Chapter 64

Chapter 64: The Frivolous Young Lords’ Regret

“Hmph! Do you think this Young Master is like those people from your Duke Qi manor? Using Princess Ning of Qing’s silver ingots, coveting her dowry—Young Master was only pretending to be afraid. It was strategy! Heir Apparent Qi has been on the battlefield—surely even he isn’t too dim to grasp that?”

“That’s right!”

“We secretly followed them after, just so we could wipe out the whole bandit den!”

At that, Ye Rong grew more animated, the memory of last night’s valiant charge fresh in his mind. He raised his voice proudly.

“You all don’t know! When those bandits saw us few Young Masters coming, they were so terrified they nearly soiled themselves! They were just short of kneeling down, crying for mercy and calling us grandfather to spare them! But this Young Master, thinking of how many commoners had suffered under their cruelty, didn’t hesitate—not a word more—and struck down the first bandit on sight!”

“When the rest saw how decisive I was, that I didn’t follow any ‘code of honor,’ they all swarmed at us. But we ducked and struck, fists and feet flying. Without breaking a sweat, we slashed and kicked and chopped—bam, bam, bam! All two hundred bandits, wiped clean off the face of the earth!”

His words flowed without the slightest shame. To Ye Rong, even if some parts were… embellished, the core of it wasn’t far from the truth.

They had been fearless. They had brought down the bandits.

But to those listening, it was hard not to choke on secondhand embarrassment.

A servant from an official’s household, one with ties to the Ye family, covered his face in quiet shame as he watched Ye Rong beam.

[He says ‘without breaking a sweat,’ but it’s without lifting a finger, you fool! Ye Eldest Young Master, does that even sound like something a human would say? You think just because you beat a few guards you’re suddenly unmatched in the martial world?]

Forget it. He needed to hurry back and report to Master. Minister Ye had better fetch his son before this disaster of a performance got worse.

“I know him! He’s the one who knocked over my stall a few days back. Couldn’t even handle a riding whip properly. And now he’s claiming to have killed bandits?”

“That chubby one too—I saw him at a tavern stuffing himself with four whole pork hocks. Then he fell down the stairs and insisted the shopkeeper apologize to him.”

“And the one dressed all fancy with the fan—I think he’s surnamed Pei—he went to a brothel without silver and got clawed up by one of the girls!”

“That handsome one’s the worst. I heard he once asked for five girls at once!”

The crowd murmured, a wave of ridicule and whispers rippling like leaves in wind. Ye Rong turned back, face flushing with rage, trying to find the culprits—but there were too many faces, too many voices.

Pei Yu An quickly raised his fan to hide behind it.

Chen Bao Jing’s face burned red with shame.

Zhou Yu Zheng wished dearly for a crack in the earth to crawl into. [Thank the heavens I’ve done nothing outrageous enough for people to remember.]

Then his gaze flicked toward Shang Hang Yu, who stood steady as a mountain, calm and composed. [No wonder he’s our leader. Not even a flicker of shame.]

“Heh! Ye Young Master, do you believe the words you’re saying?” Qi Shu Xian’s eyes brimmed with scorn.

Ye Rong’s face went from red to purple, stunned. [How did it come to this? Everything we did was true… yet no one believes us!]

“Heir Apparent Qi,” Shang Hang Yu suddenly spoke, his voice lazy and careless, yet clear as wind across a blade, “You’d rather believe the Princess was taken by bandits than believe we saved her?”

His quiet words silenced the sneers. Qi Shu Xian’s mocking gaze faltered.

Their eyes met.

Qi Shu Xian’s stare was cold and disdainful. To him, these Young Masters were nothing but spoiled peacocks, living off their ancestors’ glories. Men like them weren’t even worth his gaze.

“Second Young Master Shang,” he said, “your words are laughable. Had your tale not been so ridiculous, I would’ve believed it. But your conduct, your ability, your past—what part of you gives me reason to believe anything you say?”

“Yes, I know you’re afraid the Duke manor might retaliate. And I do despise you. But since Zhi Wan made this choice, I will not resort to underhanded revenge. Besides—” he sneered, “even if you had tried to resist the bandits, you’d have been no match. It would’ve been death for nothing.”

“Enough, Shu Xian,” Madam Cui now stepped forward. Her voice was warm, even kindly, as she turned to Ye Rong and his companions. “I know the Young Masters simply didn’t wish Zhi Wan to suffer the shame of losing her virtue. But Duke Qi manor does not care about such things. We only want justice against those who harmed her. And since the bandits are all dead… let this matter rest.”

“Regardless of whether Zhi Wan’s innocence remains or not, our Duke manor will never look down on her.”

Her words sounded fair, but everyone knew: unless Sheng Zhi Wan could prove her purity, the wagging tongues of the world could drown her.

Only by doing what Madam Dong once did, could the whispers be silenced—even if the world still judged her in their hearts, none would dare say it aloud.

“You—You’re shameless…” Ye Rong trembled with fury.

Yet he could find no words to refute them.

Everything the crowd said—every embarrassing tale—was real. It was because of their past recklessness that no one believed them now.

And for the first time, Ye Rong truly regretted it.

Princess Ning had risked everything to save them.

And now, because of their reputations, she couldn’t even be cleared of guilt.