Chapter 320

Li Lingshan asked again, but Wang Xiujin remained silent. Helpless, Li Lingshan shook his head inwardly and returned home with Wang Xiujin. Upon arriving, they first went to pay respects to the old master. Seeing guests in the old master's room, they did not stay long and soon left. During dinner, they noticed the old master’s face was darkened. Not knowing what had transpired, they refrained from asking and instead glanced toward their father and uncle. The elder master gave a subtle look, and Manager Mi’s expression was also somewhat displeased. Wang Xiujin guessed silently—could it be that his father had offended the grandfather?

After dinner, both were summoned by the elder master and Manager Mi. Wang Xiujin sent his son to his room and followed Li Lingshan to his father’s courtyard. Before they could speak, the uncle explained the afternoon’s visitors to the old master. The guests were old comrades who had shared life and death with the old master. Not long ago, they had even gone to watch a play together. Their purpose, however, was unsettling: they wanted to marry off their granddaughter as a concubine to Li Lingshan. The old master had refused, but the visitor was persistent, even bringing up how he had once saved the old master’s life on the battlefield. The old master argued that it wasn’t that man who saved him but someone else; the visitor insisted otherwise.

“Could it be that he has some unspeakable reason for saying such things? Otherwise, given his status, he wouldn’t force his granddaughter to become a concubine,” Wang Xiujin thought, unwilling to suspect the young woman’s character.

“At first, I thought the same and asked. But the old master said the girl had glimpsed Lingshan from afar once and was captivated—she constantly yearns for him, insisting she will marry no one else. If family pressures her to marry otherwise, she threatens to take her own life,” Manager Mi said with evident disgust. He added that the visitor threatened, if the old master did not agree, he would spread rumors accusing the old master of ingratitude and even embellish the story further.

“Then let him die,” Li Lingshan said coldly. “I will not take a concubine.” Saying this, he grasped Wang Xiujin’s hand and started to leave.

Manager Mi looked at the silent Wang Xiujin and asked, “What shall we do? The old master refuses, Lingshan won’t agree, but if that man spreads rumors outside and ruins the Li family’s reputation, what then?”

“Tomorrow, talk to Xiujin. He has his ways. My son isn’t without cunning. If not, why would he come knocking when the emperor already issued an edict? He’s trying to force the Li family into a choice. Taking a concubine might be the lesser evil, but there could be darker schemes behind it,” the elder master said, clearly disapproving of that old friend.

Manager Mi considered and nodded in agreement.

Back in his own courtyard, Wang Xiujin sat at his desk. Earlier in the day, he had wondered if there might be an opportunity to sully someone’s reputation. Now, the chance had arrived unbidden. Though sullying someone’s name could harm a young woman’s honor, if her grandfather was willing to stoop to this, Wang Xiujin saw no reason to hold back. The sooner this was handled, the better—waiting for the opponent to act first before retaliating would be too late.

He summoned a servant and gave brief instructions. The servant immediately hurried out.

Li Lingshan hadn’t caught what Wang Xiujin said to the servant and assumed he was sending a message to a shop. He wrestled with how to speak to Wang Xiujin about it—he had no interest in the granddaughter or the matter. He had never even met her. Trying to find the right words, he hesitated, fearing that speaking up might cause misunderstanding where none existed. Several times he opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, frustrated. He remembered how talkative he used to be with Wang Xiujin, and wondered when he had grown so reticent.

Wang Xiujin was employing tactics from his past life’s online smear campaigns—but the target of the defamation would not be the granddaughter, but the old visitor who came to propose. If he stood on a moral high ground, Wang Xiujin would strip that away. He did not believe this man was a paragon of virtue with transparent business dealings. Leaning on powerful connections and grasping at influential patrons, transitioning from farmer to merchant and slowly building the family’s enterprise, Wang Xiujin doubted the man’s hands were clean. Even a friend he would not hesitate to sully—it revealed the man’s scheming mind.

Dealing with such a person was too easy, Wang Xiujin thought. He turned to meet Li Lingshan’s worried gaze and smiled. Rising, he sat astride Li Lingshan’s lap. Li Lingshan immediately wrapped his arms around Wang Xiujin, fearing he might fall. Wang Xiujin’s smile deepened as he placed a hand on Li Lingshan’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry. As long as I’m alive, no one will snatch you away. Someone as wonderful as you, I won’t share with anyone else.” He teased, tracing a fingertip along Li Lingshan’s chin, only to have it lightly bitten. Boldly, Wang Xiujin flicked the bitten finger across Li Lingshan’s tongue and joked, “You probably didn’t wash your hands after going to the bathroom just now.”

Li Lingshan sighed, exasperated. Wang Xiujin was truly heaven-sent to torment him, effortlessly shattering the good mood. But he was used to it by now. Without hesitation, he picked Wang Xiujin up and carried him toward the bed, paying no mind to the faint light outside. Every moment was too precious to waste. After being thoroughly worn out again and again, Wang Xiujin’s last thought before drifting to sleep was that Li Lingshan’s endurance was formidable indeed.

After waking exhausted, Wang Xiujin set aside yesterday’s matters. Before he rose, voices outside caught his attention. He called a servant in to inquire and learned that the Fifth Prince had entered the palace last night to report on plans to renovate the theater. The emperor not only approved but ordered funds from the treasury to be allocated, urging the prince to complete the theater swiftly. The emperor wished to see how the children would perform classic stories. The prince’s envoy conveyed the imperial decree and stressed that the performances were exclusively for the royal family’s viewing.

Wang Xiujin understood the prince’s caution. Though actors in ancient times were favored by nobles and wealthy patrons, their social standing remained low. The emperor allowing children to perform classic tales on stage was a tremendous favor, not because Wang Xiujin suggested it, but because the subject matter was a revered classic. Had the content been anything else, Wang Xiujin would have risked his life proposing it.

Getting out of bed, Wang Xiujin dressed and prepared to visit the school. He needed to borrow a book of classic stories and consider adaptations. A fable wouldn’t be too long, but a one-act play couldn’t be too brief either. He planned to spend the day at the school, gathering materials and discussing with the teachers the design and criteria for awarding honors certificates.

After a hurried bowl of porridge, Wang Xiujin left for the school. Upon arrival, he didn’t immediately speak to the teachers but observed the students in class. Looking at their innocent, youthful faces, he wondered what kind of futures awaited them. After a circuit, he went to the teachers’ office, found a spot, and straightforwardly stated his intentions.

The teachers listened with curiosity but also concern. “Could this cause trouble? Many regard performing on stage as a disreputable profession.”

“The opening ceremony will admit only students’ parents; even servants will be stopped at the door. The students on stage will be performing as a filial tribute to their parents. Even if rumors spread, so what? We have them honor their parents,” Wang Xiujin argued, his reasoning twisted but accepted. The teachers didn’t oppose because they found no grounds to object. The phrase “filial tribute through colorful attire” was enough to silence critics.

The teachers carefully selected suitable classic stories, mindful that the plays needed to emphasize filial piety. Wang Xiujin cleared his throat. “Don’t rush to pick stories yet. I have something else to say.” He then outlined plans to introduce awards for outstanding and exemplary students. “Only a few students will take the imperial exams. I want to propose a system where annually, up to ten students are chosen from our school, then one among them competes with others locally for the top ten. Those who excel then represent the city, then the province, and eventually the nation. The criteria will emphasize impeccable character, announced publicly to allow for supervision and reporting. Any misconduct results in immediate disqualification. The best students nationwide will receive rewards and even priority during the imperial exams.”

The teachers were stunned. “The court would agree to this?”

“Why not? Students under public scrutiny won’t have poor character. Besides, priority is just a convenience; if their knowledge is lacking, priority won’t help,” Wang Xiujin said with a smile. He was painting a grand vision—whether it materialized was up to the court’s decision. “Right now, we need to draft the selection rules.”

The teachers exchanged glances and suggested that since the selection is nationwide, the court should set the official rules. Their role would be to supplement those rules for their own school.

Wang Xiujin agreed after careful thought, already pondering how to frame the proposal. “One more thing I need your help with.” He wasn’t content to rely solely on rumors to discredit the man pressing for his granddaughter’s marriage into their family; he planned to enlist scholars as well, for the highest form of defamation was the erudite insult—scholars who could wound without vulgarity.