Chapter 81: Love Across a Thousand Miles – Do You Have Any Regrets?

Nan Jinping almost immediately thought of Bing Wengu’s future. "Will this affect your career?"

"Don’t worry, love. They’re just petty troublemakers—what harm could they do?" Bing Wengu replied dismissively.

Nan Jinping searched Bing Wengu’s expression and saw that he truly didn’t care at all. Suddenly, those strange, recurring dreams she often had flooded her mind. In those dreams, Bing Wengu was always so composed and strategic, as if nothing in the world could trouble him. For some reason, her restless heart suddenly calmed.

"Wen Gu, it’s already this late—you must not have eaten at the Right Chancellor’s residence. I’ll send Ping’an to get your favorite dishes. After eating, rest well. In three days, you’ll have to enter the palace to meet the Emperor," Nan Jinping said.

Bing Wengu smiled. "Whatever you say, love."

Nan Jinping instructed Ping’an to buy Bing Wengu’s favorite food. On the way back, she ran into her older brother, who looked at her with a complicated expression.

"What’s wrong, brother?" Nan Jinping noticed his concern and asked proactively. "Are you worried about Wen Gu? There’s no need to be overly concerned. If Wen Gu says he has a solution, then he truly does."

Nan Jinping’s older brother shook his head, then nodded. "I am indeed worried about my brother-in-law’s career, but more than that, I’m worried about you."

"Me?" Nan Jinping pointed at herself, then realized what he meant.

Her older brother sighed. "Your husband’s career is important, of course, but Jin Geer, to me, you matter more."

People’s hearts are always biased, and Nan Jinping’s older brother was no exception. He ached for his younger brother, who had suffered so much since childhood because of his dual-gender identity. Both he and the entire Nan family had witnessed it all.

"Back when your husband came to propose, Father and I were utterly unwilling.

We feared a scholar would be useless—that after marriage, he’d neglect everything, leaving you to shoulder all the burdens. You’d have to earn a living, run the household—it’d be too much."

As he spoke of those times, the anxiety and worry felt as fresh as yesterday.

"But back then, the village gossip was ruining your reputation. Father and I had no choice but to swallow our pride and agree.

Yet who would’ve thought your husband would treat you so well? You can’t imagine how happy Father and I were. At the time, we thought that even if he never passed the exams and studied his whole life, as long as he remained devoted to you, we’d accept it."

Back then, the entire village envied Nan Jinping. Many regretted not offering their own sons or daughters to Bing Wengu once they realized what a good husband he was.

"Later, when your husband became a scholar, I was satisfied. I thought being a scholar’s husband was enough. But who knew he’d excel—acing every exam, first the minor triple honors, then the major, and now the top scholar? In three days, the Emperor will likely grant him an official position.

Back then, we never imagined your husband would become such a figure. Otherwise..."

Otherwise, they might not have agreed to the marriage. Not for any other reason, but because they feared their son wouldn’t be a worthy match. How could such a man remain devoted to a dual-gender spouse with faint fertility marks, unable to bear children? If beauty faded and love waned, and Bing Wengu took a favored concubine who bore him an heir, where would that leave their Jin Geer?

But now, the marriage was already done. Now that they saw their son had married such an extraordinary man, what could they do but hope Bing Wengu wasn’t the ungrateful type?

"Jin Geer, Father and I never wanted to use you to climb the social ladder. We only wanted you to find lifelong happiness with one person." Nan Jinping’s older brother looked at him with heartache. "Your early years at home were too hard. I just want your future to be happy—no need for wealth or status, just joy!"

Nan Jinping’s older brother wasn’t quiet, but he was naturally reserved. Since childhood, he had rarely spoken such heartfelt—even what he considered embarrassingly sentimental—words to Nan Jinping.

Nan Jinping knew this meant his older brother was deeply worried and could no longer hold back. His heart swelled with warmth and gratitude. Even now, his brother’s first concern was still him—not blinded by wealth or status. This was family.

Nan Jinping, ever emotional, was deeply moved by his older brother’s pure familial love. His eyes reddened.

"Brother." Nan Jinping stepped forward and gave him a tight hug. "Thank you. But you don’t need to worry about me. I trust Wen Gu—he’d never trade loyalty for gain."

"But wealth and status have always tempted men. And you’re a dual-gender... Back in the village, before your husband even became a scholar—just after passing the county exam—people already wanted to replace you. Now that he’s the top scholar, barely stepping into officialdom, the Right Chancellor has already tried to recruit him as a son-in-law. What if he climbs higher..." Nan Jinping’s older brother pressed anxiously.

"He won’t. I trust Wen Gu." Nan Jinping’s tone was firm. "Brother, I’m not blaming you—just stating facts. You, Father, Mother—when my dual-gender comes up, you all assume I’m lesser. But have you noticed? Wen Gu never does. He’s never looked down on me for it. Instead, he encourages me to do things you’d consider rebellious. Yet he not only supports me but believes the fault lies not in my identity, but in the world. The world should change, not me."

"I..." Nan Jinping’s older brother opened and closed his mouth, speechless. Suddenly, he realized it was true.

He and his parents truly loved Nan Jinping, yet they couldn't help but feel that being a shuang'er seemed to make one inferior. They often voiced sentiments like, "If only you were a boy or a girl," or "how did our Jin Geer become a shuang'er?" But upon reflection, Bing Wengu had never said similar things.

In Bing Wengu's words and heart, it seemed shuang'er were no different from other genders. If others thought there was, it was their fault. If society treated shuang'er differently, it was society's mistake. In short, the shuang'er gender was not at fault, and Nan Jinping was certainly not to blame.

Bing Wengu didn't just preach these beliefs—he lived by them. He taught Jinping to read, to study, and to understand countless principles.

He had raised the Nan family's Jin Geer so well that Jin Geer could now write books, earning amounts of silver the Nan family had never dared to dream of before.

Thinking of this, for some reason, Elder Brother Nan's tears began to flow silently.

"Jin Geer, I'm sorry. On behalf of our parents, I apologize. We—we never looked down on you for being a shuang'er. Never. We just... we just felt bad for you." Comparing Bing Wengu's attitude toward Jinping's gender to their own, Elder Brother Nan suddenly felt they had been very inadequate, even terrible.

"Brother, don't apologize. I know. I understand how much you and the family care for me." Jinping quickly reassured him. "I don't blame you, and let alone our parents. Compared to the village children, you've treated me exceptionally well."

"I didn't say this to make you feel guilty. I just wanted you to understand Bing Wengu's heart. Please believe in him, as you believe in me." Jinping said firmly, "We will walk hand in hand for a hundred years."

"Alright, I believe you." Elder Brother Nan wiped his tears. "Our Nan family's little shuang'er is an incarnation of a lucky star—how could you not find happiness? Being a shuang'er was never a curse from the gods, but their blessing, destined for a lifetime of happiness."

Jinping smiled, knowing his brother was quoting from his own storybook, *Dong Geer's Rebirth*, where he had written that shuang'er were a gender blessed by the gods.

"I will be happy."

Bing Wengu sat at his desk, a spread-out sheet of xuan paper before him. At its center was written "Right Chancellor," surrounded by arrows mapping out relationships—names like Mrs. Mei, Zhao Shi, Imperial Consort Shu, and the Emperor.

As Bing Wengu frowned in thought, Nan Jinping came in. Approaching the desk, Nan Jinping showed no surprise at the diagram.

"Wen Gu, are you planning to confront the Right Chancellor?" Nan Jinping sat beside him, their legs touching.

Instead of answering immediately, Bing Wengu studied Nan Jinping's obviously red-rimmed eyes. "You've been crying?"

Nan Jinping touched his eyes, recalling the earlier conversation with his brother. "Nothing important."

But Bing Wengu wouldn't let it go. "Tell me."

Knowing evasion was futile, Nan Jinping confessed, "My brother spoke with me at length. He's worried that when you become successful, you might... abandon me."

"I won't." Bing Wengu's brow furrowed.

"Of course I believe you." Nan Jinping clasped Bing Wengu's hands. "Wen Gu, I have neither eye nor heart ailments—how could I not know your devotion? In this world, not even my parents treat me as well as you do."

The air between them grew filled with tenderness.

Under Bing Wengu's intense gaze, Nan Jinping's ears flushed red. Clearing his throat lightly, he tapped the paper. "Wen Gu, have you thought of a strategy?"

Nan Jinping had meant to divert the topic, but Bing Wengu actually had ideas. "Some ideas."

"Ah?"

Bing Wengu found Nan Jinping's wide-eyed surprise utterly endearing. "Husband, the Right Chancellor's household may seem impregnable, but it's not united."

Patiently, Bing Wengu explained his tactics. "First, there's the Right Chancellor's wife, Zhao Shi. I don't know her past temperament, but from our brief encounter, she's either incredibly foolish or utterly fearless. Likely the latter—relying on her daughter, Imperial Consort Shu, who enjoys the Emperor's favor, she's grown arrogant. Such people have the greatest vulnerabilities and are easiest to exploit."

He then pointed to Mrs. Mei's name. "Mrs. Mei is willful and refuses to suffer any slight. When her husband's concubine became pregnant before her, she beat the woman until she miscarried—without even bothering to hide it. That speaks volumes about her usual tyranny. With such a temperament, she must have multiple deaths to her name—another perfect weak point."

Bing Wengu kept his explanation simple for Nan Jinping's sake. "Our first step is to find leverage against these two, who have the most glaring flaws."

Nan Jinping's eyes brightened with each word. "Wen Gu, hearing your analysis, toppling the Right Chancellor's household doesn't seem so difficult after all."

But this time, Bing Wengu shook his head. "Husband, you oversimplify it. By the Emperor's grace, as long as the Right Chancellor retains his favor, even if Zhao Shi and Mrs. Mei act outrageously, they'll only face minor reprimands. It wouldn't shake his foundation—at most, a meaningless deduction of salary."

Nan Jinping hesitated, "Then what should we do?"

"It's not that hard. As long as we uncover misdeeds the Emperor won’t overlook in the Right Chancellor’s household, it will suffice." Bing Wengu stared at the name of the Right Chancellor, his gaze icy. "To rise to the position of Right Chancellor, how could there not be one or two things the Emperor cannot tolerate? Isn’t that so, dear?"

Nan Jinping’s mind immediately recalled the historical lessons Bing Wengu had once shared with him. "You mean secretly colluding with a prince?"

Bing Wengu smiled. "You’re so sharp, my love. Consort Shu currently has a son and a daughter. The princess doesn’t matter, but the fourth prince has already grown to an age where he can contend for the throne. The Emperor dotes on Consort Shu—how could she resist wanting the throne? And how could the Right Chancellor not desire it as well?"

Nan Jinping nodded. "If we can dig up proof, we can easily undermine Consort Shu. But will such evidence be easy to obtain?"

"Of course not. But sometimes, evidence doesn’t necessarily have to be real." Bing Wengu said meaningfully.

"Regardless, we must first investigate the Right Chancellor’s household." Bing Wengu paid a few beggars to stake out the Right Chancellor’s estate day and night. It wasn’t that he expected them to uncover anything substantial, but rather to understand the outward ties of the household before delving deeper into its hidden networks.

Next, they visited the former neighbors and acquaintances of Mrs. Mei’s previous husband, hoping to unearth anything incriminating.

However, after making inquiries, all they learned were the most superficial details—things the Right Chancellor’s household was willing to let outsiders know.

Three days later, Bing Wengu, along with Shen Qinghe and other scholars who had passed the palace examination, put on their court attire and entered the imperial palace to meet the Emperor.

Emperor Zhan Yu was a middle-aged man in his forties, handsome and radiating authority.

Facing these new talents entering the court, Zhan Yu adopted a gentle demeanor, first offering words of encouragement before announcing their official appointments.

Then, the imperial decree rocked the court.

Truthfully, it barely affected the others—only Bing Wengu was impacted.

Since the founding of the Great Yong dynasty, it had been a time-honored tradition that the top three scholars of the palace examination would serve in the capital.

But this time, Bing Wengu, the top-ranked scholar, was unexpectedly banished to a remote, impoverished county as its magistrate—a clear demotion from the capital.

Had all three top scholars been sent away, it might not have raised eyebrows. But the second and third-ranked scholars remained in the capital, appointed to positions as per tradition.

Shen Qinghe, the second-ranked scholar, was directly assigned the position originally meant for Bing Wengu—Assistant Director of the Imperial Academy, a seventh-rank post.

Bing Wengu’s appointment as a county magistrate, though also seventh-rank, was incomparable to a seventh-rank position in the capital.

This decree was a glaring message—it practically announced to the world that the top scholar of this year’s examination had lost the Emperor’s goodwill.

When Shen Qinghe heard the decree, his shock was unmistakable. He immediately turned to look at Bing Wengu, his movement so abrupt he almost cricked his neck.

Though the court officials dared not openly react, every pair of eyes was locked onto Bing Wengu.

Even without turning around, Bing Wengu could feel the weight of their scrutinizing gazes.

Ironically, the calmest person in the entire court was Bing Wengu himself.

He kept his face blank as he respectfully kowtowed in gratitude, as if completely unaware of the implications behind the Emperor’s decree.

Once the appointments were announced, the Emperor smiled and waved his hand. "That’s all. I won’t keep you longer. The people outside the palace gates are waiting to see the new top scholar’s grand procession. You may go now."

"Yes," Bing Wengu replied, bowing along with the others before following the palace attendants out to prepare for the victory procession.

Regardless of whether the Emperor favored him, Bing Wengu was still the top scholar, and thus he rode at the procession’s helm.

Tall, handsome, and dignified, he stood out even among the other scholars. Clad in his scarlet court regalia and leading the parade, he was downright radiant.

All eyes were immediately drawn to him during the parade, leaving the Tanhua—traditionally the most handsome among the top three—completely eclipsed.

The fake flowers thrown from both sides of the street almost all landed on Bing Wengu alone. The fake flowers were light as they were, but the sheer number of them created a shower that stung when hitting his head and face.

Fortunately, Bing Wengu was skilled in martial arts. Dodging and blocking with his fan on horseback, he managed to avoid being struck in the face.

But Shen Qinghe and the Tanhu (Third-Place Scholar) behind him weren’t so lucky. Though the floral shower wasn’t aimed at them, they still ended up getting hit quite a bit.

From the front, Bing Wengu could even hear Shen Qinghe’s hushed yelps of pain.

Nan Jinping, Bing Silang, and Nan Dage stood by the window of a tavern, where they had a clear view of Bing Wengu parading on horseback—truly a radiant young man, bright as the sun after a storm.

"Big brother is truly the center of attention!" Bing Silang couldn’t help but exclaim.

Nan Dage glanced at his Xiao Geer, then at the young women on the street gleefully tossing flowers at Bing Wengu, and remarked, "I never realized before just how handsome and charming our brother-in-law is."

Nan Jinping’s chest tightened with something bitter—was it envy? She turned and walked to a small table, pulling out a single flower from the vase the tavern had placed there.

Looking down, she realized it was a double-blossomed flower. Her lips curled into a sudden smile.

Holding the double-blossomed flower, Nan Jinping returned to the window just as the procession passed beneath them.

"Bing Wengu!" she suddenly shouted at the top of her lungs before hurling the double-blossomed flower downward.

The street was a cacophony of noise, and even with her full effort, her voice was instantly drowned out by the cheers.

As for the double-blossomed flower, being too light, it merely fluttered uselessly down despite Nan Jinping’s forceful throw, landing nowhere near Bing Wengu.

Seeing this, Nan Jinping’s face fell.

Nan Dage shook his head with a sigh but still tried to console her. "There are too many people here, and the noise is overwhelming—it’s only natural he didn’t hear you. As for the flower… well, some things just aren’t meant to reach their mark."

However, before Brother Nan could finish his comforting words, Bing Wengu suddenly turned his head sharply amidst the crowd. His calm, piercing gaze locked precisely onto Nan Jinping's location—Bing Wengu saw Nan Jinping, and Nan Jinping saw Bing Wengu.

In an instant, Nan Jinping’s disappointment melted away. He grinned at Bing Wengu, and at that very moment, Bing Wengu returned an equally warm smile.

Bing Wengu's smile was like a lotus blooming on a frosty mountain peak, breathtaking against the icy heights.

That single smile from the zhuangyuan (top imperial exam scorer) stunned nearly everyone lining the streets, and for a moment, the cheers died down.

Yet Bing Wengu's gaze soon caught sight of the gently descending twin-flower—the love token from his husband.

Just then, someone hurled a fake twin-flower straight toward Bing Wengu's face.

Without even turning his head, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, Bing Wengu flicked open his paper fan and deflected the fake flower. At the same time, he pressed his feet firmly into the stirrups, leaping up lightly on horseback before propelling himself forward.

His toes brushed lightly over the shoulders of the onlookers, as if the crowd had formed a human wall just for him. With each graceful step, Bing Wengu swiftly reached the building where Nan Jinping stood.

At that moment, the twin-flower Nan Jinping had dropped was just descending. Bing Wengu stretched out his hand and caught it effortlessly.

After securing the flower, he didn’t linger. With another light step, he glided back over the human wall, landing smoothly on his horse in a fluid spin. His crimson robes billowed like a blossoming flower.

Someone in the stunned crowd snapped back to reality first, letting out a piercing scream, followed by another, and another—until the air was filled with a chorus of screams. At the heart of this storm of excitement, Bing Wengu turned his head to gaze at Nan Jinping. Their eyes met, and with a playful lift of his brow, Bing Wengu placed the twin-flower between his lips, his eyes crinkling with warmth.

"Ahhh!!!" The screams from the onlookers grew even more shrill.

Nan Jinping flushed crimson, but the corners of his lips curled upward uncontrollably.

"You don’t have to cross mountains and rivers, because the one who loves you will traverse crowds to come to you." Nan Jinping suddenly recalled these words and murmured them softly.

Bing Silang covered half his face, his teeth on edge from the sweetness.

Brother Nan was speechless and couldn't even look, his Jin Geer acting as if bewitched by a seductive fox spirit (a mythical temptress).

Though one had to admit, this fox spirit Bing Wengu was as enchanting as the legendary fox spirit Daji.

Meanwhile, Shen Qinghe, who had witnessed the entire scene from behind Bing Wengu, was going crazy.

"Bing Yuanting, stop showing off!" Shen Qinghe muttered under his breath. "Don’t forget about the Right Chancellor's camp. Keep a low profile."

Just then, the procession turned a corner, and Bing Wengu could no longer see Nan Jinping. He turned back, removing the flower from his mouth.

In an equally quiet voice, he replied, "That’s exactly why I did it. Everyone must know—this dynasty’s new zhuangyuan already has a spouse. Stay away!"

Shen Qinghe was speechless.

Meanwhile, the girls and guys lining the streets, having witnessed the spectacle, were now discussing it just as Bing Wengu had hoped.

"Whose flower did the top graduate catch just now? Did he have his eye on someone?"

"Oh, surely not. With so many people, even the sharpest eyes couldn’t have picked anyone out. He was probably just showing off. But what a show it was—that leap to catch the flower was incredible!"

"The top graduate definitely knew who threw it. Didn’t you notice? Right before his big move, someone tossed a fake paired blossom at him, nearly hitting his hand, but he brushed it off without even looking. Yet for someone else’s paired blossom, he leaped through the crowd just to catch it."

"Wow, that’s so romantic when you put it that way. I wonder which lucky girl caught the eye of such a talented and handsome scholar."

"I just heard—the one who threw the flower was none other than the top graduate’s husband, Nan Jinping."

"The top graduate is already married at such a young age? His husband must be drop-dead gorgeous to inspire such devotion."

"So envious, and yet so jealous!"

"That leap to catch the flower should be called 'Leaping for Love'—it’s far more fitting."

"Leaping for Love—how romantic! Where does one even find someone so talented, handsome, devoted, and romantic? And how could one ever win their heart?"

After the procession came the palace banquet, as was tradition.

At the banquet, the Emperor, the Crown Prince, and all court officials were present—including the Right Chancellor.

When the Right Chancellor saw Bing Wengu, his smile never reached his eyes.

"Congratulations, Zhuangyuan Bing, on your appointment as county magistrate outside the capital," the Right Chancellor said, his voice full of cold amusement. "Though I wonder if this Magistrate Bing even wishes to hear such congratulations. After all, Ji County is no paradise—three years of drought, no harvests, and a suffering populace. Who knows if our new top graduate will last long enough for us to meet again?"

Leaning in close, the Right Chancellor whispered in Bing Wengu’s ear, his voice barely audible, "Do you regret it now?"