Chapter Sixty: Pride in Diligence and Courage

Xu Wenshan showed not the slightest regard for Xu Jing’s feelings, mercilessly tearing open her wounds.

“You were humiliated, but there are a thousand ways you could have returned the humiliation. That Song San is, at best, a petty scoundrel—no more than a flea. He’s disgusting, but he can’t truly harm you. Most people only find fleas repulsive, but you, you’re angry at a flea.”

“Why are you angry at a flea? It’s not really the insult itself that shames you, but rather that someone so far beneath you—a mere servant—dared to offend you. What truly unsettled you was realizing that your status no longer shields you. If this servant goes unpunished, then your status will continue to mean nothing. You’re not defending your personal dignity; you’re defending the dignity of your class.”

“I imagine you must have realized long ago that men hold higher status than women in this world. That’s why you disguised yourself as a man, thinking you could escape persecution that way. But cross-dressing doesn’t change your predicament. When you were bullied, your father’s solution was to marry you off. You thought pretending to be a man was resistance, but in truth, you were just running away.”

“And now you’re tasting the fruits of your evasion: all your efforts, in your father’s eyes and in the eyes of others, are worth nothing.”

As he spoke, Xu Jing’s face turned from pale to purple. Xu Wenshan’s words struck like a flurry of blows, leaving her breathless. In her heart, there was not just anger, but also a sour ache, as if a whole jar of vinegar had spilled inside her.

Clenching her fists, Xu Jing said, “It’s easy for you to say. You’re not me—you have no idea how hard I’ve struggled! Those men are both dull and cowardly, yet in a year’s time, I’ll have to marry one of them! Marry a stranger and devote my entire life to him, endure his beatings and scoldings, follow him wherever he goes, live at the mercy of his moods. If you were a woman, could you still criticize me so calmly?!”

She continued, “Yes, you’re a man too. You enjoy your privileges without ever understanding how hard it is for women. One day, you’ll smugly marry a woman, possess her, control her. You can never know a woman’s suffering…”

“I truly can’t see things from a woman’s perspective,” Xu Wenshan replied, “but are you seeing things from a man’s perspective? Let me ask you a question: Why don’t you work?”

“What?” Xu Jing looked up, finding his words absurd.

“Why don’t you work?” Xu Wenshan repeated. “That servant, your father, those men you look down on—they all work, or will have to sooner or later.”

“My own father is a major landowner, but during the busy farming seasons, he works the fields too. The truth is, as long as people need to eat, someone must work. If you don’t, it means someone else is shouldering your share. Only labor creates value, only labor makes a person unique.”

“By my calculations, you consume about six taels of rice, one egg, and one tael of meat per day, not counting vegetables. Just that much requires a farmer to work half a day. The reason you can be ordered around so easily isn’t that you’re a woman, but that you don’t work… Of course, the fact that your womanhood keeps you from working is also part of it.”

Xu Jing found Xu Wenshan incomprehensible. Was this really the person she’d once thought of night and day?

Labor. He actually wants me to do labor?

She felt foolish for ever having been fond of Xu Wenshan.

With a strange expression, Xu Jing said, “If even women go to work, what will you men do?”

Xu Wenshan sighed. “You see, you still don’t understand. You think men are supposed to work—this idea was instilled in you by men, to strip you of your right to labor…”

Xu Jing replied coldly, “My mother taught me that from childhood.”

“It doesn’t matter who told you,” said Xu Wenshan. “It’s pointless… You’re a bird in a cage; you’ll never understand. Where I come from, there is a strong-willed girl who bravely took the work I offered. Now, she’s the family’s best earner. Even her father can’t bear to marry her off, and there are countless suitors hoping to marry into her family. She’s not as pretty as you, and she doesn’t dress as a man, but I think she’s far stronger than you in fighting for her own rights.”

With that, Xu Wenshan stood up. “I no longer live here, but I’ve left enough money with the innkeeper for a month. Consider it a gift—you can stay as long as you like, though you haven’t worked for it.”

His hand rested on the door as he was about to leave when Xu Jing suddenly asked, “Where are you living now?”

He replied simply, “Outside the city,” and left without looking back.

Xu Jing sat down in defeat. She hadn’t wanted to care about his fate, yet in the end, she’d still asked.

Lying on Xu Wenshan’s bed, her heart felt like a jar of mixed spices overturned—sour and bitter, spicy and sharp—until finally, she couldn’t help but cry softly.

It was as if she’d exhausted a lifetime’s worth of feelings in a single day.

…

After descending the stairs, Xu Wenshan said to the innkeeper, “The room upstairs now belongs to Young Master Xu. Do you understand?”

The innkeeper nodded quickly.

“Young Master Xu doesn’t want anyone to know he’s staying here. Understand?”

Another nod from the innkeeper.

“Good. If Young Master Xu leaves, you won’t get to keep a single coin of my money. So don’t breathe a word to anyone about his stay. Understand?”

The innkeeper nodded yet again.

Satisfied, Xu Wenshan departed. The innkeeper stood dumbfounded as he left, for before leaving, Xu Wenshan had poked a hole in the counter with his finger.

…

That night, many people slept fitfully.

For example, Xu Jing, who tossed and turned in her bed.

Or Xu Wenshan, who was busy discussing battle plans with two demons.

Or Lü Wuji, still out searching for suspicious suspects.

Yet, no matter what, the sun always rises as usual.

As the sun came up, someone in the fields discovered a corpse.

The body looked as if it had been hacked hundreds of times with a blunt knife. Flesh was stripped in ragged strips, littering the ground, and some pieces still hung from the corpse.

A twisted slash across the throat was the fatal wound, but it seemed the one who beheaded him was inexperienced—the cut was jagged and uneven.

The corpse had been disemboweled, the internal organs removed. Later, someone found them discarded a short distance away in a roadside ditch.

The arms were twisted at a strange angle, the flesh sliced away in layers, exposing gleaming white bone.

The constables carried the body to the street for identification, and the sight made everyone in the city lose their breakfast in disgust.

The face was barely recognizable. Later, someone said the corpse belonged to Song San of the Registrar’s Office.