WSMTATMC C78

Chapter 78

On the first day of the New Year, the village menfolk came with their children to pay New Year’s calls on the manor’s household.

In past years, the manor owners spent the New Year in town, and distance made visiting inconvenient, so the steward Chen Xi would bring gifts to convey greetings. This year they were all at the manor, so everyone came in person.

When the side gate opened, the yellow dog barked twice. Seeing the masters warmly welcome the visitors, it wagged its tail and padded back to its kennel to catch up on sleep—last night’s crackling firecrackers had kept it awake.

Wang Ying had prepared plenty of melon seeds and sweets, handing each child a pocketful, which delighted them immensely.

Sugar was expensive; even at New Year, families on the manor wouldn’t buy much—just a few bites to sweeten their mouths, never enough for the children to feel satisfied.

The tenant families were sincere: they knelt as soon as they arrived and poured out a basketful of auspicious phrases, bringing laughter and cheer to the household.

Visitors came and went until nearly noon before things quieted down. Madam Li, feeling tired, took Yuanbao to the rear courtyard for a nap.

Wang Ying stayed in the front rooms playing cards with the children. After last year’s lesson—where a few lost money and didn’t dare gamble again—he changed the rules: they tore straw paper into slips, and whoever lost a round had to stick a strip to their face.

After two rounds, Wang Ying’s luck was the worst—his face was nearly covered.

When Chen Qingyan came in, he burst out laughing. “What on earth are you all doing?”

“You’re just in time. Come take my place for a few hands—these three little rascals are ganging up on me.”

Qingyun laughed till she doubled over. “Sister-in-law can’t peel them off yet—you have to finish the game first.”

Wang Ying blew at the strip stuck on his forehead. “Fine, I won’t. Just wait till your gege gets even with you.”

But Chen Qingyan’s card skills weren’t any better. He lost too and ended up with his face plastered full. The couple looked at each other and couldn’t help laughing until tears came.

The Spring Festival passed in boisterous joy, and then the focused rhythm of study resumed.

After Yuanbao’s first-birthday celebration, the weather warmed day by day, and Liang Boqing decided to take the three pupils traveling to study.

As the saying goes, reading ten thousand books is not as good as traveling ten thousand miles; much of what is in books cannot be grasped by words alone and must be experienced to understand its deeper meaning.

Master Liang’s plan was to travel by carriage to Jizhou Prefecture to visit several old friends, then turn toward Laizhou.

He had lived in Laizhou for seven or eight years and kept a residence there; he wanted to put it in order so it would not fall into ruin.

He knew many people in Laizhou—nearly every instructor at the prefectural academy was acquainted with him, and the dean was a disciple of a friend. Through that connection, the three could study there for a few months to experience the academy’s atmosphere.

By June or July, they would take a boat back to Liang’s hometown of Yangzhou, to see firsthand how southern students studied, and return before the year’s end to take next year’s county exam.

When Madam Li heard her two sons would be gone for a year, she was deeply worried and reluctant, but she understood this was a rare opportunity. Without Master Liang to lead them, boys from their station would never travel so far.

Two days before departure, Wang Ying prepared a heap of clothing for Chen Qingyan—thin and thick, all kinds—afraid he would be too hot or too cold on the road.

Even though they could meet nightly in the experimental field, Wang Ying still worried.

Ancient times were not like the modern day: travel and communication were slow, bandits prowled the countryside, and even a common cold could be dangerous. He simply couldn’t rest easy.

Sensing his anxiety, Qingyan took his hand. “Don’t worry. The entire route follows official roads, and we can meet nightly in the field. Nothing will happen.”

“The field can’t be opened every single day. You’ll be sleeping in carts and inns—what if it’s inconvenient?”

“When it is, I’ll find time to leave you a note to say I’m safe.”

Wang Ying hummed, his nose stinging.

Qingyan lifted his face. “Why is my gege crying?”

“I’m not.”

Unable to help himself, Qingyan pulled him into an embrace. “I’ll be gone a year. Please look after home.”

“Just take care of yourself. Don’t fall ill on the road.”

“I know.”

They both understood a short separation was for the sake of a better future, so Wang Ying supported him wholeheartedly.

Wiping his eyes, he started to instruct him: “Once you reach the south, don’t forget to look for fruit trees for me—orange, lychee, yangmei, loquat… these are essential. And if you find good vegetables, add them to the field.”

“Alright, I’ll remember.”

“If you can’t find saplings, keep the seeds. I can try to grow them.” Northern fruit varieties were far too few, and in ancient times, with poor transport, southern fruit was almost impossible to taste.

“Okay, I’ll gather pretty flowers and plants for your field too.”

Wang Ying nodded. The two looked at each other—and couldn’t help hugging again. Parting was truly hard.

“As soon as you leave, he’ll be walking by the time you return.”

“Will he forget me? If only the boy could enter the field too.”

Wang Ying didn’t dare try; he’d once been flattened into a two-dimensional “panel” in there—without explicit guidance, he wouldn’t risk taking Yuanbao inside.

Early the next morning, Chen Qingyan took his son out for a stroll.

They would leave tomorrow. He used today’s free time to walk him around.

It was still cold, but the snow had begun to melt; bundling on layers kept the child warm.

Qingyan lifted the boy onto his shoulders to see the kittens and puppies.

“That’s Wangwang, our dog.”

“Wah-woh…” Yuanbao could already respond, but he still lisped, his words indistinct.

The big yellow dog sat, tongue out, tilting its head at father and son.

“Wangwang, this is your little master. You must protect him.”

As if understanding, the dog lay down obediently and rumbled in its throat.

“Up there is the cat, our tabby.”

Yuanbao stared wide-eyed at the orange cat.

Usually the feline lord was aloof and ignored everyone; today, perhaps in a good mood, it actually jumped down, rubbed around Qingyan’s legs, and meowed.

“Cat-cat! Cat-cat!” Yuanbao was thrilled and reached out to pet it.

Afraid of a scratch, Qingyan didn’t set him down, but carried him straight out along the path into the village.

They met many villagers along the way who came to greet them. “The master is out! Is this the young master? What a handsome child!”

“Fair and plump—looks blessed, like a little temple child.”

Unafraid, the little one waved with a grin, charming everyone he saw.

“That’s a big tree. Those are sparrows. That’s a mule…”

Qingyan taught his son the names of new things. He would be leaving soon and wanted to teach him everything in sight.

But the child was young; after a while he grew tired, flopped over his father’s head, and sucked his fingers.

When they reached Chen Xi’s home, they found the family helping Ershun pack—everyone shared the same concern about a long journey.

Seeing Qingyan approach, Chen Xi hurried out. “Greetings, master, young master. It’s cold—please come inside.”

It was Yuanbao’s first time visiting another household, and everything looked new to him.

There wasn’t much for children to eat at the Xi home, so his wife quickly boiled two eggs, cooled them in water, peeled them, and gave them to Yuanbao.

“Did you thank Grandma?”

Yuanbao raised his two chubby hands in a little bow, making the elders laugh with delight.

“No need to be so formal—so long as the young master likes it.”

“We’ll be gone a year this time. I’m paying Ershun’s wages in advance so he won’t spend carelessly on the road.” Qingyan took out ten taels of silver and set them down.

“I can’t accept so much!”

“Take it. The road is long and difficult; hiring another man would cost as much. It’s better to have Ershun by our side.”

Ten taels was no small sum—enough for them to buy a mule to plow. Chen Xi thought the master kind indeed; with his son following such a man, the boy’s future would be secure.

He turned to instruct his son, “When you’re out, be shrewd in speech and quick of hand. Don’t cause trouble for the master.”

“Aye, I know.”

On the sixteenth day of the second month, an auspicious day for travel, the journey began.

At dawn, the servants loaded luggage and books onto the flatbed cart behind, covering it with oiled cloth against rain.

After their final breakfast together, Master Liang and the boys prepared to depart.

Chen Bo had wanted to go with them, but Qingyan wouldn’t leave the household unattended. He took only Ershun along, and with the servant sent by Fourth Uncle earlier, they were six in total.

They drove two wagons: the carriage for riding, the mule cart for luggage; if a wagon got stuck, it would be easier to manage.

Qingyan kissed Yuanbao all over his face. “Daddy has to go. Be good at home and listen to Ah Fu and Grandma.”

The little boy didn’t understand the long separation, giggled at the kisses, and said, “Daddy prickly—beard prickly.”

Madam Li secretly wiped her eyes and pulled out a banknote for one hundred taels. “Keep this safe—in case of emergency.”

“Aye.” Qingyan didn’t refuse. The experimental field held money, but on the road he might not be able to reach it in time.

Madam Li looked at Qinghuai and youngest son Qingsong. “You two, listen to your big brother out there. Especially you, Qingsong—no more mischief. Outside is not like home. If you meet someone with a bad temper, there’ll be nowhere to argue your case.”

Qingsong nodded.

Qingyun handed each of the three a sachet. “There’s a protective charm inside. May you have peace and a smooth journey.”

Last came Wang Ying. He hadn’t prepared anything, only reached to straighten Qingyan’s headpiece. “Don’t quarrel with strangers. Take good care of Master.”

“Mm.”

In the carriage, Master Liang, already impatient, lifted the curtain. “Are we going or not? Or shall we eat lunch first and then leave?”

The three scrambled aboard. Everyone, faces full of reluctance, escorted them to the courtyard gate.

When Yuanbao saw his father vanish, he stretched his hands out anxiously. “Dad—Daddy…”

Wang Ying held him close and soothed, “Daddy’s gone to work. He’ll be back soon.”

“Waaah—” The little one burst into tears.

In the carriage, hearing the cries, Qingyan’s eyes reddened at once. He lowered his head to hide the tears. They hadn’t gone far, and already the taste of parting had grown bitter.

Meeting again would be hard; parting, harder still. One departure—and it would be a year before he returned.