Chapter 345 Guyang County Charity School

Chapter 345: Charity School in Guyang County

The next day, the county court of Guyang County delivered its verdict, just as Meng Wan had predicted. Cousin Chang was sentenced to death by hanging for manslaughter in a brawl, while his son was sentenced to one hundred strokes of the rod and banishment to a place three thousand li away.

There had always been a saying among the common folk that "one hundred strokes means certain death," and even if one survived by sheer luck, they would be left permanently crippled.

As they exited the county courthouse gates, Yu Geer's sister-in-law immediately collapsed to the ground, wailing and sobbing hysterically. She was still young, with her second child still in swaddling clothes. If Yu Geer's elder brother were to die, she would become a widow at such a young age. How would she endure the rest of her life? The thought alone was utterly despairing.

Yu Geer helped her up while feeling at a loss himself. With both his father and brother convicted, and his mother missing, he didn't know how he would survive, let alone marry.

"Let's go home first. Crying and wailing at the courthouse door is unseemly. The verdict has been passed and will be submitted to the Ministry of Justice shortly." Meng Wan's eyes were cold. They should have thought of the consequences before acting. The Chang family's misfortune wasn't the fault of a single person—even if nothing had happened this time, something would have happened eventually.

They were relatives after all, so Meng Wan accompanied them back to the Chang residence and stayed for a couple of days to look after things.

As they turned a corner on the street, they ran directly into the family of the man Cousin Chang had accidentally killed. When enemies meet, their eyes blaze with hatred, but since the incident had happened some time ago, no one was blinded by hatred enough to cause a scene at the courthouse door.

They just shot each other venomous looks. Meng Wan turned his head thoughtfully.

Why was that guy staring at him so much?

"Husband, that's the young man who tried to sell us sour plum soup yesterday," Chi Yu whispered in his ear.

Meng Wan nodded. That young man was indeed from the opposing family—the deceased must have been his husband's father. His husband's mother and husband both wore expressions of satisfaction after hearing Magistrate Ding's verdict. However, his husband looked like a sanctimonious hypocrite, dressed in the blue scholar's robes of a xiucai. He wore a look of indignation at first, but his eyes kept unconsciously drifting toward Meng Wan.

Chi Yu was very attuned to such glances. Previously, when he had followed Song Tingzhou, his days were spent fighting and catching criminals. But ever since he'd been at Meng Wan's side, things had become livelier—not only did they catch criminals, but they also had to guard against scoundrels with ill intentions toward his master's husband!

Chi Yu had now learned this idiom—it was the first one he had ever picked up.

"What're you staring at!" Chi Yu barked coldly.

His shout made everyone turn to look at the scholar. He had just barely torn his gaze away from Meng Wan's exquisite, captivating face, and everyone had seen it. The scene was pretty awkward.

Yang Bao'er looked embarrassed. "Husband, let's help Mother-in-law home first."

Meng Wan's attention was caught by his voice, and he turned to look. Because of the hot weather, a fine sheen of sweat had formed on his nose.

The scholar swallowed hard and replied, "Oh? Alright, let's go home. Bao'er, you help Mother along first. I'll catch up with you in a moment."

Yang Bao'er, standing right in front of Meng Wan, felt increasingly humiliated and angry at his husband's behavior. His voice turned sharp. "Husband!"

His husband's tone turned impatient. "Didn't I tell you to go ahead without me?!"

Meng Wan thought the name "Bao'er" sounded familiar, but whether they left or not, he and his party needed to be on their way. It was too hot to stay outside even a moment longer.

Chi Yu positioned himself behind Meng Wan, shielding the group as they walked, while glaring viciously back at that lecherous guy who kept staring after them.

He was taller than most men, and his skin had darkened recently, making him look like someone not to mess with. At any rate, the bookish scholar, Yang Bao'er's husband, felt a flicker of fear and didn't dare come any closer.

Yang Bao'er, in the sweltering heat, supported his mother-in-law with a servant boy on each side. Looking back to see his husband's crestfallen face, he nearly cried from frustration but couldn't vent in front of his mother-in-law. Once they returned home, he threw a massive fit in their bedroom, and his husband couldn't hold back harsh words either.

"You're the one who insisted on marrying me in the first place. Now you're this jealous? Can't I even look at someone else?"

Yang Bao'er pressed his hand to his chest in anger, sobbing and cursing, "The way you charmed me back then, and now you're saying this? You already took a concubine after passing the xiucai exam, and now you're ogling someone else's husband. Do you even know who he is!"

That young man, on the cusp of adulthood, had once walked down that same street in the morning, tightly holding his beloved's hand. Yang Bao'er had hidden in an alley back then, watching their backs as they walked away, his heart filled with bitterness and envy.

That stunning face was so out of place in this small county town that he could never forget it in his lifetime.

So this was the kind of stunning person Song Tingzhou had married?

Then surely he'd gotten over his resentment of Yang Bao'er long ago, right?

Yang Bao'er's emotions were complicated. He wasn't exactly regretful back then—he had never spent much time with Song Tingzhou anyway. The man wasn't as smooth-talking as his cousin, and he was rather dull. But knowing that Song Tingzhou had married such a beautiful husband bothered him for no reason.

Two years ago, when he returned to his hometown, he heard that Song Tingzhou had become a high-ranking official. Whenever the elders in his family brought up that topic, their words were laced with envy.

His parents said he was unlucky, that he wasn't destined to be an official's spouse. A mere year or two of difference had let someone else steal that good fortune. Every time they mentioned it, they'd clutch their chests in remorse, even going so far as to avoid the Song family at the market.

Yang Bao'er said nothing. In truth, he had married quite well—living in the county town, attended by a servant boy, with a husband who was a scholar, refined and courteous, and often gave him gifts.

But people can't help comparing. Once you start, you can't stop thinking about "what ifs" and "back thens," and once those thoughts start, they spiral.

—

Meng Wan was at the Chang residence comforting the family. The room was a bit cooler than outside. He gulped down a cup of sour plum soup that Chi Yu had brought back and gently fanned himself with his folding fan. "What's done is done. Crying won't help. You'd be better off thinking about what to do next."

Yu Geer's sister-in-law sat silently in a chair, her swollen, red-rimmed eyes fixed on her two children. "I'll manage however I can, but the children..."

"You're still young, with plenty of years ahead of you. If you ever want to remarry, no one will blame you." Meng Wan voiced the words she couldn't bring herself to say.

Yu Geer stared blankly at his silent sister-in-law. If she remarried, what would happen to him?

Since they were relatives of Chang Jinhua, Meng Wan wouldn't abandon them. "It's too early to talk about all this now. Once the Ministry of Justice confirms the sentence, the execution won't happen until after autumn. How you live your life from here is up to you. No one will stop you from remarrying, and if you choose not to, I'll have someone look after you. No one will dare bully a widow and orphans."

After comforting them, Meng Wan wanted to return to the inn to rest. A distraught Yu Geer stood up to see him off. "Cousin-in-law..."

Ugh, what a hassle.

Without turning back, Meng Wan said, "Your aunt won't abandon you. In a few days, I'll be returning to the Song residence. Come stay with us for a while."

Yu Geer hadn't shamelessly insisted on staying in the capital to find a husband back then, so Meng Wan had a decent impression of him. With the rest of the Chang family in trouble, leaving Yu Geer—an unmarried young man—alone was rather pitiful. Arranging something for him wouldn't be out of the question.

That was Meng Wan's logic: what he gave willingly, he gave; but what others tried to force from him, he would never concede.

He took a short nap at the inn. The heat made Meng Wan lose his appetite, but as the sun began to set, Zhifan bought some steamed buns.

Meng Wan ate one to settle his stomach. Seeing that the sun was dipping westward and the heat wasn't as intense as at noon, he took Chi Yu and Zhifan to the charity school in Guyang County.

The little beggar's words had been alarming. Meng Wan suspected something was off about the Guyang County charity school, so he didn't reveal his identity. Instead, he bought two bolts of coarse cloth for Chi Yu to carry, pretending they were simply kind-hearted donors making a contribution.

"Thank you so much for your generous donation, husband. Won't you come in and sit for a while?"

The steward of the Guyang County charity school was also the teacher who taught there—a man in his forties. Word had it that his family had once produced an official, but after a crime led to their property being confiscated, he had fallen on hard times and settled in Guyang County.

From their brief interaction, Meng Wan could tell he was indeed a refined and courteous man. Every gesture was deliberate and proper, suggesting his family had been high-ranking officials before their downfall. In just this short exchange, there wasn't a single flaw to find in his conduct, and he spoke of the school's children with genuine tenderness.

"The charity school only has so much space. There are many children we simply can't accept anymore. We're doing our best, but we can only take in children with all their limbs intact and raise them first."

See—that explained what the little beggar had said earlier. The man was smooth and tactful.

"I won't come in to sit. It's getting late, and we're just passing through the county. We heard about this place and thought we'd stop by. We'll be on our way now." Meng Wan smiled outwardly, but inwardly his suspicion grew. Huang Zheng had too many business interests elsewhere to possibly oversee the charity schools. Five charity schools couldn't possibly run without a hitch—there were bound to be oversights. People like Widow Dai and Yingniang at the Changping Prefecture charity school, who panicked in a crisis, were the ones who seemed normal.

Hearing this, the steward's smile became more genuine. "Then let me see you out."

Meng Wan took two steps and said politely, "No need to see us off. Please, stay."

The three of them walked out. Once they rounded the corner, Meng Wan immediately instructed Chi Yu, "Go back and take a look. Don't tip them off."

"Yes, husband." Chi Yu replied crisply and departed swiftly.

It was too hot out on the street. Meng Wan fanned himself and led Zhifan to a seat at a herbal tea stall. He hadn't eaten much at noon, and though he was hungry now, he didn't feel like a proper meal. He ordered a plate of stir-fried peanuts and a plate of watermelon—a strange way to fill his stomach.

The scholar Yang Bao'er had married glanced around, noticing that the "burly man" beside Meng Wan was absent. He perked up and acted like he was just passing by. "Oh, aren't you the relative of the Chang family?"

Meng Wan rolled his eyes, turned away, and went back to his watermelon.

When Meng Wan didn't answer, the scholar felt awkward. Fortunately, the stall owner recognized him and called out, "Scholar Han, would you care to sit and have some tea?"

Scholar Han secretly rejoiced and then, making a show of sitting down, said, "Then bring a pot. And put that young master's watermelon on my tab as well."

The instant he said that, Meng Wan tossed half a piece of silver to the stall owner. "Another plate of watermelon."

Though Zhifan was steadier than Zhimao, he was still just a teenager and couldn't keep his thoughts off his face. A mocking look crossed it.

Who was this guy trying to impress, acting like a big shot in front of their master? Like anyone cared about his stupid plate of watermelon?

Zhifan deliberately said, "Master, didn't you mention wanting to buy some fine furs? I heard there's a hunter on the east side of the market who's got a stash of good stuff from the winter—including silver and bright red wolf and fox pelts, perfect, not a mark on them. Want to go grab a few?"

Meng Wan chuckled lightly and indulged him. "Sure, we'll take a cartload home on the way out."

The stall owner overheard and clicked his tongue to himself. Even an ordinary yellow fox pelt cost three or four taels of silver apiece, and this young master was talking about buying a whole cartload—wasn't that just bragging?

Scholar Han's face stiffened, his ears turning red. Whatever was going through his head, he still had the nerve to sidle up to Meng Wan's table. "I know you're a distant relative of the Chang family, young master. You won't be blamed for my father's mess."

Back then, people were more reserved. Though Meng Wan's face drew attention, he never frequented disreputable places, so few people would be bold enough to bother him. Unfortunately, this Scholar Han was one such exception.

Meng Wan finished the watermelon in his hand and slowly wiped his hands with a handkerchief. "Scholar Han?"

When Meng Wan actually answered him, Scholar Han's eyes lit up, and he hastily replied, "That's me."

Meng Wan tapped the hairpin on his head and said bluntly, "Are you blind?"

The easiest way to tell if a young man or woman was married was by their hairstyle. Meng Wan had simply coiled his hair into a plain topknot, with a bit trailing down from the crown, held in place by a white jade hairpin carved with clouds. It looked elegant and lovely.

Scholar Han was first stunned by the rebuke, then captivated by his loose, airy hair. In the past, when storybooks wrote that someone was beautiful down to the very strands of their hair, he'd assumed it was exaggeration. But seeing someone like Meng Wan, he realized it wasn't.

Though he'd been scolded, he didn't feel angry at all—instead, his heart was stirred with longing. Scholar Han thought to himself, if he could just get this beauty to look at him once, he'd divorce his wife and remarry without a second thought, even if everyone scorned him.

Meng Wan's expression darkened. This Han guy—was he blind or deaf? Couldn't he understand plain talk?

If Chi Yu were here, this guy would've been thrown out of the tea stall by now.

"Zhifan, we're leaving." Meng Wan said, his face grim, and anyone could tell he was in a bad mood.

But Scholar Han rose to follow, shouting after him without a care, "Young master, wait!"

Meng Wan let out a slow breath, then suddenly smiled. "I'm heading to the charity school to donate. Why is Scholar Han following me? Don't tell me you're going to do a good deed too?"

"Charity school? Ah, yes, I should go see the children too." Scholar Han only wanted to stay close to Meng Wan, to find a chance to get near him. When Meng Wan mentioned the charity school, he jumped at the chance to agree.

The tea stall was just around the corner from the charity school. Meng Wan walked ahead, his eyes icy, giving off a chill.

Zhifan went and called the steward out again. The man kept a respectful look, but his eyes clearly showed impatience—until Meng Wan said why he'd come, and then he broke into a smile again.

"You want to donate silver, young master? Ah, what a great thing to do! How much were you thinking of giving?"

Meng Wan glanced sideways at Scholar Han, who had followed him, with a hint of mockery. "I'll donate fifty taels. Scholar Han here is a proper scholar with a degree—surely he'll give more than I do."

The steward was thrilled. "How generous, young master! Scholar Han is truly the most accomplished scholar in our county—so charitable and kind to everyone!"

Fifty taels?!

Scholar Han was stunned, but with Meng Wan watching him like that, how could he say he didn't have it? Gritting his teeth, he actually went home to get the silver.

By the time he got back with the money, Meng Wan had already been shown into the inner room.

Chi Yu climbed back over the back wall, landing and meeting Meng Wan's gaze as he sat upright in the main hall.

Meng Wan motioned for him to just come down, so Chi Yu jumped down from the wall right in front of everyone. "Master."

"You—when did you get in here?!" The steward's finger shook as he pointed at Chi Yu, then he whipped around to face Meng Wan. "What's the meaning of this, young master?"

Meng Wan sat in his chair, his whole demeanor changing abruptly. "What do I mean? Manager Zhang, do you really think this charity school belongs to you?"