◎Grandfather, My Parents Seem to Have Disappeared.◎
The next day, Ping’an woke up bathed in warm sunlight, still wrapped in his small quilt. Old Dad was studying, Mother was doing her makeup, Cao Mama hadn’t returned from their hometown yet, and only Sister Jiu Huan was bustling about, helping him get up and dressed.
The entire Chen residence, inside and out, had been cleaned spotlessly. All the servants had changed into brand new clothes, and the courtyard was decorated with lanterns and colorful banners, creating a jubilant atmosphere.
Having slept poorly with frequent dreams, Ping’an asked groggily, “Is it New Year’s already in July?”
Jiu Huan burst out laughing: “Young master, you’re so funny! The family is preparing the celebration banquet for the eldest young master.”
Ping’an grew even more surprised: “We’re celebrating before the Xiang Examination even takes place?”
Wasn’t this too high-profile?
Jiu Huan replied brightly: “The Old Master had us change into completely new clothes early this morning. I heard he ordered fifty tables of banquet food from Mingyue Restaurant and invited all relatives and friends to come celebrate.”
When Ping’an ran to the front courtyard to look, he was immediately stunned speechless.
The entire courtyard had been cleared and filled with tables and chairs. Even the vacant garden next door belonging to his granduncle had been taken over, with twenty to thirty tables set up there alone.
What had gotten into Grandfather?
…
In the main courtyard, Chen Laoye appeared nonchalant as he watered flowers and played with birds.
The steward brought him the menu from Mingyue Restaurant: “The restaurant says it’s too short notice, so they could only procure these ingredients.”
Chen Laoye glanced at it and instructed: “The food isn’t important. What matters is that all the invitations must be delivered.”
Zhao Shi hurried out from the room: “Are you really going through with this?”
Chen Laoye snorted: “If I don’t teach them a lesson today, I’ll stop using the Chen surname.”
Zhao Shi knew her husband usually had a clay-like temperament – easily molded and shaped – but once this honest man was provoked beyond endurance, not even nine oxen could pull him back.
Last night, Chen Laoye had taken the silver notes and urged his wife to rest first, then sat alone in the main hall throughout the night. At daybreak, having worn out one writing brush, he pointed at the mountain of invitation letters piled on the table and ordered them delivered to every household, along with placing an order for fifty tables at Mingyue Restaurant.
Within two hours, he wanted to see all relatives and friends throughout Shengyang County.
Soon, the county’s gentry, wealthy families, officials observing mourning leave, renowned scholars and intellectuals… all received two invitations:
North Chen hosting a cleansing banquet for the second branch’s eldest son Chen Pingye upon his release from prison;
South Chen’s main branch eldest grandson Chen Yan ranking first in the Supplementary Imperial Examination.
Ah, so the two families were competing again.
Faced with this conflict, any sensible person would know which to choose. Chen Yan was famously known as a child prodigy across the region – his success in the imperial examinations was practically guaranteed. If not now, when would be a better time to befriend him?
As for North Chen’s cleansing banquet, one might drop by for some fun if free, but it wasn’t worth conflicting with more important matters.
Mingyue Restaurant was one of Shengan City’s most upscale establishments, known for sticking to principles in business and generally refusing rush orders – unless offered extra payment.
With Chen Laoye being essentially a walking money bag who casually offered generous terms, Mingyue Restaurant worked from dawn until noon, buying out the best ingredients from the morning market. Through various cooking methods – quick-frying, poaching, braising, stewing, pan-frying, and deep-frying – dishes were quickly prepared, plated, and kept warm in large food containers with small copper stoves at the bottom, then delivered continuously to Chen Family Alley.
At first, seeing North Chen’s second branch decorated with lanterns and banners, they headed straight inside.
The lead worker suddenly stopped: “No, no, not this house. It’s the first house across the bridge.”
At the same time, guests began arriving one after another. Old Master Chen made a dazzling entrance wearing a brown Taoist robe of Hu silk, topped with a Black Gauze Dongpo Hat, his three long strands of beard neatly trimmed.
Ping’an, having been too slow to escape, was conscripted by his grandfather to serve as a greeter at the main entrance. His eyes darted around restlessly as he whispered, “Grandfather, my parents seem to have disappeared.”
“Not important. What matters is that the guests have arrived,” Old Master Chen beamed, greeting everyone with a smile.
“But it’s too late to prepare a banquet now,” Ping’an persisted.
Old Master Chen pointed triumphantly toward the entrance.
Ping’an stared dumbfounded as catering staff filed in like a school of fish—he had actually ordered delivery!
The Chen residence was bustling with activity. Distant relatives, close neighbors, colleagues, and schoolmates—anyone within Shengyang County, no matter how remotely connected—had been invited to the feast. The gatekeepers had been instructed not only to refuse gifts but even to admit uninvited freeloaders. What Old Master Chen wanted was crowd energy, grand spectacle, and to witness the furious glare of that damned Third Master from the Northern Chen Family.
Amidst the lively crowd in the southern lane, the northern lane appeared particularly desolate. The Second Branch’s entrance was nearly deserted, with only a few clansmen lingering at the doorway, looking around anxiously.
Some fence-sitters who arrived, seeing everyone had gone to the Southern Chen Family, pretended to be merely passing by and slipped away across the bridge.
A clansman from the Northern Chen Family peeked in and asked, “When will the feast begin?”
Another tugged his sleeve and pulled him aside—how tactless! Couldn’t he see all the guests had been stolen by the Southern Chen Family?
“But our own family still needs to eat.”
“Keep quiet.”
The courtyard stood empty with twenty to thirty sets of tables and chairs arranged in vain. Each table was set with eight platters of meat and vegetable cold dishes, along with individual servings of pastries and fruits, yet everything lay cold and deserted, without a single guest.
Servants stood foolishly glancing at each other, while the hired chefs guarded the prepared ingredients, yawning and swatting flies.
Master Chen the Third, head of the Northern Chen Family, strode briskly inside and headed straight for the main hall. Seeing his embarrassed half-brother Master Chen the Second, he fumed, “I told you not to make a spectacle of yourself, but you wouldn’t listen. How do you plan to handle this now?”
He then glanced at his nephew Chen Pingye standing nearby and lowered his voice, “Since you’re out, focus on living honestly and studying quietly. In a few years, we’ll get you a new identity so you can still take the Imperial Exam. Why make such a scene now? Are you afraid people will forget what happened?”
Master Chen the Second sat slumped in dejection, “I just thought gathering friends and relatives for some celebration might dispel the bad luck. Who knew that old man from the south would steal our thunder?”
“Are you out of your mind?” Master Chen the Third stood up, “Is your son’s imprisonment for murder something to glorify? Should we hold a banquet to celebrate?”
“But there were extenuating circumstances,” Master Chen the Second argued defiantly, “The Meng Family married off a four-month pregnant woman to us. Even someone with the temper of a clay doll couldn’t endure that!”
“If he couldn’t endure it, he should have reported to the elders. With solid evidence, wouldn’t anyone have stood up for him?” retorted Master Chen the Third.
Chen Pingye didn’t dare utter a word, practically burying his head in his chest. His hands trembled violently inside his sleeves, his face growing paler by the minute.
“At the very least, he could have surrendered immediately. The authorities might have shown leniency. But you—murder and hiding the body? Just cause turned into injustice…”
Before Master Chen the Third could finish, a loud thud echoed as Chen Pingye collapsed stiffly to the ground.
Chaos erupted instantly—some loosening his clothing, others pressing his philtrum, some carrying a door plank, others fetching a physician—everyone scrambled into frantic activity.
The Southern Chen Family’s banquet was already in full swing on the south side of the alley, complete with a hired Kunqu opera troupe for entertainment. The performers were singing: “I fear the world’s affairs remain ambiguous in many matters, while human sentiments conceal two or three parts.”
Cups clinked and toasts flowed as hosts and guests reveled in merriment, yet the guest of honor was nowhere to be seen—he had failed to appear from start to finish.
…
Upon hearing that his father was hosting a lavish feast, Chen Yan didn’t give it much thought. After all, his father was always flamboyant, fond of bustle and flattery. To avoid awkwardness, Chen Yan immediately took a day off, taking his wife by carriage to the outskirts for a leisurely outing, steering clear of the commotion.
Why didn’t he bring Ping’an? Because the boy had insisted on joining the excitement, only to be forcibly recruited as an extra hand. To make a swift escape, the two had no choice but to “sacrifice a limb to save the whole”—abandoning Ping’an to his fate.
This was Old Master Chen’s stratagem of killing two birds with one stone: humiliating the Northern Chen Family while successfully diverting Chen Yan.
Even Zhao Shi was somewhat impressed.
By the time the guests had dispersed, sated and satisfied, only a mess of tables, chairs, cups, and plates remained. The manager of Mingyue Restaurant arrived with an itemized bill—fifty tables totaled one hundred seventy-eight taels. After calculating, Old Master Chen realized he’d still profited by one hundred twenty-two taels!
The steward Chen Shou returned from gathering news at the Northern Chen Family, his voice tinged with excitement as he gestured animatedly: “Over there, only a dozen or so relatives were chatting in the courtyard—they didn’t even set out a feast. Their Third Master had a face as long as a horse, pointing and cursing at Second Master Xiu and Young Master Pingye. Young Master Pingye’s eyes rolled back, and he fainted on the spot. A physician had to be called, and the banquet was called off.”
Old Master Chen was overjoyed at the news, and Zhao Shi also felt a surge of vindication: “Serves them right! Let them shield each other as officials and treat human lives like grass—their retribution is yet to come.”
“Master, Madam!” A panting servant from the front courtyard rushed into the main hall: “Trouble—a fight has broken out!”
Old Master Chen, still clutching his effortlessly earned pocket money and unable to suppress a grin, asked cheerfully, “Who’s fighting?”
“The young masters from the Second and Third Masters’ families, along with some from the Northern Chen Family, are brawling on the bridge with sentry sticks and stone bags.”
Zhao Shi sprang to her feet, pulling Old Master Chen up with her: “Quick, let’s go see! Children don’t know their own strength—we can’t let anyone get killed.”
Old Master Chen wore an expression of extreme self-preservation, shaking his head: “Those half-grown boys are stronger than I am. What if I get hurt…”
Zhao Shi sighed in exasperation, then suddenly remembered Ping’an, whom she hadn’t seen in a while, and asked anxiously, “Where’s An Ge’er?”
Chen Shou replied, “He went to watch the excitement.”
“What excitement is he watching?!” Only then did Old Master Chen grow alarmed. He summoned several sturdy male servants and hurried out the main gate.
Chen Shou rushed after him: “Master, don’t worry—someone is with him.”
…
When Old Master Chen arrived breathlessly at the scene, he found the small bridge in chaos—young hooligans were sprawled everywhere, moaning and groaning. Only Jiu Huan and Mo Lu stood at the bridgehead, sentry sticks in hand. He stared in bewilderment until a small head popped out between them—Ping’an’s.
Just then, elders from both families arrived one after another, rushing onto the bridge to check on their sons and grandsons.
“Grandfather!” Ping’an ran toward Old Master Chen.
Trembling with delayed fear, Old Master Chen pulled him close and inspected him carefully: “Are you hurt?”
“Not at all. I came to break up the fight.” Ping’an pointed at the clan brothers lying haphazardly across the ground: “See? They’ve all stopped fighting.”
Old Master Chen: “…”
Indeed, they had stopped—they could barely even stand up.