WSMTATMC C178

Chapter 178

After returning from the military barracks, the two could do nothing but wait in anxious silence. Lin Sui, unable to sit still, tried several times to rush to the Li household to look for Qing’er, but each attempt was stopped by Wang Ying.

“They dared to snatch the child in broad daylight,” Wang Ying reasoned. “They won’t keep her hidden in their own home—going there now would be useless. You’d only give that old witch more reason to mock you.”

“But… but how long are we supposed to just sit here waiting?” Lin Sui’s voice trembled with desperation.

“You heard General Zheng,” Wang Ying said firmly. “Those two men were personally left behind by the Marquis. Their skills are far beyond ordinary soldiers. Trust me—they’ll bring her back safely.”

When they arrived home, Wang Ying first went to see his son. Yuanbao, who had witnessed Qing’er being taken, was so terrified that his eyes were swollen like ripe peaches. Though he had stopped crying, his little face was still pale and shaken.

“You must have been scared, huh?” Wang Ying murmured softly, holding the boy close.

“When will Sister Qing’er come back?”

“People have already gone to find her,” Wang Ying assured him. “She’ll be back very soon.”

“The bad guys should be caught!” Yuanbao sniffled angrily. “Take them to the magistrate and give them fifty strokes!”

“Alright,” Wang Ying said, managing a smile. “Father will make sure they’re punished.” Then, turning to the playmate, he added, “Chunsheng, take Yuanbao out to play for a while.”

Once the boy was gone, Madam Li (his mil) asked quietly, “Any news yet? Has the child been found?”

Wang Ying shook his head. “Not yet. But I’m sure it was the Li family’s doing. When we were at the barracks, General Zheng assigned two men to us—both were handpicked by the Marquis himself. Skilled fighters. They should be able to track her down soon.”

Madam Li pressed a hand to her chest. “I was playing with the children when two men came out of nowhere! They grabbed Qing’er and ran. I wanted to chase them, but I couldn’t leave Yuanbao behind… I was terrified.”

“It’s my fault,” Wang Ying said grimly. “I never imagined the Li family would go so far.”

“No one could have guessed they’d be brazen enough to kidnap a child in public,” Madam Li sighed. “Go comfort Sui’er. Don’t let him drive himself sick with worry.”

“Alright. I’ll go now.”

In Lin Sui’s room, Wang Ying found him sitting on the floor, clutching Qing’er’s discarded clothes, tears streaming silently down his face. No words could console him. All Wang Ying could do was pray that the girl would be found soon—his poor cousin had already endured too much.

As dusk fell, the household was silent when suddenly—bang bang bang—someone knocked at the gate.

The gatekeeper opened the side door to find two unfamiliar men standing there—one of them carrying a small child on his back.

It was Qing’er.

Chen Fang rushed forward at once. “Miss Qing’er is back! Miss Qing’er has returned!”

Wang Ying and Lin Sui came running. Qing’er was lying limp on one of the men’s backs, her hair roughly chopped short, her clothes changed, a bruise darkening her cheek.

Lin Sui’s tears fell instantly. He dropped to his knees and kowtowed. “Thank you—thank you both, truly!”

The two men stepped aside quickly. “Please, don’t—stand, young master.”

Wang Ying helped him up. “Go see to the child first. We can talk later.”

Lin Sui carefully took Qing’er into his arms and carried her to the back room. The little girl was asleep, exhausted from crying. He changed her into clean clothes but didn’t wake her, tucking her gently beneath the blankets and kissing her forehead. The overwhelming relief of having her back made his chest ache—sharp, sweet, and painful all at once.

After a long while, he came out and asked, “May I know where you found her?”

One of the men bowed. “You may call me Qiao Da, and this is my younger brother, Qiao Er. We were entrusted by the Marquis himself. From now on, we’ll guard your family, to prevent any further harm.”

“Thank you, both of you,” Lin Sui said, bowing again.

Qiao Da explained, “We first went to the Li residence. Since Miss Qing’er was taken by them, someone would have to pass along messages about her whereabouts. One of us kept watch outside while the other slipped into the main house to listen in.”

He had hidden himself on the roof of Madam Li’s chamber. Half an hour later, a shadowy figure crept in through the back door and was escorted to her room.

There, the man reported how they had kidnapped the child and where she was being kept.

Originally, Madam Li had wanted to kill Qing’er outright to vent her hatred. But after being humiliated at the Chen residence, she changed her mind.

“Death is too easy,” she had sneered. “Better to sell that little mute to the brothels or the slavers. Let her live a dog’s life—make her pay back Li Mu’s debt with her own suffering!”

The man had taken the money and left, heading toward the outskirts. Qiao Da and Qiao Er tailed him all the way to a derelict temple outside the city.

Inside, they found Qing’er bound hand and foot, her face streaked with tears, her fine little dress replaced with rags.

“Back already? What did Madam Li say?” one of the kidnappers asked.

“She said to sell the girl cheap, to a slave broker. The money’s ours to keep.”

He grabbed a pair of scissors, intending to cut her hair. Qing’er struggled desperately and bit his hand hard enough to draw blood.

“Argh!” he roared, slapping her face. “You little mute dog! Once you’re sold, let’s see who’ll save you!” And with that, he hacked off her long black hair.

Qing’er clutched her head and wept soundlessly, her throat burning. At last, she forced a hoarse, broken cry—“A…fu…” (“Father…”).

The kidnappers froze, startled. “Careful, don’t kill her!”

Before they could react further, both were struck down—killed instantly by the Qiao brothers.

They carried Qing’er home without delay.

Wang Ying exhaled in relief. “Thank heaven she’s safe. But… will the Li family cause more trouble?”

Qiao Da and Qiao Er exchanged glances. “You need not worry,” Qiao Da said quietly. “They won’t trouble you again. We’re staying at Xiangyun Inn on Zhenghe Street—if you need us, send word anytime.”

“Thank you both.”

The two clasped their fists and departed.

At first, Wang Ying didn’t understand why they were so certain the Li family would back off. But a few days later, word spread: Madam Li had been found hanged in her own home.

The magistrate declared it suicide. Lord Li refused to believe it but could find no proof otherwise. The case was closed.

Qing’er awoke soon after, feverish but alive. She took four or five days to recover—and then something extraordinary happened.

She spoke.

Her voice was faint and halting, each word squeezed out one by one, but it was unmistakable—she could speak.

The doctor said the fright she’d suffered had somehow shocked her throat, clearing the blockage that had silenced her for years.

It was a miracle. Lin Sui began teaching her to speak properly, and though her voice was still weak and her throat ached after only a few words, with time she would recover fully.

By the end of March, Chen Qingyan finally returned from the capital—bringing with him the glorious news that he had placed first in the imperial examinations.

The prefecture erupted in celebration. Officials beat drums and lit firecrackers all the way to the Chen residence, announcing the triumph. The fanfare was even greater than at Qingyun’s wedding.

Drums boomed, firecrackers roared, and two yamen runners carried a massive plaque reading Top Scholar of the Realm right to the Chens’ front gate.

Crowds swelled, layer upon layer, surrounding the house so tightly there was no room to move.

It was the first zhuangyuan (状元) in Jizhou’s history—everyone wanted to see what a man favored by the stars looked like.

Chen Qingyan stood proudly at the doorway, dressed in a crimson robe and adorned with a bright red silk flower on his chest, bowing to the cheering crowd. Beside him, Wang Ying held Yuanbao, while Madam Li, Qingsong, and Qingyun all beamed with joy.

Winning the top title was a once-in-a-lifetime honor. Wang Ying began preparations for a grand banquet but, having little experience hosting such events, went to Madam Liu for advice.

Madam Liu was overjoyed when she heard. Her own son had passed as a second-rank scholar (二甲), and she planned a celebration too—but compared to Chen Qingyan’s victory, hers seemed modest. Delighted, she offered to help organize his banquet first.

She’d handled many such feasts and quickly began calculating. “How many tables are you thinking?”

“I’m not sure,” Wang Ying admitted. “We don’t have many relatives here in the city, but I imagine plenty of guests will come.”

“Then prepare more rather than less,” Madam Liu advised. “Thirty tables, eight seats each—about two hundred and forty guests. Twelve dishes per table—four cold, eight hot, with plenty of meat. That’ll come to roughly two hundred taels of silver.”

Wang Ying nodded. “I’ll trust your judgment. You’re the expert here.”

“I’ll also reserve five tables at Hongyun Pavilion for official guests,” she added. “The prefectural officials will surely attend. Leave it to me—I’ll arrange everything.”

Wang Ying was moved almost to tears by her generosity. Truly, they were blessed by their connection through Qingyun’s marriage.

With everything set, Chen Qingyan began writing invitation cards. They sent them to everyone they knew—the assistant prefect Wang, Magistrate Lin, even Judge Zhao, despite their old grudges.

Invitations also went to Liu Changyi’s relatives, since they were now in-laws. It wouldn’t do to leave them out.

The military wasn’t forgotten either. General Zheng and his officers had helped them many times, as had the shop’s loyal customers and neighboring merchants.

Dozens of invitations were delivered.

When the banquet day arrived, more than four hundred people came—far exceeding expectations.

Thirty tables weren’t enough; Ershun had to rush out to nearby restaurants to order an extra seven or eight. Only then were all the guests accommodated.

Gifts poured in ceaselessly—silver, gold, land deeds, jewelry. According to custom, a portion could be accepted, but excessive gifts were politely returned.

Even merchants they’d never met before came bearing extravagant offerings—mostly to curry favor, hoping that once Chen Qingyan became an official, he would look kindly on them.

Chen Qingyan, uninterested in managing wealth, handed everything over to Wang Ying.

That night, the couple sat together in the Spirit Field, counting the gifts. After half an hour, they tallied the total—over sixteen thousand taels of silver including valuables.

Truly, it was as the saying went: “Within books lies a house of gold.”

Wang Ying hugged the silver boxes and laughed until his cheeks hurt. “We’ll never have to worry about money again!”

Chen Qingyan smiled, eyes warm. “So, did your husband shame you, or make you proud?”

Wang Ying leaned over and kissed him. “Proud doesn’t even begin to cover it!”

Chen Qingyan cupped his nape and drew him into another kiss—deep and breathless.

“When the imperial exams were reinstated,” he murmured against his lips, “I swore I’d earn the top rank, so you’d never want for anything. Today, I’ve kept that promise.”

“I always believed you would,” Wang Ying whispered.

Their lips met again—gentle at first, then hungry. Passion kindled between them like dry tinder catching flame.

With a flick of his hand, Wang Ying dimmed the Spirit Field to night mode. The moon rose high, bathing them in silver light. The air turned heady, tender… and by the end of it, Wang Ying thought, half-laughing, half-gasping, that his waist might truly snap in two before the night was over.