◎Dad, We’ve Been Kicked Out, Haven’t We?◎
Lin Yuebai thought her in-laws were worrying too much. There was no need to tell Chen Yan about this matter in the first place. Over the past two years, her husband had been so consumed by his scholarly pursuits that his presence was barely noticeable to their child. Expecting him to educate their son was as futile as expecting a piece of wood to do the job.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to resent him.
Before marrying into the Chen family, she had heard that her future husband was a brilliant scholar. She had worried he might be a stubborn, pedantic bookworm, but her concerns proved unnecessary. Chen Yan was bright and radiant, his speech and laughter natural and engaging.
After their son was born, Chen Yan doted on him immensely. Returning from school, he would rush to hold the child without even stopping to eat or change clothes first. The bond between father and son was exceptionally close.
Chen Yan’s drastic change in temperament stemmed from that fatal incident two years ago. The free-spirited young talent suddenly witnessed the power of authority, and his transformation happened overnight. All talk of justice residing in people’s hearts or law serving as the public instrument of the world meant nothing—for ordinary folks wanting to protect their families from oppression, the imperial examinations were the only path.
From that day on, Chen Yan devoted most of his time and energy to classical texts and examination essays. Whenever exams approached, he became so busy he’d practically vanish, growing increasingly silent and withdrawn.
Lin Yuebai understood her husband’s response to the world’s injustice—otherwise she wouldn’t have supported him wholeheartedly. But now that Ping’an was growing up, the father and son were becoming estranged.
If Ping’an were merely playing pranks out of dissatisfaction with his father, that wouldn’t be a major issue. But he clearly understood what the Examination Pass meant to Chen Yan. Despite his young age, he already knew how to strike where it hurt most. If he could casually destroy his father’s future prospects, what wouldn’t he dare to do later?
If her child developed twisted thoughts and corrupted character from this, she would regret it for the rest of her life.
The more Lin Yuebai thought about it, the more frightened she became. She bid farewell to her mother-in-law and hurried back to the eastern courtyard.
Striding briskly toward the house, she commanded, “Close the courtyard gate. No one is allowed in.”
She then ordered Jiu Huan to fetch the Sleeve Loops she used for martial arts practice and sword training. Rolling up her wide sleeves, she tied them behind her back with a slipknot.
Mo Lu hurried in after her and asked, “What if the master returns?”
“Keep him outside too.” That was the last thing she wanted to hear right now.
…
Ping’an was a perceptive child. He had felt restless all day, and sure enough, the way his mother dragged him into the room seemed anything but friendly.
Putting on an ingratiating expression, he said, “Mother, it’s so hot—why close the door?”
Her face cold, Lin Yuebai pulled a Feather Duster from the vase and sat on the edge of the daybed. “Will you tell me yourself, or shall I tell you what you did?”
While Ping’an was still weighing his options, Lin Yuebai raised the Feather Duster. With a loud “Wah!”, he tried to bolt outside, knocking over chairs and a flower stand in his path. Before he could reach the door bolt, his mother caught him and dragged him back.
Lin Yuebai had martial arts training, so catching a child was effortless for her. Through gritted teeth, she said, “Your grandmother has already investigated everything. She told me to come back and have a proper talk with you.”
Ping’an truly couldn’t understand—why would his usually clever grandmother think his mother would “have a proper talk” with him?
“I was just playing a game with Father,” he offered weakly.
“Playing a game? The whole family was frantic with worry, and you didn’t say a single word. Was that fun?” Lin Yuebai retorted. “Of all the things you could play with, why touch your father’s Examination Pass? Don’t you know how important his exam is?”
“Mom, I know I was wrong, I won’t dare do it again.” Ping’an clung to his mother’s arm, his eyes brimming with tears.
“If there’s a next time, stand properly.” Lin Yuebai’s face was stern.
Ping’an leaned against his mother as if he had no bones: “Mom, you’ll feel bad too if you hit me.”
The duster in Lin Yuebai’s hand rose again: “My pain is mine, yours is yours, what does it matter?”
Ping’an was nearly in tears…
Held firmly by his mother, Ping’an had nowhere to run. Just as he was about to scream “Help!”, someone knocked on the door outside.
“Knock, knock, knock.”
To Ping’an, this sound was like heavenly troops descending to save him.
“Yuebai.” It was Chen Yan outside: “Open the door, let’s talk this through properly.”
Lin Yuebai had only been pretending to be angry initially, but hearing her husband’s voice, a sudden wave of inexplicable anger surged within her. After the anger passed, she realized the main issue wasn’t with their son, but with her husband.
So she threw down the duster, sat on the edge of the bed, and said to Ping’an: “Your father’s here, go open the door.”
Ping’an shrank his neck and shook his head vigorously. No way – he knew the difference between a women’s singles match and mixed doubles all too well.
Lin Yuebai sighed helplessly and got up to open the door.
When Chen Yan entered the room and saw the overturned tables and chairs in disarray, he bent down to right the flower stand, only to find his wife’s favorite fine porcelain vase shattered on the floor.
Chen Yan glanced at his wife’s expression, then roughly patted Ping’an’s head and pushed him out: “Go play outside for now.”
Ping’an took the hint and made his escape.
Lin Yuebai looked up to meet her husband’s gaze: “Your son hid your Examination Pass.”
Chen Yan picked up the tea tray that had fallen on the floor, remaining completely calm: “I know.”
“You know?” Lin Yuebai exclaimed in surprise: “How did you know?”
Chen Yan smiled: “The day before yesterday, I saw him hunched over eating an apple with a guilty, shifty look – I had my suspicions then.”
Lin Yuebai suddenly understood – Ping’an normally hated apples and wouldn’t touch them.
“And you’re smiling.” Lin Yuebai’s anger instantly shifted to her husband: “Since you knew, why didn’t you question him earlier? Small thefts lead to greater ones – haven’t you learned that from all those classics you’ve read?”
Chen Yan retorted: “His guilty silence shows he already knows he did wrong. If I questioned him, he’d likely lie out of fear. Then he’d not only keep his habit of hiding things, but add lying to it – hardly worth it.”
Lin Yuebai:…
Sometimes she found her husband quite difficult to communicate with.
Chen Yan continued: “It’s not a big deal, and there’s still time to fix it. He’s still young, we can teach him gradually.”
“Teach him gradually, Chen Yanzhang? Is raising our son only my responsibility? You usually don’t pay him any attention, and when he makes a mistake, you know about it but don’t report it? You…”
Looking at her husband’s increasingly confused expression, Lin Yuebai felt the frustration of talking to a brick wall.
“Never mind, you won’t understand no matter what I say.”
She shooed her husband back to the front courtyard, then summoned the maids Mo Lu and Jiu Huan, the nursemaid Cao Mama, and the handywoman Feng Pozi. She had an important announcement to make.
…
Back in his study, Chen Yan couldn’t see any reason in his wife’s behavior.
Among his classmates who had started families, their children mostly began elementary education around four or five years old. Before that, they all stayed with their mothers, learning simple characters and a few poems to prepare for school – every family did the same. While he was away studying for exams, who else should a young child follow if not his mother?
Thinking this, he quickly washed his face and immersed himself back into his books and studies.
Night fell, and the courtyard was filled with the incessant chirping of insects.
A Xiang knocked and entered, carrying bundles of various sizes—clothes, shoes, socks, a water cup, toys, and even a small chamber pot.
Chen Yan frowned slightly, only to see Feng Pozi from the eastern courtyard following behind him, carrying a sleeping child in her arms—his son.
A moment later, a light-yellow puppy trotted in, sniffing the ground with its nose pressed to the floor. A Xiang tossed a separate small bundle into the corner, which contained Aji’s food bowl, collar, and leather ball.
“What’s going on?” Chen Yan asked.
A Xiang stammered hesitantly.
Feng Pozi bowed with an apologetic smile and said, “Master, the mistress has instructed that An Ge’er will live in the front courtyard from now on. ‘A son’s faults reflect the father’s failures.’ She asks that you take him under your wing and teach him slowly.”
“I…” Before Chen Yan could finish speaking, Feng Pozi thrust Ping’an into his arms.
Holding the heavy child, he asked again, “What about the wet nurse?”
Feng Pozi replied, “The mistress said that Cao Mama has worked hard caring for An Ge’er these past years and hasn’t had time to visit her own child. She’s been given a month’s leave to return home and see her family.”
Chen Yan understood. His wife was angry with him and had deliberately sent Cao Mama away, packing their son off to the front courtyard just to force him to bow his head and admit defeat.
Immediately, his temper flared.
He, who had been reciting texts from memory and composing eloquent prose since childhood—if not for his mentor’s deliberate efforts to restrain him and deepen his studies, he would have gone to the capital two years ago to take the Spring Examinations.
Him, Chen Yan—incapable of raising a child?
Preposterous!
Not only could he do it, but he was also firmly opposed to scolding or hitting children. He would be a kind father, teaching Ping’an to read and understand principles, guiding him to become an upright gentleman who walked the path of righteousness.
With this thought, Chen Yan lifted his chin and declared, “A Xiang, go and tidy up. From today onward, An Ge’er will live with me in the front courtyard.”
“Master…” A Xiang wanted to advise against it—raising a child was no easy task.
But he saw that Chen Yan had already carried Ping’an into the inner room.
The study in the front courtyard was spacious, partitioned by a wooden screen to create an inner chamber where Chen Yan rested when he studied late into the night. The furnishings were simple, but the bed was reasonably wide and comfortable.
After all the commotion, it was already late. After tucking Ping’an in, Chen Yan quietly washed up, changed his clothes, and slept on the outer side of the bed.
He slept until the rooster’s crow at dawn. Chen Yan rose as usual to study, but the rustling sounds of him dressing seemed to wake Ping’an.
Ping’an sat up with a head of messy hair and bleary eyes, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings.
Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?
Father and son locked eyes, the atmosphere slightly awkward.
Chen Yan explained gently, “Ping’an, your mother hasn’t been feeling well lately, and she’s in a bad mood. Coincidentally, the wet nurse has some matters to attend to at home and has gone back for a visit. For now, why don’t you stay with your father in the front courtyard?”
Ping’an sat cross-legged, shaking his dazed head. “Father, we’ve been kicked out, haven’t we?”
Chen Yan: …
Ping’an sighed helplessly. “Next time my mother hits me, maybe you shouldn’t interfere.”
Chen Yan: …
“Look how I’ve been dragged into this.”
Chen Yan: …
Ungrateful wretch.
Chen Yan shot him a glare. “Still sleepy? If not, get up. Your father needs to study.”
Ping’an blinked, looking up in surprise. “You still have to study?”
Chen Yan gave him a strange look.
“Didn’t you miss the exam?” Ping’an asked again.
“Students who missed the Ke Examination can take the Luyi next month,” Chen Yan explained as he washed up by the bedside, adding for clarity, “It’s a make-up exam.”
“Oh.” Ping’an nodded, then suddenly realized something was wrong and leaped up from the bed: “Make-up exam?!”