Faced with Yang Kui's accusation, Wang Ping remained calm. He feigned ignorance, asking, "And who might your son be?"
Yang Kui immediately unrolled a scroll. It depicted a dashing young man with a handsome face, dressed in a long white robe. He stood beneath a peach blossom tree, a folding fan in his hand.
The two officials accompanying Yang Kui then unrolled two more scrolls. The painting on the left showed the scene of Yang Jing and his servant frozen solid. The painting on the right depicted a vast expanse of land encased in ice—rivers, mountains, villages, and towns had not been spared.
"Was this your doing, Daoist?"
Suppressing his rage, Yang Kui pointed at the three scrolls and glared at Wang Ping.
Wang Ping's expression remained placid. He met Yang Kui's gaze and said, "If you mean those bandits, then yes. I was the one who eliminated them, a service to the people."
"You! My son is the Vice Minister of the Ministry of War! How could he be a bandit? You..."
