Becoming a literary master starting from the story of Minglan

Chapter 437 Begging for mercy
"Shut up!"

Seeing that Lin Qinshuang was about to cry, Sheng Hong immediately raised his voice and made a stern sound!

"You stupid woman who has failed to raise her daughter properly! If you dare to make a fuss again, I'll punish you too! Go back to your Linxi Pavilion!!"

Enraged, Sheng Hong spat almost onto Lin Qinshuang's face. His eyes were filled with disgust and warning, cold and piercing.

Lin Qinshuang collapsed onto the cold ground, her hairpins and jewelry scattered, looking utterly disheveled.

She looked in the direction where Mo Lan had disappeared, then at Sheng Changquan, who was surrounded by people, his face pale but his eyes cold, and then at Sheng Hong's undisguised disgust...

Resentment, fear, despair, and a kind of madness driven to the edge of a cliff instantly wrapped around her heart like poisonous vines, choking her so much that she could hardly breathe!

Just then, a figure stumbled through the crowd; it was Sheng Changfeng, who had rushed over upon hearing the news.

His face was pale and his forehead was covered in cold sweat; he was clearly terrified.

He also saw the horrific scene of his sister being dragged away and his father's furious face. He knelt down in front of Sheng Hong with a thud, his voice trembling and choked with sobs: "Father...Father! Father, please calm down!"

Sheng Changfeng kowtowed twice, stammering, "Mo Lan... Mo Lan was confused for a moment! She... she must have been so angry that she did such a stupid thing!"

"Father, please forgive her this time, considering her young age and lack of understanding, and also because she has always been filial! The ancestral hall is cold and damp... she... she is weak and cannot bear it, Father!"

He genuinely cared for his half-sister, and his concern at that moment was heartfelt.

Sheng Hong was already furious, and seeing his good-for-nothing son causing trouble again only fueled his anger. He kicked Sheng Changfeng in the shoulder, sending him staggering: "Get out of my way! You useless thing!"

"Now you know how to care about your sister? Where were you before?!"

"She committed such a heinous and cruel act against her own siblings. How did you, as her elder brother, raise her?! And you still have the nerve to plead for her?! If you dare to say another word, I'll lock you up in the ancestral hall too!"

Sheng Hong's spittle instantly sprayed onto Sheng Changfeng's face.

Sheng Changfeng was terrified by his father's kick and roar. His shoulder ached terribly, and his last bit of courage vanished instantly.

He shrank back, scrambling to the side, not daring to look at Sheng Hong again, much less at Mo Lan being dragged away. He just lowered his head and trembled, his heart filled with fear and the thought of self-preservation.

Sheng Changquan's love for his sister was genuine, but this love seemed so insignificant in the face of his father's wrath and his own future, and was instantly crushed by the cowardice and selfishness in his bones.

Sheng Hong didn't even glance at Lin Qinshuang, who was slumped on the ground, or Sheng Changfeng, who was curled up in a ball. His attention was entirely on Sheng Changquan's hand, which was wrapped in thick cotton cloth and had faint traces of blood.

The physician had finished bandaging the wound and was reporting the extent of the injury in a low voice.

"It's just a superficial wound, nothing serious, thank goodness!" The physician wiped his sweat. "However, the wound is on the back of your right hand, which will definitely affect your writing, especially... especially with the imperial examinations approaching. You need to rest and avoid any exertion, otherwise the wound will reopen, slowing down the healing process and potentially leaving a scar that affects your dexterity..."

With each word the physician spoke, Sheng Hong's heart sank a little lower.

Looking at his son's hand, wrapped like a rice dumpling, he seemed to see the scene in the examination hall, his son enduring excruciating pain, his wrist trembling, his handwriting crooked as he answered the questions... He also seemed to see the day the results were announced, and the devastating news that his son had failed the exam because of his poor handwriting... Then he thought of the ancient "pine soot" inkstone of Grand Secretary Yu, which carried heavy expectations...

Sheng Hong felt a sudden dizziness, and his heart clenched with pain! "It's over...it's all over..."

Sheng Hong wailed inwardly, as if he could see the bright future of the Sheng family, with its glory shining brightly and its genealogy having its own page, being torn open by Mo Lan's scissors, leaving a huge, unhealable crack!

The more he thought about it, the angrier and more frightened he became. His face turned from red to green, then from green to white, until finally only an indescribable distorted expression remained, a mixture of overwhelming rage and immense panic.

He whirled around and let out another low, beast-like growl in the direction where Mo Lan had disappeared: "You wretched creature! You wretched creature!!"

……

The atmosphere inside Zeyu Hall was oppressive.

After the physician finished treating the wound and took his leave, Old Madam Sheng tenderly stroked Sheng Changquan's uninjured left hand, her eyes reddening.

Sheng Hong paced back and forth in the room like a restless, trapped beast, sighing and muttering repeatedly, "The imperial examination... the handwriting... what am I going to do... what am I going to do..."

Sheng Changquan leaned against the soft pillows, his face slightly pale, but his expression was unusually calm, even with a reassuring smile: "Grandmother, Father, there is no need to worry too much. The physician said it is just a superficial injury, and rest is all that is needed. There is still some time before the imperial examination, and I will take good care of myself and will not let anything happen to me."

He paused, deliberately frowning slightly as he looked at his heavily bandaged right hand, and said in a tone tinged with youthful distress, "It's just... I'm afraid I'll have to neglect my calligraphy practice these next few days, and my wrist is starting to feel a bit stiff..."

"When the exam comes, my handwriting will probably be... much worse. I can only do my best."

He deliberately feigned weakness, bringing up Sheng Hong's biggest concern—his "poor handwriting"—again, adding fuel to the fire.

Sure enough, upon hearing this, Sheng Hong stopped abruptly, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, and pounded his chest in frustration: "Inferior?! Inferior is more than inferior!"

"Your 'powerful script' is so bold and unyielding, it's your reliance for achieving great success! But now... now... alas!"

He could almost see the examiner shaking his head and sighing at the crooked paper, feeling heartbroken beyond measure. This intensified his hatred for Mo Lan and Lin Qinshuang, making him wish he could rush to the ancestral hall and whip Mo Lan dozens more times!

Looking at her grandson's calm face, and then at her son's devastated expression, Grandma Sheng felt both heartache and helplessness. She could only force herself to comfort him, saying, "Alright, Hong'er!"

"There's no use in rushing things now that things have come to this!"

"Brother Quan is a lucky man, he will surely turn misfortune into good fortune! The most important thing right now is to let him rest in peace! You all go out and don't disturb him here!"

After being scolded by his mother, Sheng Hong could only suppress his frustration and worry. He gave Sheng Changquan a few perfunctory words of advice such as "take good care of yourself" and "don't worry," before sighing and leaving with the old lady.

Even after the elders left, the atmosphere at Zeyutang didn't ease much.

Cuiming brought in the freshly brewed medicine. She was usually calm and composed, but at this moment her face showed undisguised heartache and solemnity.

She carefully helped Sheng Changquan drink his medicine, her movements extremely gentle, as if afraid of hurting him. She whispered, "Young Master, this medicine will calm your nerves and relieve your pain. Please drink it and get a good night's sleep. Is your hand... still hurting badly?"

She looked at the thick gauze, her brows furrowed.