Chapter 4 Keats

Chapter 4 Keats

Chen Wan couldn't eat much. His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it. He glanced at his wristwatch, which caught the attention of the main wife, Cao Zhi, who remarked, "Is the food not to your liking? A Wan, you've lost so much weight."

Everyone looked over. Chen Wan wiped his hands with a napkin and said, "No, it's just too hot to eat much."

Cao Zhi's nephew, Cao Zhi, casually joked, "A Wan is used to dining at Zhongding Banquets, how could he still appreciate these dishes? A friend of mine recently praised A Wan for his impressive appearance at Central the other day."

Everyone's expressions turned subtle. Zhao Shengge's welcome banquet was held at Central just two days ago.

The exclusive Sea Tower Restaurant in Haishi was booked for two whole days.

Chen Bingxin interrogated Chen Wan, "What were you doing at Central?"

Chen Wan calmly wiped his hands and lied, "I was helping Zhuo Zhixuan park his car."

Chen Bingxin's cloudy gaze lingered on him. Chen Wan turned his head and calmly met his eyes.

Chen Bingxin had no choice but to believe him. It was well-known that Chen Wan had once saved a noble classmate while swimming as a child.

Liao Quan, the uncle from the second branch, laughed, "A Wan, you should hold onto that rope tightly. Climbing up alone won't do. Only if the Chen family prospers can you stand more firmly, right?"

Chen Wan remained silent, but Chen Bingxin scoffed first, "What hope does he have? They just use him as an errand boy, they wouldn't really give him any face."

Hearing this said in front of everyone, they all snickered. Song Qingmiao was furious but dared not speak, her face flushed with anger. Chen Wan, however, didn't feel embarrassed.

Though the words were harsh, theoretically, Chen Bingxin wasn't wrong. Chen Wan had always been self-aware. He never dared to be too optimistic about whether that circle truly accepted him, given his background and social status, which were worlds apart.

But no matter what, Chen Wan still felt it was much better than here. At least the young masters treated him as a person, if not a friend.

Chen Wan nodded in agreement, neither humble nor overbearing, and said, "That's right, as a mere errand boy, I can't really say much."

Not to mention he wouldn't do anything for the Chen family, he wouldn't even use the connections and convenience of that circle for his own business.

This was a strict line of defense.

Chen Wan, from inside out, from head to toe, from his eyes to his smile, was not pure. But this one sentiment was somewhat pure.

He had to do his utmost to preserve this purity.

Everyone wanted to see Chen Wan make a fool of himself, but the man in question seemed indifferent and unconcerned, so the topic shifted to the marriage of the eldest daughter of the third branch.

The Chen residence was strict with rules, filled with complicated etiquette. After dinner, Chen Bingxin clasped his hands and recited a prayer, leading everyone to offer incense to the statues of Allah and Mazu.

Chen Wan couldn't help but wonder if this hybrid, neither Eastern nor Western form of ritualistic belief would anger both Eastern and Western deities.

Standing among his peers, repeating the kowtowing, Chen Wan felt for a moment as if he were living in some year of the late Qing dynasty.

As in previous years, Chen Bingxin invited several feng shui masters to exorcise ghosts and worship Buddha, spending a fortune on talismans, hoping to rejuvenate the Rongxin Building, which had already rotted from its roots.

The masters felt around the corners and door beams, and after calculating a favorable divination, everyone felt relieved and went to play mahjong. Guests came in waves, and the clatter of tiles drowned out the peace of Guanyin and Buddha.

The mahogany wall clock had just struck eight, and there was still a long time before he could leave.

Chen Wan went to the side hall for some air. He never made work calls at the old residence, so he stood bored by the window, watching the rain.

The Typhoon Signal No. 8 was hanging fierce and sudden, but it didn't leave cleanly, dragging its tail. The night rain rustled against the broad palm leaves, and the ice autumn leaf begonia petals covered the courtyard.

It wasn't a weekend, but the typhoon holiday brought out more children, both from the Chen family's collateral branches and guests, playing around in the front hall.

Chen Wan was idly watching for a while, then approached with purpose a girl with pigtails, who was leaning against the wall in an odd, rigid pose.

Chen Wan chased off a few boys who were buzzing around her like flies, squatted down and asked, "What are you doing?"

The girl, probably mixed-race, had slightly curly sideburns and light-colored eyes that watched Chen Wan warily. Chen Wan offered her a faint smile.

Few could resist Chen Wan's smile, whether they were seventeen or seven. The girl shook her head and replied in English, "I'm okay."

Chen Wan looked her over for any obvious injuries, then stood beside her, leaning against the wall just like her.

Maybe this casual gesture somehow earned her trust, for after a while, the girl turned her head and extended her hand formally, saying, "Hello, Judy."

Chen Wan extended his hand and shook hers with equal formality, "Hello, Chen Wan." Worried she might not understand Chinese, he added, "Or, Keats."

The girl seemed more intrigued by his Chinese name but stumbled over the pronunciation, "Chen... Wan? Which 'Wan'?"

"The 'Wan' in 'retain' (which means 'to retain')."

Judy blinked; her Chinese wasn't good enough to grasp the word.

Chen Wan reached into his pocket and pulled out a plain business card, pointing to the characters on it. Judy studied it for a moment before taking it.

They stood quietly side by side, watching the night rain for a bit. Thirsty, Chen Wan grabbed a mangosteen from the offering table and asked, "Judy, want some?"

Judy paused and said, "Sorry, Chen Wan, I can't eat at the moment."

Chen Wan was amused by her serious tone.

"Why?"

Judy said awkwardly, "My dress is torn, and I can't leave this wall."

It was only then that Chen Wan noticed the scissor marks on her dress hem. He stopped smiling and asked softly, "Did they do it?"

The boys were about seven or eight, that age when even dogs steer clear.

Judy nodded silently.

Chen Wan removed his outer shirt and handed it to her, telling her to tie it around her waist, "Use this to cover up for the time being."

Judy thanked him, and Chen Wan asked, "Should I tell your mother?"

Judy's mother was Madame Du Rui, who was currently playing cards in the living room.

Once the widow of the richest man in Haishi and a socialite who owned half of the shallow bay, Madame Du Rui had numerous lovers, and the identity of Judy's father had been one of Haishi's most talked-about mysteries.

Madame Du Rui was immersed in her luxurious lifestyle and paid little attention to Judy, so Judy said it wasn't necessary, as Madame Du Rui would only scold her for losing her ladylike manners.

Chen Wan respected her decision. His shirt was long enough for Judy to wear as a dress, and it looked quite stylish.

Chen Wan split the mangosteen and gave half to Judy, who ate it with restraint.

It was the peak season for mangosteens, freshly airlifted from Vietnam, each one round and full, with sweet, white flesh like petals of snow, the juice sweet and refreshing.

After finishing, Chen Wan looked at the fruit basket and asked, "Want another one? Pineapple or melon?"

Judy, now wearing his jacket, felt much more at ease and peeked over, saying, "Melon."

Chen Wan picked up a knife to cut it when suddenly a hand clapped him on the shoulder from behind. Chen Wan reacted swiftly, turning sharply with the knife pointed at the intruder, who quickly moved his hand away, raising it in surrender, grinning broadly, "A Wan, it's me."

Chen Wan stepped forward to shield Judy, still holding the knife, which he waved in the air, saying, "So what if it’s you? Back off." He didn’t even need to turn around; just the stench of decay was enough to know which rotten fly it was.

Liao Quan continued to smile, pointing at the knife in Chen Wan’s hand, "Put that down first. It’s been a while; I just wanted to catch up."

Chen Wan ignored him, so Liao Quan added, "A peaceful home brings good fortune. Brother-in-law will chew you out if he sees this."

"I don’t care if he sees it," Chen Wan said, the stairway light casting a harsh shadow on his face. His expression turned grim as he tilted his head slightly, speaking slowly but clearly, "You think you can send me back to Xiaolan Mountain again?"

Liao Quan’s smile faded as he licked his teeth.

Xiaolan Mountain was the city’s mental institution, housing high-profile patients, such as mistresses and illegitimate children of officials, top political prisoners, and mentally unstable celebrities.

Chen Wan had spent three years there starting from the age of nine.

He moved the knife tip an inch closer, pointing directly at Liao Quan’s forehead, and said calmly, "You can’t do it anymore, but I can slice your fingers again."

The knife was too close, and Liao Quan’s greedy, murky eyes finally flickered.

When Chen Wan was first brought back from the outer ring slums at the age of nine, Liao Quan had locked him in a room during his nap.

Liao Quan had tried to grope the child’s feet and remove his white socks, but Chen Wan was unusually alert and immediately stomped hard on Liao Quan’s wrist.

Liao Quan cried out in pain, slapped Chen Wan, and grabbed his hair. Despite his youth, Chen Wan was ruthless and silent, directly grabbing a pair of scissors from the desk and cutting Liao Quan’s fingers.

He was never some pampered young master; he was a wild child from the outer ring slums, a fierce dog raised in a dog-eat-dog world, untamed and full of sharp edges. Liao Quan’s hands were left bloodied.

When the maid heard the horrific screams in the hallway, Chen Wan was almost piercing through Liao Quan’s palm, aiming for his eyes and face.

The incident caused a scandal. The doctor who came to treat the wounds said Liao Quan’s right hand might be permanently disabled. Liao Liu, the second wife, publicly lashed out at Chen Wan and slapped Song Qingmiao hard, still unsatisfied, throwing a fit and demanding that Chen Bingxin give her brother justice, as Liao Quan was the only male heir of the Liao family.

Everyone in the family looked at Chen Wan as if he were a deranged and evil lunatic, wondering how an ordinary child could be so ruthless and almost kill someone.

Chen Bingxin was furious. Chen Wan was like the defiant Nezha, who protected his mother and killed his father, lawless and uncontrollable, an ungrateful wretch. He ordered the family doctor to forcibly administer sedatives and issued a diagnosis of mental illness, sending Chen Wan to Xiaolan Mountain.

Chen Wan pulled back the knife, not even looking at Liao Quan, and continued cutting the melon for Judy, "You know me, I’ve got nothing to lose."

Liao Quan had never gained an advantage over Chen Wan before, and now even less so. Liao Quan looked unwillingly at Chen Wan’s handsome profile. Chen Wan’s deceptive softness and fierceness were both captivating, but he also feared Chen Wan’s madness, especially since it seemed like Chen Wan was genuinely about to stab the knife into his eyes.

It wasn’t the right time. Liao Quan glanced at Judy, took two steps back, and left.

Chen Wan handed Judy a slice of melon, "Are you scared?"

Judy’s mouth was glistening from eating, "Of what?"

"Did I scare you?" His earlier knife-wielding gesture seemed like he was about to kill someone, and he wondered if it would leave a psychological shadow on the child. So, he smiled as he handed her the fruit and wiped the juice from her hand with a tissue.

"No," Judy looked up at him. Perhaps because Madame Du Rui didn’t hide her flirtations from her, the little girl was somewhat precocious and said in English, "Chen Wan, you are a gentle gentleman."

"..." A gentle gentleman who points a knife at someone?

Judy glanced around the fruit basket and said sincerely, "Like the mangosteen, Keats."

Mangosteen, firm on the outside, soft and white on the inside.

"..." Chen Wan didn’t quite understand the child’s whimsical imagination and innocence. He paused for a moment, not daring to give her the knife, and instead stuffed a few fruit forks into her pocket for self-defense, advising, "If you see this guy again, head where there are more adults."

Judy trusted him and nodded obediently.

Author's note:

Chen Wan’s English name is Keats.

The child thinks he’s like a mangosteen, a tropical fruit that, when opened, reveals gentle paws, sweet and soft.