67: conflict

"I heard that paper is only marginally better than coarse paper; it's all just hype!"

Young Master Wei?

Su Ming's gaze swept across the jade pendant hanging from the man's waist, which was engraved with the character “Wei.”

Zhao Rui's face instantly flushed red.

It was one thing for him to look down on villagers, but it was another entirely to be openly mocked as a “country bumpkin” by someone from the town.

He slammed the table and stood up abruptly: “Who are you calling a bumpkin?!”

That sound instantly silenced the entire hall.

Everyone's eyes focused on this corner.

Young Master Wei clearly hadn't expected anyone to dare talk back to him in public. He paused, then curled his lips into a cold, mocking smile.

"Oh, look, someone's eager to admit it?" He scrutinized Zhao Rui from head to toe, his gaze like that of someone looking at a barking mongrel. "What, did I hit a nerve?"

"You!" Zhao Rui trembled with rage, pointing at the other man, yet unable to form a coherent sentence.

Su Ming immediately rose, grabbed Zhao Rui's shoulder, and forcibly pushed him back into his seat.

He cupped his hands toward Young Master Wei, neither servile nor arrogant: "Young Master, my friend is young and has a bit of a temper. Please don't take offense."

As he spoke, he quietly circulated the Breath Concealment Art, lowering his presence to a minimum, as if he were just an insignificant shadow.

Young Master Wei's gaze shifted from the furious Zhao Rui to the calm face of Su Ming.

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

"At least you know how to speak properly." His eyes circled Su Ming, finally resting on his faded coarse cloth gown. The contempt in his eyes deepened.

Humiliation.

Naked humiliation.

Zhao Rui's eyes instantly turned red, looking ready to pounce and fight to the death.

Su Ming increased the pressure on his hand, his knuckles turning slightly white.

"Master, what should we do?" Su Ming urgently asked in his mind.

"Endure it!" Lin Yu's voice was as cold as ice. "He is deliberately trying to provoke you! If you fight here, you will definitely be the ones who suffer! Who is he? Obviously someone with influence in town! Who are you? Two rootless scholars from outside! Swallow your pride and leave when you get the chance!"

Su Ming took a deep breath, his face remaining calm.

"The Young Master is right to lecture us. We will leave now and not disturb the Young Master's enjoyment."

Saying this, he pulled out a few dozen coins from his sleeve, placed them on the table, and pulled Zhao Rui up, ready to leave.

"Stop!" Young Master Wei's voice came from behind them. "Did I tell you that you could leave?"

Young Master Wei's voice was like a cold whip cracking in the stagnant air.

Su Ming stopped, and Zhao Rui, whose arm he was gripping, stood stiffly, breathing heavily, his eyes bloodshot.

The eyes of everyone in Tianxiang Lou gathered in this corner—those watching the show, those gloating, and those indifferent—weaving an invisible net.

Young Master Wei unhurriedly picked up his teacup, blew away the foam, and, with lowered eyelids, did not look at them.

"You talk back to me and think you can just walk away? Since when do country folk get to come and go as they please in Qingshi Town?" His voice wasn't loud, but every word was sharp. "Come over here, kowtow, and apologize. If I'm in a good mood, maybe I'll let you off."

Zhao Rui's fingernails dug into his palm. Kowtow? His father was the Village Head, and he strutted around Su Family Village. When had he ever suffered such humiliation?

Su Ming's grip on his arm tightened further. He could feel Zhao Rui's body trembling—not from fear, but from anger and humiliation burning away his reason.

"Hold it in! Disciple! Impatience spoils great plans! We have no choice but to swallow this loss now!" Lin Yu's voice was urgent.

Just as Su Ming was rapidly weighing whether to completely break ties or temporarily submit, a clear and gentle voice sounded from the stairwell.

"Brother Wei, quite the temper you have. Who are you taking issue with?"

Everyone looked over, only to see Zhou Yulin descending the stairs, clad in a moon-white long gown, his face bearing his usual, slightly distant, gentle smile. He was followed by a young page.

When Young Master Wei saw Zhou Yulin, the arrogance on his face lessened slightly, but his tone was still not polite: "So it's Brother Yu Lin. Nothing much, just teaching two unruly country lads a lesson, lest they dirty the premises of Tianxiang Lou."

Zhou Yulin's gaze swept over Su Ming and Zhao Rui, pausing on Su Ming's face for a moment with apparent surprise. He then looked at Young Master Wei and smiled: "Brother Wei, I think you might be mistaken. This Zhao Rui is a relative on my second uncle's side; technically, he should call me older cousin."

As his voice fell, a few faint gasps echoed through the hall.

Young Master Wei's expression changed slightly. A Zhou Family relative? Although he heard they were just poor relatives, if you hit a dog, you still have to consider the owner's face.

Zhou Yulin didn't wait for his reaction but looked at Su Ming, his tone becoming more serious: "As for this Brother Su Ming, he helped me greatly some time ago and offered me considerable insight into scholarship. He is a friend of Zhou Yulin."

He enunciated the word "friend" clearly.

Young Master Wei completely lost face. Zhou Yulin had personally intervened, clarifying that one was a relative and the other a “friend.” The weight of the situation was entirely different now. He wouldn't risk clashing with the Zhou Family's direct descendant just to satisfy a moment of verbal spite.

He gave two dry laughs and seized the opportunity to back down: "Oh? So they are Brother Zhou's relatives and friends? Then this is truly a case of the Dragon King's temple being flooded by its own waters. Since Brother Zhou has spoken, I'll let it go." He waved his hand dismissively, as if swatting flies. "You may leave."

His attitude was still dismissive, but he had finally cleared the way.

Zhao Rui was being pulled by Su Ming, nearly dragging on the floor.

Su Ming formally cupped his hands toward Zhou Yulin: "Thank you, Brother Zhou, for helping us out."

Zhou Yulin nodded slightly, his smile faint: "It was nothing. If Brother Su has free time, you are welcome to visit my home."

Su Ming thanked him again, said no more, and quickly left Tianxiang Lou, pulling the dazed Zhao Rui with him.

It wasn't until they walked out of the bustling street and merged into the noisy crowds of West City that Zhao Rui violently shook off Su Ming's hand. His face alternated between green and pale, and after holding it in for a long time, he spat fiercely.

"Damn it! What a piece of trash! Just relying on his family's filthy money!"

Su Ming remained silent, walking quietly. The sunlight shone on him, but it couldn't dispel the icy feeling of humiliation. Power. In this world, without power, even eating a quiet meal was a luxury.

"You've said your thanks, and the pleasantries are over. Disciple, it's time to think about serious matters." Lin Yu's voice broke the silence, carrying a cold, harsh sense of reality.

"Zhou Yulin stepped forward today because three parts were due to that thin thread of kinship, and seven parts were because of your 'help.'"

Su Ming acknowledged this with a hum in his mind.

"That scoundrel surnamed Wei, although foul-mouthed, was right about one thing—your paper is now a piece of fat meat, and its scent has already wafted out." Lin Yu's voice became extremely serious.

"That fool Village Head, expanding the Workshop? Hiring people? He's afraid Su Family Village won't die fast enough! Now, it's probably not just the County Yamen's Secretary; anyone with connections in Qingshi Town has their eyes fixed on Su Family Village.