◎Though searching a lifetime through jade terraces and jade trees, one like you is rare in this mortal world◎

To humiliate someone, one must list their crimes to fill their body with the four characters “evil deeds beyond measure.”

In Wang Kui’s eyes, Yu Qingwu’s crimes could not be fully recorded even if all the bamboo were used. He said with heartfelt pain: “In Yuanshou’s 34th year, you were seven years old. Your parents died, and you met Vice Minister Wu. Only after that could you read and write, transforming from an inauspicious person who brought death to father and mother into a romantic figure renowned throughout Shu Prefecture—on this point, Yu Qingwu, do you acknowledge it?”

Yu Qingwu had been standing in a daze. Hearing the interrogation, he slowly moved his gaze from Shanjun and Nanny Qian. Just as he was about to speak, he saw them begin walking over from the entrance. His heart paused, and Wang Kui seized the chance to speak again.

“In Yuanshou’s 44th year, you went to Luoyang for the examinations. Vice Minister Wu made arrangements for you all along the way, having you stay at the Wu household in Luoyang with Old Madam Shou’s care, without worry for food or clothing. You placed third in the examinations, from then on renowned throughout the realm—on this point, Yu Qingwu, do you also acknowledge it?”

Between these two interrogations, Lan Shanjun had already supported Nanny Qian to the front of the crowd. She stood to one side and suddenly asked: “What do you want him to acknowledge?”

Wang Kui said loudly: “Naturally, to acknowledge Vice Minister Wu’s kindness toward him!”

Hearing this, Lan Shanjun laughed lightly but didn’t immediately engage with him. She only consolingly patted Nanny Qian’s hand, then walked before Yu Qingwu who was covered in ink, taking out her handkerchief to give him.

But Yu Qingwu didn’t dare accept it.

His hands were also dirty. He feared soiling the handkerchief.

Seeing she ignored him, Wang Kui felt dissatisfied and frowned: “Who are you to him?”

Lan Shanjun glanced at him sideways, her hand pressed to her waist. A waist sword was drawn out. With just one stroke, the sword’s glinting light lay horizontally before Wang Kui’s eyes.

She had always used killing strikes. Wang Kui, a weak scholar, experiencing such sword intent so suddenly—how could he withstand it? His legs went somewhat weak, and he was forced backward several steps.

Seeing this, the others became hesitant.

They had come along firstly filled with righteous indignation, feeling Yu Qingwu’s betrayal of his teacher was universally condemned. But they didn’t wish to entangle with a woman.

Especially a woman with a sword.

Since ancient times, women were troublesome—if you won, no one praised you; if you lost, it was even more disgraceful.

Lan Shanjun looked at them coldly. Seeing they weren’t causing more trouble, she said: “I practice with the saber. Using a sword, I’m not very skilled.”

Yu Qingwu couldn’t help but smile.

This was Shanjun’s first time using a sword, wasn’t it? This was what she had bought yesterday. Nanny Qian had even joked with him yesterday: “Young Master Yu, you’re in trouble! In the future when she tells you to go east, you won’t dare go west!”

Who would have thought that today this sword would be wielded for him against others.

Yu Qingwu sighed, unwilling to let Shanjun stand in front of him. But just as he was about to speak, he saw her raise her hand and use the handkerchief to wipe his neck.

His body stiffened. He naturally lowered his head and heard her say softly: “Lower it a bit more. You’re too tall.”

The bitter feelings in Yu Qingwu’s heart inexplicably surged up. He bent down, extending his head, gritting his teeth as he said: “All right.”

Lan Shanjun then wiped clean the ink around his eyes for him. She forcibly stuffed the handkerchief into his hands: “Wipe your hands too.”

After doing all this, she turned to look at Wang Kui. She didn’t recognize this person.

She asked: “What’s your name?”

Wang Kui had already recovered his momentum: “Wang Kui.”

Lan Shanjun thought for a moment: “I’ve never heard of you. I imagine ten years from now you’ll still be mediocre and worthless.”

If he were famous, she should know of him.

Wang Kui laughed: “Even if mediocre and worthless, it’s better than someone who betrays their teacher becoming infamous throughout the realm.”

But Lan Shanjun asked: “Who told you he betrayed his teacher?”

“Vice Minister Wu?”

Wang Kui said excitedly: “Does this even need to be said?”

Lan Shanjun also raised her voice: “Why doesn’t it need to be said? If Vice Minister Wu personally said Yu Qingwu betrayed his teacher, then let him stand here—”

Her sword fell straight down, the sword tip pointing to the ground. She said loudly: “Let him stand before the Shou residence, beating drums and gongs to tell the world that his student, the student he painstakingly taught for over ten years, is an ungrateful wretch—why doesn’t he come—I ask you, if Wu Qingchuan says he betrayed his teacher, why doesn’t he come say it himself but instead has you come?”

Wang Kui was stunned by her words, then rebuked: “Teacher is of high righteousness, of pure character. He doesn’t hold grudges against Yu Qingwu and doesn’t wish to entangle with petty people. But this doesn’t mean Yu Qingwu didn’t do wrong.”

Lan Shanjun stared at him intently: “What did he do wrong?”

“The Court of Imperial Stud exposed Marquis Boyuan’s private tea trading—was that wrong? Yu Qingwu, unafraid of offending the powerful, provided strong evidence of Marquis Boyuan’s corruption and bribery, pleading for the people—was that wrong?”

Wang Kui was momentarily stumped by the question. Because Yu Qingwu’s previous actions had no fault whatsoever.

Lan Shanjun then said: “Then let me also ask you—in this matter, was it Marquis Boyuan who, under interrogation, named Vice Minister Wu as an accomplice? Do you acknowledge this or not?”

“In this matter, was Vice Minister Wu only implicated because he had previously corresponded with Marquis Boyuan about tea matters? Do you acknowledge this or not?”

Wang Kui was stunned, caught in her trap again.

But having studied for over ten years, he immediately reacted: “As Vice Minister Wu’s disciple, Yu Qingwu colluded with the Shu faction to falsely accuse his teacher, wanting to send him to prison unjustly—isn’t that a fact?”

Lan Shanjun then smiled: “If you say it like that, then you believe that even if Vice Minister Wu took bribes and conspired with Marquis Boyuan over tea profits, Yu Qingwu should still have helped him?”

Wang Kui: “Teacher Wu didn’t—”

Lan Shanjun: “That was determined later!”

She sneered: “That was later, determined by the Three Judicial Offices’ investigation.”

“You claim to read the books of sages. Though I’m merely a woman who never enters court, even I know that once one wears an official’s hat, one must handle affairs impartially. Whether the criminal is one’s teacher, father, or friend, when evidence exists at the time, one must trust the evidence.”

“If evidence is conclusive, then those who should remove their official hats should remove them, those who should be executed should be executed. If evidence is mistaken, then those who are wronged should have their grievances cleared, those who deserve vindication should receive it.”

“What, in today’s world, conducting affairs impartially is also wrong? Vice Minister Wu didn’t do this deed, so was he punished? Didn’t he return safely?”

She mocked: “If Vice Minister Wu hates Yu Qingwu because of this matter, he’s the one who should reflect—why, after teaching Yu Qingwu for over ten years to be a good official, to be a blade for the nation, when it came to himself, did he want him to become a corrupt official instead?”

Wang Kui was silenced, but others beside him immediately said: “What a sharp-tongued young lady, distorting right and wrong. Yu Qingwu received kindness from Vice Minister Wu and should have pleaded for the people alongside him, yet he willingly degenerated, fell into factional struggles, became a tool of the Shu Prefecture faction…”

Lan Shanjun looked directly at the speaker: “The two words ‘factional struggle’—do you dare beat drums and say them now?”

That student frowned: “What do you mean?”

Lan Shanjun’s face was full of mockery: “From beginning to end, Yu Qingwu only did one thing—reporting Marquis Boyuan for selling tea and accepting bribes. If this is what you call factional struggle, then in the future when you become an official, will you still do your duty? Will you still investigate corrupt officials? As officials, if you confine yourselves to factional struggles, seeing before your eyes only the square inch within a copper coin’s hole, yet here you loudly proclaim that others are wrong to plead for the people—”

Her gaze swept across this group of Imperial Academy students: “Since this incident, Yu Qingwu has never spoken a single disparaging word about Vice Minister Wu, yet Vice Minister Wu has you come splash Yu Qingwu with filthy ink…”

“Does such a teacher deserve to be called a teacher? Do you people, acting like running dogs, deserve to be called scholars?”

Lan Shanjun held the sword in one hand and pointed to Yu Qingwu with the other, saying word by word: “Though he has ink on him, he’s cleaner than you.”

Yu Qingwu then laughed heartily.

That melancholic qi in his heart suddenly dissipated. He felt he didn’t need to say anything to this group. What Shanjun said was enough for him to persist through difficult times for the rest of his life.

But Lan Shanjun wasn’t finished. She then looked at Wang Kui: “In Yuanshou’s 34th year, Yu Qingwu was seven years old, yet fate was cruel—his parents died. It was a difficult time, yet you said he brought death to his father and mother—you said these words just now. Do you dare acknowledge them?”

Embarrassment flashed across Wang Kui’s face. He had truly been angry at the time, which is why he misspoke. He did acknowledge: “This matter was my fault.”

Lan Shanjun looked at him unwavering: “At that time, Vice Minister Wu was demoted to Jiangnan. Hearing there was a peach garden at Mount Duancang, he went to seek the forest. The schoolmaster at Mount Duancang treated him with great courtesy, inviting him to teach. Among more than fifty students, he selected Yu Qingwu, whom the master regarded most highly, because Yu Qingwu had the talent of photographic memory, his reading and literacy both first-rate—”

Though not spoken aloud, everyone understood her meaning.

Even without Wu Qingchuan, he would still have achieved something.

Wang Kui wanted to argue, but Lan Shanjun’s scornful sound drowned out his voice: “And in Yuanshou’s 44th year, Juren Wang, looking at your age, you should have been seventeen or eighteen then. Looking at your righteous indignation and knowing-everything appearance—then why didn’t you stand up and say something when Young Miss Su died that year?”

Wang Kui’s expression immediately turned ugly, his mouth no longer nimble. He indeed knew about the Su siblings being killed by Lin Ji. So at the beginning when Lin Ji died and Yu Qingwu told His Majesty that his relationship with his teacher wasn’t good, he had thought Yu Qingwu was deliberately distancing himself from his teacher, that he was protecting his teacher, which is why he didn’t speak out.

Who knew Yu Qingwu would later be so black-hearted and ruthless as to want to condemn Vice Minister Wu to death?

Seeing him like this, Lan Shanjun became even more contemptuous: “Back then, you didn’t dare speak. Today, why do you dare?”

Bringing up this matter, Wang Kui was speechless.

Lan Shanjun didn’t wish to entangle further with this group. She sheathed her waist sword with a reverse motion, instantly returning it to the scabbard at her waist, and said: “When Vice Minister Wu seeks disciples, they’re worlds apart. At the front is Yu Qingwu—at the back, is it you?”

With these words, Wang Kui was already furious, but having just been interrogated, the words reached his lips yet couldn’t be spoken. His face turned pale. Those beside him had just come along. Seeing Lan Shanjun’s words had implications and that Wang Kui didn’t dare refute, they became somewhat uncertain.

Finally, it was Nanny Qian who, seeing her two scholars had stopped talking, immediately rolled up her sleeves and grabbed the ink bucket someone had set aside, splashing it toward Wang Kui and his companions. Her movements were so fast, so nimble—even faster than Lan Shanjun who had trained with the saber.

Wang Kui and the others quickly fled. Nanny Qian threw the bucket, which landed perfectly on the head of the person who had been responsible for splashing ink earlier. Then she cursed loudly: “Wretched brats! Don’t even piss to see your own reflections before coming to provoke us! You’re getting off easy today—I didn’t make you drink my footwashing water!”

She stretched her voice to curse: “Bah! A bunch of pigs and dogs, bird-brained monkeys, like rotten wood, like dung plastered on walls—”

Cursing away, she suddenly caught her breath: “Young Master Yu, how does that curse go?”

Yu Qingwu smiled softly: “Rotten wood cannot be carved, walls of dung cannot be plastered.”

Too long—Nanny Qian couldn’t learn it. She continued cursing what she knew best: “Why are you running with your tails between your legs! Go lick dog shit off the walls, you bunch of twerps!”

This was Lan Shanjun’s first time seeing Nanny Qian’s full power. She was somewhat stunned. Nanny Qian glanced over and felt she should be more refined—mustn’t frighten her own people. So she took off her shoe and chased after them to throw at their heads: “This old woman will go to the Imperial Academy tomorrow to ask your teachers, see exactly what your names are, actually running to someone else’s residence to splash ink. I’ll also go to the palace to ask His Majesty, recite your names one by one to him, and ask why the Imperial Academy would admit you bunch of fools!”

She spat: “You all just wait. If I don’t deal with you, I won’t be surnamed Qian!”

Once they had all fled, she turned to look at Yu Qingwu and said with heartache: “Oh my, now he’s become a little black melon.”

Yu Qingwu then smiled. He said: “It can be washed clean.”

He said resolutely: “With you here, I can definitely wash it very clean.”

——

Yu Qingwu went back to bathe and change clothes. Nanny Qian was in the courtyard chopping pork—bought today. Lan Shanjun had originally planned to make them pork buns.

The old woman chopped and chopped, chopped and chopped, getting angrier as she chopped, muttering: “What kind of people! I must show them what’s what.”

Lan Shanjun was curious: “How will you do it?”

Nanny Qian: “People like us have many methods—”

But it wasn’t convenient to tell Lan Shanjun.

She coughed and pointed to Yu Qingwu’s room: “Miss Shanjun, go check on Young Master Yu. When scholars get splashed with ink, their hearts certainly feel bad.”

Young couples comforting each other—this was the way to get along long-term.

Lan Shanjun stood up and nodded: “All right.”

Nanny Qian smiled: “Go on. His heart is moved. Today you could be called a beauty rescuing a scholar—written as a play, it would sound quite good.”

Lan Shanjun bent to pick up a box of dried pork they’d bought today, saying cheerfully: “That’s certainly not as satisfying as you—you could be called ‘Old Grandmother Displays Her Skills to Save Her Grandson.'”

After saying this, she walked away with light steps, leaving Nanny Qian standing there dazed, thinking about her last sentence.

Then she chopped even more vigorously—chop, chop, chop, chop, chop, chop—this old woman could actually enjoy the blessings of children and grandchildren.

On the other side, Yu Qingwu had just finished bathing and changing. Seeing Lan Shanjun, he felt somewhat ashamed: “Shanjun… I’ve made you laugh at me.”

When he had selfishly agreed to the marriage with Shanjun, he had imagined this day when she would see him like this. But when it actually happened, it was more humiliating and unwelcome than he’d imagined in his mind.

Being a man was like being a peacock—you only wanted to display your tail feathers, yet she’d seen his rear end instead.

He sat down, sighing: “Shanjun, every time my bad side is always seen by you.”

So it was understandable that Shanjun didn’t have romantic feelings for him.

Lan Shanjun placed the dried pork in his lap: “Yu Qingwu, you did nothing wrong. Don’t say you’re bad.”

Yu Qingwu was about to speak, but Lan Shanjun interrupted: “Listen to me.”

She thought he couldn’t let go of matters with Wu Qingchuan.

Yu Qingwu nodded earnestly.

Lan Shanjun looked at him: “I remember Wu Qingchuan once told you about the difference between paths. One road, dividing into two paths, is ‘qi’ [divergence].”

Yu Qingwu hummed sullenly in acknowledgment.

Lan Shanjun also sat down, leaning against the wall: “You and Wu Qingchuan parted ways—that is indeed ‘qi.’ But you didn’t give up. You tried many methods to achieve your goals: maneuvering with the Imperial Grandson, joining the Shu faction, gradually reforming horse administration with the Court of Imperial Stud—one road with two directions is ‘qi,’ three directions is ‘cha,’ four directions is ‘qu,’ five directions is ‘kang,’ six directions is ‘zhuang’—you try one method after another, never giving up. Naturally, you walk a broad and open road [kang zhuang da dao].”

After finishing, she took a piece of dried pork from his lap: “Want some?”

Yu Qingwu took it and lowered his head to chew carefully. Without realizing it, his lips were trembling.

He thought: since ancient times, no sage had been as fortunate as him.

He had Shanjun. They didn’t.

Seeing this, Lan Shanjun smiled: “Yu Qingwu, you cry quite easily.”

Yu Qingwu turned his head away, sobbing: “Shanjun, is this bad of me?”

Lan Shanjun then raised her hand and gently touched his hair, saying gently: “Though searching a lifetime through jade terraces and jade trees, one like you is rare in this mortal world.”