Chapter 183: Talking About Justice?

Sss—, Brother Wang, wait a moment.

Han Ping called out to Wang Congwen and stopped in front of a small stall.

"What's the matter?" Wang Congwen turned his head toward him, showing a hint of puzzlement.

He saw Han Ping squat down, his gaze examining a piece of calligraphy, nodding repeatedly in praise: "Fine writing, fine writing!"

"The brushwork is vigorous, the ink strokes flowing and vivid; just looking at it is a delight!"

He looked up at the stall owner—a young man in light‑gray cloth, about twenty‑something, with thick eyebrows, large eyes, a proper face; though his attire was simple, he exuded a palpable righteousness.

"Did you create this piece, brother?" Han Ping asked.

The youth nodded: "Yes."

He pointed to the price on the stall: "Thirty wen for a piece."

Han Ping nodded: "Thirty wen isn't expensive; compared to this calligraphy, the price is even a bit low."

He took out his money pouch: "I'll take them all."

The youth, seeing him intend to buy the whole lot, remained calm, as if selling calligraphy wasn't for livelihood but for connoisseurs.

He said softly: "I am Du Ping."

Han Ping, hearing this, showed a hint of surprise: "But are you the Du of the Du clan from Jingzhao?"

Du Ping nodded and shook his head: "Both and neither."

Han Ping understood, stopped probing, and smiled: "Brother Du, would you honor me by accompanying me to the restaurant? I have some calligraphy questions to ask you."

Du Ping did not refuse, stood up and began packing the stall: "No problem, Brother Han; you and I both share the character 'Ping', so it's fate. You've also looked after my business, which is only proper."

Han Ping, seeing his agreement, broke into a grateful smile: "Thank you, Brother Du! I'll help you."

Under Wang Congwen's watchful eye, the two quickly cleared the stall.

Du Ping rolled up the calligraphy with composure, showing no haste despite the upcoming banquet.

The three walked side by side toward the restaurant, and Wang Congwen occasionally tossed out questions:

"Brother Du, with such brush strength, you must have trained for years, right?"

Du Ping answered while walking, his tone even:

"I have practiced writing since childhood, fifteen years to date. The way of calligraphy values perseverance."

Passing a street corner, a few small beggars huddled in a wall niche, shivering.

Du Ping suddenly stopped, took some silver that Han Ping had just given him, used a pocket knife to cut it carefully, and handed it to the beggars.

By the time they reached the restaurant entrance, the silver had already been distributed.

Wang Congwen's eyes showed curiosity, and he laughed:

"Brother Du, so kind‑hearted?"

Du Ping tucked away his knife and said casually: "I sell calligraphy not for money."

"These are easy earnings for me, but for them..."

He looked at those curled figures in the corner and whispered:

"They may not even live until next spring."

Wang Congwen, hearing this, became solemn and nodded gravely: "Brother Du, truly benevolent."

He thought to himself silently.

"Du Ping is someone to befriend."

Treating street beggars so kindly, if one becomes close friends with him, should any future trouble arise… not to mention offering a helping hand, at least he wouldn't stand by idly.

Of course, it could be a façade; we'll see.

Wang Congwen pondered.

The three entered the restaurant together.

Behind them.

At the corner.

Yu Lin finished a bowl of fish soup, then turned his head toward Zhong Kui and said:

"Another bowl?"

Zhong Kui withdrew his gaze from Wang Congwen and the others, shook his head and said: "No more."

"It's getting late; let's go back and cook a meal."

Although today he hadn't seen clearly whether Wang Congwen was suitable for Zhong Xiao Mei, Zhong Kui could be certain of this:

Wang Congwen is a clever man, one who can read the situation wisely.

In other words, as long as Zhong Kui's status rises, Zhong Xiao Mei marrying him would be a good match.

If Zhong Kui were no longer able… he'd probably divorce his wife and take another.

A perfect match.

Of course, if possible, Zhong Kui thinks the calligraphy‑selling scholar isn't bad either.

Yu Lin? He never considered that possibility; Yu Lin is no ordinary person, not something his sister's fortune could bring down. Being friends is already fine… enough, no rush; marriage is not something to be hurried.

Zhong Kui didn't continue thinking.

"Fine then." Yu Lin nodded, paid the stall owner, and headed back the same way with him.

But just as the two reached the city gate, they were stopped.

"Stop."

A cold voice came from the sedan chair. A corner of the carriage curtain was lifted, revealing a face about twenty‑four or twenty‑five.

The person had slender eyebrows and eyes, an arrogant complexion, and his gaze at Yu Lin and the other was thick with contempt.

Behind him, more than ten yamen officers stood in a line, some holding long staffs, others short rods, each with a fierce glint.

What was especially striking was the Official Messenger standing at the far right—half his face hidden beneath his hat brim, eyes narrowed, his right hand constantly resting on the hilt of his sword.

Both his attire and his bearing were completely different from the surrounding yamen servants, as if he were a martial cultivator.

"Big brother, they beat me!"

A familiar voice came from within the sedan chair.

The boy whom Yu Lin had previously scolded stuck his head out, pointed at Yu Lin and said through clenched teeth, "It's him!"

The man called "big brother" raised his hand and pressed down the boy's finger: "Enough, I understand; just keep watching."

Having said that, he calmly stepped down from the sedan chair, smoothed his brocade robe, and addressed Yu Lin and the other with a thin, insincere smile:

"My surname is Li, and my given name is a single character, Lin."

"I dare not say it elsewhere, but here in Heavy Cloud County," his tone grew cold:

"No one has dared to bully my younger brother yet."

He paced slowly, his gaze sweeping over Yu Lin and Zhong Kui: "Do you two intend to cut off a hand or a foot?"

"Of course," he said, a cruel smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "If both are severed, I will be satisfied with you as well."

Before his words finished, the yamen servants behind him stepped forward in unison, their sticks clanking with a dull thud. Passersby on the street hurried aside, and those watching from a distance dared not approach.

Without waiting for Yu Lin to speak, Zhong Kui stepped forward a pace and said coldly:

"Do you not even ask who first caused the trouble? If it were not for him riding a horse through the street, disregarding the safety of the common folk, and then striking at us."

"Where does this matter come from?"

"Such indiscriminate judgment, yet you indulge and shield. Now you cannot even tell right from wrong, and you resort to private punishment—"

Zhong Kui's voice suddenly rose, shaking the eardrums of everyone present:

"Can such conduct be called justice?!"

Li Lin heard this, was momentarily stunned, then burst into a loud laugh.

He laughed so hard his body rocked forward and backward, tears streaming, as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world.

"Hahaha...... Justice?" He wiped the tears from his eyes, slowly withdrew his smile, and his expression turned cold: "Tell him what justice is."

As soon as the words fell, the group of yamen servants behind him shouted in unison: "What our young master says and does is justice!"

The roar sounded like thunder, shaking the eaves on both sides of the street and causing the accumulated snow to tumble down.

Li Lin nodded in satisfaction, raised his hand and casually pointed at Yu Lin and Zhong Kui: "Take them back and explain justice properly."

"Yes!"

The yamen servants lunged forward like wolves and tigers!