Chapter 80: Proposal Rejected

The Right Chancellor's carriage stood parked outside the Bing residence, devoid of any ostentation or luxury typically associated with the Chancellor's household—instead, it was remarkably understated.

For some reason, the sight of this unassuming carriage did not put Nan Jinping at ease. Instead, a heavy sense of unease welled up in her heart.

"Don’t worry. Your husband isn’t some soft dough that anyone can knead at will. I’m a steel blade—kick me, and their foot will break," Bing Wengu reassured, gently patting the back of her hand twice.

Though Nan Jinping remained uneasy, there was nothing she could do. After all, this was the Right Chancellor’s residence, not a place anyone could enter or leave freely.

Not wanting to add unnecessary pressure to Bing Wengu at such a time, she suppressed her anxiety and forced a carefree smile. "I know you’re both brave and resourceful, but we’re newcomers here, and the Right Chancellor’s residence isn’t like any other place. If you encounter anything or anyone that displeases you, for heaven's sake, endure it."

*Husband!*

The word sent Bing Wengu’s heart soaring, his grin unstoppable.

If not for the inopportune timing and location, he would have loved nothing more than to immediately take his adorable spouse right then and there. At this moment, his dislike for the Right Chancellor’s household deepened—what a nuisance, interrupting his time with his beloved.

Leaning down, his eyes soft with affection, his thin lower lip nearly brushing Nan Jinping’s earlobe as he whispered hotly, "Don’t worry, my dear. Wait for me to return..."

Before stepping into the carriage, Bing Wengu cast one last glance at Nan Jinping—his gaze unabashedly intense.

For the first time, Nan Jinping did not react with shyness to such a blatant look.

As the Right Chancellor’s carriage gradually disappeared into the distance, Nan Jinping’s calm mask crumbled, revealing the anxiety and panic she had been suppressing.

The intensity of her emotions affected Bing Silang and Nan Jinping’s elder brother as well.

The elder brother was already nervous beyond belief, his mind conjuring countless scenarios—none of them favorable.

Yet, despite his own distress, he still managed to comfort her. "Jin Geer (young master), don’t worry. Your *husband* may seem cold and sharp-tongued, but he’s actually quite shrewd. He won’t come to harm easily. Don’t let your worry distract him while he deals with a cunning old fox like the Right Chancellor."

Nan Jinping shook her head. "How can I not worry? We’ve just offended his lady, and now he’s summoned Wen Gu. What good could come of it? But tell me, brother—did I show my unease too obviously earlier?"

"Very obviously," Bing Silang answered.

"But I was trying so hard to hide it! I didn’t want Wen Gu to notice my anxiety and worry about me while facing the Right Chancellor."

Bing Silang shook his head. "It wasn’t written on your face. You slipped up in your words. When have you ever called my elder brother *husband* in front of us? Yet you did just now. That alone shows how unsettled you were."

Only then did Nan Jinping realize.

Meanwhile, Elder Marquis Jiang and Jiang Jinghuai were at the Shen residence, where the atmosphere was lively. Shen Qinghe’s achievement as *Tanhua*—the second-ranked scholar in the imperial examination—was already impressive, and a steady stream of congratulatory visitors kept arriving.

Shen Ru Jun, Shen Qinghe’s father, had reserved a banquet at the finest restaurant to host the guests.

Seizing a rare moment to speak privately, Elder Marquis Jiang sighed. "I truly thought Qing He would surely take the top honors this time. Who would have guessed Bing Wengu would emerge as the dark horse?"

Shen Ru Jun glanced at Shen Qinghe, his gaze gentle and without blame. "Father-in-law, there’s no need to take it to heart. In fact, I believe San Lang’s loss may be a blessing in disguise. He’s had everything handed to him since birth, everything going his way. This stumble, though not too severe, serves to humble him—to remind him that there are always greater talents beyond his reach. One must never underestimate others, for heroes can rise from the humblest origins."

Elder Marquis Jiang sighed. Though anxious for his grandson’s future, he refrained from adding undue pressure.

"A single defeat means little. The title of *Zhuangyuan* doesn’t determine ultimate success. Bing Wengu, after all, comes from a farming family, is already married, and lacks influential backing—his official path ahead will be arduous. Qing He has the support of the Shen family and our marquisate. His career will undoubtedly be smoother. Who’s to say he won’t achieve greatness through steady accumulation?"

Shen Qinghe bowed respectfully. "This grandson will remember Grandfather’s teachings and be more prudent henceforth."

Elder Marquis Jiang nodded. "Jing Huai mentioned that you and Bing Wengu collaborated on the kaleidoscope trade, which has been thriving—and the formula was his invention. This proves he’s no pedantic scholar. The young man has real talent. If his character is sound, you two should deepen your ties with him. Ideally, bring him under your wing—he may yet become a right-hand man in the future."

"Yes," Jiang Jinghuai and Shen Qinghe replied in unison.

Shen Rujun said, "Today is your big day. You should go invite him to join the celebration. Jinghuai, Qinghe, the two of you should personally extend the invitation. Remember, talented individuals often possess great pride—you must treat them with utmost respect and humility."

"Yes."

Jiang Jinghuai and Shen Qinghe personally went to the Bing residence to invite Bing Wengu, only to find out he had been called to the Right Chancellor’s place. They exchanged worried looks, their mutual concern evident.

"Is there a problem at the Right Chancellor's place?" Nan Jinping asked anxiously. "Wengu and I are not involved in government matters, so we don’t know the Right Chancellor’s character. Both of you have connections—surely you understand him better. Is there any cause for concern with Wengu going there? Could the Right Chancellor truly be coming after us over the matter with Mrs. Mei?"

"That’s unlikely. Mrs. Mei was clearly in the wrong for trying to forcibly purchase the kaleidoscope. Besides, while the Right Chancellor isn’t particularly magnanimous, he wouldn’t come after you over such a trivial matter." Jiang Jinghuai thought of Mrs. Mei’s divorced status and had a hunch, though he hesitated to share it with Nan Jinping.

Explaining wouldn’t solve anything—it would only make Nan Jinping even more anxious. It was better to wait until Bing Wengu returned.

With guests still waiting at the Shen residence, Shen Qinghe and Jiang Jinghuai had no choice but to leave.

Meanwhile, Bing Wengu sat in the carriage on his way to the Right Chancellor’s residence, not the least bit nervous. His mind was still replaying Nan Jinping calling him 'husband,' which made his heart skip a beat.

He remembered the notorious King You of Zhou from history, who had lit beacon fires to amuse his beloved, at the cost of his kingdom. Once, Bing Wengu had mocked him for being foolish, but now he understood, even empathized—perhaps even surpassed it in his own way.

Lost in thought, the carriage arrived at the Right Chancellor’s residence and came to a halt.

Bing Wengu leisurely stepped out and, guided by the gatekeeper, walked in like he owned the place rather than answering a summons.

In the main hall, the Right Chancellor sat at the head, Zhao Shi seated below, and Mrs. Mei standing nearby.

Zhao Shi looked upset. "Our daughter has good family, good looks—what’s wrong with her? Why must you push her to marry some nobody?"

The Right Chancellor fumed, his beard shaking. "That 'nobody' is the Emperor’s personally appointed Zhuangyuan! Watch your mouth! Have you no fear of retribution?"

"What does it matter if he’s a Zhuangyuan? His ancestors were still farmers—calling him a peasant isn’t wrong!" Zhao Shi shot back stubbornly. "I don’t understand why you hold our child in such contempt, forcing her to marry beneath her station."

Her grievances poured forth. "Last time, you chose a peasant-born husband for her. And what happened? That wretched Zheng boy turned out to be a backstabbing ingrate! After all we did for him, he took a concubine—even let her conceive before our daughter! Where was her dignity in that? We made sure that concubine lost the baby—it was too lenient!"

"You!" The Right Chancellor pointed at her, trembling with fury. "We both know the truth of that matter."

Zhao Shi looked the other way. "I know nothing. All I know is that Zheng boy was a piece of trash."

"After one disaster, you still refuse to learn! You’d repeat the same mistake, marrying her off to another Zheng-like ingrate? Have you no fear of history repeating itself? I won’t allow it!"

"You have no say in this!" The Right Chancellor slammed the table.

"No say? She’s not my child? Was the palace’s Consort Shu not my child either? How dare you claim I have no say!"

The Right Chancellor let out a tired sigh. "Can’t you see my intentions? Others may not know our daughter’s circumstances, but we three do. I’ve thoroughly investigated this Bing Zhuangyuan—his family has a spotless record, he holds no power in court, easy to control. Most importantly, he adores his husband—deeply. He’s a man who cherishes his spouse."

"Moreover, Bing Wengu isn’t like that useless Zheng boy. In the short time since arriving in Bianjing from the countryside, he’s already partnered with Shen Sanlang and Jiang Silang in business."

Zhao Shi scoffed. "What business? Chump change—not even worth the loose change from my fingers."

"Stop exaggerating! That kaleidoscope—your daughter bought one for a hundred thousand strings of cash! And you call that 'chump change'?"

Zhao Shi gasped. "The kaleidoscope business is his?"

"Of course. Why else would I insist on him? He’s profitable, devoted to his spouse—where else would we find someone so suited for our daughter?"

Zhao Shi still felt Bing Wengu wasn't worthy of her daughter and was about to argue further when Mrs. Mei quickly interjected, "Mother, I agree."

Zhao Shi was stunned, then tears began to stream down her face. "My poor child has suffered... how mature you've become..."

Mrs. Mei hurriedly wiped Zhao Shi's tears. "Actually, it's not so bad, Mother. I've seen that Bing Zhuangyuan before—he's actually quite handsome."

Zhao Shi stopped crying abruptly. "Do you have a portrait? Let me see."

Indeed, there was a portrait of Bing Wengu. When Zhao Shi picked it up, she couldn’t help but be stunned by the man depicted.

The man in the portrait stood tall and imposing, with strikingly handsome features—an aggressive kind of handsomeness. Yet, such an aggressive appearance on this man didn’t provoke dislike. Instead, it added a unique aura to him, enhancing his masculine charm.

Zhao Shi was momentarily dazed. When she regained her composure, she stubbornly remarked, "The portrait is... acceptable, I suppose. Who knows what he really looks like? If he’s even half as handsome as this, it’d be decent enough."

"Mother, he’s better looking in the flesh. The portrait can’t capture his presence," Mrs. Mei said, lowering her head bashfully.

"You’ve always been shallow about looks since you were little. Fine, if he truly looks like this portrait, then he might just barely be worthy of my daughter."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. "My lord, Bing Zhuangyuan has arrived."

The Right Chancellor gave Zhao Shi and Mrs. Mei a meaningful glance, and the women retreated into the inner hall.

From the inner hall, they could clearly hear the conversation in the outer hall without being seen themselves.

After about the time it takes to drink half a cup of tea, footsteps sounded outside, and the door was knocked on again. The Right Chancellor cleared his throat. "Enter."

The attendant then showed Bing Wengu in.

This was Bing Wengu’s first time meeting the Right Chancellor. His first impression was of a shrewd old fox—just like those old foxes back in the interstellar era.

Such men might have grabbed their chances in youth, risen to high positions, and lost their edge after growing accustomed to wealth and power. They sought to control him. In the end, Bing Wengu had subdued every single one of them. He truly wished he could introduce the Right Chancellor to his former colleagues and let him hear their opinions of him—how they scurried like rats from a cat at the mere sight of him.

As Bing Wengu sized up the Right Chancellor, the latter was also assessing him. This was the Right Chancellor’s first time seeing Bing Wengu in person, and he was even more pleased—just as Mrs. Mei had said, Bing Wengu was better looking in the flesh. The portrait couldn’t capture the air of authority that radiated from him. Such presence was rare even among the children of high-ranking officials, and if a family was fortunate enough to raise one, they would undoubtedly become the leader of the next generation.

Thus, the Right Chancellor grew even more satisfied with Bing Wengu, nodding in approval.

"First, congratulations on coming top in the exams," the Right Chancellor said, casually gesturing for Bing Wengu to sit.

Bing Wengu didn’t put on airs. When the Right Chancellor invited him to sit, he did so without hesitation, without any false modesty.

Unexpectedly, the more unpretentious he was, the more the Right Chancellor approved. A true man should be humble but not weak, remaining composed in both favor and disgrace—only then could he stand tall between heaven and earth.

Stroking his beard, the Right Chancellor didn’t get straight to the point. Instead, he droned on with pompous advice.

Finally, he said, "Your scholarly achievements are undeniable. To be friendly with Shen San Lang and sweep all six honors—that’s not just luck but real ability."

Bing Wengu replied, "Do enlighten me, my lord."

"That much is indisputable. However, you must understand that while knowledge is useful, sometimes it can also be the least useful thing," the Right Chancellor said meaningfully.

Bing Wengu pretended not to catch the implication. "Do enlighten me."

"I’ve heard you’re friendly with Shen San Lang. I won’t speak of others—let’s use him as an example."

The Right Chancellor adopted the demeanor of a kindly elder lecturing a young upstart.

"Though you were personally appointed by His Majesty as the top scholar, and your official rank will undoubtedly be higher than San Lang’s at the start, making it seem like you seem better positioned, in reality, you may not surpass him. The why of it should be obvious—you can surely figure it out yourself. You lack backing, with no one to smooth your path, while San Lang is different. With the support of the Secretariat Drafter’s residence and the Marquis’s estate behind him, even the slightest achievement will earn him a promotion. But you..."

The Right Chancellor trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air—all the more thought-provoking.

After finishing his words, the Right Chancellor casually lifted his teacup and took a small sip.

He expected Bing Wengu to eagerly say something, perhaps pledge loyalty or seek to climb the ready-made ladder of his patronage.

Yet, the Right Chancellor waited and waited, even finishing his tea, but Bing Wengu remained completely silent.

Frowning, the Right Chancellor glanced at Bing Wengu and couldn’t help but clear his throat.

Only then did Bing Wengu leisurely remark, "Every man's destiny is his own; wealth and honor lie in heaven’s hands."

The Right Chancellor nearly choked on air, almost speechless.

"Don’t you wish for a promotion?"

"I do. But every man's path is different. I'm a farmer's son—that can't be undone. Since that’s the case, there’s no need to compare myself to others. I’ll just be myself."

The Right Chancellor chuckled lightly, the kind that mocked Bing Wengu's naivety.

"You, perhaps just starting out, don’t yet understand how the bureaucracy operates. It’s normal to have some naive and laughable ideas. Back when I was young and first became an official, I was just as naive, thinking that being a purely good official was enough. But later, I realized..."

He looked at Bing Wengu again, only to find that the man still showed no intention of responding.

Now here's a man with composure.

The Right Chancellor, with measured approval, said temptingly, "Actually, one’s background isn’t necessarily unchangeable."

At this point, Bing Wengu was no fool—quite the opposite, he was highly intelligent—and had already guessed the Right Chancellor’s intention.

Deliberately, Bing Wengu replied, "To betray my teachers and deny my roots—that’s something I cannot do."

The Right Chancellor had never met such a stubborn fool. He was initially annoyed, but then it occurred to him that Bing Wengu was already married. Perhaps the man simply hadn’t considered the possibility.

After all, some country bumpkin couldn’t possibly conceive that the lofty Right Chancellor’s household would be willing to offer him a marriage alliance.

The Right Chancellor said bluntly, "Let me lay it out clearly. One’s birth cannot be chosen, but it can be changed—by finding a good father-in-law."

Bing Wengu immediately responded, "Then that's unfortunate. I’m already married, and my father-in-law is also a farmer."

The Right Chancellor scoffed, looking down on Bing Wengu’s in-laws. "Nothing but a Shuang Er."

"I’ll be direct. I have an eldest daughter who is at odds with her husband and has returned home. If you divorce your current spouse and become engaged to her, the entire Right Chancellor’s household will support you in the future. I'll ensure you soar through the ranks."

The Right Chancellor didn’t expect Bing Wengu to refuse, so he said it like stating fact, even with a hint of arrogance.

Bing Wengu stood up from his chair, expressionless. "What does Your Excellency mean by this? Encouraging me to cast aside my wedded husband for personal gain?"

Bing Wengu couldn’t tolerate daring to slight Nan Jinping.

"If that’s the case, maybe I ought to ask His Majesty whether instructing an official to abandon his lawful spouse and marry a noblewoman is Lesson One for new officials."

"Bing Wengu!" the Right Chancellor snapped, his tone and eyes filled with disbelief. "Are you refusing me?"

"Exactly."

Bing Wengu coldly met the Right Chancellor’s gaze, unwaivering, his gaze turning icy.

Suddenly, a crash of porcelain came from the inner hall, followed by Zhao Shi’s startled gasp as Mrs. Mei rushed out.

Seeing Mrs. Mei, the Right Chancellor’s face darkened. "Must you shame me like this?"

"I won't." Young Lady Mei refused to listen, her neck proudly raised as she looked at Bing Wengu. "Bing Zhuangyuan, we meet again."

Bing Wengu wrinkled his nose in disgust, but Young Lady Mei appeared oblivious to the aversion in his eyes.

"Bing Zhuangyuan, perhaps you didn’t know that my father’s daughter is me. Now that you know it’s me, will you still refuse?" Young Lady Mei stared at him with unwavering confidence, as if she were Xi Shi, a legendary beauty, expecting everyone to adore her.

Bing Wengu replied coldly, "If you’re delusional, go see a physician. I must ask the Right Chancellor not to let his unhinged daughter roam freely—what if she harms someone?"

"How dare you speak to me like that!" Young Lady Mei gasped in disbelief.

Zhao Shi, who had followed her out, flew into a rage at the words. "You filthy peasant! How dare you insult my child? Guards, beat him!"

"I had no idea a woman could be so bold as to order the flogging of the Emperor’s personally appointed Zhuangyuan (top scholar), a future official," Bing Wengu sneered.

"Silence!" the Right Chancellor barked at Zhao Shi. "Stop this nonsense."

"Let me ask you," Young Lady Mei pressed on relentlessly, "In what way am I inferior to your country bumpkin of a husband? If it’s just a matter of gender, I—"

"Enough!" the Right Chancellor roared. "Servants, take these two shameless lunatics away!"

Furious, the Right Chancellor summoned attendants to drag them off. Young Lady Mei cried out desperately, "Father!"

Bing Wengu mocked, "My lord, this is truly underhanded—trying to pawn off your mad daughter on me. Only a household as powerful as the Right Chancellor’s would dare attempt such a thing."

The Right Chancellor narrowed his eyes. "I advise you not to be ungrateful."

"If refusing to marry a madwoman makes me ungrateful, then so be it," Bing Wengu retorted. Turning away, he added, "I’m done here."

Without hesitation, Bing Wengu strode out, followed by attendants. He had memorized the path earlier and wasn’t worried about being misled. Fortunately, the Right Chancellor still valued his reputation and didn’t interfere, allowing Bing Wengu to depart smoothly.

The meeting ended in discord. The Right Chancellor didn’t bother sending anyone to see Bing Wengu off, so he hailed a carriage himself and returned home.

Nan Jinping had been beside herself with worry. The moment Bing Wengu returned, she rushed to him. "Wen Gu, what did the Right Chancellor want? Was it about the incident at the Great Xiangguo Temple?"

Bing Wengu had no intention of hiding the truth from Nan Jinping. If he entered officialdom, such schemes would be inevitable—she needed to know how to handle them.

"No. He wanted to marry Young Lady Mei to me," Bing Wengu admitted plainly.

"What?" Nan Jinping staggered back in shock. Bing Wengu immediately stepped forward and grasped her hand. "I refused outright."

Nan Jinping’s elder brother had long harbored an ominous premonition. Ever since Bing Wengu’s stellar success in the exams, he had sensed that he might lose him as a brother-in-law.