Chapter 85: Disaster Relief Funds and Grain – Qian Shi Regrets

Bing Wengu retracted his psychic awareness and followed the officials into the Ministry of Revenue.

The warehouses of the Ministry of Revenue were piled high with disaster relief grain and silver. A minor clerk from the ministry stepped forward and handed a ledger to Bing Wengu, his tone not exactly polite. "This is the amount of disaster relief silver and grain allocated by His Majesty for Jixian County. Verify it so we can proceed with the disbursement."

Bing Wengu paid no mind to the clerk’s attitude and lowered his head to examine the figures for the relief funds and grain.

The disaster relief silver amounted to fifty thousand taels, while the grain totaled three thousand dan (approximately 180,000 kg).

Recently, Bing Wengu had reviewed Jixian County’s records. Before the drought, the county had approximately three thousand households and over ten thousand people.

After three years of severe drought, many had either fled or died, leaving fewer than five thousand by the end of last year.

The court’s disaster relief grain was allocated based on Jixian County’s population at the end of last year. Excluding seed grain, this amount should be just enough to feed the five thousand victims for a month.

This quantity of relief supplies was significant—at least, not for Bing Wengu, who had never intended to embezzle any of it and planned to account for every bit meticulously. If it were someone else, it might not even be enough to embezzle from.

Bing Wengu did not simply consider it done. Instead, he walked over to the chests containing the silver and personally verified the amount and quality of the silver ingots.

Though this was his first time serving as an official in ancient times and handling disaster relief supplies, the truth was, whether in ancient dynasties or future eras, the tricks of bureaucracy were all the same—mostly involving tampering with funds.

When the Ministry of Revenue officials saw Bing Wengu personally inspecting the relief silver, one of them let out a mocking laugh, as if ridiculing him for being overly petty.

"Once a peasant, always a peasant—so short-sighted. This is the Ministry of Revenue, not some country marketplace. Do you really think there could be errors in the silver? This has been counted and verified by numerous officials. Every one of these men has served in the ministry for decades—do you really think a minor seventh-rank official of peasant origin could do better?"

Bing Wengu’s expression remained expressionless, and inwardly, he felt the same—utterly unruffled.

It wasn’t that he was particularly magnanimous, but rather that he rarely felt genuine anger over most matters. Much of his outrage was mostly an act.

The only things that could truly anger him were incidents involving Nan Jinping. Everything else didn't matter to him.

Bing Wengu raised his head and calmly met the gaze of the official who had spoken. "May I ask, honored colleague, if I do not verify the amount now and discrepancies or oversights are discovered after leaving the Ministry of Revenue, will you take responsibility?"

"Every official in the dynasty knows the Ministry of Revenue’s rules—once the goods leave the ministry, any issues become the recipient’s responsibility. That's not my problem!"

"If you refuse to take responsibility yet also forbid me from inspecting, then who *will* be held accountable if problems arise?"

"I never said you couldn’t inspect—only that you’re being short-sighted."

"If you, honored colleague, are willing to take responsibility, then I shall cease being short-sighted."

"Your short-sightedness has nothing to do with me. Hurry up and inspect. The Ministry of Revenue is busy—we don’t have time to waste on you."

Bing Wengu began his inspection of the relief silver at a leisurely pace. In truth, with his psychic awareness, he could have verified everything without even opening the chests. But he chose instead to check each item manually. After all, he wasn’t in a hurry—there was no need to expend psychic energy.

As he dug out one ingot and set it aside, the same mocking official spoke up again. "Well, well, has our Lord County Magistrate found something amiss?"

Bing Wengu remained silent and continued his methodical inspection. He worked steadily, refusing to speed up no matter how much the ministry officials urged him.

By the time he finished verifying the silver, he had divided it into three categories.

Yet he offered no explanation for why he had done so, instead moving on to inspect the disaster relief grain at the same deliberate pace.

The matter of grain was much trickier. The amount of sand and gravel mixed in directly affected its weight. Then there was the quality—this grain wasn’t just for feeding victims but also included seed grain for planting.

If the seed grain had been stored improperly—if it was moldy or shriveled—it would be non-viable seed, incapable of sprouting or yielding a poor germination rate.

Some of the grain was in such poor condition that Bing Wengu could tell at a glance it was absolutely unfit for seed. Another portion appeared fine on the surface, but upon probing with his sharp intuition, he found the vitality within the grain to be noticeably low—such grain was equally unsuitable for planting.

Bing Wengu likewise divided the grain into three portions, pointing to the smallest pile and stating, "This is usable. The remaining two-thirds—this portion is unfit for seed and won't sprout if planted, while the other is adulterated with too much gravel and lacks proper weight."

The official who had mocked Bing Wengu earlier sneered, "This is the grain the Ministry of Revenue provides. Take it or leave it—that's all we have."

"The disaster relief grain was specially approved by His Majesty. I’ve already informed Him that part of it would be used as seed, and He granted permission," Bing Wengu countered. "If this colleague insists the Ministry can only supply such seed grain, I’ll return to the palace and ask His Majesty about this."

"Do you think the imperial palace is your home? How dare a mere seventh-rank official like you presume to see His Majesty at will? Look at yourself in the mirror—are you even worthy? Truly, the ignorance of a peasant-born upstart. Don’t think a top scholar title makes you special."

Bing Wengu barely glanced up. "While I may not see His Majesty whenever I wish, the Grievance Drum is something I can strike at will. If a county magistrate beats the drum over discrepancies in disaster relief funds, I’d be the first. Quite the spectacle, I'd wager."

"You—" The Ministry of Revenue official glared. "How can you possibly judge the grain’s suitability as seed just by looking?"

"Your memory seems lacking, colleague. Didn’t you just call me a dirt-footed farmer? What do farmers excel at? Farming, I suppose. Crops are our livelihood. I’ve handled grain since before I could walk. When it comes to what makes good seed, no one in this court surpasses me."

As for the fact that the original host of this body had never set foot in a field—Bing Wengu deliberately left that out. No one here knew the original’s background anyway; they only knew Bing Wengu was a farm boy, so of course he knew grain.

The official scoffed. "Indeed, among all the court’s officials, none can match your farming skills!"

"And as for the silver—this portion is fine, but these are of inferior quality, and these are pure fake."

"County Magistrate Bing, how dare you slander us! How could the Ministry of Revenue possibly have counterfeit silver?"

"How should I know? You’re the one from the Ministry—not me."

"I know nothing of this. If you persist in these wild accusations, don’t blame me for showing you what's what."

Bing Wengu regarded the man and nodded. "Very well, let’s seal it then."

The Ministry official thought he’d intimidated Bing Wengu, only to hear him continue, "Once everything’s sealed, deliver it directly to the capital. I’ll beat the Grievance Drum and let His Majesty decide."

The official’s face turned ashen as he stared coldly at Bing Wengu.

"Why the delay? Isn’t the Ministry too busy to waste time with me? Hurry up and seal it."

The official’s gaze turned venomous. "County Magistrate Bing, I advise you to take this lying down. You're not that stupid—you know exactly who you’ve offended—someone way above your pay grade. Unless you want your entire family to end up dead by the roadside, swallow this loss quietly. Learn to know your place. Otherwise—"

"Oh?" Bing Wengu’s expression remained cool as stone. "I’d very much like to know who this ‘someone’ is."

"Don’t play dumb, Magistrate. You know perfectly well."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then go ahead and beat that drum. But I guarantee you’ll strike it with your life, not live to see His Majesty."

At that moment, someone rushed in and whispered urgently to the official. The Vice Minister of Revenue’s face paled. "How is this possible? How could the Right Chancellor—"

Cutting himself off, he shot Bing Wengu a final glare. "You’ve gotten lucky today. Someone, replace these items!" With that, he stormed out.

Other Ministry staff quickly stepped forward. "Our mistake, Magistrate. This silver wasn’t meant for you—it was counterfeit seized earlier. As for the grain, this batch was meant for drying in the sun. We made a mistake."

They worked swiftly, removing all the problematic materials.

Bing Wengu had anticipated this. Mei Chengwen wouldn’t stop at merely sticking him in some backwater county. A man who rose to Right Chancellor understood the principle of finishing off enemies completely. Messing with the relief goods was a given.

Bing Wengu was now merely a seventh-rank minor official, making it far from easy for him to meet the Emperor. Moreover, with the Right Chancellor throwing obstacles in his way, Bing Wengu stood no chance of getting an audience—this was precisely why the Vice Minister of Revenue dared to bully him so openly.

Unfortunately, Bing Wengu was never one to passively endure attacks.

Before Mei Chengwen could send his so-called "gift," Bing Wengu had already sent him a lavish one.

And now, with this extravagant gesture delivered, Mei Chengwen could no longer trouble him.

Over at the Ministry of Revenue, the preparations had to be redone, and it would take some time. Bing Wengu returned to the Bing family, and when he went back the next day to inspect the goods, everything was in order.

The silver and grain were officially sealed, and the personnel in charge of receiving them had shifted from the Ministry of Revenue’s staff to Jiang Jinghuai’s men.

Three days later was the official departure date. But long before that, when the Emperor first decreed that Bing Wengu would serve as the County Magistrate of Ji County, he had already sent Bing Silang and Nan Jia Xiao Geer back to Shanghe Village with ten thousand taels in silver notes.

This sum had been secured as a "donation" from Shen Qinghe and Jiang Jinghuai—part of the proceeds from the kaleidoscope venture.

As for the remaining share, Bing Wengu instructed Jiang Jinghuai and Shen Qinghe to purchase as much grain as possible.

For Ji County, silver wasn’t the most pressing need at the moment—grain was. Grain could be used in place of money to hire laborers.

Meanwhile, Shanghe Village had only just received the news of Bing Wengu’s top honors in the imperial examinations. There was no way around it—Bianjing was simply too far from Shanghe Village, and even official news traveled slowly. Since this wasn’t military intelligence, no one would send an express messenger for it.

A group of yamen officers arrived with a noisy celebration, announcing, "Congratulations, congratulations! Bing Wengu has achieved first place in the highest imperial examination, and His Majesty has granted him the Jinshi degree."

No sooner had this announcement ended than another group of messengers arrived, declaring, "We’ve just received further news—Bing Zhuangyuan has been appointed by His Majesty as the seventh-rank County Magistrate of Ji County and will soon leave to take up his post."

Upon hearing this, Miao Shi shook with excitement, sinking into Nan Jia Xiao Geer’s father’s arms. As for Liang Shi, she passed out right then.

"Mother, Mother—" The entire Bing family rushed to Liang Shi’s side, with Bing’s father shouting, "Get a doctor!"

Bing Erlang frantically ran to a neighbor’s house to borrow an ox cart and hurried off to summon help.

Seeing that the Bing family was too preoccupied with Liang Shi to attend to the messengers, Miao Shi quickly stepped forward to host them. "Gentlemen, you’ve worked hard. Please come inside and rest with some wine."

"And you are…?"

"I am Bing Wengu—no, County Magistrate Bing’s mother-in-law."

Miao Shi and Nan Jia Xiao Geer’s father escorted the yamen officers inside while discreetly signaling for him to fetch some silver from home to properly see the officials off.

Gu Shi immediately caught the wordless communication between her in-laws. She had no objections to covering the expense for the Bing family—in fact, she eagerly volunteered, "Mother, let Father stay here with you. I’ll go home and be right back."

With that, Gu Shi subtly gestured to Miao Shi about the silver, confident that her meaning was understood. Nodding, Gu Shi happily hurried home.

Bing Wengu—her son-in-law—had actually become the top scholar and a county magistrate! Ha! The mere thought made Gu Shi want to laugh uproariously.

A little silver was nothing—she wouldn’t blink at even if it were more.

While Miao Shi handled the messengers and saw them off, Liang Shi slowly regained consciousness. She had simply been overcome with joy—nothing serious.

As for the villagers, their reactions to Bing Wengu’s success varied.

Some envious ones remarked, "The Bing family has completely changed their fate. They’re no longer like us—they’re officials now. We can’t afford to offend them."

Those eager to curry favor said, "If only I’d known Bing Wengu would rise so high—I would’ve married my daughter to him back then. If my girl had been willing, he’d have been overjoyed! He might’ve even favored her more than Nan Jia Xiao Geer."

"Nan Jia Xiao Geer’s childbearing mark is faint—he can’t bear children. Why not take my daughter as a concubine? Now that Bing Wengu’s a magistrate, he’ll surely take one sooner or later. Better to choose someone from the village—we all know each other, and when Nan Jia Xiao Geer grows old, the child won’t mistreat him."

Those without eligible daughters scoffed, "Bing Wengu’s a magistrate now—he’ll have noble families competing to offer their daughters. Why would he choose an uneducated village girl?"

Some villagers retorted, "But didn't he still marry Nan Jinping as his primary husband? That Nan Jinping is also from the village, and a Shuang Er, no less!"

"That was then, this is now. Back then, Nan Jinping seemed more than a match for Bing Dalang. But now he's a county magistrate—how many well-born ladies would be willing to marry him? Village girls can’t reach that high anymore."

"No wonder they say Nan Jinping is the reincarnation of good fortune. You’ve got to stick by heroes when they’re down—just like emperors throughout history, whose first wives were wed when they were dirt-poor, only for them to later fill their harems with high-born ladies."

"Nan Jinping really hit the jackpot."

The villagers sighed again. At some point, they had begun to accept that Nan Jinping was indeed the reincarnation of good fortune, no longer dismissing him as bad luck or a curse.

Suddenly, one villager spoke up, "I’ve heard something recently about Shuang Er. It seems they aren’t calamities reborn, but children blessed by celestial gods to be born as Shuang Er. I’ve even heard that even the King of Hell is a Shuang Er."

"Impossible! For decades, we’ve been told Shuang Er are cursed by their ancestors’ sins."

"But look at the Bing family," the villager gestured toward their home. "They have two Shuang Er—didn’t Aunt Bing bring back another one? And yet, ever since Bing Wengu married Nan Jinping and Aunt Bing returned with that Shuang Er, the Bing family hasn’t suffered any misfortune. On the contrary, Bing Dalang aced the imperial exams, became the zhuangyuan (top scholar), and is now a county magistrate."

"In our village, it’s been a hundred years since we last had a magistrate. Other families may not have Shuang Er, but they don’t have magistrates either."

"If the so-called 'curse' of having a Shuang Er means your descendants become magistrates, I’d take a dozen!"

The villagers fell silent.

"Could it be that we were wrong all along? Treat them well, and your fortunes rise; mistreat them, and your days grow poorer."

The villagers exchanged glances. Someone suggested, "Forget it. If my family ever has a Shuang Er, I’ll just raise them like any other child—no discrimination. It’s just another mouth to feed and a little less labor—young children can’t do much anyway. If they really bring prosperity, maybe their siblings will skyrocket to success, or they’ll marry into wealth. Wouldn’t that be a meteoric rise?"

No matter how self-serving the villagers’ thoughts were, Nan Jinping’s influence had undeniably improved the status of young Shuang Er in the village. From being drowned at birth, they were now being raised properly, finally securing a chance at survival.

The Qians were devastated. They had been in-laws with the Bings—Bing Wengu’s rise to magistrate should have lifted them to greatness. But now, Bing Sanlang had fallen out with Bing Wengu, been cast out, and even had his father disowned.

Qian Shi’s mother slapped her in fury, "What were you thinking, ruining a perfectly good life? Why did you have to make waves? If Aunt Bing wanted to return home, let her! It wasn’t your burden—Bing Dalang provided for her. Why couldn’t you tolerate her? Now look—the golden ticket we had has slipped away!"

She’d conveniently forgotten that she had supported Qian Shi’s defiance earlier.

Qian Shi’s father said sternly, "San Lang, you’re Liang Shi’s flesh and blood. Even if there was a rift, blood runs thicker than water. She carried you in her womb—do you really think she’d abandon you forever? Grovel if you have to—but you must mend things with your family. Ideally, they’ll take you back."

Qian Shi still refused to believe it, muttering, "How could this happen? How could that worthless Bing Dalang become the top scholar and an official? There must be some mistake."

Bing Sanlang’s emotions were a tangled mess—regret was certainly among them.

He was furious. He was born a Bing, Bing Wengu’s own brother, destined to share in his glory. Yet because of Qian Shi, he’d become an outsider.

Snapping, he shouted, "Enough with your denial! The facts are clear—our brother is the top scholar and a magistrate now. Your envy won’t undo it."

"You blame me, don’t you?" Qian Shi shot back.

"Shouldn’t I? Everyone else accepted Aunt Bing’s return—even Second Sister-in-law didn’t object. But you had to kick up a fuss! It wasn’t your responsibility to support her—why couldn’t you tolerate her?"

Qian Shi opened her mouth to argue, but her mother slapped her back hard, silencing her.

Dragging Qian Shi outside, her mother hissed, "Are you stupid? Now’s not the time to fight with Bing Sanlang!"

"Mother, he’s blaming me!"

"And shouldn’t he? Even I blame you—you’re too stubborn!" Her mother fumed. "Right now, you need to keep Bing Sanlang on your side. Remember, you were the one who opposed Aunt Bing’s return, and he even fought the Sun family for you. If you keep this up, and he dumps you, do you think the Bings won’t take him back? What will you do then?"

Her father added coldly, "The Bings are officials now. If they dump you, do you think any villager would dare take you in?"

"So what you need to do now is to win over Bing Sanlang. No matter what, Bing Sanlang was born from Mother Liang's womb. If things get serious, Mother Liang won't just stand by and watch. What you two must do now is to win over Mother Liang. As long as you can kneel and beg to make the Bing family change their minds, it will be worth it."

Qian Shi hardened her heart and gritted her teeth. "Fine! At worst, I'll go with Sanlang and kneel before the Bing family. If they don’t forgive us, we won’t get up."

Qian Shi, shameless as ever, dragged Bing Sanlang to kneel outside the gates of the Bing residence. No matter how much the villagers gawked and muttered, Qian Shi and Bing Sanlang refused to rise.

During this time, Bing Erlang came out several times, but no matter what he said, Bing Sanlang refused to leave with Qian Shi.

Qian Shi and Bing Sanlang were dead set—they wouldn’t budge unless the Bings forgave them, kneeling outside the gates for a full day and night.

Bing Erlang had no choice—he went to Mother Liang and said, "Mother, it's been a whole day and night. Qian Shi and Sanlang haven’t eaten a bite. If they keep kneeling like this, I’m afraid they won’t be able to hold on."

Mother Liang was just about to answer when the sound of galloping hooves echoed in the distance. She jumped up instantly. "Is Da Lang back for the ancestral ceremony?"

Since Bing Silang and Elder Nan had been called back to the village, Bing Wengu hadn’t written home, so Mother Liang was unaware that he couldn’t return for the ancestral worship.

She shoved Bing Erlang aside and bolted outside, barefoot.