Chapter 37: The Hall of Matrimony (2)

Chapter 37: The Hall of Fate (2)

"How come it's just you? Where's your master?" Qin Zhonglian looked around, finding no trace of anyone else.

The little monk piped up, "Master has gone to pray for the Emperor's blessings. He told me to stay put and roasted me some sweet potatoes. When Master returns, I can have my dinner."

Qin Zhonglian smacked his forehead—he'd totally forgotten about that.

Chen Shuoan looked at Chen Gangpao, whose mouth was smeared yellow from the sweet potato, and gave his dog ear a gentle tug, looking at him with exasperation: "You ate the kid's sweet potato!"

"It's okay, I've got plenty more. I'll go get some for the big brothers..."

And with that, he scurried off to the backyard on his little stubby legs.

Chen Shuoan sighed. "If only Chen Gangpao were half as well-behaved as this kid."

"Dream on."

Chen Shuoan went quiet, realizing that was definitely a pipe dream. He got up, trotted over to the little monk, grabbed his hand, and headed to the backyard with him.

There was a square pond in the backyard, and the water wasn't stagnant. Above the pond, a small notch had been cut into the wall, and a trickle of spring water flowed down from it, landing right on the lotus seedpod below and sending droplets flying.

It was deep autumn now—if this were midsummer, the spot would be a cool, refreshing escape.

Chen Shuoan followed the little monk and sat down by the fire, watching him deftly poke a stick into the flames and rake around until he fished out a sweet potato with a charred, golden-brown skin.

The little monk grinned, dimples popping on his chubby cheeks. He reached out and poked the piping-hot sweet potato with his finger.

"It's soft—it's ready. Big brother can eat it now."

Chen Shuoan grabbed the plump, round sweet potato barehanded and immediately burned himself, yelping as he juggled it between his hands.

The little monk giggled, his pink gums—where baby teeth had fallen out and new ones hadn't grown in yet—impossible to hide.

Chen Shuoan blew on it, going "whoosh, whoosh," split the sweet potato in half, and handed a piece to him.

The little monk took it obediently, opened his mouth, and took a bite of the soft flesh. "Thanks, big brother."

The sweet potato was fragrant and sweet. Chen Shuoan hissed in air from the heat, his eyes drifting around until they landed on a wooden table by the pond. The paint was peeling, like it had seen years of use. Piles of wooden plaques sat on top, and the rickety four-legged table seemed to be buckling under the weight, like it might give out any second.

"What are those?"

"They're peach blossom plaques," the little monk said cheerfully, talking with his mouth full. "Lots of big brothers and sisters write their wishes on them, then give them to Master, and Master stacks them up here."

Qin Zhonglian, who'd followed along, was curious and asked, "There are so many peach blossom plaques—what do you do with them? Burn them?"

"Big brother, don't say stuff like that." The little monk's face turned serious. "Peach blossom plaques carry people's beautiful wishes—you can't just treat them carelessly. When the plaques pile up, Master arranges them into a pair of mandarin ducks and locks them in a box to keep them safe."

Chen Shuoan had an "aha" moment—he found it totally fascinating.

"This big brother carries great fortune. For others to be close to you is a blessing that takes several lifetimes to earn." The little monk stared hard at Chen Shuoan, continuing his mystical spiel. "A person with great fortune can keep others' luck from fading and make sure blessings never run dry."

Chen Shuoan was genuinely tickled, bursting out laughing as he showed off to Qin Zhonglian: "You hear that? Meeting me is a blessing you've cultivated over several lifetimes. So why aren't you thanking me properly?"

The little monk looked like he'd never seen a human koi fish before—he pressed his whole body against Chen Shuoan, hoping to soak up some of that good luck.

Chen Shuoan had lived two lifetimes and never enjoyed any great fortune, so he just figured the kid was young, liked him, and was saying nice things to make him happy.

Still, might as well believe it.

There was, in fact, someone he'd always been thinking about.

"What if I want to share my ups and downs, my luck, with someone? What do I do?"

The little monk pounced on him so hard that Chen Shuoan nearly toppled over. He caught himself with one hand on the ground and scooped the kid into his arms with the other.

"It's easy! Master taught me—you just weave a Pixiu bracelet and give it to that person to wear." The little monk, thrilled to finally be of use, hopped out of his arms and scurried into the side room, coming back with a box.

Qin Zhonglian leaned in and was immediately blown away.

The contents were seriously precious—about a dozen strands of gold-threaded silk, gleaming and exquisitely made.

Besides those painstakingly crafted gold-thread pieces, the center of the box held a bunch of mythical beasts carved from fine Hetian jade.

Each beast was finely carved, lifelike, and looked crazy expensive.

The little monk sat down, set the box on his lap, and carefully picked out materials for Chen Shuoan.

"Big brother, use these!"

The little monk pulled out three thin threads and a small Pixiu charm, carefully set them in Chen Shuoan's palm, then went pat-pat-pat as he ran back to stash the box away.

Chen Shuoan was speechless.

The old monk, after finishing his prayers, returned to find his home had been robbed.

By the time the others found this remote Hall of Fate, Chen Shuoan was suffering under the Little Master's guidance.

Zhang Chenggong entered the backyard, saw the three people and a dog huddled together, and thought there must be something good.

He leaned in for a look—and indeed, it was something good.

"Wrong, wrong! Big brother, you wove this part incorrectly!"

The little monk was so anxious he nearly grew hair, but he couldn't touch it himself for fear of breaking the bond of fate, so he could only offer verbal technical support from the sidelines.

Chen Shuoan was driven up the wall by this tiny thing. He felt his eyes going cross, and with no other choice, he had to undo that section and start over.

The young ladies had finished offering incense to Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva in the front courtyard, gotten their peach blossom plaques, written their wishes, and now came to the backyard to gently place the plaques on the wooden table before heading toward Chen Shuoan's group.

Su Qingwan led the two sisters over for a look and laughed: "Young Master Chen, which lady is this bracelet for? What a wonderful meaning it carries."

Chen Shuoan replied with a light smile: "It's for a man."

The three ladies' eyes nearly popped out, a gleam of gossip shining in them, their fangirl souls burning fiercely.

Li Wei plopped down and shoved Zhang Chenggong aside, eyeing the exquisite bracelet with envy and jealousy: "Shuo'an must be weaving this for me."

"Really?!"

Su Qingwan was shocked, looking at the tall, handsome Li Wei, then turning to glance at the crouching Chen Shuoan with his striking, delicate features. The corners of her mouth, hidden behind her handkerchief, curled up high.

Bodhisattva bless me, this devout woman would give her whole life...

But before she could tell the Bodhisattva her wish, her fantasy was shattered by the man himself.

"Get lost. You have nothing to do with this."

Chen Shuoan smiled without warmth, stretched out his long leg, and kicked Li Wei in the shin.

Su Qingwan exchanged glances with her sisters, her heart leaping with even more excitement.

Ahhhh!

Who the heck is Young Master Chen making this for? Can someone please tell me!

I'm shipping them so hard I'm dead!

"It's for His Highness, the Sixth Prince."

Chen Shuoan squinted at the tangled golden threads, and then dropped the answer.