Chapter 21
Chapter 21: Meng Family
With 1,500 taels pressed against her chest, Jiang Jiang made it back to the Cloudcoming Inn in a state of breathless terror.
Even after she shut her door and climbed into bed, her heart kept pounding like a war drum.
This might be the most dangerous thing she’d done in her life.
No—either life.
“It’s a little unfair, but…” Jiang Jiang pulled out the three banknotes and stared at them reverently, as if they were sacred scripture. “This is basically robbing the rich to help the poor, right?”
Back when she lived with the Jiang family, she’d never seen bills this large.
To be honest, when she’d first seen that thick stack, she’d absolutely considered taking all of it.
But greed got people killed. Besides, even if Chen Jin Ting was an assassin who robbed and murdered, stealing from him still felt… undignified.
So she would call it borrowing.
Jiang Jiang knew the plot. Tonight, after Chu Yun Yue saved Chen Jin Ting, he would fall for her. After that, he would appear around her again and again—obsessed, unhinged, turning into a killer for her sake.
In the end, he would even die for Chu Yun Yue.
“I took your money today,” Jiang Jiang said solemnly to the ceiling. “Later… I’ll save your life. I, Jiang Jiang, do what I say.”
Right now she had no skills and no money. All she could do was survive by being shameless in small, careful ways—quietly, patiently, growing in the dark.
Someday, when she had real ability, she would repay what she owed Chen Jin Ting.
After admiring the banknotes until her eyes went dry, Jiang Jiang reluctantly tucked them away again.
Only then did she remember the other thing she’d taken—one of those manuals.
By candlelight, she lifted the thin book and finally saw the cover clearly.
Sunflower Manual.
“Holy… crap.”
Her hand jerked, and she threw the book away like it had bitten her.
Was this for real? Dong Fang Bu Bai’s Sunflower Manual was here?
Jiang Jiang took a few steadying breaths, then sat up and crawled over to pick it up again.
Maybe… it was just a coincidence.
Maybe the author was lazy and slapped a famous name on a random book. Maybe it wasn’t the Sunflower Manual she knew.
Clinging to that fragile hope, Jiang Jiang flipped to the first page.
Eight bold characters hit her like a slap.
To practice the divine art, first castrate yourself!
Jiang Jiang went numb.
It really was that Sunflower Manual.
Author, could you be any lazier?
There was no way she could give this to her brother.
But… who had Chen Jin Ting killed to get this?
A eunuch?
Honestly… possible.
You didn’t see many eunuchs outside, but the capital had plenty.
Still, if a eunuch had truly practiced the Sunflower Manual, he wouldn’t be this weak. Unless Chen Jin Ting himself had some peerless art?
No. If Chen Jin Ting were really that powerful, he wouldn’t have ended up like a half-dead dog in the back alley behind the Chu Residence.
Jiang Jiang thought back to the original plot. After Chen Jin Ting was saved, he only gave Chu Yun Yue a stack of banknotes. No manuals. No mention of manuals later, either.
So maybe this book didn’t matter.
Sunflower Manual—an empty name and nothing more.
“Whatever,” Jiang Jiang muttered. “I’ll use it to prop up a table leg.”
With that, she shoved the manual into her little bundle.
On Shang Si night, the capital blazed with lights. Crowds surged through the streets, laughter and music everywhere. Ru Yi Street, where the great families lived, was louder than usual—lanterns glowing, gates opening and closing, servants running like ants.
The Meng Residence.
Meng Xiang sat in the main seat, teacup in hand. He didn’t drink. His gaze moved from one son to the other, then settled on his younger son.
“Hao Wu. You attended today’s grand court session. What do you think?”
“Father,” Meng Hao Wu said with calm certainty, “the memorial from Xi Liang Prefecture proves nothing. Besides, last year’s relief silver and grain went by water route. Every major family had a hand in it. The crews changed multiple times along the way. Even if the Divine Constable Office and the Dali Court investigate, they won’t be able to trace it to us.”
On the surface, the waterways were controlled by nobles tied to Jiang Nan. Almost no one knew the Meng family had participated—and led it.
“Father,” Meng Hao Wen cut in, his voice eager with malice, “Gu Yan Qing is just looking for trouble. Should I… send some men to teach him a lesson?”
He’d always loved stirring chaos. In the past, he’d been dealt with more than once by Gu Yan Qing’s people, and he’d hated Gu Yan Qing ever since.
Especially yesterday on the city gate street—that scholar chanting “Chancellor Gu” again and again. Even now, thinking about it made Meng Hao Wen’s teeth itch.
Once he found that scholar, he’d make him beg to live and fail. Beg to die and fail.
“Idiot!” Meng Xiang’s face darkened. He hurled the teacup. Hot tea splashed across the floor.
“Father, please calm down!” Meng Hao Wen trembled and dropped to his knees.
“You think you’re someone who can touch Gu Yan Qing?” Meng Xiang’s voice echoed through the hall. “Do you understand what stands behind him? His Majesty.”
They didn’t truly fear Gu Yan Qing.
They feared Emperor Jianping.
They could refuse to respect a minister. They could not publicly slap the emperor’s face.
No matter how lofty the great clans were, they didn’t dare oppose His Majesty in the open. The last scraps of dignity between ruler and minister had to be maintained. If they struck Gu Yan Qing directly, His Majesty might flip the whole table.
And once faces were torn off, nothing would end cleanly.
That wasn’t what either side wanted—at least not yet.
“Useless trash,” Meng Xiang snapped. “Get out. And don’t leave the residence lately. Cause trouble again, and I’ll break your legs myself.”
Meng Hao Wen fled like he’d been chased by ghosts.
Soon only Meng Xiang and Meng Hao Wu remained.
“Father,” Meng Hao Wu said quietly, stepping closer, “the things in the mountain manor…”
“Don’t touch them,” Meng Xiang said, eyes deep and unreadable. “Not yet. Wait until the wind dies down.”
Today, Gu Yan Qing’s sudden mention of Xi Liang Prefecture—was it a probe, or something else?
Meng Xiang still hadn’t figured it out.
At the same time, the Gu Residence.
Gu Yan Qing was in an unusually good mood. His head guard held a freshly rolled list in both hands—the newly released pass list for this spring exam.
In Qing Yun Kingdom, the spring exam was held once every three years. The top ninety candidates became metropolitan graduates.
On the eighth day of the third month, those ninety metropolitan graduates would take the palace exam. In the end, only fifty-one would be chosen as jin shi.
Those fifty-one jin shi were the kingdom’s reserve pool of officials. And the most outstanding—like the top three—could even receive direct appointments from His Majesty.
“There are a few truly promising sprouts on this list,” Mu Kang said as he poured tea. “I didn’t expect Jiang Chao Sheng to make it too. His rank is low—seventy-eighth—but with the title of metropolitan graduate, entering officialdom later will be far easier.”
Even if he never became jin shi, a credential like that still opened doors.
And in the world of officials, doors mattered.