Chapter 51: You Are a Good Person
Under the waning light of dusk, a sleek black sedan wove through the quiet streets of the villa district, finally rolling to a stop before the gates of Chen Yan’s residence. With a subtle nod from President Fang, his ever-diligent assistant, Yan Zhao Xing, stepped forward and pressed the doorbell. A short while later, the iron gates creaked open, revealing a hunched, wiry old man with an air of antiquity about him.
Both President Fang and Yan Zhao Xing were taken aback.
The man before them was strikingly small in stature, a head shorter than the average person, his thin frame wrapped in an old-fashioned tunic. His deep-set eyes, no larger than soybeans, flickered beneath a sunken brow, and his nose was flat, lending his entire visage a somewhat withdrawn, evasive quality. The traditional garb might have lent another man a distinguished air, yet on him, it seemed strangely out of place.
“And you are?” The old man’s voice carried an archaic cadence, measured and deliberate.
President Fang remained silent, allowing Yan Zhao Xing to step forward with a courteous bow. “We are here to pay our respects to Mr. Chen Yan.”
“Oh, the young master’s guests, are you?” The old man, Gui Geng, nodded, his movements reminiscent of a cautious turtle withdrawing its head. “The young master is not at home. He has business to attend to.”
Young master?
President Fang and Yan Zhao Xing exchanged puzzled glances.
In this era, where only those of truly ancient aristocratic lineage clung to such antiquated forms of address, hearing Chen Yan referred to as “young master” felt almost surreal.
“Sir, might I ask… are you Mr. Chen’s elder?” Yan Zhao Xing probed cautiously.
“I would not dare presume such a thing. I am merely a steward.” Gui Geng shook his head, his expression unreadable.
A steward?
This Chen Yan, it seemed, was no ordinary man. A young master, with a steward? President Fang gave Yan Zhao Xing a sidelong glance. The assistant subtly shook his head, indicating that on his last visit, no such figure had been present in the household.
Despite being a turtle cultivator, Gui Geng seemed to fit the role of a steward perfectly. He cleared his throat. “Since you are honored guests of the young master, please, come inside. Though he is away, the Lady of the House is present.”
Lady of the House?
President Fang and Yan Zhao Xing found themselves even more bewildered. Was Mr. Chen’s mother now residing here?
The title carried a weight of nobility, evoking images of an imposing matriarch presiding over the household. Smiling smoothly, President Fang replied, “If the esteemed elder of the house is present, it would be most discourteous of us not to pay our respects.”
Gui Geng stepped aside, allowing the guests to enter. President Fang limped through the gate, while Yan Zhao Xing motioned for Gui Geng to fully open the entrance, enabling their driver to reverse the vehicle inside. Meanwhile, the chauffeur began unloading the meticulously prepared gifts from the trunk.
The trio passed through the courtyard, reaching the villa’s grand doors. The moment they stepped into the foyer, their eyes were drawn toward the seating area, where a delicate figure reclined on the sofa.
President Fang froze mid-step.
With an easy smile, Gui Geng stepped forward, addressing the seated figure with due reverence. “Lady of the House, you have visitors. They are acquaintances of Young Master Chen Yan.”
The young woman turned, her large, luminous eyes flickering with a trace of tension as she took in the strangers at her threshold.
Seated cross-legged, Gu Qing Yi held a steaming bowl of instant noodles in her left hand and a pair of chopsticks in her right. As she took in the sight of President Fang, her grip tightened instinctively.
President Fang was stunned.
Not from infatuation, but sheer disbelief.
This was the Lady of the House?
Though he had little formal education, President Fang had spent years rubbing shoulders with those who styled themselves after the ancient ways of the Xuan Sect. He understood the gravity of such titles.
A mere girl… the Lady of the House?
Judging by her youthful appearance, the idea that she could have a son as old as Chen Yan defied all logic. Impossible.
If she was Chen Yan’s wife, then etiquette dictated she be addressed as the Young Mistress, not the Lady of the House.
Lost in his musings, the sharp-witted President Fang found himself momentarily speechless.
Meanwhile, Gu Qing Yi noisily slurped down a mouthful of noodles, tilting her head back to swallow before hastily setting the bowl and chopsticks aside. Taking a deep breath, she assumed an air of calm authority.
Feigning composure, she asked, “So, you are guests of Chen Yan? Please, come in.”
Her words jolted President Fang back to reality. Forcing a polite chuckle, he stepped into the living room.
Seated stiffly on the sofa, Gu Qing Yi fixed President Fang with an unwavering gaze, only to subtly adjust her posture—slowly uncrossing her legs and placing her feet neatly on the floor.
Once, in the internet café, she had been indifferent to the presence of strangers. But now, things were different.
Because this time… she was his legitimate mother.
[How does a legitimate mother conduct herself?]
[How should I introduce myself?]
Even Gu Qing Yi was at a loss.
Clearing her throat, she stole a glance at Gui Geng before issuing a command in what she hoped was a stately manner. “Go. Bring tea for our guests.”
President Fang’s ears twitched slightly at the sound of her voice. So sweet! Yet… was that a hint of an accent from the Eastern Three Prefectures?
Meanwhile, Gui Geng blinked.
She wants me to do what?
Today, I finally mastered the art of wielding the dust-absorbing contraption.
Brewing tea? Impossible!
“No need, no need, truly no need to trouble yourself. I shall sit for a moment and then take my leave.”
Master Fang waved his hand hastily, settling onto the embroidered seat. His gaze swept over Gu Qing Yi, and as his breath steadied, he appraised the young woman before him. Despite his experience in discerning the nature of men and women alike, even he could not help but feel a jolt of astonishment.
Such a lady—she would be a fine match for that capable Teacher Chen…
But… what was this about a House Matriarch?
Were the young ones of this era truly so audacious in their games? Was this merely another layer of their so-called “play”?
Master Fang’s thoughts swirled, but he dared not voice them. If he did, he feared he might not step out of this chamber alive.
“Ah… My surname is Fang,” he finally said with a genial smile. “I am an old friend of Mister Chen Yan. Not long ago, he offered me great assistance. And since the New Year draws near, I prepared some seasonal tributes as a token of my gratitude. A meager gift, really—”
“Very well, Gui Geng, bring them in.”
Hmm?
Master Fang had not even finished his polite refusals when the matter was settled so decisively.
A rather straightforward character, it seemed.
“May I ask, when will Mister Chen Yan return?”
“I do not know,” Gu Qing Yi replied, shaking her head. “He went to purchase some necessities. By reason, he should be back by supper.”
Her eyes flickered toward the electronic timepiece atop the small tea table, a hint of dissatisfaction in her gaze.
That man had been out for nearly an entire day and had yet to return.
Gu Qing Yi did not voice her grievance—she had endured hunger for the whole day already.
Alas, Little Lady Gu had only mastered the craft of instant noodle preparation. Just earlier, when her hunger had reached its peak, she had prepared a bowl but had barely taken a single bite before being interrupted.
Master Fang chuckled as he observed the young woman before him—her beauty was unparalleled, even beyond what he had encountered before. Yet, there was a stiffness in her posture, a lingering nervousness in her air.
He had half a mind to wait for Chen Yan to return. After all, when delivering a gift, it was best to personally secure the favor.
His gaze roamed the chamber and, by chance, landed on the set of chopsticks and an untouched bowl of noodles beside the sofa.
Something flickered in his mind.
With a casual smile, he asked, “May I inquire as to your relation with Mister Chen Yan?”
“Hmm…” Gu Qing Yi was no fool. If she were to utter outright, “I am his Legitimate Mother,” it would be far too shocking. So she merely offered, “I suppose… one could say I am an elder of his clan.”
An elder? Master Fang hesitated for a breath but quickly understood. Ah, this was not so unusual—perhaps an extended kinship through some distant branch. It was not unheard of, especially in the countryside, for one’s generation to differ greatly despite similar ages.
Master Fang himself had a distant uncle in his hometown who was still in middle school.
A remote relative with a high seniority—hm… given the right circumstances, there was no reason a young man and woman could not find affection beyond mere familial bonds.
He exchanged a few idle pleasantries, noticing that the young lady took care in her responses, thinking deeply before speaking. There was a faint tension in her manner.
Yet… amidst their conversation, she could not help but cast fleeting glances toward that bowl of instant noodles.
Master Fang laughed heartily. “Ah, but you young ones are far too negligent in matters of proper sustenance. Instant noodles, now—that is but an occasional indulgence! Overconsumption is most unwise for one’s health.”
Gu Qing Yi pouted slightly, sparing another glance at the bowl—it had nearly dried out. Shaking her head, she muttered, “Chen Yan is not home, and I do not know how to cook.”
“Ah?” Master Fang laughed again. “In that case, fortune has brought us together at the perfect time! I have long wished to invite Mister Chen Yan for a meal. Since fate has arranged our meeting today, allow me to host a small banquet.”
With that, he gestured toward Assistant Yan, who had been standing at the chamber’s threshold. “Find a fine establishment nearby and order a grand feast to be delivered.”
“Understood,” Assistant Yan responded promptly. He then turned to Gu Qing Yi. “Do you have any dietary restrictions, miss?”
“I do not eat beef.”
“Very well. I shall take note.”
With a courteous nod, Assistant Yan turned and stepped away to make the arrangements.
Gu Qing Yi turned to Master Fang, a smile forming at last. Her voice was soft but genuine as she earnestly said, “Master Fang, you are a truly good man.”
——
Chen Yan returned home just as the sky darkened into twilight.
As he crossed the courtyard, he spotted Gui Geng standing by the outer gate, waving him over.
“Young Master, we have guests.”
“Oh?” Chen Yan strode forward, tossing the bundle of red candles and assorted items he had purchased into Gui Geng’s arms. “Who?”
“A man by the name of Fang.”
Chen Yan immediately knew who it was. Sure enough, upon stepping inside, he found Master Fang seated in the dining hall, speaking merrily. Before him, a grand banquet had already been laid out.
“Teacher Chen!” Master Fang exclaimed the moment he caught sight of him. Rising hastily, he limped forward and clasped Chen Yan’s hand in a firm shake. “I took the liberty of visiting unannounced—pray, do not take offense!”
Chen Yan’s gaze remained steady as he looked at President Fang, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “President Fang, you’re too courteous. Your legs haven’t been well lately, there’s no need to trouble yourself like this.”
“Oh, come now, Teacher Chen!” President Fang chuckled, eyes gleaming with sincerity. “I truly wish to forge a friendship with you. Just don’t treat me like an outsider.” He then gestured toward the dining table, his voice laced with a touch of pride. “I knew you might not have had a chance to cook, so I took the liberty of having some dishes sent over. As it turns out, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect—you arrived home just as the food did.”
Chen Yan’s gaze flickered over the table, now laden with an array of sumptuous dishes. Just then, Gu Qing Yi emerged from the kitchen, her expression tinged with an endearing shyness.
“Xiao Yan…” she murmured softly, her voice naturally carrying a delicate, almost coquettish quality. “This Mister Fang has sent you many gifts.”
Chen Yan nodded slightly, exhaling a quiet sigh as he turned to President Fang. “Your generosity is overwhelming, President Fang. It truly leaves me at a loss.”
“It’s but a small token,” President Fang waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve prepared some New Year’s gifts for my clients and friends, and it only seemed fitting to send a share your way.”
Chen Yan gave a slight smile. “Then I shall accept without reservation. Since the food is here, let’s make the best of it—why not join us at the table?”
As they ate, President Fang was about to instruct his assistant, Yan Zhao Xing, to retrieve a couple of fine bottles of wine from the car. As a businessman accustomed to grand gestures, he always had quality liquor on hand. However, upon learning that Chen Yan did not partake in alcohol, he relented with a good-natured chuckle.
As the meal progressed, President Fang’s gaze fell upon Gu Qing Yi, who sat beside Chen Yan, quietly focused on her meal. A flicker of thought passed through his mind, and he beckoned Assistant Yan over, whispering instructions into his ear.
Moments later, Assistant Yan returned, carrying an exquisitely wrapped gift bag, its surface adorned with an elegant, interwoven “C” emblem.
“I came in haste today and only prepared general gifts,” President Fang said with an air of magnanimity. “I hadn’t realized Teacher Chen had a lady in the household—an oversight on my part! Please, Miss Gu, accept this as a New Year’s token from me.”
Within the bag was a designer handbag, originally purchased with the intent of appeasing President Fang’s wife. Yet upon noticing Gu Qing Yi’s presence, he had swiftly decided to offer it here instead. To him, matters of ‘matriarchs’ and ‘elders’ were mere formalities—what truly mattered was who resided in Chen Yan’s home.
The way Gu Qing Yi spoke to Chen Yan, the way she hesitated before addressing him—any fool could see what was between them.
[If these two aren’t a pair, I’ll gouge out my own eyes,] President Fang mused.
In his experience, sometimes winning favor with the woman of the house was a far more effective strategy than directly currying favor with the master himself.
As expected, upon seeing the gift, Chen Yan paused in thought for but a moment before nodding. “President Fang, your kindness is well received. In return, I shall prepare something for you in the coming days. I recall you once mentioned an interest in collecting mystical artifacts—I’ll ensure you receive a worthy piece.”
President Fang’s heart leaped with joy. He had no idea that Chen Yan accepted the gift not out of obligation but rather to save himself the trouble of explaining the intricate relationship between himself and Gu Qing Yi. A simple white jade talisman in exchange for a luxury handbag—an easy trade.
Brimming with delight, President Fang raised his teacup in a toast. Though there was no wine at the table, the evening concluded on a note of harmony and mutual satisfaction.
As the night deepened, President Fang took his leave. At the threshold of the courtyard, he lowered his voice, sharing one final tidbit before parting. “Today, Elder Zi of the Falling Cloud Retreat paid me a visit and delivered a sum of compensation money. It seems they wish to make peace.”
Chen Yan chuckled knowingly. “That should mean the restoration of your residence is now complete.”
“Precisely!” President Fang nodded. “This sum—well, it only came after your intervention. My thought was to divide it, transferring half into your account—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Chen Yan interrupted firmly. “President Fang, you already covered the cost of the repairs. I prefer to keep matters separate. This compensation is yours alone—it is repayment for the troubles you endured. I have no claim to it.”
President Fang was momentarily taken aback before breaking into a broad grin. After a brief moment of contemplation, he gave a resolute nod. “Very well, Teacher Chen. We’ll continue our dealings in due course. I, Fang Da Hai, never let my friends suffer a loss!”
After seeing President Fang and Assistant Yan off, Chen Yan returned home, only to find Gu Qing Yi bustling in the kitchen. She had retrieved two insulated containers and was carefully packing them with leftovers.
“What are you doing?” Chen Yan asked.
“I saved two dishes from tonight’s meal ahead of time,” she replied without looking up.
“Are you keeping them for tomorrow? There’s no need—leftover food isn’t good for one’s health.”
“It’s not for tomorrow,” she shook her head. “I have use for them. I’ll be heading out for a while and will return later.”
The dishes she had set aside—chestnut-braised pork and glutinous rice dumplings in sweet wine—were ones she remembered the Boss Lady mentioning as her favorites.
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation