Chapter 27: An Unwelcome Request

The Chen family resided in the western part of the city. Yi’an walked for about half an hour before he arrived. The Chens were also a renowned family in Hangzhou, so it was easy enough to find their residence.

Yi’an knocked on the door, and to his surprise, it was Master Chen himself who answered. The fact that Chen would greet him personally felt a bit too ceremonious.

With a kindly face, Master Chen said, “At last, my worthy nephew has arrived. I have been waiting for you for quite some time. I hope you don’t mind me addressing you this way.”

“Of course not,” Yi’an replied. “As soon as I received your invitation, I hurried straight here.”

Yi’an had already been suspicious, and seeing how Chen was so eager to draw close, he felt there must be an ulterior motive. He was, after all, just an ordinary licentiate. Even if he had taken first place at the recent literary gathering, it shouldn’t have warranted such attention from an esteemed man like Master Chen. Until he truly made his mark, all such things were fleeting.

Moreover, Master Chen held considerable reputation—so much so that even the Prefect of Hangzhou would have to show him some respect. Even if Yi’an were to achieve great success in the future, to Master Chen it would be nothing more than a flourish atop an already splendid life.

Could it be that Chen had uncovered his association with Master Yinshan and was seeking to curry favor?

“Please, come inside, my worthy nephew. And no more of this ‘Master Chen’—if you would honor me, call me uncle instead.” Master Chen gestured invitingly, smiling all the while.

Yi’an was momentarily speechless, but since the invitation had been so warm, he could hardly refuse. Compared to Wei Liang’s modest home, the Chen residence was vast, boasting dozens of rooms and hundreds of servants. Yi’an could not help but sigh: if a scholar with only the status of a provincial degree holder could amass such wealth, what must the homes of high officials be like?

They entered the receiving hall and, as soon as they were seated, a maid brought fragrant tea.

“In a few days, the provincial exams will begin,” Master Chen said. “How are your preparations going, my worthy nephew?”

“Thank you for your concern, Uncle Chen. I have been studying the classics diligently at home, and I believe I am well prepared,” Yi’an replied.

“Then allow me to wish you victory in the examination,” Master Chen said.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, but Master Chen never seemed to get to the point. Noticing his host’s hesitant manner, Yi’an finally said, “If you have something to say, Uncle Chen, please speak plainly.”

Master Chen chuckled, gratitude in his eyes—he had been struggling to find the right words, and Yi’an had kindly spared him the awkwardness.

“Well, then, I’ll be frank. I invited you here today partly to catch up, but also because there is a matter in which I must trouble you.”

Now that Master Chen had finally come to the point, Yi’an felt a sense of inevitability. He had suspected as much—no feast is ever truly free. Still, as the saying goes, one does not hit a smiling face. If the request was not excessive, it would do no harm to accept, and perhaps even earn some goodwill.

“Please, Uncle, just say the word. If it is within my power, I will not refuse.”

“Then I shall speak. My worthy nephew, you may not know, but I have a rather disappointing son who has been the source of much worry for me. Not long ago, he became infatuated with a courtesan, and since then has had no mind for his studies.” Master Chen sighed—he had even quarreled bitterly with his son over this.

His son, Chen Qingwen, already held the scholar’s degree, and had always benefited from his father’s careful guidance. In the local area, he was somewhat renowned. Master Chen knew his son’s capabilities and had no great expectations. He himself was getting on in years, with only a few good ones left. His sole wish was for Chen Qingwen to take up the mantle of the family and, at the very least, earn the provincial degree so that the family would not decline.

Yi’an paused, realizing now that Master Chen’s interest had nothing to do with Wei Liang, but something else entirely. Especially after hearing Chen’s explanation, Yi’an was tempted to retort: “If even you, his own father, cannot turn him around, what use is it to ask an outsider like me?”

But seeing the genuine concern on Master Chen’s face, he could not bring himself to say such harsh words. All parents in the world are the same at heart.

Master Chen sighed again. “I have tried everything, but that unfilial son of mine remains obstinate, as if his soul has been stolen away. I am at my wits’ end.”

“Have you tried addressing the root of the problem? For instance, you might buy off the courtesan and have her leave him of her own accord. Even if your son is resentful, after a while, he will get over it,” Yi’an suggested.

He did not believe the courtesan to be without desires; as long as she sought something, she could be persuaded.

“If only it were that simple,” Master Chen said, forcing a wry smile. “But this courtesan is from the Drunken Blossom Pavilion…”

He was no fool—of course he had considered that solution. But anyone entangled with the Drunken Blossom Pavilion had to tread very carefully.

Outsiders might not know, but Master Chen was well aware of the pavilion’s power. Not to mention the famous Miss Hong Ying—even the Prefect had countless connections there. If his son’s infatuation was a slow death, then offending the Prefect would be an instant one.

Hearing this, Yi’an’s heart skipped a beat. The name Drunken Blossom Pavilion had come up before, and now it involved Miss Hong Ying as well. If there wasn’t something odd going on, he simply couldn’t believe it.

“Does the Drunken Blossom Pavilion have some special background?” Yi’an asked, his gaze sharp, probing for more information.

“I cannot say for sure, but, my worthy nephew, remember this: unless there is some great profit at stake, it is best to avoid them if you can.” Master Chen did not elaborate, but his answer was suggestive. He trusted Yi’an’s intelligence to understand.

Yi’an nodded. It seemed that the Drunken Blossom Pavilion was no ordinary place, if even Master Chen wanted to keep his distance.

With a face clouded by worry, Master Chen sighed. “Let me be frank. My foolish son told me yesterday that he wanted to seek your advice on poetry. I know this is an imposition, especially since you must prepare for the provincial exam.

“So let us do this: after the exam, when Qingwen comes to you for guidance, I hope you might take the chance to counsel him as well. He won’t listen to a word I say. If you succeed, I will be forever grateful. If not, then I can only blame the depth of his delusion.”

As he had mentioned earlier, ever since Chen Qingwen became obsessed, he had abandoned all study. Only when he expressed a desire to consult Yi’an about poetry did Master Chen feel a flicker of hope.

As long as there was even a spark of hope, Master Chen would not let it go. That was why, using their previous literary gathering as a pretext, he had invited Yi’an to his home.

If only Chen Qingwen could recover, Master Chen would gladly sacrifice his pride.