◎Since Things Have Come to This, Don’t Blame Your Mother for Being Ruthless!◎
Hiss—
Chen Yan felt his heart skip a beat.
Snapping back to reality, he called out sternly: “Chen Ping’an.”
Ping’an grinned, revealing a row of milky-white little teeth: “Father, let’s fight.”
Chen Yan had endured for a full month and finally reached his limit. He scooped Ping’an up, laid him across his knees, and delivered several swift smacks. By the time Ping’an realized what was happening, his bottom was already stinging with a burning pain.
“Ahhh! Father—no—fair! I—haven’t—said—start!” Ping’an flailed his arms and legs.
Chen Yan set him back on the ground, waited for him to say “start,” then promptly pinned him down again for another round.
Given the vast disparity in their strength, the fight turned into a one-sided beating. Ping’an’s attempts at a kip-up were his last stubborn act of defiance.
The outcome was Ping’an’s disastrous defeat. Clutching his sore bottom, he scampered off and disappeared.
Chen Yan finally let out a long-held breath of resentment, feeling immensely relieved.
Picking up his brush again, his hand moved with fluid speed as if divinely aided, producing the most satisfactory practice essay he had written since the Ke Examination began.
…
In the eastern room, Lin Yuebai stood on the soft Jacquard Carpet beside the bed, glaring furiously at the little rascal snoring soundly on the bed.
At nightfall, she had tied the corner of her robe to her son’s as usual, intending to prevent him from disturbing her husband’s studies early in the morning. But just as she fell asleep, the mischievous child had retrieved a small pair of scissors from the bedside table, cut a hole in her clothing, and slipped out of bed.
Looking at the torn garment, Lin Yuebai clenched her fists.
Since things have come to this, don’t blame your mother for being ruthless!
…
Ping’an slept until the sun was high, squirming like a large worm and rolling about on the soft bedding.
“An Ge’er is awake!” Mo Lu entered carrying a basin of warm water, intending to help him wash up.
Ping’an lifted his head from the blankets and gave her a sweet, sleepy smile.
“Ah!” Mo Lu suddenly screamed, nearly dropping the bronze basin as water splashed across the floor. “An Ge’er, you… your eyes…”
Ping’an: ??
Mo Lu turned to fetch a small bronze mirror and held it before him.
Ping’an peered into the mirror and saw a child with rosy lips and fair skin, now sporting two large, dark circles under his eyes, resembling a little zombie from modern movies.
While he was still stunned, Jiu Huan hurriedly brought his mother over in a panic.
“Madam, please look quickly—An Ge’er, he…”
Lin Yuebai rushed to sit by the bed, cupping Ping’an’s little face and examining it closely. Her expression shifted to one of alarm: “What has An Ge’er eaten these past few days?”
Mo Lu hastily replied: “He’s been eating and living with you and the master, and he hasn’t gone out with the lord to eat anything strange. How could this happen?”
“Go fetch a physician at once,” Lin Yuebai instructed.
Jiu Huan acknowledged the order and hurried out.
Tears streamed down Lin Yuebai’s cheeks as she dabbed them with a handkerchief, sobbing: “My poor child, you mustn’t be afraid. Mother will find a way to cure you.”
Mo Lu stood by the bed, also wiping away tears. Xiao Fulu was too frightened to approach, while A Man tried to comfort him.
“Mother, I wasn’t scared originally,” Ping’an said with a trembling voice. They were creating such a solemn atmosphere, as if preparing for a funeral at any moment.
Half-doubting, he walked to the dressing table, dipped his finger in water, and rubbed it around his eyes. The dark circles didn’t fade.
He then went to the washstand, scooped up clean water to wash his face, tightly shut his eyes, and scrubbed vigorously with his small hands.
It was actually real!
He was starting to panic now. At just four years old, so young, and already he wasn’t handsome anymore.
Staring at the “little zombie” in the mirror, Ping’an felt like crying. Even in ancient times, one had to rely on their looks to make a living! After all that fuss, Old Dad’s Imperial Exam ambitions remained completely unaffected, while his own rice bowl had been the first to go.
“The doctor is here!” Jiu Huan’s urgent voice carried into the main hall.
The old doctor entered carrying his medicine chest. After going through the four diagnostic methods of observation, listening, questioning, and pulse-taking, Ping’an grew extremely nervous, placing his small hand obediently on the pulse pillow without daring to move a muscle.
The doctor put away the pulse pillow and said leisurely, “The young master suffers from liver qi stagnation and obstructed energy flow, leading to poor blood circulation…”
Ping’an felt dizzy listening to this. “Grandpa doctor, could you please say something a child can understand?”
The doctor smiled. “Young master, do you wake up daily during the yin hour (3-5 am), and often skip afternoon naps?”
Ping’an nodded honestly.
“At your age, you shouldn’t wake up before the chen hour (7-9 am), and must take afternoon naps lasting at least half an hour. Otherwise, you’ll end up like today – with stagnant qi and blood congestion gathering around the eyes, forming dark circles.” The doctor explained methodically.
“Oh—” Ping’an finally understood.
“Doctor, is there a cure? He’s only four…” Lin Yuebai asked anxiously.
“Madam, don’t worry.” The doctor sat down and picked up his brush to write a prescription. “Follow this prescription – take the medicine twice daily for three consecutive days, and the condition will improve. However, remember that treatment accounts for only thirty percent of recovery, while proper care makes up seventy percent. You must ensure he doesn’t wake up early or sleep late anymore!”
Lin Yuebai looked at Ping’an, who nodded repeatedly like a chick pecking at rice.
Watching the doctor pack his medicine chest, Ping’an suddenly asked, “Grandpa doctor, can pigmentation really be cured in just three days?”
Doctor Li: …
What pigmentation?
Ping’an continued, “Can it also treat the age spots on grandfather’s face?”
Doctor Li: ?
“And the butterfly spots on grandmother’s face?”
Doctor Li: ??
Ping’an reached for the prescription. That wasn’t just a prescription – it was a glittering path to wealth! Although his family was already wealthy, who would complain about having more money?
Doctor Li began to feel somewhat flustered.
Lin Yuebai quickly stopped her son. “Ahem, Doctor Li must be busy, right? Jiu Huan.”
Jiu Huan immediately stepped forward, presenting Doctor Li with a substantial appearance fee—ahem, consultation fee—then smilingly escorted him out.
Once in the courtyard and safely out of Ping’an’s sight, Jiu Huan finally expressed her appreciation for his trouble.
Doctor Li breathed a sigh of relief, wiping sweat from his temple. “Your young master is quite difficult to fool. What exactly is that on his eye sockets?”
Jiu Huan whispered, “Our madam used the finest Mei Dai. It doesn’t wash off with water – you need oil to remove it.”
Doctor Li marveled, “There’s actually such a remarkable product.”
“Just touch it up daily while he’s asleep.” Jiu Huan then asked, “Doctor Li, about this prescription…”
Doctor Li said, “I made it up – just red dates, wheat kernels, Chinese yam and such. Harmless ingredients, just decoct and take them.”
Jiu Huan paused. “Red dates, wheat kernels, Chinese yam… wouldn’t that just make congee?”
Doctor Li: …
This maid sure asks a lot of questions.
…
The next day at noon, he first went to the County Yamen to handle business—his wife had asked him to put in a word with the County Yamen Household Department. She wanted Cao Mama to take the two children and establish a separate household, preferably recovering the property her late husband had accumulated during his lifetime. Though it was just a low, damp small house, it still counted as some assets.
The Household Department informed him that according to the current imperial regulations, if a husband died and the children were young, a widow wishing to divide the family property must establish a female-headed household.
After clarifying the procedures, Chen Yan was about to leave when Sun Zhixian, learning of his presence, sent someone to summon him for a chat.
Upon entering the rear hall, the magistrate was indeed idling again. He warmly pulled Chen Yan aside, brewed a pot of tea, and invited him to admire his newly crafted bonsai—a welcoming pine.
“Yan Zhang, I notice a cloud of restlessness between your brows. I shall gift this to you—place it on your desk and glance at it when you have a moment.”
Gazing at the dense-needled, resilient, and upright pine tree, Chen Yan sighed, “Your Honor means to remind me: ‘Contentment clarifies purpose, tranquility leads to far-reaching vision.'”
Sun Zhixian took a sip of tea. “I meant to encourage you to be stronger.”
Chen Yan: …
Sun Zhixian chuckled and personally refilled his tea. “Is it still about your son?”
Chen Yan then recounted the events of the previous night.
Upon hearing his account, Sun Zhixian not only showed no sympathy but strongly condemned his violent behavior: “Yan Zhang, do you know the ancients taught there are seven occasions not to scold a child: not before others, not when they show remorse, not at night, not during meals, not during celebrations, not in times of sorrow, and not when they are ill.”
Listening carefully, Chen Yan thought, Oh, so that means never scolding a child at all.
Sun Zhixian emphasized again, “In dealing with children, one must be patient, guide step by step, influence subtly, and teach by word and deed… You are a scholar; remember ‘in great anger, do not roar and rebuke.’ How could you strike a young child? You must understand—you may have many children, but he has only one father.”
Chen Yan felt a tumult of conflicting emotions.
After a moment of silence, he asked curiously, “Your Honor, can you actually practice all that you preach?”
“Of course I can,” Sun Zhixian replied with pride, then added somewhat sheepishly, “But Zhuojing cannot. Zhuojing has a short temper and keeps them thoroughly disciplined, so I need not worry.”
Chen Yan: …
What was the penalty for insulting an imperial official again?
Never mind—I’d rather spend that energy reviewing a couple more Cheng Essays.