Chapter 327 First Display of Talent

Chapter 327: First Display of Brilliance

"Senior brother? The Eccentric Master Dai Zhong is your senior brother? He is also a disciple of Madam Xiang?" Lord Liu asked, shocked and doubtful.

Everyone knew that Xiang Yun had a few disciples, but she was free-spirited and easygoing by nature, never having held any formal apprenticeship ceremonies. After her eldest disciple married and passed away, no one had heard whether she had any remaining disciples.

Years went by, and Meng Wan burst onto the scene, introducing himself everywhere as Xiang Yun's disciple. Had it not been for Lin Congrong acknowledging him, few would have believed it.

However, over the years, only a handful of people knew about this connection.

It wasn't until the New Year's Day banquet that Meng Wan became famous overnight.

Famous he was, but those who had seen his paintings remained the same small circle as before, so Meng Wan's skill was still a matter of doubt.

Some folks in town even spun conspiracy theories, speculating that Meng Wan was a pawn deliberately pushed forward by scheming powerful officials to intimidate the Tibetan Empire, and that his actual paintings were nothing special—otherwise, why had none of his works circulated?

Now, in the mansion of Count Chengen, these people hadn't had the chance to see Meng Wan's paintings, but they were fortunate enough to witness the swan-song works of a master.

Meng Wan had assumed that everyone in the capital would know that Dai Zhong was Xiang Yun's disciple. To his surprise, this information was rather little-known. No wonder the Count Chengen household had used a forgery of Dai Zhong's work—had they known of the connection between Meng Wan and Dai Zhong, they would surely have chosen a different painting.

But it was too late for regrets now.

Meng Wan unrolled the second painting. "Everyone, please look. Although my senior brother is known as the Eccentric Master, the seal he carved for himself reads 'Dai Tianqi.'"

The crowd looked on with surprise and curiosity. Someone guessed, "Is that his courtesy name?"

Meng Wan smiled with eyes crinkling. "No, that's his original name. Dai Zhong was a name my master gave him later."

Xiang Yun generally couldn't be bothered with her disciples' personal affairs—she only instructed them in painting. Yet, for some reason, she had changed Dai Zhong's name. When she mentioned it to Meng Wan, she only said that the name Tianqi was too grand and lofty, not something his fate could bear.

This was hardly a secret. Dai Zhong had changed his name upon reaching adulthood, and true connoisseurs of his work all knew his original name.

It could only be said that the person who procured paintings for the Count's household wasn't particularly fond of Dai Zhong's work, nor had they ever imagined it would be used in such a manner—and that they would take a big fall because of it.

Given the previous painting, *The Farewell at the Imperial Pavilion*, no one doubted the authenticity of what Meng Wan said. People looked around at each other—some looked embarrassed and silent, while more wore expressions of intrigue, waiting for Old Madam Rong to explain herself.

Old Madam Rong had racked her brains to select two obscure paintings, only to have them land right in Meng Wan's hands. Her face showed disbelief that seemed genuine. "These two paintings were clearly given to me by my eldest daughter-in-law, Sun Shi, on my birthday... Alas, what a curse, what a curse!"

"I only regret troubling Meng Fulang for no reason." Her aged face was ashen and defeated, as if her heart had been wounded deeply. Her gaze at Meng Wan seemed to dart away guiltily.

An old woman who had been above everyone all her life now putting on such a display made her seem pitiable, tugging at heartstrings.

Someone couldn't bear it and urged Meng Wan, "Meng Fulang, Old Madam Rong didn't mean any harm. Since you've suffered no loss, why not just let the matter rest?"

Meng Wan gave a light clap. "What do you mean by that, madam? My husband is merely a third-rank official in the court. Even with the First-rank Noble Lord title His Majesty has graciously bestowed upon me, I wouldn't dare be disrespectful toward an elderly lady like Old Madam Rong in the Count Chengen mansion."

The words sounded humble at first, but on closer reflection, they felt oddly familiar.

Several madams' gazes unconsciously drifted toward Old Madam Rong—she had said something similar just moments ago.

It clicked for them. From the Rong family's accusation that the young male attendant of the Song household had destroyed the paintings, to being wrongly condemned herself, this Meng Fulang had remained as immovable as a mountain throughout, coolly counterattacking.

They had thought him without a clue. Now it was clear—he wasn't without a plan; he had it all figured out and was shrewd.

Those who had crowded in instinctively retreated a step. Those who had spoken up for Old Madam Rong went quiet.

No one liked to oppose someone too clever, and they were merely spectators with respectable family backgrounds—there was no need to stick their necks out for Old Madam Rong out of pity.

Old Madam Rong's flabby face twitched. With no one speaking for her, she had to pick up Meng Wan's thread herself; otherwise, the women who had just rallied around her would soon question the Count's household's breeding and prestige.

"Meng Fulang is a distinguished guest who suffered injustice in my Rong household. Consider this a debt of gratitude owed to you by my family. Should there ever be anything the Rong family can assist with, we will not refuse." She spoke with great righteousness and force, but in truth, it was all empty promises.

Meng Wan was not the type to be dismissed with such vague promises. "Old Madam, your words make this junior uneasy. How about this—forget the debt of gratitude. I've heard that your household possesses one of my master's paintings. I'm willing to pay a handsome price for it. Would the old madam be willing to part with it?"

Old Madam Rong felt a sinking feeling. Her family had fallen on hard times, but they had kept two paintings to keep up appearances, and one of Xiang Yun's works was among them.

But she had already witnessed Meng Wan's sharpness. This young one was deeply scheming—his sudden offer to buy a painting was likely because he had noticed something during his previous visit.

Thinking of her eldest son, a chronic gambler, and her eldest daughter-in-law, who was money-grubbing, Old Madam Rong's vision went black.

Today's affair was humiliating enough—she absolutely could not afford another upheaval!

In her youth, she must have been a beautiful woman, with wide-set eyes and deep creases in her eyelids. But now, the eyes beneath those folds had grown murky.

Old Madam Rong pressed her hand to her forehead. "Very well... very well, I'll send someone..." Before she could finish, her eyelids drooped and she toppled backward.

A burly personal maid caught her. "Old Madam! Old Madam, what's wrong! Someone, quickly—fetch a physician!"

The commotion brought Madam Qi, who had just finished dealing with Sun Shi. She hurried to her mother-in-law's side, then instinctively looked up at Meng Wan at the front, forcing a fawning smile before asking the maid, "What happened to the old madam?"

The maid tried once more to drag Meng Wan into it. "It was Meng Fulang who—"

*Smack!*

Madam Qi withdrew her reddened hand and demanded coldly, "I asked you what happened to the old madam. What are you beating around the bush for?"

Old servants who served the matriarch of a household usually had some clout—even the young masters and misses of the family would address them as "Nanny." The maid by Old Madam Rong's side was stunned by the sudden slap, then quickly covered her cheek and begged forgiveness from the furious Madam Qi. "It is this old servant's fault. The old madam was fine just moments ago, then suddenly fainted. Perhaps... perhaps she had a few too many bites of the braised pork knuckle at noon and it... it couldn't be digested."

Madam Qi saw the crowd gathered around, no one watching the performers desperately entertaining on the stage, and knew this matter was far from simple. But this was not the time to dig deeper—first, she needed to send this jinx away.

"Take the old madam back and summon a physician to check her pulse at once." Madam Qi first arranged for her unconscious mother-in-law, then offered apologetic smiles to the guests, saying that the household could no longer receive visitors today and begging for their understanding.

Understanding? Of course they understood. Who needed a banquet when they'd gorged on gossip? Everyone left thoroughly satisfied.

Before departing, Meng Wan put on a pretense of regret. "Please keep the silver on the table, madam. And it would be best to have the paintings in your household appraised again..."

He spoke euphemistically, but the madams and lords present all understood his meaning—all except Madam Qi, who was completely lost but deeply wary of Meng Wan.

Luo Jining hung back at the end, puzzled. "Forget your senior brother's painting, but where did you get a Wang Qianyue? A final work like that is rare even in princely mansions."

Meng Wan gave a light snort. "Wang Qianyue took monastic vows without hesitation—do you think his wife and children had it easy? That painting was given to me by his grandson."

Luo Jining stepped over the high threshold of the Count Chengen mansion. "It ended up in a pawnshop?"

"No. His grandson is a steward I hired. He gave me the painting as a New Year's gift."

Having suffered much grievance and dirty looks, the young man was nonetheless free-spirited. "He abandoned my father and grandmother back then. This old painting was something my grandmother kept as a memento, but every time she looked at it, she'd cry her eyes out. I heard the Master also appreciates paintings, so I thought I'd give it to you. I hope the Master won't think it too humble."

Those were Wang Qianyue's grandson's exact words, which Meng Wan relayed to Luo Jining.

Luo Jining quietly shot him a thumbs-up, drawing a silent chuckle from Meng Wan.

The two parted at the mansion's gate. Meng Wan watched Luo Jining's carriage drive away, a complicated expression in his eyes—a hint of inner conflict surfaced, then was quickly wiped away.

Chi Yu drove the carriage, and before they even reached home, they encountered Song Tingzhou on horseback. He had likely gotten off work at the office, not found Meng Wan at home, and come to pick him up.

"Where's my husband?" Song Tingzhou asked.

Chi Yu directly pulled back the curtain. "Master, it's the lord." Song Tingzhou saw several young male attendants seated inside, so he didn't dismount. Instead, he pulled Meng Wan, who had dismounted, onto his own horse, and the two of them rode home.

Back home, as usual, he first went to Chang Jinhua's place. A Yan and Tong'er, who had finished school, were also there. A Yan greatly admired his father's wonderful life of attending banquets, sleeping in, and waking up to count his money, and waited eagerly to hear about Meng Wan's experiences at the Earl's residence.

He was no longer a child—Tong'er was younger, yet even more composed.

Meng Wan did not hide anything from the two children. People could be vicious, and he had long begun teaching A Yan how to avoid others' malice and find opportunities to strike back.

"...That Sun Shi was both stupid and wicked. I had experts like Chi Yu following me at all times. If I'd been an ordinary young gentleman without such protection, she would have gotten away with it, wouldn't she? Not only would his reputation be ruined, but he'd be at this villain's mercy for the rest of his life." Meng Wan's tone was filled with undisguised disgust and hatred.

A trick doesn't have to be new to work. Such dirty household schemes were common, which proved they worked.

Song Tingzhou's hand rested on the robe he had just removed, his voice dark and low. "I'm returning to the prefectural office now. Xue Sheng, you're coming with me."

He was a man of action, not even waiting for Meng Wan to finish speaking. He hurried with Xue Sheng toward the stables, mounted his horse, and rode back to the Shuntian Prefectural Office.

"Has Zhang Zhuang's body been recovered?" Song Tingzhou asked Qiao Xingyuan, who had not yet left. The latter was now a magistrate of the sixth rank in Shuntian Prefecture, promoted by Song Tingzhou from Lingnan, and was his trusted confidant.

"Your Honor, it has been recovered. The gambling den's men were arrogant and dumped the body in a mass grave without burial. The coroner has examined it, and the wounds match the confessions of the gambling den's thugs." Seeing Song Tingzhou ready to interrogate Rong Jiang, the eldest master of the Rong family, Qiao Xingyuan sighed inwardly. Tonight would likely mean extra duty.

Song Tingzhou took the documents Qiao Xingyuan handed him and instructed Tao Ba, who was on duty, "Send word to the guards at every city gate. Stop any carriage leaving the city from Count Chengen's residence. Whoever is inside, bring them back to the Shuntian Prefectural Office."

His men were used to his ways by now. Tao Ba asked no unnecessary questions and immediately led men to block the city gates.

Song Tingzhou could wait years for revenge, or he could strike without a moment's delay.

He had Rong Jiang brought up, who had just been imprisoned and had not yet been bailed out by the Rong family, and summoned Zhang Zhuang's sister for a face-to-face confrontation.

Rong Jiang's collusion with the gambling den to lend money at usurious rates was already a serious crime, and Song Tingzhou had caught him red-handed. Now with a death on his hands, a heavy sentence was inevitable.

However, in cases of murder by conspiracy, punishments were categorized differently. Since Song Tingzhou was the one determining the sentence, no one could fault him for choosing heavy or light punishment. There was plenty of room for discretion—just like with Jin Gu's killing of her husband back then.

The setting sun cast fiery clouds across half the sky, magnificent and awe-inspiring. Xue Sheng followed Li Dun, who clutched his chest and hunched his back, silent as a shadow.

Madam Qi must have scared Li Dun. He carried a packet of silver jewelry she'd given him, but he didn't even dare see a doctor, fearing the Song family's retaliation. He wanted to leave the city before the gates closed to lie low.

His mother was a concubine's daughter of the Rong family, married off to a wealthy merchant. To maintain ties with the Earl's residence, she had lavishly gifted the Rong family over the years. Unfortunately, the merchant died young, and their sons were useless, squandering the family fortune after dividing the inheritance.

Now Li Dun and his mother lived in a town not far from the capital, considered local gentry. But living off their savings, who knew how many more years they could sustain it.

Seeing him heading straight for the city gates, Xue Sheng initially planned to seize him and take him to the Shuntian Prefectural Office. But then he saw Li Dun suddenly duck into a narrow alley.

He lightly tapped the wall, vaulted onto the rooftop, and watched Li Dun weave through the alley before knocking on a door.

At this time of day, smoke rose from every chimney as families prepared dinner, and this household was no exception. A young woman with a charming face was carrying firewood to start the stove, while from inside came the intermittent coughing of an elderly person—thick and phlegmy, like old cotton stuck in the throat, unable to be coughed out or swallowed.

Xue Sheng lay on the rooftop, watching as Li Dun knocked, then hid to the side. When the woman opened the door a crack, he shoved his way in, covered her mouth, and whispered threats.

After a moment, the woman nodded reluctantly, tears streaming down her face.

Xue Sheng observed a while longer and realized Li Dun seemed to be planning to flee with the woman. He jumped down from the roof and seized them both.

Since this woman was also connected to Li Dun, he might as well take them both to the Shuntian Prefectural Office.