After saving the Empress, I became the top scholar in the imperial examination.

Before the other person could turn their gaze to him, Ning Nan averted his eyes and looked at Li Liang. In that instant, his eyes turned fierce, and Li Liang trembled in fright, his buttocks shuffling backward.

Ning Nan stood up and began to untie the strip of cloth wrapped around his right hand. "Lock him in the kitchen of the 'scholarly seed's' house. Send him to the authorities tomorrow."

"Is it really that simple?" someone questioned.

"No more drowning pigs in cages?"

"At least break their legs."

Ning Nan put away the dagger and shrugged: "After all, we're from the same village. If we break his leg, he won't have anything to eat, and we'll have to bring him food. Let the county magistrate judge this kind of flower thief."

Li Yanting shook his head and said, "I don't think so. Li Liang squandered the family fortune and forced his father to his death. He is already a person who is hated by both gods and men. Now he has done such a disgraceful thing. Although he failed, he has already greatly tarnished the reputation of my Li family..."

"Oh, what's this? Is this bookworm planning to set up a private court?" A light, airy voice called out.

Ning Nan looked at him with amusement.

Setting up a private court is a serious crime in Daliang, but if one has official rank, it can be resolved by turning a major issue into a minor one. After all, which high-ranking family doesn't set up a private court?

However, although Li Yanting was well-known and even had his name on the Jiangning County Education Office, where he was praised as "Li's son is truly talented," he was still just a commoner and not even a scholar.

If, at this time, a reputation were to spread that someone "dared to set up a private court," the actual "court official" would likely laugh and say, "If you dare to set up a private court, why bother taking the exam?" upon seeing his name during the provincial examination.

This is not without precedent. Countless talented scholars have failed because of this one step, their lives ruined by a single word from an official.

Li Yanting felt a chill run down his spine. Under everyone's gaze, his heart sank, and his face gradually turned a deep purplish-red. He slowly continued, "But the laws of our Great Liang are strict, and the county magistrate is discerning and thorough. I'm sure he will judge the case impartially, severely punish this scoundrel, and restore the innocence of the Li family!"

"So?" Ning Nan asked.

"Lock me in my kitchen! Report this to the village head tomorrow and send me to the authorities!"

Ning Nan nodded: "That's creative, let's do it that way."

Li Yanting's noodles trembled, and he clenched his fist.

Ning Nan patted him on the shoulder: "Why are you clenching your fists?" Pointing at Li Liang on the ground, "You're tying him up! You wait, San Zhuang will do it!"

That's what they said, but after all, he was a minor scholar, a literary star descended to earth. Ning the Demon was not afraid of death and dared to be impolite to him, but the others did not dare. They hurriedly shouted, "I'll do it, I'll do it," and stepped forward to pick up Li Liang, then tied him up in the kitchen with a rope.

Ning Nan turned around, waved to San Zhuang and Li Xing, and said, "Go home, go home, go to sleep!"

San Zhuang said, "Brother, I'm in great spirits."

Ning Nan was speechless; this guy had definitely had a good sleep.

"Then you'll sleep in the kitchen of the 'Reading Seed's' house tonight and keep an eye on Li Liang."

"Does it include meals?" San Zhuang understood and turned to Li Yanting.

Li Yanting said irritably, "There are noodles, two jin of meat, and a little bit more in the kitchen..."

He paused, then waved his hand without continuing, saying, "Make yourself something to eat."

San Zhuang chuckled and said, "Okay."

The crowd gradually dispersed.

Li Xing's home is at the west end of the village. He walked slowly alongside Ning Nan for a while.

Silver light poured onto the road, and the two shadows were side by side.

"Brother, I just saw that peddler."

Li Xing lowered his voice and said...

"I secretly asked Jiu Jin, and he said that the peddler gave him five copper coins and asked him to stay at his house for the night."

Li Jiujin is Li Sanjin's son, about the same age as Li Xing. He's an honest but timid boy who usually runs away when he sees Li Xing. Tonight, however, he ran out with his father, carrying a stick.

Ning Nan patted Li Xing on the head: "Pretend you didn't see it, go home and get some sleep."

Her own fence was far inferior to Li Yanting's brick wall, but her mother still made a big show of it by building a wooden gate for the yard, though she didn't lock it; it was just for show.

Ning Nan just opened the bolt on the wooden door.

A dim light was then lit in the main room.

"Still not asleep?"

Ning Nan walked into the main room, closed the creaking wooden door, and stared at his mother.

"Just got back from playing mahjong."

The old woman lowered her voice and pointed to the inner room, meaning not to wake Zhu Cuicui who was asleep.

Ning Nan nodded.

Just then, a soft yet cool voice came from the inner room: "Godmother, could you please let him in for a moment?"

"Huh?"

Ning Nan was stunned.

Hey?

Before he could even react, his mother, her eyebrows raised, had already started to move, pushing him into the inner room. With a bang, she rushed in and lit the oil lamp, the dim yellow light slowly filling the room. The woman called out, "Hey, Cuicui, talk to me, Mother's going to sleep!"

As if a dog might jump out of the door and bite her, she slammed the door shut with a bang, incredibly fast.

Ning Nan sighed for a moment, then dragged over a bamboo chair and sat down on the edge of the bed: "What's up?"

Zhu Cuiwei can now move her hands almost completely, and her strength has recovered a lot.

Having spent too much time in the dark, her eyes stung a little when it suddenly became bright, so she rubbed them.

Ning Nan stood up and carefully picked up the oil lamp that had been placed on the windowsill.

The warm, dim light drew closer, and the light in the woman's eyes grew brighter.

Ning Nan moved the oil lamp to the wooden table beside the bed, a spot where the woman could easily reach it.

He bent down, took out a tinderbox from under the wooden platform, and placed it next to the oil lamp.

"My mom loves playing mahjong and is often not home at night. If you're not used to it being dark, you can turn on the lights yourself. There's no shortage of oil at home."

Light can give people a sense of security, and when you feel secure, your injuries heal faster.

The woman paused, then glanced at him a few times without saying anything, her big, dark eyes meeting his.

A while later.

He turned his head and said, "I will pay it back later."

"I believe that wealthy families are not short of money."

Ning Nan nodded, thinking that this pretty maid had a bit of a ladylike air about her.

It's already quite remarkable that a maidservant from such a wealthy family, who is used to spending lavishly, could stay at his house to recuperate without causing trouble or showing disdain.

After all, even a small slip from the master's hand could be enough for him to write a hundred calligraphy pieces for Old Monster Han. Ning Nan smacked his lips.

He only earns twenty coins for writing a piece of calligraphy.

Old Han's eyes are becoming increasingly discerning; if there's even the slightest flaw, he'll reject it and make him rewrite it.

Making money is hard.

However, apart from Han Laoguai, he really had no other place to access good paper, inkstones, or good books, especially those related to the imperial examinations. The two of them got what they needed, and in a way, Ning Nan felt that he had gotten a good deal.

Han Laoguai was an old scholar who had failed the imperial examinations many times, but he was addicted to them. He bought a lot of the examination experience books of the successful candidates. Whether Han Laoguai read them or not, he enjoyed reading them.

Zhu Cuiwei pursed her pink lips.

When Ning was feeding her dinner, she really wanted to sell the man in front of her and ask about the bow, but after thinking it over, she held back for some reason.

But another question was asked.

Regarding that poem.

"Did you write that poem?" Zhu Cuiwei raised an eyebrow at the earthen-yellow wall opposite.

Which sentence?

"Just this sentence." She pointed with her finger.

"Oh, yes."

"Did you write this when you were a child?"

"Um."

"Written when you were seven?" The woman thought for a moment, then frowned.

"Hmm, what's wrong? Is it in the way? I'll just put some wood ash on it tomorrow."