◎A spark in the eyes, a plan forms in the heart.◎
After a long and exhausting day, Zhao Shi showed signs of fatigue and had to rescue her husband: “It’s getting late, and you still have to study tomorrow. You should go back and rest.”
The family of three returned to the eastern courtyard under the moonlight.
Ping’an excitedly recounted the day’s north-south battle, with Lin Yuebai playing along like a perfect sidekick.
Though Chen Yan didn’t say it aloud, he felt grateful deep down. He was well aware that the entire family was silently supporting him behind the scenes.
He had a not-so-bright father, and it seemed Ping’an took after his grandfather. The only way he could better protect his family was to spare no effort in forging a career path through officialdom.
…
Given the day’s brawl, Ping’an had gained a new perspective on the entire Chen family. Back in his room, he fetched brush and ink, scribbling randomly on paper to organize his thoughts.
Since he was accustomed to doodling everywhere, no one paid attention to what he was writing.
Grandfather had three brothers: Grandfather Chen Jingtang, Second Uncle Chen Jingren, Third Uncle Chen Jingli, and Fourth Uncle Chen Jingshi. The first two uncles, like Grandfather, had achieved little in any endeavor, and their sons were even more idle, living off the clan’s dividends.
Moreover, his cousins, led by Second Uncle’s two grandsons, grew increasingly unruly—climbing roofs and causing mischief everywhere. As they grew older, they became even more troublesome, committing all sorts of misdeeds under the leadership of Chen Pingye and his brothers.
Fourth Uncle Chen Jingshi, only ten years older than Old Dad, was carefree and hated evil passionately. He was the most scholarly among the four brothers, with talent that could rival Chen Yan’s. Unfortunately, he had forever lost the chance to take the Imperial Exam. He had since moved out and was rumored to be writing novels in a reclusive urban spot.
…
Chen Yan and Lin Yuebai were chatting idly, shaking their heads as they discussed the day’s brawl.
Lin Yuebai said, “Ping’an doesn’t like playing with his cousins mostly because they’re too rowdy. Despite his recent mischievousness, he’s still different. Yesterday, Mother mentioned that Ping’an would rather talk to the dog, probably because he’s too lonely. She has already asked a reliable agent to find two children—gender doesn’t matter, as long as they’re young and sensible—to serve as playmates.”
Ping’an, eavesdropping, had thought Grandmother was pushing for a second child. Turns out, she just wanted to find him playmates.
“That’s true,” Chen Yan agreed. “With Ping’an’s temperament, he can entertain himself for hours with just a piece of paper and a brush. Compared to his cousins, he’s already very well-behaved.”
Ping’an couldn’t help but pout wryly. In this family, he was often praised for being well-behaved. He used to think it was out of love, but later realized it was only because his peers were so much worse.
However, stopping his father from taking the Imperial Exam was the top priority now. To catch the ringleader, first catch the leader—the small fry could be dealt with later.
Chen Pingde had made a valid point today: Who said passing the Ke Examination guaranteed success in the Xiang Examination? That was like thousands of troops crossing a single log bridge. If it were so easy, Fan Jin wouldn’t have gone mad.
A spark lit in his eyes, and a plan formed in his heart.
…
The well-behaved Ping’an slept peacefully through the night, not forgetting to cover his parents with a thin blanket before bed to prevent them from catching a chill.
Chen Yan was deeply moved and gratified, while Lin Yuebai’s maternal instincts overflowed. She watched her son’s adorable sleeping face until late into the night before finally falling into a deep sleep.
The next morning, the celebratory atmosphere at home vanished completely, replaced by an orderly silence. With only one month left until the Xiang Examination, the entire household once again entered a state of rigorous preparation.
Summer days were long, and though it was only the hour of Yin, dawn already tinted the sky. A light rain overnight had dissipated some of the summer heat, leaving behind the earthy scent of damp soil in the air. Chen Yan rose early as usual to study.
The two senior maids in the main courtyard, Mo Lu and Jiu Huan, were both part of Lin Yuebai’s dowry. Today was Jiu Huan’s shift. Seeing the master rise to wash up, she promptly got up to assist, gathering his dark hair into a bun at the back and securing it with a net.
Jiu Huan had strong hands, moved with purpose, and spoke loudly: “Master’s hair must take after the old master’s, right? Even with all this early rising and late studying, it’s still so thick.”
Chen Yan flipped a page of his book with a rustle: “The old master never studied from dawn till dusk.”
Jiu Huan suddenly realized: “Then it must be from the mistress!”
Chen Yan didn’t respond further.
Jiu Huan went to instruct Feng Pozi to open the study windows, light the lamps, and brew a pot of ginseng tea, chattering about trivial matters like how strong tea could harm one’s health.
The girl was clever and capable, though somewhat noisy. Having recently received rewards, she was particularly diligent, but Chen Yan found it somewhat overwhelming. He simply selected a few books and moved to the front courtyard.
The front courtyard was quiet. A Xiang stood by like a mute gourd, attending to the ink and brushes. Unless spoken to, he didn’t even make a sound when breathing, leaving only the faint rustle of turning pages in the study.
Suddenly, a series of loud “crack-crack-crack” noises came from outside the window, accompanied by flashes of fire. The smell of gunpowder seeped through the window cracks into the room. Chen Yan’s brush stabbed straight into the rice paper, his ears ringing.
A Xiang quickly opened the door to check, squinting and frowning at the sight. A bamboo pole leaned against the courtyard wall, from which hung a long string of firecrackers twisting in several bends, creating a cacophony on the bluestone-paved courtyard.
A small figure stood at the far end of the courtyard holding a lit incense stick, covering his ears and watching with delight.
The night watch servant stared dumbfounded—the young master must have his reasons for doing this.
…
The steward Chen Shou, who had been sleeping, was startled awake. He stumbled over while pulling on his shoes, gasping for breath as he ran over.
After what felt like an eternity, the firecrackers finally stopped, leaving the entire front courtyard shrouded in gunpowder smoke. Looking at the chaotic mess in the courtyard, Chen Yan felt his famously photographic mind go somewhat numb.
“Father, father! You weren’t home yesterday, so Ping’an didn’t get to congratulate you yet.” Ping’an said cheerfully: “This is Ping’an’s congratulatory gift! May you fall at the first hurdle and return to fight another day!”
Chen Yan: …
Chen Shou nearly dropped to his knees, hurriedly spitting “pei pei pei pei!” to ward off the bad luck. He corrected: “It’s ‘plain sailing and certain success’!”
“Close enough, close enough!” Ping’an said, spreading his arms and running toward Chen Yan.
“My ancestor!” Chen Shou rushed forward to intercept, scooping Chen Ping’an up by the waist: “Look at this—it’s the middle of the night, the sun hasn’t even woken up yet, but you’re already awake. How inappropriate…”
Chen Yan watched as Chen Shou, muttering incessantly, carried the child away from the front courtyard. He then heard his wife chasing after them to the inner gate, scolding: “Chen Ping’an, you’re not a four-year-old anymore! You’re nominally five, practically six, and approaching seven—you should know better by now!”
Rubbing his still-ringing head, he called for A Xiang.
“Go ask where An Ge’er got those firecrackers. Isn’t the storeroom locked?” Chen Yan was mildly annoyed. Having lived over twenty years, he had never seen such long firecrackers. Who gave them to a child to play with? What if someone got hurt?
A Xiang immediately went to inquire and returned moments later to report: “These are called Wanxiang Cannons. The master bought them for An Ge’er, said they’re Wanfulong’s prized store item and quite expensive.”
Chen Yan frowned: “Why buy such things for a child?”
“The master said,” A Xiang deepened his voice in imitation, “if the child wants them, just buy them. It’s not like he’s asking for stars from the sky.”
Chen Yan: …
“What time is it?” he asked A Xiang.
“It’s exactly Yin hour.”
With Mao hour approaching for Prefectural School lectures, the remaining two quarters felt utterly useless. Chen Yan threw down his brush: “Let’s go.”
A Xiang gathered the writing materials and books, not forgetting to bring a windproof and fireproof lantern in case his young master wanted to read on the way.
As the carriage exited Chen Family Alley, the street lamps glittered brightly while shops along the street successively removed their door panels to welcome customers.
Why get angry with a child? He was just congratulating his father on passing the exam in his own way—Chen Yan had talked himself into understanding during the journey.
Returning home after school, Ping’an was running and jumping as usual as if nothing had happened that morning. Together with Lin Yuebai, Chen Yan spent over two quarters explaining the dangers of firecrackers, emphasizing that children must only set them off under adult supervision.
Ping’an agreed readily: “I understand. From now on I’ll watch from afar and not set them off myself.”
Chen Yan smiled: “Good boy.”
At dawn the next day, Chen Yan came to the front courtyard as usual, ordering lamps lit, gates closed, and paper spread for ink grinding, intending to practice writing while it was still early.
Suddenly, rapid and clear drumbeats echoed through the yard as Aji barked excitedly. Moments later, chaotic running footsteps followed—Ping’an was beating a hand drum while night watch servants scrambled to catch both the young master and the dog.
They barely managed to seize the drum from his hands when he dragged a large copper gong from Aji’s kennel, running while clanging it loudly.
All the servants in the front courtyard woke up startled. Someone cried out groggily: “Fire?!”
Others immediately echoed: “Fire!!”
Within moments, people arrived with buckets and basins, hair still disheveled, ready to fight the imaginary blaze.
This time Chen Shou didn’t even have time to properly wear his shoes, shuffling forward to maintain order while scolding the panicked servants. He squat down and coaxed Ping’an gently: “My ancestor, it’s still dark out. Aren’t you tired?”
Ping’an shook his head vigorously, eyes wide as copper bells.
“If you’re not tired, shall I take you to catch dragonflies in the neighboring garden?” Chen Shou suggested.
“That’s for four-year-olds. I’m almost five, practically six, nearly seven,” Ping’an declared. “I want to play blindfolded gong beating.”
So saying, he blindfolded himself with the sweat towel around his neck and raised the gong mallet again.
Another flurry of activity ensued before they managed to trick him out of his large gong.
Chen Yan didn’t open his door this time, but he repeatedly failed to concentrate on his book. He never used to understand Mencius’ mother who blamed neighbors when her son neglected studies, but now he could empathize with her position.
They heard the steward scolding quietly in the courtyard: “Who gave these broken things to the young master? What if his ears get damaged from the vibrations? Quickly take them away and throw them out, along with that wretched drum.”
“They’re not broken things! They’re Grandfather’s treasures,” Ping’an protested.
Chen Shou: “…”
Ping’an proudly introduced: “This drum is an imported good from Li Weiya, and the gong is from Western Jin…”
“Chen Ping’an!”
An angry voice pierced through the quiet dawn. Ping’an was startled—it turned out the commotion he’d made was too loud, and Mother had chased him all the way to the front courtyard.
“Madam.” The male servants scattered to make way.
Ping’an tossed the drumstick and mallet behind his back, put on an obedient smile, and took Mother’s hand: “Mother, are you tired? Shall we go back to sleep?”
The courtyard instantly returned to silence. Chen Yan stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the chair back.
“Master, perhaps you should speak with the Old Master?” Even the usually quiet A Xiang couldn’t help speaking up.
Chen Yan laughed in frustration.
An imported drum, a Western Jin gong, ten-thousand-cracker fireworks. He genuinely wanted to see what other exotic items his father would give this kid to cause trouble with.
So on the third day, in the dim morning light, Chen Yan saw a complete set of bianzhong chime bells in his front courtyard.