Making you a son-in-law is not about making you conquer the world.

"Qingge, where are you going?" Huang Jiayu asked, somewhat displeased.

Lin Ping had helped her a lot today and she should have thanked him, but she not only didn't say a word, but also left early. This not only embarrassed Lin Ping, but also made Huang Jiayu feel embarrassed.

"My daughter has just taken over as clan leader and still has many accounts to handle. Please enjoy your meal, Young Master Lin," Meng Qingge said sarcastically, then turned and left.

"I've spoiled this child since she was little," Huang Jiayu hurriedly explained, afraid that Lin Ping would be dissatisfied with Meng Qingge.

Lin Ping smiled faintly, knowing that Meng Qingge was not so easy to deal with, and he even felt that Huang Jiayu should not help.

A strong-willed woman like her dislikes the feeling of having her marriage arranged by others. Even if she already has feelings for Lin Ping, she will lose those feelings because of Huang Jiayu's matchmaking.

"Qingge has been busy these past few days and is indeed tired. Let her rest well. Some things can't be rushed," Lin Ping said with a reassuring smile, and then took his leave.

"This child is so considerate, he's a man who loves his wife, unlike some people who don't even dare to utter a sound when their wives are bullied." Huang Jiayu glared coldly at Meng Yuanping, knowing that they were destined not to share a bed tonight.

After returning to his room, Lin Ping was so cold that he couldn't sleep.

He regretted not installing underfloor heating for himself, so that the Meng family wouldn't have to spend money.

Through the window, Lin Ping noticed that candles were lit in Meng Qingge's room, but the light was dim.

At this time, candles were mostly made of natural beeswax. Although they were brighter than vegetable oil lamps, they still could not illuminate the entire room and would produce a lot of smoke due to incomplete combustion.

Yun'er kept trimming the wick next to the candle, something the master and servant were used to doing.

"Rou'er, why isn't your young lady resting yet?" Lin Ping asked curiously.

"Miss usually goes to sleep around midnight, and now that she has taken over the position of clan leader, she probably won't rest until 1-3 AM," Rou'er replied with a touch of sadness.

If she weren't uneducated, she would even have wanted to help Meng Qingge with some of the burden.

"The lights are too dim, which is bad for the eyes, and the smoke is too heavy, which is bad for the lungs," Lin Ping explained.

Rou'er nodded repeatedly, "Miss has been experiencing frequent eye pains and a persistent cough lately."

Hearing this, Lin Ping felt a pang of sympathy.

Due to overwork, Meng Qingge has developed a stomach ailment. If she also develops eye and lung problems, her body will eventually give out.

"Rou'er, give this oil lamp to your young lady." Lin Ping took out an oil lamp he had bought at a department store.

Thanks to Lin Ping's efforts, kerosene lamps have gradually become popular in the Wu Kingdom, but they have not yet spread to the Daye Dynasty.

"Is this lamp really working?" Rou'er asked with some doubt, but still delivered the kerosene lamp to Meng Qingge's boudoir.

In her mind, candles were a level above oil lamps, which made Lin Ping feel somewhat humiliated.

Before long, Meng Qingge's room became much brighter, as if it were daytime.

Lin Ping pretended to take out several sheets of bamboo paper and wrote a series of characters on them, clearly indicating that he had another plan.

dong dong dong.

A light voice came from outside the door: "Is Young Master Lin asleep?"

Meng Qingge's voice was clearly a little shy; visiting a man late at night was not the behavior of a lady from a respectable family.

But she couldn't resist her curiosity, and when she noticed that the light was on in Lin Ping's room, she mustered up the courage to knock on the door.

The two lived under the same roof, so their occasional meetings didn't draw any criticism.

"The door isn't locked, Miss Meng, please come in." Lin Ping continued writing with his head down.

Meng Qingge was clearly hesitant. What if Lin Ping wasn't wearing pants?

She came in with her eyes half-closed, and only felt at ease when she saw Lin Ping writing on the desk.

"Miss Meng, what brings you here so late at night?" Lin Ping asked, looking down and pretending to be deep in thought, though he had been glancing at her long, straight legs out of the corner of his eye.

“I wonder where Young Master Chen got this oil lamp from; it’s much brighter than my candle,” Meng Qingge replied.

"This is called a kerosene lamp. There are plenty of them in the streets and alleys of Wu Kingdom. They're worthless."

Lin Ping answered casually, as if it were an extremely ordinary thing.

"Qingge has heard that a remarkable person has emerged in the Wu Kingdom. Presumably, this kerosene lamp is also that person's masterpiece. It's just that the Daye Dynasty is not fortunate enough to have such a person," Meng Qingge said with emotion.

The extraordinary person she was referring to was, of course, Lin Ping.

"This girl must have heard of my name before? Could she have a crush on me?" Lin Ping's mind wandered.

The thought flashed through her mind. Meng Qingge had only heard of such a person in the Wu Kingdom, and didn't even know his name or age, let alone have a crush on him.

Lin Ping didn't continue speaking, but kept writing, trying to get Meng Qingge's attention.

"Huh? What kind of writing is Young Master Lin doing? I don't think I've ever seen it before." Meng Qingge finally turned her attention to what Lin Ping had written.

These are Arabic numerals, which Meng Qingge had never seen before, so it's understandable that she was curious.

"It's a script from my hometown. There were no teachers in the countryside, so the children couldn't read or write. As a result, a relatively simple script was passed down, specifically for arithmetic." Lin Ping smiled faintly. "At least when selling grain, you won't be cheated."

This explanation makes perfect sense; Lin Ping did indeed only write ten different characters, which seems very simple.

Upon learning that the characters were for arithmetic, Meng Qingge immediately became interested and asked, "I have eight dou of rice, each dou worth one hundred wen. You have some millet, each dou worth eighty wen. How much millet do you need to exchange for my rice?"

"Ten bushels," Lin Ping answered without hesitation, seriously suspecting he was being insulted.

This is only a third-grade elementary school question; Lin Ping is a college graduate and could answer it with his eyes closed.

Meng Qingge opened her mouth wide in surprise, as if she wanted to swallow something, but Lin Ping wouldn't let her.

"How could Young Master Lin arrive at the answer so quickly?" Meng Qingge asked.

Even someone who deals with numbers all her life couldn't give an immediate answer; she had to re-examine Lin Ping's hometown.

"Naturally, it's calculated using these numbers. Don't be fooled by the fact that there are only ten numbers here; there are tens of thousands of variations. Through the four arithmetic operations, we can quickly get the answers to some questions," Lin Ping explained as he wrote.

Meng Qingge listened with great interest, not only patiently but also asking questions from time to time.

In less than half an hour, Meng Qingge had roughly memorized the methods of the four arithmetic operations and was not sleepy at all.

"It's getting late, Miss Meng should rest too," Lin Ping reminded her.

Meng Qingge then realized that it was inappropriate for a man and a woman to be alone in a room, and her face turned as red as frost.

"This is a multiplication table. As long as you can recite it fluently, you can use the four arithmetic operations proficiently." Lin Ping handed a multiplication table that he had written down beforehand to the other party.

Meng Qingge held it carefully, as if she had received a piece of gold paper.

"Oh, by the way, staying up late is bad for your health and makes you age faster. If Miss Meng trusts me, you can bring me some accounts," Lin Ping said emphatically.

Everyone loves beauty, especially a beautiful young woman like Meng Qingge. She had to face the problem of staying up late and began to consider having Lin Ping handle some accounts.

“Young Master Lin…” Meng Qingge suddenly turned around and said very solemnly, “Thank you!”