Chapter 2: The Old House

He pushed open the creaking cabin door.

The cramped cabin was permeated with the smell of damp wood, aged fishy odors, and a faint scent of rice bran.

Chen Qing’s mother, Han-shi, hurried over upon hearing the sound. "A-Qing, how... how was it today?"

Chen Qing shook his head, his voice low. "The people at the fish pier drove the prices down again... and my luck was poor today. One cast of the net only brought up small fish and shrimp; it barely sold for a few coppers."

Fishing was, after all, a trade that relied on the heavens.

It was common to cast a net and pull it up empty; no matter how high one’s skill, there was nothing to be done about it.

Moreover, this line of work wore out the nets, and in the end, one still had to look to the heavens for favor.

Han-shi sighed, tears welling in her eyes. "Sigh... how are we to live from here on out?"

She looked at the rice bag, which was nearly empty. "We can’t even afford coarse rice anymore; we can only chew on this rice bran... I only hope the Dragon King will open his eyes and grant us mother and son a bite of food to survive."

Staple foods were categorized as follows: white flour (refined grain), coarse rice and sorghum flour (coarse grain), rice bran, and moldy rice.

Foods like white rice, or steamed buns and noodles made from refined flour, were expensive in the market and only the wealthy could afford to eat them daily.

Ordinary folk and fishermen ate coarse rice, rice bran, and mixtures of river snails and reed leaves; very few could afford to eat coarse grains without additives regularly.

But for the Chen family, even coarse grains were hard to come by, and rice bran had become their staple.

They rarely used oil in their daily meals, and they were sparing with salt, mostly using chili, wild onions, and garlic to mask the unpleasant taste.

As for the "bounty" from the Dragon King that Han-shi spoke of, it was nothing more than cold steamed buns thrown into the river after a sacrifice, which, when fished out, were bloated and soft like rotting meat.

Han-shi sighed miserably, "Your father went to dig the canal for the clan and has been missing ever since, leaving us a widow and an orphan. We can't survive on fishing alone..."

She looked at Chen Qing, biting her lip. "How will you manage in the future without a trade to rely on? I heard Uncle Dachun say that Xiaochun is going to be an apprentice at Wanbao Hall... A-Qing, why don't you find a way to learn a trade too?"

For the people of Yazi Bay, being a fisherman was a dead end. The only hope of escaping this quagmire was to learn a trade on land, even if it were only as the lowliest apprentice.

Chen Qing said in a low voice, "Learning a trade... I’m afraid that would cost quite a bit of silver, wouldn't it?"

The Chen family was already poor, and whatever meager savings they had were long ago plundered by the Jinhe Gang.

This was a world where if an ordinary person had money, they would be targeted.

Old Zhang, the tracker, had the good fortune to earn a few coppers, but he showed his wealth at a floating house and was robbed that very night, and had one of his legs broken to boot.

Floating houses were boat-based gambling dens and secret brothels.

Then there was the illiterate Old Qiu’s family, who were tricked into signing a "fish-scale contract," and his daughter-in-law was sold directly into a floating house.

Such incidents were everywhere, too numerous to mention.

Han-shi was silent for a long while before saying with difficulty, "If there’s really no other way, should we go to the old house and borrow some from your grandfather?"

The old house?

Chen Qing shook his head inwardly but said nothing.

After noon.

The mother and son stepped off the boat and crossed three long streets to reach the Chaiyu Workshop.

The fishy smell from the vendors closing their stalls had not yet dissipated, but compared to the lingering stench of rot in Yazi Bay, this place actually seemed to have a bit of vitality.

The old Chen family residence was located in this Chaiyu Workshop and served as a general store.

Behind the shop was a dilapidated little courtyard, crowded with four or five rooms.

Grandfather Chen had lost his wife in his early years and had raised two sons and a daughter alone: the eldest daughter, Chen Jinhua; the eldest son, Chen Wu (Chen Qing’s father); and the second son, Chen Wen.

At this moment, Grandfather Chen was sitting in the main room, puffing on his dry tobacco pipe, his expression a mix of joy and worry.

He was surrounded by the family of his second son, Chen Wen.

Chen Wen was the grandfather’s favorite youngest son; he had inherited the grandfather’s youthful, fair, and delicate looks and had never suffered any hardships growing up.

The grandfather had always planned for him to take over the old house and the shop, but Chen Wen was accustomed to laziness; he would haul cargo when he felt like it, and when tired, he would just lie at home, unable to endure any hardship.

The grandfather felt sorry for him, and his indulgence far outweighed any reprimands.

To Chen Wen’s left was the second aunt, her hair neatly coiled with a wooden hairpin, her clothing much more refined than Han-shi’s.

To his right was Chen Qing’s cousin, Chen Heng, who was five months younger than Chen Qing but sturdy and robust, with a spirited look in his eyes that made him seem much more energetic.

On the other side, the eldest aunt, Chen Jinhua, and cousin Yang Huiniang were picking and washing vegetables.

Yang Huiniang was seventeen. Her features were not particularly exquisite, but she was very pleasant to look at. Her wheat-colored skin had a healthy glow, and her eyes were bright and remarkably clear.

Chen Qing took all of this in. Grandfather Chen was extremely partial to the second uncle’s family, scrimping and saving himself, keeping all the good food and drink for them.

He was especially doting toward the clever and sharp Chen Heng.

Yet, as the eldest grandson, his own treatment was worlds apart from Chen Heng’s.

"Father!"

"Grandfather!"

The mother and son walked into the courtyard, and Chen Qing performed a deep bow to Grandfather Chen.

Grandfather Chen was a traditional patriarch; his status and position were, after all, different.

The second aunt immediately stepped forward, her tone rising with a hint of deliberate surprise and mockery: "Oh, what brings you here today, sister-in-law?"

Her words were loaded with implication.

Han-shi curled her lip and ignored her sister-in-law.

The eldest aunt, Chen Jinhua, glanced up, couldn't be bothered to acknowledge them, and silently lowered her head to continue picking vegetables.

Only Yang Huiniang’s eyes lit up slightly when she saw Chen Qing, and she called out, "A-Qing!"

Chen Qing responded with a smile, "Cousin."

In his memory, the eldest aunt was shrewd and snobbish, but his cousin was gentle and kind.

He had been very close to his cousin since childhood.

Now seventeen, his cousin had been working at a clothing shop for three years and was already able to independently sew and sell embroidered handkerchiefs.

"Sit down, eldest daughter-in-law," Grandfather Chen said, putting down his pipe.

After a few words of small talk, Grandfather Chen looked at Chen Qing and sighed, "A-Qing, you need to strive for something, too."

He shook his head inwardly.

Chen Wu had been honest and simple-minded since he was a boy, and Chen Qing seemed just as dull and slow. In these difficult times, just putting food on the table was hard enough, let alone getting ahead.

Although Chen Qing had no prospects, he was, after all, his grandson.

"While you are young and strong, hurry and find a trade."

Second Uncle Chen Wen put on the airs of an elder, his tone stern, "You can't let your mother worry about everything."

Chen Qing glanced at his second uncle, feeling speechless.

This man, who lived off his parents at home, actually had the nerve to lecture him?

"Father, A-Qing is still young," Han-shi said quickly, cutting to the point, "That is why I want him to learn a trade to make a living."

Hearing this, Grandfather Chen nodded. "Learning a trade is a good thing. If he can master it, at least he’ll be able to put food on the table in this world."

Seeing Grandfather Chen’s approval, Han-shi’s eyes brightened, and she quickly added, "Learning a trade requires an apprenticeship fee, and we... we really don't have any spare money..."

Before she could finish, her meaning was clear.

Grandfather Chen’s eyelids twitched, and he fell silent.

When Chen Wu had split from the family, he had taken almost nothing with him except for simple daily necessities.

Over the years, he had felt guilty toward the eldest son’s family.

Especially since the eldest had taken the second son’s place to dig the canal and there had been no news of him since.

The second aunt became alert the moment she heard this. "Father, Heng’er is learning martial arts at the martial arts hall, which costs a great deal. This matter cannot be delayed..."

Chen Heng was learning martial arts at a martial arts hall!?

Chen Qing’s heart stirred upon hearing this.

A martial arts hall was a place where one could learn martial arts, but the tuition was extremely expensive; most of the disciples were from wealthy families in the county.

Chen Jinhua couldn't sit still. "Father, when did Heng’er start learning martial arts? Why didn't I know?"

There was a hint of dissatisfaction in the eldest aunt’s tone.

Grandfather Chen tapped his pipe and said slowly, "I haven't had a chance to tell you all yet. Heng’er started learning at the Guangchang Martial Arts Hall three months ago and has made quite a bit of progress. If all goes well, he can participate in the military examinations next year."

By the end, the corners of Grandfather Chen’s eyes were crinkled with a smile.

A "Military Scholar" (Wu Xiucai) held a degree in the Yan Kingdom, which allowed for tax exemptions for the family—a significant expense.

If he could continue to pass the examinations and achieve a high rank in the military, it would be a meteoric rise, bringing honor to his ancestors. For an ordinary family, it would be like the ancestral graves emitting auspicious smoke.

The second aunt was as proud as a rooster, smugly saying, "When Heng’er was practicing his punches this morning, the instructor at the hall praised him as a great talent!"

As she spoke, she pulled out a silk handkerchief. "Feel this silk, it was a gift from Master Liu’s wife at the martial arts hall..."

Chen Qing saw his grandfather’s withered fingers stroking the silk, a glow appearing in his cloudy eyes.

He knew that was material only found in the inner city.

(End of chapter)