Chapter Thirty-One: The Bully

At last, the fleet arrived at the dock. Led by Magistrate Ma, the officials of Jiangnan waited respectfully on both sides, prepared to welcome the Supervising Inspector and the scholars. When Sun Jiuwang disembarked, everyone bowed deeply. Sun Jiuwang exchanged a few cordial words, then, surrounded by the crowd, departed in his sedan chair.

Qin Muchuan sat in the cabin, gazing down at the dense crowd below. He found the scene dull, yawned repeatedly, and leaned back comfortably in his chair. He hadn't followed Minister Sun ashore—partly because he disliked the rituals of officialdom, and partly because the past fortnight had exhausted him. He intended to wait until the crowds dispersed, then take Gu Qiulan with him to lodge at the official academy.

Yet today, Gu Qiulan, who usually sought him out early, had not appeared at all. Qin Muchuan felt a pang of worry. He knew he had neglected her lately, but it couldn’t be helped. Six scholars against him alone—Qin Muchuan felt he’d read and written more in the past two weeks than in his entire twenty years of life!

He sighed softly and, summoning his energy, went off to find his little wife.

At that moment, Gu Qiulan was clutching her swollen head in agony. “Madam Zhuang, does your hangover soup do anything at all? Why am I still so dizzy?”

Qiaoyun sneered, “I thought as long as you had a beauty in your arms, you’d be invincible.”

Gu Qiulan’s head throbbed, and she had no patience for banter. “Get lost! I didn’t do anything!”

“Nothing?” Qiaoyun suppressed her anger. “You smashed the pleasure boat to bits and nearly trampled someone—how’s that nothing?”

Gu Qiulan waved her hand dismissively, unwilling to reply.

Miaomiao carefully brought the hangover soup, urging Gu Qiulan to drink it. Just then, the door creaked open and Qin Muchuan, surprised, looked at the scene before him. “Qiulan, what’s happened to you?”

Gu Qiulan, seeing him, felt inexplicably guilty—as if a husband caught by his wife after a night of indiscretion. She lowered her head and mumbled, refusing to answer.

Madam Zhuang quickly spoke, “The young mistress overindulged last night. The wine was delicious but potent, and she’s been drunk all night.”

Qin Muchuan hurried over, sat beside Gu Qiulan, wrapped her in his arms, and gently pressed her forehead. “How could you be so careless?”

Qiaoyun, watching the beauty so willingly nestle into his embrace, thought herself prophetic! Gu Qiulan, for reasons unknown, melted into Qin Muchuan’s arms as soon as he held her, whining softly, “It’s because you always ignore me, husband! I had to drown my sorrows in wine.”

Qin Muchuan saw her delicate brows knit and a hint of pain in her expression—she clearly felt wretched from the hangover. He felt remorseful and hurried to say, “It’s my fault. No matter how busy I am, I shouldn’t neglect you.”

Qiaoyun, Madam Zhuang, and Miaomiao stood like posts, watching Gu Qiulan transform into a pitiful little lamb burrowing into Qin Muchuan’s arms, shamelessly acting coy. Above their heads, one thought flashed: Truly, my eyes must be blind!

Especially upright Qiaoyun, who dearly wanted to ask Gu the Scoundrel—how could she, after finding a new lover at night, so calmly flirt with her rightful spouse the next day?

“Husband, my chest hurts,” Gu Qiulan said, placing Qin Muchuan’s hand on her rounded bosom. “I can hardly breathe... Ah... it hurts...”

Qin Muchuan was alarmed. “Qiulan, don’t frighten me.” He looked anxiously at Madam Zhuang and the others. “Open the windows, let in some air! Madam Zhuang, you know some medicine—what’s wrong with Qiulan? Is it just the wine? Why is her chest hurting? Should she not drink?”

Madam Zhuang, still stunned, only responded after Qin Muchuan had asked several times. Seeing Gu Qiulan’s coquettish manner made her shudder. “Young mistress has always been healthy. It’s just the wine and the rocking of the ship. Once she rests at the academy, she’ll be fine.”

Outside, the crowds had dispersed, and Qin Muchuan decided it was time to disembark. Just as he was about to ask if Gu Qiulan felt better, she toppled sideways. Alarmed, he hastily caught her in his arms.

Fine, no more questions—he simply carried her out.

Gu Qiulan buried her head in Qin Muchuan’s neck—Qiaoyun was right, when a beauty is in someone’s arms, all aches vanish, faces grow thicker, and everything seems easier.

Qin Muchuan was merely a minor official, and the journey had worn down his youthful arrogance. Now, their group traveled simply toward the academy. Madam Zhuang and Qiaoyun went ahead with the luggage, while Qin Muchuan and Gu Qiulan lagged behind.

The academy had several spacious rooms reserved for the imperial envoys.

Inside the carriage, Qin Muchuan held Gu Qiulan, rubbing her temples. “Qiulan, don’t drink anymore.” He gazed at her helplessly. “You’re too willful, but I was busy with important matters. We agreed, didn’t we? We can’t let Father look down on us!”

Gu Qiulan lay back, enjoying the care, murmuring in assent.

“These past days, I’ve read the essays of Jiangnan’s famed candidates—they’re nothing special!” Qin Muchuan, true to his nature, began boasting. “If His Majesty hadn’t appointed me, I’d be tempted to compete with them! Ha! But that would be unfair to these scholars... Ah—!”

The carriage lurched to a sudden stop. Qin Muchuan nearly bit his tongue, and his finger slipped dangerously close to Gu Qiulan’s eye. Both their faces darkened. Qin Muchuan, ever the little tyrant of the capital, found his composure vanished and lifted the curtain, shouting, “Leshan! Are you trying to kill your young master?!”

Leshan wore a miserable expression. “Young master, some horses rushed by just now—I was startled!”

As he spoke, a man atop a spirited horse waved his whip menacingly. “How do you drive, servant? Are you blind?”

Leshan turned back quickly. “Sir, it was you who—” Before he finished, the man lashed at him with his whip, cursing, “Who do you think you are, daring to talk back to me? Do you know who I am?!”

“I don’t care who you are!” Qin Muchuan stormed out of the carriage. The man, perched on horseback, forced Qin Muchuan to look up, which only enraged him further. “And who are you? Do you know who I am?!”

Ma Shihong, having been beaten for no reason the previous day, rode into the marketplace in a fury, galloping recklessly and enjoying the panic he caused. Who would dare block his path in Jiangnan Xuzhou! When he saw the carriage ahead, his entourage immediately surrounded it. Ma Shihong, feeling triumphant, was ready to teach the blind fools inside a lesson. Then the curtain lifted, and a beautiful youth emerged.

This beauty was unlike any he’d seen—elegant and spirited, evoking the old heroes of poetry, as graceful as willow catkins, as stunning as a fleeting shadow across the river. Ma Shihong was transfixed; the youth surpassed any courtesan he’d seen in Jiangnan’s pleasure houses. No, such a comparison was an insult—only the term “banished immortal” could suit him.

Qin Muchuan noticed Ma Shihong’s lecherous gaze and instantly understood the man’s vile thoughts. In the capital, anyone who dared look at him that way ended up battered beyond recognition; over the years, no one had dared such a glance. Now, in Jiangnan, that long-unseen look drove Qin Muchuan to fury.

“Get lost!” Qin Muchuan shouted.

Ma Shihong snapped back to himself, adopting what he thought was a charming smile. “Ah, I didn’t realize it was your carriage, sir—my apologies. I am Ma Shihong. Since we’ve met by chance, why not become friends? Your accent isn’t local—are you visiting relatives or sightseeing?”

“I said get lost! Didn’t you hear me?” Qin Muchuan cursed himself for not bringing the guards from the Duke’s Mansion—who’d have expected such a despicable scoundrel during an examination trip!

Ma Shihong, unusually patient, dismounted and said, “Why be angry? It was my fault. Changfu, prepare some gifts at the manor; I’ll go to the gentleman’s residence to apologize! I, Ma Shihong, value etiquette above all.”

Suddenly, a woman’s voice called from the carriage, “Husband, aren’t we leaving yet?”

Ma Shihong shuddered—the voice was eerily like last night’s demon!

Leshan seized the moment, drove the carriage forward, and a cloud of yellow dust rose. Qin Muchuan, fuming, returned to the cabin. “What bad luck!”

Gu Qiulan soothed him, “Don’t be angry—it’s not worth it.”

Qin Muchuan tried to compose himself, but Leshan cried out, “Young master, he’s chasing us!”

“Damn it!” Qin Muchuan exploded, pounding the carriage wall. “If I don’t beat him senseless, I’ll write my own name backward!”

“Excellent!” Gu Qiulan applauded. “Husband, you’re so heroic!”

With his beloved by his side, Qin Muchuan felt even more spirited.

Outside, Leshan wailed, “Young master, there are a dozen of them!”

Qin Muchuan replied, “Let them come! Am I afraid?!”

“They’re all armed—the shortest blade is this long!”

Qin Muchuan: Σ( ° △°|||)︴...