moving at a relaxed pace toward Marquis Wu’an’s residence.

With the curfew lifted in Bianjing, the city bustled through the night.

It took some time before they arrived at Marquis Wu’an’s estate.

Bing Wengu and Nan Jinping stepped forward to knock, while Ping'an and the other two waited in the cart.

Nan Jinping’s elder brother wasn’t well acquainted with Jiang Jinghuai, having only met him twice when he visited Nan Jinping. He dared not enter the estate, fearing he might cause trouble for Bing Wengu and Nan Jinping.

Bing Silang, though eager to gain some experience, also hesitated—he barely knew Jiang Jinghuai and didn’t want to impose.

Bing Wengu knocked three times and waited. Soon, the gatekeeper’s voice called out, "Who seeks entry to Marquis Wu’an’s estate?"

Bing Wengu replied, "I am Bing Wengu, and this is scholar Nan Jinping. We come at the invitation of Fourth Young Master Jiang Jinghuai."

Though Jiang Jinghuai knew Nan Jinping’s true gender, Bing Wengu didn’t introduce her as his husband.

In formal visits to noble households, it was customary for shuang er (male attendants) to receive guests. In their absence, female family members would step in. Male peers never hosted directly—only courtesans were brought in without ceremony.

Not wanting to stir unnecessary attention, Bing Wengu avoided mentioning Nan Jinping’s true gender. Fortunately, Nan Jinping’s faint brow mole and men’s scholar robes concealed the truth.

Soon, the side gate opened, and the gatekeeper appeared. "Ah, Lords Bing and Nan! Please, come in. Our Fourth Young Master has asked that you wait in the hall. He’s been delayed but will join you shortly."

The hall of the Marquis's residence was remarkably refined, with furniture and chairs crafted from high-quality pear wood.

On the wall opposite the entrance hung a portrait of a figure clad in armor, wielding a red spear, adorned with a red tassel, and seated atop a majestic horse, exuding an imposing aura.

Bing Wengu guessed that the person in the painting must be the Martial Virtue General of the Wu'an Marquis's residence—Jiang Jinghuai's honored grandfather.

Flanking the painting were a pair of couplets. The upper line read: "Devote oneself entirely to bringing glory to the nation." The lower line read: "Serve the country until one's dying day." The horizontal scroll bore the words: "Loyalty to the Nation Above All."

The calligraphy on the couplets flowed like a dragon in motion, bold yet controlled, clearly the work of someone with a resolute character. The strokes suggested they were penned by a martial artist.

Bing Wengu surmised that this must be the handwriting of the Marquis of Wu'an himself.

In front of the couplets stood an antique square table with coin and dragon-tooth motifs, flanked by official's armchairs on either side.

Below, on both the left and right, were visitors' chairs arranged facing each other, with round chairs paired and separated by a tall four-cornered side table.

Bing Wengu and Nan Jinping naturally took the first and second seats on the left side below.

In Dayong custom, the left side was considered the seat of honor. The host usually sat on the right side above, leaving the left vacant in anticipation of distinguished guests.

Bing Wengu, only a county scholar, and Nan Jinping, without official rank, were not esteemed enough to occupy the honored seats, so they sat below.

Nan Jinping had been discreetly observing the scenery along the way through the Marquis's residence. Now, seeing the gatekeeper withdraw, she whispered to Bing Wengu, "The Marquis's residence is truly exquisite—a new vista every five steps, every ten steps a sight, with pavilions, towers, covered walkways, and winding corridors. It further convinces me that the scenario in the storybook trope, where an outsider accidentally wanders into the inner courtyard, is utterly impossible."

Bing Wengu chuckled, "Of course. Not only do wealthy households have numerous cleaning and guarding servants, but the side gates leading from the outer to the inner courtyards aren’t so easily found either."

Nan Jinping nodded and was about to say more when a servant entered to serve tea, so she fell silent.

In the inner study of the Wu'an Marquis's residence, Elder Marquis Jiang was reprimanding Jiang Jinghuai. "Look at the mess you’ve made! If I hadn’t asked, I wouldn’t have known you were rehearsing some storybook trope about Shuang'er returning from the dead to seek revenge on her husband’s family. What nonsense is this? Don’t you know those stuffy Confucian pedants despise such unfilial and disrespectful tales?"

"That Dong Geer, after her rebirth, didn’t remarry her former husband or have anything to do with her former mother-in-law, so what filial piety or respect are we even talking about?" Jiang Jinghuai countered defiantly. "Does that mean we should practice filial piety toward any old man we bump into on the street?"

"You’re twisting words deliberately!" Elder Marquis Jiang slammed the tea table hard. "Look at the kind of friends you’ve been associating with lately—leading you further astray with these unorthodox ideas!"

Jiang Jinghuai remained unfazed. "Grandfather, one of these so-called unorthodox friends you speak of is none other than the 'Little Triple Champion' who has kept Cousin as the eternal second-place."

Elder Marquis Jiang was taken aback, then frowned and pondered for a moment. "I have indeed read Scholar Bing’s examination papers from the academy."

Jiang Jinghuai grew interested. "How does Grandfather think they compare to Cousin’s?"

Elder Marquis Jiang glanced at him. "Your cousin’s essays are ornate and elegant, with refined phrasing—veritable gems of literature. Scholar Bing’s writings are plainer but substantive. Overall, each has their merits. But given their backgrounds, it’s unavoidable. Scholar Bing, having worked the fields himself, naturally has a deeper understanding of agriculture. Your cousin, coming from an official family, even if he cares about farming, can’t match someone who grew up among crops."

Hearing his grandfather’s relatively favorable assessment of Bing Wengu, Jiang Jinghuai asked curiously, "So whom does Grandfather favor more?"

"Your cousin, of course," Elder Marquis Jiang said. "Scholar Bing merely got lucky—the academy’s three exams all happened to focus on agriculture, which earned him the 'Little Triple Champion.' If the provincial exams don’t cover farming, he’ll have no advantage whatsoever. Your cousin will undoubtedly win."

Jiang Jinghuai also leaned toward his cousin’s side. Though he couldn’t fully grasp the intricacies of scholarly writing, he knew his cousin’s talent was praised even by the Imperial Academy’s chancellor and the great Confucian scholars of Bianjing. How could he lose to some rustic scholar?

"Moreover, there's word His Majesty intends to award the top honors to someone from the Imperial Academy this time. The Academy is a place for classical scholarship—it doesn’t require expertise in farming. So your cousin stands a much higher chance," Elder Marquis Jiang analyzed logically.

Jiang Jinghuai suddenly smirked mischievously. "If that’s the case, Cousin can finally ease that lingering resentment."

Elder Marquis Jiang asked, "What do you mean?"

Jiang Jinghuai recounted how Bing Wengu had mocked Shen Qinghe as the "eternal second-place."

"What an insolent youth!"

Jiang Jinghuai grinned. "Grandfather, you’re not wrong. Yuan Ting really is a bit audacious. Even after learning Cousin’s true identity, he remained unrepentant."

Elder Marquis Jiang sighed, "I hope he has the genuine ability to back up his arrogance."

"So, may I join Yuan Ting and the others now?"

Elder Marquis Jiang glared at Jiang Jinghuai, "No foolishness."

This meant tacit approval. Watching his grandson's retreating figure, Elder Marquis Jiang sighed deeply, unable to discern the future of the Wu'an Marquis household, let alone Jiang Jinghuai's future.

Though the Wu'an Marquis residence appeared prosperous on the surface, it had long been excluded from imperial court affairs.

Elder Marquis Jiang's military authority had been revoked by the Emperor, leaving him to retire at home with only the empty titles of Marquis Wu'an and General of Martial Virtue—impressive in name but devoid of real power.

Thanks to Elder Marquis Jiang's military achievements, his descendants enjoyed imperial favor. Jiang Jinghuai's father held a sixth-rank position as the prefect of Yanzhou. His three elder brothers all served in the Yanzhou Army under their father's command: the eldest as a Baoyi Lang (ninth-rank), the second and third as Chengjie Lang and Chengxin Lang (both subordinate ninth-rank), respectively.

Currently, Jiang Jinghuai held no official post, leaving Elder Marquis Jiang deeply concerned about his future. Sending him to the Yanzhou Army was out of the question—one shouldn't put all eggs in one basket.

If Jiang Jinghuai remained in Bianjing, he wasn't strong in literature, though his martial prowess was decent.

Elder Marquis Jiang had originally planned for him to take the military examinations once the Emperor reinstated them. With Jiang Jinghuai's martial skills, earning a military examination rank would have secured his future.

But the Emperor showed no signs of reopening the military exams, and Jiang Jinghuai couldn't afford extended idleness—prolonged inactivity would only waste his potential.

Now, Elder Marquis Jiang had no choice but to rethink Jiang Jinghuai's future.

It was precisely because of the Marquis household's precarious middle position that Elder Marquis Jiang didn't oppose Jiang Jinghuai's association with Bing Wengu.

If Bing Wengu could secure a high rank in the civil exams and obtain an official post, he might at least serve as a potential ally to Jiang Jinghuai.

Jiang Jinghuai first returned to his inner study, where Shen Qinghe was waiting for him. Shen Qinghe wanted no part of listening to his grandfather's reprimands and had slipped away after paying his respects.

Jiang Jinghuai strode into the study casually and said to Shen Qinghe, "Cousin, let's go. Yuan Ting and Jin Geer arrived ages ago and have been waiting in the outer study for quite some time."

Shen Qinghe had been smarting from Bing Wengu's "eternal second-place" remark, immersing himself in study and writing incessantly. Worried he'd exhaust himself, Jiang Jinghuai had invited him out for a break, especially since Nan Jinping's new storybook had arrived.

The two left the inner courtyard and entered the outer hall, where Bing Wengu had already finished three cups of tea.

"Apologies, Yuan Ting, Jin Geer. My grandfather needed to discuss something with me, so we were delayed," Jiang Jinghuai said apologetically.

Bing Wengu replied, "It's nothing."

Nan Jinping was equally unconcerned and greeted Shen Qinghe beside her, "Long time no see, Lord Shen. How have you been?"

Shen Qinghe clasped his hands toward Jiang Jinghuai, "Thank you for your concern, Master Nan. All is well."

Jiang Jinghuai had already informed Shen Qinghe of Nan Jinping's gender, so it was no longer appropriate to address her by her courtesy name.

Turning to Bing Wengu, Shen Qinghe pointedly ignored him, pretending not to see him.

Bing Wengu paid no heed. "Shall we go?"

Jiang Jinghuai nodded. Just as they stepped into the outer courtyard, they saw several servants hurriedly escorting a craftsman out, looking flustered.

"What's the commotion about?" Jiang Jinghuai asked a servant.

A maidservant answered, "Fourth Lord, one of the maidservants attending the Lady accidentally broke her ornament box. The Lady is furious, and the Marquis has summoned the craftsman to see if it can be repaired."

The craftsman bowed to Jiang Jinghuai, "Young Lord, the bottom layer of the ornament box's colored glaze is shattered beyond repair. But the top two layers are intact. I'll modify it into a two-tiered box—the alteration will be undetectable."

Jiang Jinghuai remembered this ornament box and said regretfully, "How could the maidservant be so careless? The Lady always handles this box with utmost care. I recall last year, for her birthday, my grandfather called in favors to purchase it for 3,000 strings of coins."

Upon hearing the price of a hefty sum of 3000 guan, Nan Jinping turned to look at the colored glaze jewelry box, her eyes widening in surprise.

The craftsman opened the box to give Nan Jinping a closer look, and Bing Wengu also caught a full glimpse of the colored glaze jewelry box. Its novelty lay in being made of transparent colored glaze. In truth, colored glaze was essentially glass, but due to the immature glassmaking techniques of the time, glass was a luxury.

Later, merchants from the Western Regions did bring some glass products, but instead of lowering prices, they sent them soaring.

To distinguish between locally produced glass and imported glass, the people of Dayong adopted different terms: locally made glass was called "colored glaze," while imported glass retained the name "glass."

As Bing Wengu examined the shattered colored glaze, an idea struck him—he wanted to create something novel for Nan Jinping.

Bing Wengu asked, "What will be done with the broken piece of glass?"

The craftsman replied, "Colored glaze is similar to jade—when shattered, it can be inlaid with gold or silver. However, this piece has a small hole in the middle, and even if repaired, it would affect its appearance. Her Ladyship decided to turn it into a two-level jewelry box instead."

Bing Wengu turned to Jiang Jinghuai and said, "Since that piece of colored glaze is no longer needed, could I buy it? I’m willing to pay 10 guan for it."

Jiang Jinghuai glanced at Bing Wengu, then at Nan Jinping. "This is for Jin Geer, right? But what do you plan to do with it?"

Bing Wengu replied, "I can’t say yet. I want to surprise Jin Geer on Qixi Festival (Chinese Valentine’s Day)."

Jiang Jinghuai snorted. "With that attitude of yours, I ought to knock you down a peg—it’d be good to humble you a bit. But for Jin Geer’s sake, fine. Just take the glass."

"I’ll pay the 10 guan."

"As if I need your 10 guan? If it weren’t for Jin Geer, I wouldn’t give it to you today."

Nan Jinping quickly interjected, "Thank you, Si Lang."

Jiang Jinghuai’s face twisted. "You’d only ask me for something like this for Jin Geer’s sake. If it were for yourself, you never would."

Bing Wengu remained indifferent. He pursued what he wanted on his own terms, willing to wait ten or twenty years if necessary—never one to beg.

"I owe you one," Bing Wengu said. "Someday, I’ll treat you to something you’ve never eaten before."

"Oh? There’s actually food in Bianjing that I, the young master, haven’t tried? You’re full of it."

Bing Wengu replied casually, "Just wait and see."

The craftsman left the broken colored glaze behind, to be collected when they returned from the *washe* entertainment district.

Bing Wengu and Nan Jinping climbed into Jiang Jinghuai’s carriage, while Nan Dalang and Bing Silang followed behind in an ox-drawn cart.

Heading east from the Xuande Gate, the main entrance of the imperial palace, they reached the East Corner Tower. Here, a crossroads stretched out, with Jiang’s Market to the south. Proceeding north along Gaotou Street, past the gauze shops, they arrived at Huamen Street, Chenhui Gate, and Baolu Palace, eventually reaching the old Suanzao Gate.

This area was densely packed with shops, the busiest district. In recent years, the roads near the imperial city had been widened.

To the east lay the famous Panlou Street, with the Eagle Shop to the south. The rest of the street was lined with stores selling jewelry, fabrics, spices, and medicines. Further in, a market opened daily at the fifth watch, offering clothing, antiques, calligraphy, paintings, and precious stones. After dawn, butchers sold lamb and such. Further east was the Xu Family *hugeng* Shop. To the south stood the Sang Family Entertainment Tower, while the Middle Entertainment House lay to the north, and beyond that, the Inner Entertainment House.

It was the Inner Entertainment House that Bing Wengu and his companions sought—home to over fifty theaters of varying sizes.

Along the way, they passed countless street snacks. Bing Wengu noticed Nan Jinping’s eyes sparkling as she gazed at them. Knowing she had endured hardship in her childhood, deprived of such treats, he understood her current craving.

Bing Wengu bought two *hu bing*—the most common street snack in Dayong, beloved by many. Spotting *la jiaozi* (spicy pickled mustard greens) for sale, he added a portion, as they went great with *hu bing*.

*La jiaozi* wasn’t made from chili peppers—it was actually pickled mustard root. The roots were washed, peeled, cut into strips, and cured in jars for two weeks to make *la jiaozi*. If marinated overnight with vinegar and sesame oil, it became *la cai*.

Dayong folks loved heat, but at this time, chilies hadn’t made their way there yet.

Dayong folks get their daily kick from scallions, ginger, garlic, dogwood, mustard, pepper, leeks, smartweed, Chinese chives, mustard greens, and pickled mustard tubers.

In Shanghe Village, just getting by was a struggle for Nan Jinping—she'd never tasted much spiciness. So after arriving in Bianjing, she became utterly hooked on it. Pickled mustard tuber and spicy mustard greens almost always graced their dining table.

Thus, when Bing Wengu handed Nan Jinping the flatbread paired with pickled mustard tuber, she grinned so hard her eyes disappeared.

Jiang Jinghuai rolled his eyes so hard they might’ve stuck. "Do you really only have eyes for Jin Ge'er? Forget about me and cousin, but you didn’t even buy any for your *gefu* or Silang."

Big Brother Nan quickly waved him off awkwardly. "No need, no need. I don’t really like the snacks my brother-in-law buys. I prefer to get what I like myself."

In truth, Big Brother Nan enjoyed all kinds of snacks—he wasn’t picky at all. But faced with the dazzling array of street food, he could barely move his feet, secretly wiping his mouth more than once.

Bing Silang simply shrugged. "I’ve long gotten used to it. You’ll slowly adapt too."

Bing Wengu didn’t bother arguing with them. He then bought a portion of pretzel twists, as well as sugar cakes and cheese curds—the former being sweet cakes, the latter resembling milk curd.

"Wen Gu, my hands are full!" Nan Jinping said, still holding her half-eaten flatbread. "Let’s stop here for now."

Bing Wengu simply took everything from her, letting Nan Jinping focus on enjoying her flatbread.

"Ugh, PDA is the worst," Jiang Jinghuai snorted, buying two steamed buns stuffed with sweet bean paste—one for Shen Qinghe and one for himself.

These "tangy buns" weren’t actually sour but filled with sweet bean paste or mustard greens, both categorized under the same name.

Jiang Jinghuai wolfed his down in two bites, lacking any of the Young Noble’s usual elegance. After finishing, he shook his head in disapproval. "Not tasty. I’ve been obsessed with your family’s three-flavored dried tofu lately—nothing else appeals to me now. If your family set up a stall here in the entertainment district, it’d be packed tighter than a dumpling."

Bing Silang sighed. "The inner entertainment district is too crowded—there’s no space left. Besides, we don’t have the connections to secure a spot even if we wanted to."

At this, Jiang Jinghuai smirked at Bing Wengu. "Yuan Ting, kowtow to me, *Young Noble*. There’s no problem in Bianjing I can’t solve."

"They still have to study. No time for that," Bing Wengu replied flatly.

"What? Schoolwork? At your big age?" Jiang Jinghuai was stunned.

Bing Silang chuckled bitterly. "Young Noble, haven’t you noticed we only set up our street stall in the mornings? It’s not that we’re lazy—it’s just that Elder Brother despises our lack of education and makes us go back in the afternoon to study with our brother-in-law."

Jiang Jinghuai felt deep sympathy for Bing Silang. As someone who also hated studying, he could relate. "That’s just tragic—having to study at your age. I swear, the moment I pick up those classical texts, my personality shifts—I pass out like I’ve been hit with a classics textbook."

"Don’t listen to Jinghuai. Studying more is never a bad thing. You really should read more," Shen Qinghe said, looking at Bing Wengu with renewed admiration. This man’s insight was truly unlike that of a farmer’s son.

At the same time, he was even more impressed by Bing Wengu’s methods. Wrangling these country boys into obediently studying was no easy feat—especially for those raised in the countryside without formal education. Getting them to willingly hit the books was like herding cats uphill.

Jiang Jinghuai then pulled out an oil-paper package from his sleeve, revealing spicy dried tofu inside.

He offered it to everyone. Big Brother Nan and Bing Silang waved him off awkwardly—talk about awkward, taking back what you sold?

Nan Jinping, however, accepted it graciously, nibbling on it with her flatbread. Jiang Jinghuai deliberately skipped Bing Wengu, teasing, "Jin Ge'er, don’t you dare share with Yuan Ting."

Nan Jinping smiled and, when Jiang Jinghuai wasn’t looking, slid him a bite under the table. Bing Wengu hadn’t planned on eating any, but since Nan Jinping offered, he took a bite—even making sure to leave a shiny, spicy smear on his lips.

"We’re here," Jiang Jinghuai announced, turning around just in time to see Bing Wengu’s oil-stained lips. He groaned, “You’re impossible.”

Bing Wengu tilted his head, pulling out a handkerchief to delicately wipe his lips. "Oops, clumsy me."

"Stop pretending. You did that on purpose just to show off."

Bing Wengu smiled. Jiang Jinghuai wanted to wipe that smirk off with his fist. "If you weren’t a scholar, I’d have schooled you a dozen times before breakfast."

"Go ahead. Even as a scholar, I could spot you an arm and still school you." Bing Wengu dangled the words like a cat batting at yarn.

"Cousin, I really want to punch him!" Jiang Jinghuai shouted angrily at Shen Qinghe.

Shen Qinghe replied, "You know I've wanted to punch him for a long time too."

"No, I must punch him," Jiang Jinghuai declared. "After your civil service exams are over—I won’t touch you during the exams in case I hurt your hand and affect your performance, like I’m helping you cheat. But once the exams are done, I’m going to beat you senseless."

Jiang Jinghuai then turned to Nan Jinping and said, "Jin Geer, this time you’re not allowed to stop me."

He expected Nan Jinping to dissuade him, given that he was a trained fighter since he was a kid. If the military civil service exams were currently open, snagging the top rank would be like picking candy from a baby for him.

To his surprise, Jin Geer calmly replied, "Fine." Then, cool as a cucumber, he took another ring-shaped cake from Bing Wengu and continued eating.

"Aren’t you afraid he’ll get beaten?" Jiang Jinghuai couldn’t believe Nan Jinping’s attitude.

"I’m more worried about you," Nan Jinping said. He knew all too well about Bing Wengu’s rep—like single-handedly taking down over twenty burly men from the Sun family.

Moreover, Nan Jinping seemed to have had some weird dream visions—things so bizarre he wasn’t sure if they were real. This was the perfect opportunity to test it out through Jiang Jinghuai.

"Fine, this fight is definitely happening. I was even thinking that if you pleaded for him, I’d spare him for your sake..."

"Young Master, Young Master, you’re here!" Jiang Jinghuai’s words were cut off as a man of average height and unremarkable appearance approached, grinning like a suck-up as he fawned over Jiang Jinghuai and Shen Qinghe.