Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter Fifty-Four: Someone Gazes Toward Chang'an

Chen Chang'an's gaze wandered between Zhu Jiawen, who had just endured a brutal beating, and several Eight Immortals Tavern staff members with their sleeves rolled up, arms exposed. He began to speculate.

Dining without paying?
That couldn’t be right—his second brother-in-law, a scholar of the classics, would never act so shamelessly.

He crouched down, took Zhu Jiawen’s hand, and asked, "What happened? Why are you out so late and not home?"

Zhu Jiawen, dazed and seeing stars, barely recognized he was being held by a woman with her hair styled in a swirling bun and dressed in a skirt. He struggled desperately, terror written all over his face as if he’d touched filth. "Miss, let go quickly!"

"Hurry and let go, men and women shouldn’t touch—this is Chang'an City, and I am already married. As a man of letters, how could I—"

Annoyed, Chen Chang'an pressed his hand flat against her own chest, smooth as if flattened by a road roller.

"Ah!"
Zhu Jiawen’s features contorted in agony, his scream piercing the air before he fainted dead away, as if struck by a bullet.

Chen Chang'an was speechless. "Just because there’s no padding, no tangerine feel, is it really that bad?"

"Jiawen, what are you trying to do? Jiawen, are you alright?"

As soon as she finished, Su Wanqing, her delicate brows furrowed in worry, rushed out from inside, lifting her skirt and hurrying to help Zhu Jiawen. She shook him and called anxiously, "Jiawen… what happened? Wake up!"

Her gaze shifted and suddenly caught sight of Chen Chang'an in women's clothing. Her pupils dilated. "Chen… Th-third brother-in-law, why are you dressed like this?"

Ever since Chen Chang'an had made outstanding contributions to the Su family’s city household, their attitude had unconsciously grown warmer, their address more intimate.

Chen Chang'an nodded. "Yes, it’s me. Just playing around!"

Simple and direct.

Su Wanqing gritted her teeth, pointing at the Eight Immortals Tavern staff. "Why did Jiawen faint? Did you hit him?"

Chen Chang'an, never one to shy from trouble, replied honestly, "Oh, he accidentally touched a lady’s chest just now. Maybe it was too big—it scared him unconscious."

Su Wanqing looked down thoughtfully at her own modest peaks. "…"

"Forget that for now—what’s going on with you all? Why were you thrown out? Second brother-in-law didn’t touch a girl inside, did he?" Chen Chang'an cut off her spiraling emotions.

Su Wanqing stomped her foot and shrilled, "Jiawen is not that kind of person!"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Chen Chang'an echoed.

Su Wanqing flung her sleeves in anger. "No, he isn’t!"

Chen Chang'an nodded rapidly. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Suddenly, Su Wanqing reached out with both hands and grabbed Chen’s neck. "I said Jiawen isn’t that kind of person! He isn’t!"

Chen Chang'an looked aggrieved. "I mean, you’re right, Second Sister—yes, yes, yes!"

After a pause, he added, "Just as you said, Second brother-in-law isn’t."

---

Su Wanqing, on the verge of collapse, tugged at her lips, twitching for a while before her eyes brightened and her expression shifted to a sly smile. "Little… little brother-in-law, did you bring any money? Here’s the situation: our whole family came to eat at Eight Immortals Tavern, and our purse was stolen."

"The meal should cost about eight taels of silver, so…"
She didn’t finish her sentence, but gestured toward several staff members, whose faces clearly read, "You owe me."

Chen Chang'an shook his head, crisp and decisive. "No money!"

Before Second Sister Su Wanqing could curse, he pointed to Princess Changning’s carriage nearby. "But she probably does!"

It was late, and most of Chang'an’s wards had extinguished their lanterns. Only a few shops, taking advantage of the festival night without curfew, kept their candles burning, casting dim light.

Su Wanqing didn’t recognize the carriage as Changning’s. "Who’s she?"

Chen Chang'an replied cheekily, "She’s rich!"

He walked to the carriage, lifted the curtain, and said, "Your Highness, lend me nine taels of silver."

Changning’s long lashes fluttered, two enormous question marks in her bright eyes. "Nine taels? I recall the red date cake at Eight Immortals sells for one tael, doesn’t it?"

Chen gritted his teeth. "Exactly! I remember it’s one tael too, but today, with the festival crowd, they suddenly raised the price to nine taels—shameless profiteers."

Changning slammed her fist against the carriage wall in anger. "Eight Immortals is getting more outrageous. I’ll have the capital prefecture deal with them someday!"

She reached into her embroidered lotus and phoenix purse and pulled out exactly nine taels, handing them over. "Here you go!"

"Alright!"
Chen Chang'an took the money and swaggered back to the tavern entrance, tossing nine white silver flowers at the staff’s feet. "Eight taels for their meal, and one tael for the red date cake."

"Right away, sir! Coming up!"
The staff, no longer as arrogant as before, immediately lowered their stance and served respectfully.

Su Wanqing raised her hand and smacked her forehead. "Who said we had no money? Who said we’re deadbeats in Chang'an? Who said we dine and dash?"

What a temper—three rapid-fire outbursts.

Except for the one who ran to the front desk with the silver to settle the bill and pack the cake, the remaining staff bowed their heads, accepting Su Wanqing’s scolding.

Inside, Su Qingtang and Qin Fuluo, hearing the glorious news that the bill was paid, led their daughter Su Wanqiu out, heads held high, glaring at the tavern staff as if their eyes could kill.

"You people! What did you say just now? Said I had no money? Huh? Just look at these clothes—do I look like someone who’s broke?"

"You even wanted to pawn all my cosmetics, gold, and jewelry—try pawning them, I dare you!"

"…"

"…"

Chen Chang'an’s eardrums buzzed, thoroughly irritated. Not even the loudest plaza-dancing aunties in his past life could match his mother-in-law’s noisy tirade.

For peace, he went inside to fetch the red date cake and change out of his women’s clothes, deliberately lingering for over ten minutes. When he came out, Qin Fuluo was still haranguing with hands on her hips.

---

Shaking his head, Chen Chang'an detoured to the carriage, hands cradling the red date cake as he offered it through the curtain.

Changning asked from inside, "Aren’t you coming back together?"

Chen Chang'an made something up. "I have a friend here—we’re going to stroll a bit."

"Alright, I’ll head off then!"

She gestured, and the coachman drove the carriage northward, wheels rumbling away.

Chen Chang'an watched until it disappeared, then turned to the family still engaged in moral education at the tavern entrance, wondering about his brother-in-law. If that white-robed swordsman who drew his blade to kill dogs were here, dining without paying might really be possible.

He waited until Qin Fuluo, his mother-in-law, had scolded herself hoarse before interjecting, "Come on, it’s just a little matter in the middle of the night. Let’s go home and rest."

Upon hearing from Su Wanqing that the meal was paid by Chen Chang'an, Qin Fuluo, pleased, said, "Alright, with a worthy son-in-law speaking up, I won’t bother with you lot anymore. Let’s go home!"

You’ve been at it for half an hour, thought Chen Chang'an, silently complaining.

At this moment, Su Wanqiu, Qin Fuluo, Su Wanqing, and Su Qingtang all fixed their gazes on him, each with a different light in their eyes. Yet, in unison, they asked, "You… you can see now?"

"Yes, I now…"

"Ah!"
Just as Chen Chang'an had prepared to announce his regained sight to the world, the nerve connecting his eyeball to his brain suddenly throbbed violently, followed by a surge of pain throughout his body.

Damn, the timer’s up.

He clutched his head, rolled on the ground, quickly wrapped his eyes with cloth, and spoke in a pitiful tone, "No… I can’t see anything."

"I’m still the same blind man as before, unchanged."

The Su family: "…"

…

Meanwhile, in a room at the Yuelai Inn in Shengping Ward, a tall man in a loose black robe stood before a window opened to face Dayang Palace. At his waist hung a slender, curved blade, and he wore wooden clogs.

Beside him stood two graceful women with willow-slim waists, both with elegant Tomoe-style hair buns and wearing tight-fitting Japanese skirts. Their faces were almond-shaped, untouched by makeup yet fair and striking, radiant and alluring.

The man, back still turned to them, spoke, "Haruko, Sakura, what do you two think of Great Min, and of Chang'an?"

The woman on the left replied, her voice like the clear ringing of jade pendants, "Utterly magnificent."

The woman on the right answered irrelevantly, "The men of Chang'an are all so handsome!"

"Hahaha!"
The man laughed heartily, revealing a face with prominent bones and thin flesh, chewing his words with a full island accent. "If only… Chang'an were ours—how wonderful that would be!"