Chapter 18: With Money, One Can Do As One Pleases

Listening to the innkeeper’s words, the three Scholars blushed, looking both ashamed and confused.

Meanwhile, many of the onlookers nearby seemed to know the background of these three Scholars and whispered among themselves: “Originally, there were not three of them but four. They appeared to be Xiucai from Daming Prefecture who came to take the Provincial Examination. Unexpectedly, one of them fell seriously ill. The four were fellow townsmen—poor Scholars with mediocre studies, unlikely to pass the exam. To treat the illness, they sought doctors everywhere, probably exhausting their travel funds long ago. Now they owed the inn so much silver. The inn’s owner was still a decent person, allowing them to keep a tab. But having a severely ill person staying in the inn was not ideal—other guests might find it unlucky. It was a last resort. Yet it was pitiful for these three Xiucai, dragging along their gravely ill schoolmate with empty pockets. The Provincial Examination was still almost half a month away, and they had nowhere to go.”

Many people could not help but sigh with sympathy.

Fang Jifan finally understood: four Xiucai from the same hometown came to the Capital together for the exam. Unexpectedly, one fell ill, and the other three Scholars spent all their money on his treatment. Now the sick person showed no signs of improvement, likely unable to afford further medical care. Meanwhile, the inn could no longer bear it and had to evict them.

Fang Jifan felt a warmth in his heart. These three Xiucai were quite loyal. If not for their friend, how could they have fallen into such dire straits?

Such people were rare in his own world.

Wasn’t there a saying: Fellow townsmen meet, and one gets tricked until tears flow.

He instinctively tugged at his sleeve, thinking it was just a matter of some silver. Helping them out could get them through this difficulty.

But as soon as this thought popped into Fang Jifan’s head, he heard Deng Jian snickering beside him.

Fang Jifan glanced sideways and saw Deng Jian looking at him fawningly, grinning as he said, “Young Lord, you’re killing me with laughter.”

Fang Jifan truly felt like cursing Deng Jian’s ancestors eighteen generations. Did this bastard have no sense of public morality? Had his conscience been eaten by dogs?

But then he remembered: he was Fang Jifan, the good-for-nothing.

Showing sympathy now—wouldn’t that be a relapse of his Brain Illness?

So Fang Jifan quickly tucked away the silver he was about to take out and then grinned, saying, “Three foolish Xiucai.”

Then, fanning himself leisurely with the Xiangfei Bamboo Fan, he showed no sympathy on his face.

This exchange drew many angry glares from the onlookers.

On the other side, there seemed to be another Scholar watching the commotion. This Scholar also wore a Confucian Robe and Silk Scarf, but clearly, his clothes were much more expensive.

He narrowed his eyes into slits, sharing a sense of mutual understanding with Fang Jifan, and chimed in, “Yes, this Young Lord is right. Boren, Zichuan, and Yuanzhi—are you not foolish? Wang Zheng is clearly beyond saving, yet you insist on treating him. You even say that since the four of you came to the Capital together, you must return together. Now, with the Provincial Examination approaching, your studies have always been mediocre, and you barely made it as Xiucai. Shouldn’t you seize this chance to focus on studying? Why bother with Wang Zheng? We Scholars, seeking an Imperial Examination Degree is our top priority; everything else is insignificant.”

The three Scholars just kept their heads down and remained silent.

The elegantly dressed Scholar then added coldly, “Don’t you understand the principle that a slow sparrow should make an early start? Not only are your studies lacking, but you also fail to concentrate on them. Even I, who topped the Academy Examination in Daming Prefecture and am certain to pass this Provincial Examination, still burn the midnight oil every day. Stop fussing over Wang Zheng. Follow my example—focus your mind and aim for an Imperial Examination Degree.”

One of the Scholars immediately looked furious and said, “How can Brother Jianren say such things? Wang Zheng is our fellow townsman and schoolmate. Now that he is seriously ill, how can we abandon him? We study to understand principles. Not to mention the Sage’s teachings on righteousness and virtue—how can we stand by and watch him die?”

The elegantly dressed Scholar seemed angered by this retort. He immediately stiffened his face, sneered, and said coldly, “Fine, fine. You are the Sages, and I am the villain. When the time comes, I will become a Provincial Graduate, while you remain Xiucai for life, clinging to that consumptive Wang Zheng. Farewell.”

He glared at the three Scholars, then turned and strode away angrily.

Fang Jifan felt contempt for the one called ‘Jianren’ but admired the three Xiucai for still refusing to abandon their friend. He remained expressionless, then suddenly burst out laughing, clapping his hands as he said, “Interesting, truly interesting.”

This remark provoked even more public anger.

It seemed as if countless murderous eyes were shooting toward Fang Jifan.

Deng Jian stood by, covering his mouth to stifle a giggle. He knew very well that, given the Young Lord’s temperament, something was bound to happen today.

The Young Lord was the Young Lord. Since recovering from his illness, he had been acting so naturally—everything about him was pleasant. It was better when he wasn’t having an episode.

Fang Jifan closed his fan and looked at the three Scholars with disdain, pointing the fan ribs at them: “Three paupers—pretending to be righteous without any money. What I despise most are you poor, pathetic Xiucai. Kicking you out is a relief—most satisfying.”

The three Scholars, already mocked by one schoolmate and now evicted, were extremely anxious. With Wang Zheng’s condition worsening, they feared the worst if they couldn’t find a good doctor soon. They were also worried about the Provincial Examination. Now, with Fang Jifan adding insult to injury, they could not hide their anger.

One of the Scholars stepped forward and bowed leisurely to Fang Jifan: “This student has never offended you, Young Lord. Please watch your words.”

Onlookers pointed at Fang Jifan, seemingly despising his character.

But Fang Jifan stood tall and proud, not ashamed but rather pleased with himself. This was especially infuriating with Deng Jian, his lackey, grinning slyly behind him.

Fang Jifan spun the Xiangfei Bamboo Fan in his palm, narrowing his eyes: “This Young Lord has never known what it means to watch his words. I intend to insult you—what can you do about it?”

Hearing this, Deng Jian nearly jumped for joy, mentally giving Fang Jifan a thumbs-up.

The three Scholars looked at each other, furious. The one who had spoken earlier said, “Such vicious words disgrace refinement. Young Lord… you… you are disgracing refinement.”

Fang Jifan laughed heartily, crossing his arms and acting provocatively as if daring them to hit him: “So what if I disgrace refinement? Not only will I insult you with words, but I will also make you kneel at my feet and call me ‘Master’.”

Master…

The three Scholars found it ridiculous.

But the next moment, Fang Jifan took two silver ingots from his sleeve, dangled them before their eyes, and said, “Well? Will you accept the insult? If yes, this silver is yours.”

“You…” The Scholar flushed red with anger and retorted, “We are upright Scholars and will not accept food given contemptuously.”

Fang Jifan laughed on the surface but sighed inwardly. They really were three foolish Xiucai. He was trying to help them, yet they clung to this pride about not accepting “contemptuous food.”

The self-esteem of these pedantic Scholars was truly formidable.

Deng Jian stood by, beaming with delight. He couldn’t help but admire the Young Lord. The Young Lord always had a way—thinking of using silver to insult these poor Scholars. Ha ha… He secretly rejoiced, but watching the two silver ingots in Fang Jifan’s hand, he also felt a pang of heartache. The Young Lord had just sold some Ebony, and now… he was about to toss away two silver ingots just like that. Two silver ingots—enough to buy two delicate young maids.

Deng Jian was deeply distressed. The Young Lord was such a good-for-nothing!