Chapter 68: Give Brother-in-Law a Strike

Chapter 68: Give My Brother-in-Law a Shot

The following day, the sun shone brightly.

It should have been a sweltering summer day.

Yet within the picturesque Spring Lotus Garden, where the grounds were lush with grass and trees, a pond, and a grove of purple bamboo, a hint of dry heat lingered.

Chen Yi was much improved.

After achieving mastery in martial arts, he had discovered numerous subtle applications of his internal energy, one of which was resisting both cold and heat.

Xiao Gunhe and Xiao Die had suffered the consequences.

Especially Xiao Die, who after rising at midnight, found no moment to spare.

First, she attended to Xiao Gunhe’s morning routine, then helped Chen Yi wash and dress.

With Xiao Jinghong and Su Zhenyue absent from the manor, Pei Menglou also needed her to rouse them, arrange their attire, and prepare the morning meal.

Such tasks were undoubtedly arduous.

Yet Xiao Die found joy in her work.

As a servant in the Hou family since childhood, to earn her masters’ favor and recognition, she felt fortunate to have followed a path of good fortune.

Thus, she was content.

“My lord, how lively the manor has been these days.”

Chen Yi brushed the ceramic bowl of congee, took a sip, and replied, “What sort of liveliness? Those guests should have departed by now, shouldn’t they?”

Four days had passed since the old patriarch’s banquet, and he had remained in the Spring Lotus Garden without venturing out.

It wasn’t out of genuine concern for that calligraphy scroll or the emperor’s edict, but rather because the guests from the city and the manor would take some time to leave.

He simply did not wish to engage in idle pleasantries with unfamiliar faces.

“Half the guests had left the manor yesterday, but Old Duke and Mr. Sun are still here.”

Xiao Die answered his question first, then smiled and added, “My lord, I speak not of the manor, but of the outside world.”

“The entire city of Shu Zhou is now spreading your calligraphy scroll.”

Chen Yi felt no surprise, nodded, and set down the ceramic bowl. He picked up his chopsticks and chewed on a pickled bamboo shoot, crunching contentedly.

Xiao Gunhe, mimicking him, also lifted a bamboo shoot to his mouth.

Then Pei Menglou, stretching her hands, snatched two shoots and popped them into her mouth, her cheeks puffing out like balloons.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Watching the three men, Xiao Die blinked innocently and laughed.

She had known this all along.

A talent like my lord’s would never dwell on such a scroll.

Chen Yi seemed to think the conversation should continue, so he asked, “You continue speaking.”

“……”

Xiao Die pouted, her thoughts drifting to that earlier remark—“The emperor doesn’t hurry, nor should the eunuch.”

That seemed to fit my lord’s demeanor.

Yet she would never provoke him, sitting on the small stool, eyeing the three men as they ate breakfast, chattering away:

“The sons of Shu Zhou’s noble families, upon hearing that the masters of your Grace’s school cherish your calligraphy, have been visiting the manor these past few days.”

“They came not to disturb your Grace, but to pay respects to the old master, seeking to copy your calligraphy.”

“At first, the old master paid them no mind, sending someone to fetch them for copying. But as more arrived, he ordered the steward to bar the entrance, forbidding further visitors.”

“Still, your Grace’s calligraphy has spread far and wide……”

Chen Yi listened as mere amusement.

He understood in his heart that many renowned scholars of the Dali dynasty could compose characters radiating elegance and grace. Such a feat was not particularly rare.

The reason for the commotion lay instead in the refinement of his cursive script.

Its perfection, sufficient to establish a school and leave a legacy, was what drew those people to visit door after door with unending enthusiasm.

Thus, at the banquet that day, the masters from your school had reacted so profoundly.

After finishing breakfast, Chen Yi carried a small bucket and caught several large earthworms. He and Xiao Gunhe continued their contest with the golden carp in the pond.

It was rather strange, really.

Except for Xiao Gunhe, no one else could catch a single golden carp in that pond.

Well, to be precise, it was Chen Yi and Zhang Heng.

Chen Yi was fine—he hadn’t fished in two months, yet still maintained the optimism of an avid angler.

Zhang Heng had fished for days without a single catch, growing increasingly despondent.

Especially after witnessing Xiao Gunhe reel in golden carps one after another, his frustration boiled over. His lower lip jutted out in annoyance.

Pei Menglou, upon hearing this, became instantly intrigued. She planted her fishing rod at a spot nearby and joined the fray.

Yet she was clearly not one to endure boredom.

Within a mere whiff of incense’s time, she grew irritated and tossed her rod aside, muttering about the tediousness.

Her complaint was no different from the young prince’s.

Chen Yi remained unfazed, sitting statue-like on the pavilion railing.

His eyes fixed on the bobber, his eyelids twitching slightly—his peripheral vision caught Xiao Gunhe’s steady success.

To ask what was most humiliating for an angler, one need only consider being at the same pond, the same spot, while others reaped catches and he himself remained empty-handed.

At that moment, Chen Yi’s mood mirrored that sentiment.

When Xiao Gunhe had caught five golden carps in quick succession, even he found it unbearable.

So, as Xiao Gunhe’s bobber twitched once more, and before the large carp surfaced, Chen Yi impulsively seized the rod.

“Brother Gunhe, let me have a go—give me a taste…… no, the fish is strong, let Brother help you.”

Without hesitation, he pulled with all his might, eyes never blinking, waiting for the fish to surface.

Yet his lips curled into a grin, and the hooked golden carp, at the very moment Chen Yi took the rod, wriggled free, breaking the hook’s grip.

Chen Yi’s smile froze midair.

“……”

Xiao Gunhe wanted to laugh but dared not, simply reclaiming his rod.

“Brother, perhaps it’s already had its fill.”

Pei Menglou laughed outright, her form light and airy.

“Brother, it seems even you have your limitations.”

Chen Yi glanced at them all, then calmly retracted his hand, gripping his own rod.

“It’s not that I can’t… it’s just……”

Xiao Gunhe beat him to the reply: “If one wishes to be hooked, is it not so, Brother?”

“……Indeed.”

Damn it, this pond’s carp are definitely up to no good.

When you see someone put down their chopsticks, right?

Alright, alright.

Chen Yi resolved to fetch a fishing net come the afternoon; he simply wouldn’t believe a single net could fail to catch a single fish.

Then he went, as usual, to his study and spent a while penning some words.

Brushing ink freely, no set phrases, just letting his hand wander—mastering the practiced styles of Wei Qing and the flowing script.

Near noon.

Chen Yi gathered his spirits, ready to head to Jiaxing Yard to see how Xiao Wan’er was “reprimanding” the apothecary in charge.

He’d already thought up reasons—lurking for a meal.

But just as he stepped out of the wooden building, several figures appeared in the Spring Lotus Garden.

Who were these people? Duke Qian, Master Sun—who else?

Chen Yi glanced over, letting the trailing Xiao Qiuwen and Zhang Heng pass, then stepped forward with a respectful bow:

“Pleased to meet Duke Qian, Master Sun.”

Xiao Qiuwen, noticing he’d been overlooked, smiled stiffly and said, “My young cousin, how could you not pay respects to your aunt?”

Chen Yi looked at her, suddenly realizing his oversight. “Pleased to meet you, Aunt Qiuwen.”

Xiao Qiuwen was one of Xiao Jinghong’s three aunts—indeed, an elder to him.

Though she was born when Xiao Wangyan was nearly forty, her rank was high, yet her age was only about twenty-six or seven, not much older than them.

“She’s good. Jinghong’s niece has decent fortune.”

Good?

Chen Yi frowned inwardly but said nothing further, curious about their purpose.

Zhang Qian glanced at the two, smiling. “We came uninvited, didn’t we disturb you?”

Chen Yi straightened. “There’s one thing.”

“Hmm.”

Duke Qian’s smile froze on his face, as did Xiao Qiuwen’s.

Sun Fu laughed outright. “Light-hearted cousin, you’re direct, I like that.”

Zhang Qian snapped, “Where’s the liking in it?”

Xiao Qiuwen nodded, her voice a whisper. “Jinghong usually treats you well, doesn’t he?”

“My lady does treat me kindly.”

Of course Chen Yi was blunt; everyone knew why they’d come.

Except for his calligraphy, there was no other business.

Sun Fu saw this and smoothed things over, speaking plainly: “Qiuwen came today with Heng to bid you farewell at Guangyue Court; Jinghong’s away, so Duke Qian wanted them to pass the time with you and relay Jinghong’s news.”

Chen Yi blinked, then nodded. “My mistake, sir. I apologize for my words.”

Zhang Qian merely pointed at him, not buying it.

A slight courtesy, though—he couldn’t quite scold Chen Yi, showing Duke Qian’s ample grace.

Soon he waved them off. “Time’s late. Take Heng home, mind your steps on the road.”

Xiao Qiuwen regained her composure, bowed once, and led Zhang Heng away.

But before they left the corridor, Zhang Heng turned back, calling, “The most shameless marriage-deserter in history—oh, Jingwen—”

Xiao Qiuwen merely gave him a gentle tug, letting him shout.

“—”

Only after they’d vanished did Chen Yi hear no more of Zhang Heng’s voice.

Then he smiled at the two elders. “All settled.”

Hearing this, Zhang Qian’s previously sour face brightened. He laughed, pointing at Chen Yi. “You’re just like your father—a single remark can nearly kill someone’s mood, yet you always find a way to set things right.”

Sun Fu chuckled, shaking his head. “Different, though. Chen Yuanji’s always calm, deeply cunning, never one for playful words.”

On the matter of “father,” Chen Yi held his tongue.

“Enough. If you’ve need, go attend to it. I’ll be with Sun Old Fellow…”

Zhang Qian spotted Xiao Wuge fishing in the pavilion, his eyes lighting up. He tugged Sun Fu. “There’s fish in that pond.”

Chen Yi smiled. “Tell the young lady to serve the wine.”

And with that, he departed for Jiaxing Yard.

Fond of fishing?

Well then, Duke Qian and Master Sun must be on good terms.

This must be the mutual fondness of fishing enthusiasts.

(Chapter Complete)