Volume One: Carefree Journey Amidst Mistaken Paper Leaves Chapter Thirty-Seven: Chaos in the Spirit Hall

Aunt Qiong’s fingernails were rather long; if she managed to scratch Gu Qinghan’s face, that flawless, snowy-white beauty would surely be marred. Yang Ning was just about to step forward and intervene when he saw Gu Qinghan slip lightly to one side. Aunt Qiong, lunging with all her might, missed her completely after Gu Qinghan dodged, stumbled forward several steps, and promptly fell to the ground.

Qiyu, who had been kneeling by the memorial tablet, watching coldly, finally stood up and shouted harshly, “Wretch, you dare bully my mother? I’ll kill you!” He glanced around, grabbed a censer from the altar, and hurled it at Gu Qinghan. The boy was strong; the censer whistled through the air. Gu Qinghan’s face paled in fright—the censer was about to strike her when, suddenly, a leg shot up and delivered a beautiful back-kick, striking the censer and sending it flying back.

No one had expected this. Qiyu stood frozen in shock until the censer smashed into his chest. With a cry, he collapsed to the floor, clutching his chest and struggling for breath.

Everyone, including Gu Qinghan, was momentarily stunned. Only then did they see Yang Ning, his leg still raised high, slowly lower it to the floor.

“He…” Lord Sixth opened his mouth, managed only one word, and could not finish.

Yang Ning looked around the room and suddenly grinned foolishly. Only then did the others snap out of their daze.

Yang Ning thought to himself: All of them believe the Young Lord is a simpleton; I can’t appear too clever. It doesn’t hurt to play the fool when needed—a silly grin is harmless.

He understood well enough: though he had no desire to compete for the position of dutiful son, he could tell Gu Qinghan was defending him. If not for her striking beauty, then at least for her willingness to stand up for him, he couldn’t let her be bullied.

Aunt Qiong, who had been sitting on the ground weeping, now scrambled up in alarm when she saw Qiyu knocked down by the censer. She hurried to his side, anxiously asking, “Yu’er, are you hurt? Where does it hurt?”

Old Master Third now rose to his feet, furious. “What behavior is this, what behavior!” he scolded, pointing at Gu Qinghan. “You… do you have no sense of propriety? This is the mourning hall, and you dare brawl here? Gu Qinghan, how impressive you are!”

Gu Qinghan’s eyes were rimmed with red, but she spoke, “Old Master Third, you saw clearly: someone slandered me without proof. Did none of you hear it? I am still a daughter-in-law of the Qi family. To dump such filth on me is to disgrace the family itself. Do you not care?” At this, she could restrain herself no longer, and tears welled up in her eyes.

“Slandered?” Lord Sixth sneered. “A clear conscience fears no crooked shadow. If you’d behaved properly, no one would talk.”

“You…” Gu Qinghan’s phoenix eyes flashed coldly.

Old Master Third pointed at Yang Ning. “And you—striking your own brother, using such a heavy object—imagine if it struck his head! People say you’re a fool, and it’s true. How could you keep vigil like this? Soon the nobles will come to pay respects. If they see you, the Qi family’s reputation will be in ruins. The Jinyi Marquisate is one of the four great houses of Chu; we cannot lose face. I will decide: Yu’er shall keep vigil and wear mourning. I will see to the rest. You two need not interfere.”

The skinny Lord Fifth chimed in, “Exactly! Look at this fool—his father is dead and he hasn’t shed a single tear! Outrageous! How can such a person receive guests?”

Yang Ning paid no heed, but walked slowly to the memorial altar, pointed at Qiyu, then gestured to the side, clearly telling Qiyu to leave.

Qiyu, having caught his breath, got to his feet, eyes brimming with hatred. With a cold laugh, he said, “You should be the one to leave, you idiot. Do you really think you’ll inherit the marquisate?”

Yang Ning raised a hand, fingers spread. No one knew what the fool was up to. But as he pressed down each finger, when only three remained, he suddenly reached out with his other hand, grabbed Qiyu by the collar, and, before Qiyu could react, gave a hard yank. Qiyu stumbled several steps and crashed to the ground.

Aunt Qiong gasped, and everyone else was equally shocked.

“Lawless! Outrageous!” Old Master Third was beside himself with rage. “Qi Ning, what do you think you’re doing?”

Yang Ning thought, So the Young Lord is really named Qi Ning; looks like I’ll need to use this name from now on. He looked at Old Master Third and retorted, “And what do you think I’m doing?”

“Insolent!” Lord Fifth shouted. “How dare you show such disrespect before your elders?”

Yang Ning pointed at Qiyu, then at Gu Qinghan. “Qiyu oversteps his place—why do none of you stop him?”

Old Master Third’s face darkened. “Gu Qinghan is immodest—how am I to defend her?”

“If you show no respect for age, why should I respect you?” Yang Ning’s words were thunderous. “Qiyu defies the Third Lady and you do nothing but make excuses. So I am justified in defying you—this is your own teaching.”

Old Master Third was dumbfounded. Even Gu Qinghan was momentarily stunned. She cried, “Ning’er…”

But Yang Ning raised a hand to silence her, and continued, “Who am I? I am the legitimate eldest son of the Jinyi Marquis.” Gesturing at Qiyu, “And who is he? He’s a concubine’s son. You shout about rules, yet which rule says a concubine’s son outranks the legitimate heir?”

By now, Yang Ning had figured it out: he, the Young Lord, was the legitimate, publicly acknowledged eldest son, while Qiyu was born of Aunt Qiong, a concubine; thus Qiyu was merely a secondary son.

In truth, Yang Ning had no prejudice against legitimate or secondary sons—he wasn’t a man of this era and disliked such hierarchies. He even opposed dividing people into ranks by birth. But seeing these people so arrogant and overbearing, he was thoroughly irritated. He didn’t know how long he could keep this title of Young Lord, but for now, he meant to enjoy it.

If others made him unhappy, he would make them even more miserable.

Lord Fifth’s eyes looked ready to devour him. “Qi Ning, you are utterly lawless, you—”

“And who are you?” Yang Ning glanced at him coolly. “Is ‘lawless’ the only phrase you know? Oh right, you’re Lord Fifth, aren’t you?”

“I am your Fifth Uncle,” Lord Fifth said coldly. “You good-for-nothing, you have no right to speak here.”

Yang Ning smiled. “This is the Jinyi Marquisate. If I can’t speak here, who can?” He looked around; everyone was staring at him with strange, astonished eyes.

He understood well: the Young Lord was known as a simpleton, a fool to all of them. But now, he was speaking with clarity and striking at the heart of the matter—naturally, they were astonished.

Within Gu Qinghan’s alluring eyes, there was also a look of surprise.

“You’re worried I’ll make a laughingstock of the family,” Yang Ning said with a smile. “But if the mourners see a concubine’s son in mourning, what will they think? Will they not laugh that the Jinyi Marquis has no heir?”

He repeated “concubine’s son” again and again. Qiyu’s face was ashen, his fists clenched, his gaze like knives fixed on Yang Ning.

Yang Ning glanced at him and said calmly, “Father is gone; as the saying goes, the eldest brother is like a father. Since I am your elder brother, I am, in a sense, your father. Yet you behave so arrogantly before me—is this the rule of the Jinyi Marquisate?” He turned to Gu Qinghan and asked, “Third Lady, does our household have family law?”

Gu Qinghan, her beautiful eyes full of amazement, had never expected Yang Ning to step forward and say such words. For a moment, she didn’t know how to respond.

“Family law?” Old Master Third sneered. “A yellow-haired brat like you dares speak of family law? I am now the head of the Qi family—the law is what I say it is. Yang Ning, you show no respect for your elders and cause an uproar in the mourning hall. I won’t tolerate such insolence. Bring the family rod!”

Yang Ning was both angry and puzzled. Why did this old man so stubbornly defend the concubine’s son Qiyu? Was it really just because Qi Ning was a fool? There must be more to it.

At Old Master Third’s order, several men rushed forward. Gu Qinghan’s eyes were ice-cold as she said, “Ning’er is the Young Lord—who dares lay a hand on him?”

The men hesitated. The portly Lord Sixth sneered, rushed forward, and reached for Yang Ning’s throat.

Yang Ning dodged lightly, caught Lord Sixth’s arm, and gave it a hard tug. Lord Sixth lost his balance, staggered forward, and crashed into the altar, overturning candlesticks and fruit platters and creating chaos.

The candlestick fell onto a white curtain, immediately igniting it. Cries of alarm rang out. Gu Qinghan, her face drained of color, shouted, “Put out the fire, quickly!”

The flames spread rapidly. People rushed in with water and quickly extinguished the fire, but the mourning hall was in utter disarray.

Yang Ning saw the portly Lord Sixth, having picked himself up, trying to slip away. Yang Ning dashed over, kicked him in the back, and sent him sprawling. Yang Ning immediately sat astride him, tore off his hat, grabbed his hair, and shouted at the top of his lungs, “You—you dare desecrate the mourning hall? I’ll fight you for this! Pay for my hall, pay for my hall…” He raised his fist and began pummeling Lord Sixth on the head.

Lord Sixth howled like a slaughtered pig. The hall was in pandemonium. After the fire broke out, Old Master Third was quickly escorted out. Lord Fifth, who had already reached the door, turned back and saw Yang Ning sitting on Lord Sixth, raining fists down upon him. He shouted, “Qi Ning, you unfilial wretch! You dare strike your uncle?” With righteous indignation, he charged in and aimed a kick at Yang Ning.

Yang Ning was prepared. He reached out, seized Lord Fifth’s ankle, gave a powerful yank, and with a crack, Lord Fifth screamed and crashed to the ground.