Volume One, Chapter 19: Another Cliffhanger?! The Proud Heiress Forced to Spend Lavishly on the Spot!

Chen Pingchuan merely bowed his head, adopting a look of earnest humility, but inwardly his thoughts ran on a different track. When a tree stands out in the forest, the wind will surely break it; when a person’s conduct surpasses others, he will inevitably draw their censure. Concealing one’s talents, especially in this deep and intricate household, was the only way to survive and secure a place for oneself in the long run.

The only gift he did not bother to hide was his astonishing memory. No matter the length or complexity of the lessons taught by Mr. Fang, he could always recite them flawlessly, without missing a single word. This could still be explained away, albeit reluctantly, as “innate cleverness” or “photographic memory,” a prodigious talent that drew even the well-traveled Mr. Fang to secret admiration.

Observing that Chen Pingchuan spent all his time, aside from diligently serving his young master in study, poring over books and never once slacking in his calligraphy practice, Mr. Fang grew to appreciate the boy’s diligence and determination, so rare for one his age.

“This child’s handwriting may be dreadful,” Mr. Fang mused, twisting his scant goat-like beard, “but with that memory and such industry, perhaps he might one day rise to a steward capable of reading and writing for the household.” Yet, truth be told, he did not pin great hopes on Chen Pingchuan’s future.

Little did he know that years later, whenever he recalled his own shortsightedness, his old face would flush with shame, wishing he could sink into the floor.

…

That afternoon, the air was thick with the incessant chorus of cicadas outside the window, grating on the nerves and making it impossible to rest. Zhang Jinbao could not contain himself any longer; his chubby little hand clung tightly to Chen Pingchuan’s sleeve as he urged him eagerly.

“Big Brother, Big Brother! Tell me about Sun Wukong! After the Monkey King was pressed beneath the mountain, what happened next?” His round, childish face was alive with anxiety and anticipation.

Chen Pingchuan was about to speak when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a fleeting glimpse of a small, pink figure darting past the window lattice.

A barely noticeable smirk curled at the edge of his lips, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Young Master, it seems the young lady is quite interested in this story as well. How about inviting her in to listen?”

Zhang Jinbao paused, following Chen Pingchuan’s gaze out the window. Then his mouth stretched into a simple, honest grin. “My sister wants to listen too? Wonderful! Come in! Big Brother tells stories a hundred times better than the storytellers on the street!”

Caught in the act, Zhang Jingshu reluctantly poked her little head out from behind the window lattice, her rosy mouth twisting with habitual disdain. “Hmph! Who cares about his silly stories?”

Yet as Chen Pingchuan cleared his throat and began, his tone unhurried, “So the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the Handsome Monkey King, was trapped under the Five Elements Mountain by the Buddha. Wind and rain battered him, the years passed—five hundred long ones in a blink of an eye…” a small figure quietly fetched an ornate brocade cushion and settled herself at a proper distance.

In her little hands she held a dish of lotus-petal cakes, nibbling at them as she perked up her ears, her whole being focused, looking for all the world like a clever little fox caught in the act of pilfering treats.

Chen Pingchuan noticed and inwardly chuckled, deliberately lowering his voice until it was as faint as a whisper, so that only Zhang Jinbao, pressed close, could barely make it out.

Sure enough, Zhang Jingshu fell for the trick. When she realized she couldn’t hear the exciting parts, she anxiously inched her cushion closer, little by little, until at last she found herself sitting squarely in front of Chen Pingchuan, quite without realizing it.

That infuriating pageboy was watching her with a hint of a smile, eyes twinkling.

Feigning surprise, Chen Pingchuan raised his eyebrows mockingly. “Oh? I could have sworn you just said you weren’t interested in my ‘silly stories’?”

Instantly, Zhang Jingshu’s cheeks flushed bright red, like a ripe apple on the branch, and even her dainty ears glowed with a lovely blush.

She huffed loudly, trying to cover her embarrassment, and shoved the dish of lotus cakes—most of them untouched—toward Chen Pingchuan with an indignant flourish.

Chin held high, white neck stiff with pride, she declared in a milky voice, “Here! This is your reward! I won’t listen to your stories for nothing!”

The lotus cakes gave off an enticing sweet aroma, their craftsmanship exquisite, but Chen Pingchuan merely glanced at them indifferently.

He reached out and unobtrusively slid the plate toward Zhang Jinbao.

“Young Master, these look delicious. Why don’t you try one first and see if they suit your taste?”

Zhang Jinbao was so caught up in the tale of the Monkey King that he didn’t think twice. He grabbed the largest piece and stuffed it in his mouth, his cheeks bulging as he praised the flavor with muffled enthusiasm. “Mmm… delicious! So good! Big Brother, have some too!”

Chen Pingchuan waited a moment, and, seeing that Zhang Jinbao showed no ill effects, finally picked up a piece and tasted it himself.

Zhang Jingshu, watching his cautious, suspicious behavior, puffed her cheeks in annoyance and glared fiercely at him. “Coward! Stop dawdling! Tell me—what happened next?”

Only then did Chen Pingchuan clear his throat and continue, unhurried, recounting how Tang Sanzang overcame many trials to recruit the Little White Dragon, and how, at the Guanyin Monastery, they faced the thrilling theft of the precious kasaya.

Zhang Jinbao was utterly absorbed, gasping and sighing by turns, lost in the story’s excitement.

Even Zhang Jingshu, usually so proud and aloof, was completely swept up by the twists and turns, her little mouth parted in awe, round black eyes wide with wonder, forgetting even to eat her lotus cake.

When the tale reached the part where the Black Bear Demon of Black Wind Mountain used magic to steal the jeweled kasaya, and Sun Wukong was locked in a fierce battle, Chen Pingchuan suddenly stopped, changing his tone.

“That’s all for today’s story.”

At ease, he lifted the rough porcelain tea bowl from the table and sipped the now-cool tea.

“What? Don’t stop now!” Zhang Jinbao, hanging on every word, let out a wail of disappointment.

Zhang Jingshu leapt to her feet, willow brows arched in protest. “Why did you stop? Did they get the kasaya back? Did Sun Wukong win?”

Chen Pingchuan set down the tea bowl, gently shook his head, and put on the mysterious air of a seasoned storyteller. “To know what happens next, you’ll have to wait for the next installment.”

“You!” Zhang Jingshu’s almond-shaped eyes were wide with indignation as she jabbed a finger at him. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll go straight to my father and say you’re not helping my brother study at all—you just tell these silly ghost stories!”

Chen Pingchuan smiled slightly, spreading his hands in a gesture of indifference. “As you wish, Young Miss. But after that, you’ll never hear truly interesting stories again.”

She froze, her small face turning scarlet. Her eyes spun with calculation, and after a moment’s rummaging in her ornate silk pouch, she fished out a small piece of silver, about half a tael, and slapped it forcefully on the table.

“Stupid pageboy! From now on, I’ll bring you the best pastries from the house every day, and even reward you with silver! Now, tell me the story!”