Chapter 265
Chapter 265
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Translator: Ace
Chapter:
Chapter Title: The Grand Entrance and Father-Son Reunion
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Sun Yisheng had never been quite so high-profile in his entire life.
He was a ninth-rank minor official. In West Capital, he was the very definition of an insignificant bureaucrat. On a normal day out and about, hardly anyone spared him a second glance.
But today, he felt the eyes of thousands upon him. It left him dizzy and his heart pounding.
Walking under the ceremonial parasol as they entered the capital, however, Chen Shi carried a very different mindset.
"My grandpa killed a lot of people here. They called him the West Capital Butcher," he said to Sun Yisheng.
Sun Yisheng shuddered. All thoughts of basking in the crowd's attention vanished in an instant.
"Young Master, please—never speak of it again! Lord Chen Tang has faced no small amount of enmity because of that incident."
Chen Shi shrugged it off.
At that moment, a voice rang out from the crowd: "That's the child scholar. A man who's been dead for eleven years."
Chen Shi turned toward the source of the voice.
Heads crowded together everywhere. Many people stared at their group of incoming provincial scholars, but he couldn't pick out the speaker amid the throng.
Over 260 provincial scholars from every corner of West Ox New Continent, arriving together—it was a rarity in West Capital's history.
What they saw most often were the scions of great clans, surrounded by crowds of servants and retainers like the moon held aloft by a thousand stars.
But this group of scholars entering West Capital looked weathered and travel-worn. Some bore the scars of old wounds.
Yet their vitality and spirit were remarkably keen, untouched by the world's filth.
"He's come back to life."
Whispers rose from the crowd.
"A man who should have died long ago. Resurrected three years back, now come to West Capital in search of his supreme Divine Embryo."
Chen Shi swept his gaze across the faces.
Too many to count. He even spotted big-eared Heavenly Listeners crouched on rooftops, arms flailing as they scribbled notes at top speed.
Countless eyes fixed on him. He could even sense their owners' emotions.
Curiosity. Hostility. Doubt. Admiration...
Chen Shi withdrew his gaze. He stopped hunting for the whisperers.
"Before you even set foot in West Capital, plenty of people here already knew your name," Sun Yisheng told him.
"Your every move is going to draw eyes."
The provincial scholars' arrival prompted the Prefect of Reverent Heaven Prefecture to come greet them in person.
He ushered the group inside for some pleasantries.
A crowd already waited outside the prefecture offices, holding up signs and craning their necks in anticipation of the scholars' emergence.
Moments later, the Prefect saw them out, beaming.
"Gentlemen, as you settle in West Capital, your hometown association members will be waiting at your lodgings to welcome you. Head to your provincial guild halls—they're safe havens where you can await the examinations in peace. This prefecture wishes you all gold-list glory in advance!"
He swept into a deep bow. The scholars hurriedly returned it.
Stepping out of Reverent Heaven Prefecture, they found the crowd with their signs just as promised: New Township, Gong Province, Constitution Province, and more.
Everyone located their provincial group—then came to bid Chen Shi farewell.
The Reverent Heaven Prefect watched in astonishment as each scholar bowed deeply to Chen Shi before departing. Some even rushed forward to kowtow twice, heedless of whether he accepted the gesture.
"Chen Jieyuan, heading to the New Township guild hall?"
Hu Feifei asked Chen Shi. She held little Nannan's hand, gazing up at him hopefully, clearly wishing he'd stay with them.
Chen Shi shook his head and politely declined.
"I still need to go find Chen Tang."
He turned to leave with Sun Yisheng when the Prefect's voice rang out: "Chen Jieyuan, a moment, if you please."
Chen Shi halted.
The Prefect's eyes were mild, his expression kindly as he smiled at him.
"Chen Jieyuan, you may not realize—this isn't New Township. Back home, the sky's high, the emperor's far away. Commit a minor offense, and someone'll smooth it over for you. But West Capital? It's dragons lurking, tigers couching. Even a local hegemon becomes a lowly worm here. Best to keep your head down—lest disaster strike."
Sun Yisheng's heart clenched.
The Prefect's words carried a clear warning. In New Township, Chen Shi might be a dragon. Here? Not even a snake. Better not stir up trouble.
Sun Yisheng had seen enough of Chen Shi's temperament on the road: hot-blooded, short on tact. He couldn't help worrying the young man would land in hot water.
Chen Shi's face grew solemn.
"I take the Prefect's lesson to heart."
Sun Yisheng blinked.
"He didn't push back?"
The Prefect nodded, pleased.
"Go on, then. Stay out of trouble. If it lands in my hands, I won't show favoritism."
Chen Shi assented.
Sun Yisheng thought to himself: "The Reverent Heaven Prefect's got backbone. He knows how many governors have died on account of Young Master Chen—and still says such steel words right to his face. Impressive."
Chen Shi started to leave, then paused as if remembering something.
"Student still doesn't know the Lord's name."
"This prefect is Xia Jiuge."
Chen Shi praised: "A fine name, Lord Xia. Are you kin to Xia Weiyin and Xia Chuli?"
Reverent Heaven Prefect Xia Jiuge's expression soured.
Xia Weiyin and Xia Chuli were already two dead men.
"Kinsmen," he said, face darkening slightly.
Chen Shi praised: "A fine name indeed, Lord."
With that, he departed alongside Sun Yisheng.
Prefect Xia Jiuge watched him go, convinced that dog of Chen Shi's had given him two extra glances.
Following Sun Yisheng's directions, Chen Shi led Blackie Pot and the wooden cart into West Capital's inner city.
West Capital split into inner and outer cities. The inner held the grand mansions of high officials and the imperial palace. The outer was home to visiting officials and common folk. The two were worlds apart.
As a third-rank official, Chen Tang merited a residence here—some dozen-odd rooms.
Drop any lower, and you'd be no "grandee," booted to the outer city.
Once inside the inner city with Sun Yisheng, Chen Shi noted how much quieter it was. Plenty of carriages came and went, but they yielded space gracefully, never crowding.
Even in a jam, drivers would halt and wait patiently for those ahead to pass.
In the outer city, such snags turned raucous—fights weren't uncommon.
Before long, they reached a walled compound. Sun Yisheng said: "Here we are, Young Master Chen."
Chen Shi's body went rigid. He stopped short, eyeing the place.
Nervous, yet feigning nonchalance.
The compound boasted a main gate flanked by a side entrance. Stone pedestals shaped like bookcases stood sentinel left and right, proclaiming it the home of a literary official. An open space fronted the doors for parking carriages.
The wooden cart trundled over on its own and parked neatly.
Just then, raindrops began pattering from the sky. The cart unfurled its canopy against the wet. Blackie Pot scampered underneath to shelter.
Propped on his cane, Sun Yisheng hobbled up the three steps and rapped on the door.
Chen Shi hovered close by, absently rubbing his hands until his knuckles whitened.
"Easy now," Sun Yisheng said.
"You've been cool as ice the whole trip."
"I'm fine," Chen Shi said, neck stiff with tension.
The door swung open.
A servant in his thirties or forties answered. He recognized Sun Yisheng and ushered him in.
"Lord Sun—this the young master?"
The servant wore a black cap as he asked.
"Call him Young Master," Sun Yisheng said.
"Young Master," the servant echoed.
Chen Shi nodded curtly.
He agonized over whether to lead with his left foot or right upon entering.
Sun Yisheng glanced back, surprised.
"Young Master? Come on in."
Chen Shi assented—and promptly hopped over the threshold, both feet launching at once.
"Too damn nervous," he thought, chagrined.
"I shouldn't be like this. Chen Tang doesn't claim me, I don't claim him. I'll see him, then head to the New Township guild hall."
The servant shot a puzzled look at the odd entrance. Sun Yisheng murmured: "New Township custom—first time through the door, both feet together."
The servant, never having been to New Township, took it at face value.
Chen Shi nearly marched off same hand and foot. He halted, steadied his breathing, and resumed walking properly.
Glancing about helped distract him. The tension eased.
The courtyard was modest—a two-courtyard setup. Front housed guest rooms and receiving areas, plus a pair of kitchens and storerooms. Rear was for the family's repose.
Small as a sparrow, but fully equipped. Covered walkways linked front and back. Landscaped features graced both courts. Rear boasted a rockery, fish pond, a few pines, and crape myrtle trees.
Few people about. Chen Shi spotted two or three maids and servants.
Sun Yisheng limped with his cane to the main hall in the rear courtyard and bade him sit.
"Have a seat. I'll go inform Lord Chen."
Chen Shi nodded faintly and took a chair. It felt cool against him. He shifted position and surveyed the room.
This was no receiving hall, but a family space for meals, worship, and ancestral rites.
A sturdy square table dominated, surrounded by round stools.
Behind it, a long altar table about seven feet in length.
At its center stood a spirit tablet: "Spirit Position of the Late Father Chen, Taboo Name Yindu, Mansion Lord, Reborn in the Western Lotus."
A modest incense burner sat before the tablet, its bowl brimming with cold ash.
Chen Shi looked away.
Fresh fruits adorned the altar—recently placed.
On the table's far side rested a treasured sword, with its own incense burner. Fragrant smoke still curled from it, drifting toward the blade.
The sword radiated potent extraordinary energy—clearly the object of years of rites.
A landscape scroll hung behind the altar table.
The mountains depicted were surely Qianyang Mountain—rendered in exquisite detail.
Chen Shi even spotted the great serpent coiling around one peak.
To steady his nerves, he drew closer, hunting for Huangpo Village.
There it was, village rendered plain as day. Nearby, on the yellow earth slope, stood a crooked-neck old willow.
Most startling of all: a hanged ghost dangled from its branches!
"Chen Tang's seen Scholar Zhu too!" Chen Shi marveled inwardly.
Even more shocking—the figure beneath the tree. A scholar by his look, head tilted up as if conversing with the dangling specter.
"Who's that?"
Grandpa?
Or Little Five the creation?
Or... Chen Tang himself?
Sun Yisheng waited patiently in the front hall. The servant had dashed off to the Ministry of Revenue offices to fetch Chen Tang.
As a cultivator himself, aided by a Galloping Horse Talisman, he must have reached his master by now.
Another incense stick's worth of time passed. Footsteps approached from outside.
Sun Yisheng turned to see a middle-aged official stride in. His red court robes were still on, hat askew.
He bowed hastily: "Lord Chen, this lowly official has not failed you. I've brought the young master home!"
Chen Tang hurried forward, steadying him and guiding him to a seat.
He checked Sun Yisheng's injuries first. Finding no lasting harm, he exhaled in relief.
"Yisheng, you've endured too much this time! Without you, Chen Shi would've likely perished en route. I... I have no way to repay you!"
He straightened and bowed low to the ground.
Sun Yisheng returned the courtesy with a wry smile.
"Don't thank me. Even without my help, your son would've made it to West Capital alive—probably faster, even. Truth be told, I didn't contribute much along the way..."
His expression turned peculiar.
Aside from his injuries, he'd mostly enjoyed Chen Shi's spirit medicines and Blackie Pot's healing. The rest? Eating, drinking... and a horde of provincial scholars clustered around him daily, checking his wounds, begging him not to die.
Chen Tang blinked, baffled.
Sun Yisheng grinned.
"Your son's waiting in the main hall. We've plenty of time to chat later—go to him!"
Chen Tang replied flatly: "He's not my son. My son is dead... Tell me, Yisheng—what sort of man is he?"
Sun Yisheng paused, then answered honestly.
"An honest lad. Steady. Mature. Generous. Proper. Kindhearted. Righteous to a fault. Not a single flaw I can name."
He hesitated, face troubled.
"But..."
He suspected Chen Shi had put on an act just for him.
"But what?" Chen Tang pressed.
Sun Yisheng shooed him toward the door, chuckling.
"Go on! Don't keep the boy waiting!"
Chen Tang exited the front hall.
Sun Yisheng watched him head rearward—and saw his steps grow awkward, hands and feet at odds.
Sun Yisheng coughed discreetly. Chen Tang noticed his tension, breathed deep, and regained his poise.
"Fetch Madam," he told a passing maid.
She hurried off.
Chen Tang paused at the main hall's threshold for a long moment.
Then he stepped inside.
Chen Shi turned.
A sturdy middle-aged man in official robes stood at the doorway. Tall and upright, dignified in bearing.
He resembled Grandpa—if decades younger.
The man's gaze held layers of complexity as he regarded Chen Shi.
Silence stretched.
Chen Shi had rehearsed this encounter a thousand times in his mind.
Every scenario: barbed words exchanged, even violence erupting, Chen Tang slain.
But faced with the reality, an unexpected calm settled over him. All his imagined dramas evaporated.
Grandpa had raised him. He yearned for a father's warmth.
Whatever Chen Tang had said or done before—as long as he acknowledged this son, Chen Shi would stay. Would call him Father.
Chen Tang crossed to a chair by the wall and sat.
"Sit."
Chen Shi obeyed, hands rubbing furiously once more. Knuckles gleamed white.
"West Capital's too far. You endured much hardship. I'm glad you arrived safely."
Chen Tang eyed the fidgeting hands and continued on his own.
"When your grandpa passed, I couldn't return. Too distant—from West Capital to Qianyang Mountain. I couldn't make it in time. After he was gone, I reflected deeply. He was obstinate, true... but I'm no better. I was wrong too..."
A hard lump of ice in Chen Shi's chest began to thaw.
He stopped rubbing. Just pinched his fingers, silent.
Chen Tang fell quiet for a beat.
"You can live here as long as you like."
A pause.
"But I won't recognize you as my son."
Chen Shi's fist clenched vise-tight. His heart iced over anew.
"I won't claim you," Chen Tang went on.
"My Little Ten is dead. I laid him in the coffin myself. Tiny body, barely dozens of pounds. My Little Ten died eleven years ago... I don't know who you are. But I'll treat you as my son all the same..."
"The hell I care!"
Chen Shi surged to his feet and slammed the table.
It shattered between them with a crash.
"Staying here's miserable—I'm off to the New Township guild hall!"
Nameless rage flared in Chen Tang. He longed to slap the table—but it lay in splinters, courtesy of Chen Shi.
He shot up, roaring: "You dare call me 'old man' to my face? Is that how Chen Yindu raised you? Lawless whelp!"
Chen Shi snarled back: "You think you can utter Chen Yindu's name? Call him Dad!"
"You insolent cur!"
Chen Tang's hands shook with fury. He raised one to strike—then checked himself.
They locked glares, bodies inches apart. Fists balled.
Chen Shi snorted and shoved past him, storming for the Chen residence gates.
He had just cleared the main hall doors when a maid pushed a wooden wheelchair along the covered walkway.
A woman sat upon it, dressed neatly, hands folded in her lap.
Chen Shi froze, body quaking.
Huangpo Village's old Chen family chest held a full-family portrait.
This woman was in it.
Back then, child-self on Grandpa's knee. She and Chen Tang stood behind.
She'd worn a smile.
But now, the woman in the chair was vacant, idiotic. Eyes dull and unfocused.
Her soul seemed vanished—gone for ages.
Only the shell lived on.
Chen Tang emerged from the hall and hastened to her side.
He dropped to a squat by the wheelchair, clasping her hands. A rare smile softened his face.
"Ru Ru. The boy's home."
Gone was any severity in his voice. Only tenderness remained.
"Look at him. See? It's the boy come back. Ru Ru, look—it's Little Ten. Just like all those years ago."