Chapter Forty-Four: Qing Poetry, the Lady

"So it’s Miss Qing Shi—her beauty rivals the moon and shames the flowers, she stirs sorrow in fish and geese alike, ever more enchanting." Su Yang smiled faintly.

Jin Ping’er, seeing Su Yang no longer respond to her flirtatious glances, felt a twinge of displeasure and jealousy toward Zhang Qing Shi, entirely forgetting that she was already a married woman.

"Young Master Su, you jest," Zhang Qing Shi replied, a blush rising on her fair cheeks, her maiden’s heart fluttering.

"Miss Qing Shi, would you mind lending me your hand for a moment?"

"Ah?" A deeper blush bloomed across Zhang Qing Shi’s delicate face, lending her a more feminine allure. She bit her lip lightly. "Young Master Su, what do you intend to do?"

A woman’s hands and feet were deeply private. For a man to touch them was considered frivolous, punishable by law, and some virtuous women had even taken their own lives after such an offense. The grander the household, the stricter the custom; ordinary folk were more relaxed, as women in farming families needed to work alongside men and cared little for such distinctions. In the households of the elite, young ladies seldom left their rooms, sometimes seeing no man but their father until adulthood, making them ideal candidates for marriage alliances—young, pure, and fresh, highly sought after, especially by older men.

Zhang family customs were strict, yet Zhang Qing Shi obediently extended her hand, though it trembled slightly, her heart pounding with youthful excitement.

[Root Bone Appraisal]

A surge of vital energy probed Zhang Qing Shi’s body, but was quickly repelled by her own, a natural resistance.

"Young Master Su... what are you doing?"

Zhang Qing Shi was no ordinary girl; she was a ninth-rank martial artist. Her brother Zhang Ji had mentioned that she had reached ninth rank in a single day and that the head of the martial hall had personally requested to take her as a disciple, but her interests lay in poetry and literature.

Thus, Su Yang’s attempt to probe her root bone was promptly sensed.

"Do not worry, Miss Qing Shi. I mean no harm," Su Yang assured her. He hadn’t expected that martial artists would detect such probing, a detail not mentioned in the Root Bone Appraisal manual.

"I trust Young Master Su," Zhang Qing Shi replied, and now the vital energy entered her body freely, allowing for a thorough appraisal. If one thought about it, such a probe was an invasion of her entire being, yet Zhang Qing Shi seemed unaware, and the feedback was not limited to root bone alone.

Root Bone Level: Grade A

Truly remarkable—she had reached ninth rank in a single day, and her root bone was extraordinary, Grade A, something Su Yang had never encountered, not even Grade B.

At this moment, Su Yang’s gaze toward Zhang Qing Shi glittered with longing—he wished he could knock her out and carry her home to bear his heirs.

"Miss Qing Shi, will you be free tomorrow?" Su Yang’s excitement made his voice tremble. Wang Chun Xiao, seated beside Liu Wen Xiang, frowned deeply, jealousy surging in her heart at Su Yang’s obvious attraction to Zhang Qing Shi.

She was about to stand, but Liu Wen Xiang pulled her back, whispering, "Don’t act rashly. Our son-in-law has two wives already. What’s wrong with him mingling with other women?"

Su Yang had only told Liu Wen Xiang about their troubles on the road. Compared to the Wang family being targeted, his flirting was far less important. Besides, he already had two wives; any woman he attracted would join the Su family, not the Wang family. Since Su Yang’s arrival, every choice he made proved wise—without him, the Wang family would have been long gone. Liu Wen Xiang worried this might be part of Su Yang’s plan, and if her daughter Chun Xiao interfered, it might ruin everything.

...

"Su, why aren’t you sitting and watching the performance?" At that moment, a discordant voice sounded from the front. Song Gong, eldest son of the Song family, approached, jealousy flickering in his gaze. His features were ordinary, his build unremarkable—so ordinary as to be forgettable. He was eighth-rank, the Song family’s eldest, and half a master of the household.

Without Song Gong, the family’s assets would not be secure. Besides him, there was an eighth-rank steward who had served Song’s father for years. With two eighth-rank warriors, the Song family remained stable, provided they behaved.

"Just chatting with old acquaintances," Su Yang replied mildly, unwilling to quarrel with the Song family now. It was safer to act after nightfall. With Dongmen Qing present, it was unwise to make a move; Su Yang was seventh-rank, and Dongmen Qing a sixth-rank.

"Chatting? I think you’re not interested in opera. Why not do something more entertaining?" Song Gong’s tone turned cold, his gaze contemptuous. He already knew Su Yang was ninth-rank—in fact, he had orchestrated the attempt to destroy the Wang family. Yet, unexpectedly, they survived unharmed. What were those two constables doing? Had they simply missed them?

"What do you mean by entertaining?"

"I hear you’re a martial artist, Su. Why don’t we have a match, just a friendly bout?"

"No, no, Young Master Song," Su Yang replied, "I am a scholar, never fond of martial arts. My breakthrough to ninth rank was pure chance. If it’s poetry and literature you want to compete in, I might challenge you."

He would destroy their household tonight—what use was a fight now?

Poetry and literature? Song Gong frowned. He knew nothing of poetry, having always disliked reading. Hearing someone mention books gave him a headache, especially seeing Zhang Qing Shi gaze at Su Yang with admiration, his anger flared: "Scholars are useless."

Su Yang smiled lightly. "Immortals and Buddhas are uncertain; only my restless voice fills the night. Wind-driven sorrow, fame sullied by muddy threads. Nine out of ten meet with scorn, scholars are useless. Do not let poetry become a curse; spring birds and autumn insects sing their own tune."

"This poem does not claim scholars are useless, but laments the injustice of the world, where learned men have nowhere to employ their talents. Young Master Song, you should read more."

"Young Master Su, your knowledge is vast," Zhang Qing Shi said, her admiration for Su Yang growing, which only fueled Song Gong’s fury and jealousy. What was so special about a ninth-rank? A little poetry, nothing more.

"What use is study nowadays?"

"Only martial strength can protect oneself, one’s family, and one’s women."

"Will reading prevent my fists from killing you?"

"Will reading save you from arrows outside the city, or spears, or trampling horses?"

"Scholars only talk big; only powerful warriors truly protect their families."

"In these chaotic times, what use is study?"

Song Gong sneered, full of disdain for poetry. He failed to realize his words also offended Zhang Qing Shi, worsening her opinion of him.

"My son excels in martial arts—he reached eighth rank at a young age. He may one day reach sixth or even fifth rank. His future knows no bounds."

"Study is useless—if bandits invade your home, what good is telling them you’re a scholar? Recite poetry to them?"

At this, the Song family matriarch stood, supporting her son. "When he reaches fifth rank, the Song family will have a place in Yanggu County."

Zhang Qing Shi had no fondness for such nouveau riche families; their barbs at Su Yang were indirect slights against her, leaving her displeased.

"Madam, do not disparage the scholar’s cap—study never fails a person. The court is filled with honored officials; all are learned men," Su Yang declared, his words brimming with righteous energy.

As his words fell, Zhang Qing Shi’s eyes widened in awe, her lips parted, her admiration for Su Yang boundless. In her eyes, he now shone with brilliance.

"Young Master Su, your talent is exceptional," Dongmen Qing praised, equally impressed.

"Truly the scholar of Yanggu County. With such literary talent, he will surely succeed in the imperial examinations."

Jin Ping’er’s seductive gaze lingered on Su Yang, her peach-blossom eyes filled with longing as she sized him up.

"Hmph, my son Song Gong will be a fifth-rank warrior. Let him pass the imperial exams first—if he survives that long," Song Gong’s mother snorted, full of defiance.

"Su, to hold the hand of an unmarried woman in broad daylight—how frivolous!" Song Gong exclaimed, enraged at Su Yang’s continued grasp of Zhang Qing Shi’s hand and her admiring gaze.

He had noticed earlier but said nothing, thinking Zhang Qing Shi would withdraw her hand after realizing the impropriety. Yet Su Yang held her tightly, showing no intent to release. If this continued, it would ruin her reputation, and Song Gong could not help but speak.

He felt utterly humiliated—a future wife’s hand held by another man, right before his eyes.

"Ah...!" Zhang Qing Shi quickly withdrew her hand, blushing deeper, like the evening glow, her feminine charm enhanced. Her heart raced, recalling Su Yang’s touch, and she felt a surge of sweetness, wishing she could throw herself into his arms and make him hers.

For women, love often stems from admiration—if a man inspires awe in any respect, he can easily win her heart: wealth, talent, physique, martial prowess, music, chess, calligraphy, painting...

Reflecting on it, Zhang Qing Shi’s hand was indeed soft; most importantly, her Grade A root bone was unprecedented, and her future children would surely be outstanding.

This woman—he must marry.

As for the Song family—they must fall.

"Qing Shi, mind your behavior," Zhang’s matriarch approached, displeased. Her daughter had always been reserved and cold, never engaging in such frivolity, not even glancing at men. What had happened today?

Unable to help herself, she glanced at Su Yang, her heart sinking. Had her daughter fallen for this young man? But he was only a son-in-law, his reputation poor, and rumored to have two wives. How could her daughter marry him? Her displeasure deepened.

A good daughter—how could she fall into a pit of fire? She resolved to monitor this closely.

"Mother," Zhang Qing Shi murmured, head lowered, retreating behind her mother, too embarrassed to speak. Zhang Ji, seeing his sister’s demeanor, guessed the truth and whispered, "Sister, have you really taken a liking to Brother Su?"

"Nonsense."

"But Brother Su’s reputation isn’t good. Mother probably won’t agree, though she can’t control you—you’re the pillar of our family. She might complain, but if you reach eighth rank, she’ll have nothing to say. For you, training is simple; just shut yourself in your room for ten days."

...

"Were you just challenging me to a match?" Su Yang asked.

"Do you dare?" Song Gong sneered. "Only those without ability become son-in-law—Su, it seems you lack both skill and courage."

"Then let’s have a match."

"Young Master Dongmen, please act as mediator. You’ll see who wins or loses—no need for a fight to the death," Su Yang said.

"Honored to oblige," Dongmen Qing nodded.

The crowd immediately cleared a space; even the troupe paused, and thirty pairs of eyes fixed on Su Yang and Song Gong.

"Young Master Su, don’t! Song Gong is eighth-rank; how could you be his match? Don’t be reckless," Zhang Qing Shi urged anxiously.

"Son-in-law, don’t fight. It’s getting late; let’s go home. You’re a scholar—why stoop to violence?" Liu Wen Xiang and Wang Xia He grabbed Su Yang’s arms, trying to pull him down.

They knew Su Yang’s eighth-rank strength, but Song Gong was also eighth-rank. After Su Yang’s flirtations with Zhang Qing Shi, Song Gong was now determined to fight him.

No need to risk injury or death for pride.

Dongmen Qing was Song family’s son-in-law and would favor them—Su Yang stood to gain nothing.

"Mother-in-law, rest assured. I have confidence; it will just be a friendly match."

...

In the end, Liu Wen Xiang and Wang Xia He retreated, watching anxiously, along with their maids.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The fight erupted instantly—Song Gong’s eighth-rank strength was formidable, while Su Yang only revealed ninth-rank, so Song Gong quickly gained the upper hand.

Song Gong, feeling superior, planned to humiliate Su Yang before Zhang Qing Shi, then cripple him, ensuring Zhang Qing Shi would lose interest.

That was why Song Gong insisted on a match—not to kill, but to destroy Su Yang’s lineage, seeking opportunities to cripple him without risking defeat.

Boom!

Song Gong landed a heavy punch on Su Yang’s chest, sending him flying and crashing to the ground.

"Useless son-in-law, again!"

He refused to let Su Yang off, charging at him as Zhang Qing Shi and her mother watched in distress.

"Thank you, Young Master Song, for helping me reach eighth rank!" Su Yang climbed to his feet, his vital energy stronger than before, his face filled with joy.