Chapter 71 The Cat's Past 1
"Looks like... too much like..." the old man muttered to himself, his voice hoarse and dry, with a strong rural accent.
"These eyebrows and eyes are exactly like the Madam's when she was young."
"Uncle Chen!" Bai Qingchen was filled with mixed feelings and quickly walked up to him.
He never expected that after so many years, he would meet the old housekeeper who treated him like a grandfather in front of the old house.
Uncle Chen was so excited that tears streamed down his face. He stretched out his skinny hand to grab Bai Qingchen's arm, but stopped in mid-air in disbelief, as if he was afraid that the person in front of him was an illusion.
Bai Qingchen took the initiative to hold the old man's trembling hand, and the rough touch carried real warmth.
"Uncle Chen, it's me, Qingchen."
His voice was a little choked. After he was sent to Renjitang, he never saw the old housekeeper who watched him grow up again.
Mo Li stood quietly by, watching the reunion without disturbing anyone.
Uncle Chen wiped away his tears, held Bai Qingchen's hand tightly and refused to let go, saying repeatedly: "Okay, okay, okay, the young master has grown up so much."
Only then did he notice the young man with extraordinary temperament beside Bai Qingchen, "Who is this?"
"This is Mo Li, my friend." Bai Qingchen introduced.
Mo Li nodded politely: "Hello, uncle."
"Okay, okay." Uncle Chen responded repeatedly, but his mind was obviously on Bai Qingchen.
He looked at the closed gate of the Sun family across the street, then looked at Bai Qingchen and sighed.
"Young Master is back to see... Alas, this is not the place to talk. If you don't mind, please come and sit with me. My son and I rented a small courtyard in the south of the city."
"Okay, thank you for your help, Uncle Chen." Bai Qingchen had exactly this in mind.
The small courtyard rented by Uncle Chen's son is in a secluded alley in the south of the city. Although it is not big, it is clean and tidy.
Uncle Chen's son was an honest carpenter and was not at home at the moment. Uncle Chen led the two of them into his small house.
Bai Qingchen couldn't help but ask about what happened back then: "Uncle Chen, do you know what happened during my parents' business trip?"
The joy of reunion on Uncle Chen's face faded, and was replaced by deep sadness.
The three of them sat down and Uncle Chen poured three bowls of coarse tea.
He held the tea bowl, his hands still shaking a little, his eyes looking at the tea leaves floating in the bowl, lost in long memories, and spoke in a low and slow voice.
"That year, the young master was only nine days away from his ninth birthday. The master and his wife received a large contract. They had to personally go to Jinfeng City to escort a batch of valuable goods back to Linshan City. The round trip should have only taken seven days..."
Let’s go back more than ten years.
Bai Yize put down the account book in his hand and rubbed his eyebrows. The light from the oil lamp in the room cast a small dim yellow.
Su Zhixu walked into the study with a bowl of hot soup and gently placed it next to him.
"We have to leave early tomorrow morning. Have you packed everything?" Her voice sounded particularly soft in the silence.
"Hmm." Bai Yize picked up the bowl and blew away the hot steam.
"This time we are going to Jinfeng City to escort a batch of important goods back. The price is high and we have to travel at a fast pace. It will take seven days for the round trip and we will definitely be able to get home before Qingchen's birthday." He took a sip of the soup and the warmth slid down his throat.
Su Zhixu sat down on the chair next to him and said, "We'll pass through Anfeng on the way back. I'm afraid..."
Bai Yize put down the bowl and held her hand, his palm broad and rough: "It's okay, this route is the fastest, and we can catch Qing'er's birthday in time."
"I haven't had any contact with An Feng for a long time, so there's no need for them to embarrass us."
He paused, his tone tinged with joy, "When we return from this trip, we'll take Qing'er to Liuyun Sect to become their disciple."
Su Zhixu was silent for a moment, and finally nodded.
The next day, just after dawn, there was a busy scene at the gate of Bai Mansion.
The animals were harnessed to several sturdy carts, and the men were doing the final tying.
Uncle Chen was standing at the gate, holding the hand of an eight-year-old boy.
This child was Bai Qingchen. His little face was tense and he tried hard to appear steady like an adult, but his clear eyes were closely following the figures of his parents.
Su Zhixu squatted down and hugged Bai Qingchen in his arms.
She had a faint warm fragrance of soapberry mixed with medicinal herbs on her body. Her arms were clenched tightly. Seeing Bai Qingchen's stern face, she suddenly wanted to tease him.
"Qing'er, smile."
Bai Qingchen's face turned red, but he refused to laugh. Su Zhixu was amused by Bai Qingchen's reaction and laughed out loud first.
She leaned close to Bai Qingchen's ear, her voice still tinged with laughter, "While your parents are away, you must listen to Uncle Chen."
"Yeah." Bai Qingchen nodded, and put his little hands around his mother's neck, "Mom, you and Dad need to come back soon."
Su Zhixu let go of him and stood up, looking at Uncle Chen who was standing beside him. "Uncle Chen, the mansion and Qing'er have worked hard for you during this period."
Uncle Chen bowed slightly and said in a steady voice, "Master and Madam, rest assured. I know you have a safe journey."
Bai Yize walked over and rubbed Bai Qingchen's head with his big hands as usual.
"Don't be naughty at home." His reminders were always brief.
Bai Qingchen raised his head, looked at his father and mother, and nodded vigorously again.
The couple mounted their horses, and at Bai Yize's command, the convoy started slowly. The wheels rolled over the bluestone road, making a dull rumbling sound, and headed towards the city gate.
Bai Qingchen was led by Uncle Chen and chased to the entrance of the alley, until the familiar figure and the convoy completely disappeared in the thin dust raised at the end of the street and could no longer be seen.
The days in the Bai Mansion were as peaceful as every time his parents went out.
Bai Qingchen went to school on time, and in the evening he sat at the small table under the study window, practicing calligraphy stroke by stroke.
Occasionally, his mind wandered, his chin resting on his hand as he wondered where his parents had gone and what new and interesting things they would bring back.
As I think about it, the corners of my mouth will curl up, and the horizontal, vertical, and diagonal strokes in my writing seem to have a little more vitality.
However, the agreed seven-day period came to an end. The sun rose from the east to the middle of the sky, and then slid slowly towards the eaves in the west. The gate of the Bai Mansion remained silent.
There is no familiar sound of horse hooves, nor the dusty laughter of parents.
Bai Qingchen sat on the doorstep, holding a picked-up dead branch in his hand and scratching the ground.
He counted the days over and over again, starting from the day his parents left, and it had been seven days now.
"Uncle Chen," he ran back to the yard and found the old housekeeper who was counting the inventory in the warehouse. There was an urgency in his voice that he himself didn't even realize.
"Why haven't Mom and Dad come home yet? It's almost dark."
Uncle Chen put down the copper keychain in his hand, turned around, his face as calm as usual. "Don't worry, young master. The business trip is long, and it's common to be delayed for a day or two. Perhaps it's because the mountain road is difficult to travel after the rain. The master and his wife will definitely return safely."
Bai Qingchen looked at Uncle Chen's calm eyes, and the uneasiness in his heart seemed to be gently soothed.
He hummed and sat back on the doorstep, but this time, the dead branch in his hand no longer scribbled, but just unconsciously poked a small hole in the ground.
The afterglow of the setting sun lengthened his small shadow, which was imprinted alone on the bluestone slab.
Another day passed.
The atmosphere in the Bai Mansion gradually became tense. The servants walked with lighter steps, spoke in lower voices, and when their eyes met, there was always a hint of tacit worry.
Anxiety was like a cold vine, silently entwining Bai Qingchen's heart.
He no longer sat on the doorstep waiting, but slipped alone to the small corner gate in the backyard. There was a narrow gap there through which he could see the main street outside the mansion leading to the city gate.
He looked through the crack, his eyes fixed on the street, as if his parents' carriage would turn around the corner in the next moment.
When he got tired of watching, he would sit on the cold stone steps with his knees hugged, his small body curled up into a ball, silently counting the ants crawling over the wall.
The ninth day was Bai Qingchen’s ninth birthday.
Chen Bo specially changed him into a brand new indigo-colored fine cotton shirt, and on the table was a bowl of steaming longevity noodles with a poached egg.
Uncle Chen forced a smile on his wrinkled face. "Happy birthday, young master! After eating this bowl of noodles, the master and his wife will surely be back soon. They promised you that."
Bai Qingchen looked at the bowl of noodles, then at Chen Bo's forced smile, but the uneasiness in his heart was like ripples expanding in circles when a stone was thrown into the water.
He picked up his chopsticks and picked up a noodle, but he had no appetite.
"Uncle Chen," he asked quietly, his eyes fixed on the floating oil in the bowl, "Can Mom and Dad really come back today?"
"Yes!" Uncle Chen said in a firm tone, as if he was trying to convince him, and also as if he was trying to convince himself.
"Master and Madam take their promises very seriously, especially to Young Master. It must be coming soon. Young Master, go to school first and study hard. I'm sure you'll see me when I get back from school."
Bai Qingchen was half coaxed and half persuaded by Uncle Chen to go to school.
The whole morning, the Master was lecturing on the Analects in front of him. The voice of Confucius saying "Shiyun" was buzzing in his ears, and he didn't hear a single word he said.
His fingers repeatedly traced the words "Dad" and "Mom" on the rough table top. The sunlight from outside shone through the window lattice and fell on the corner of the table, forming a bright spot of light, in which tiny dust particles flew up and down.
After finally getting through school, he was almost the first one to rush out of the school door and run home.
His heart was beating like a drum in his small chest. He ran very fast. The wind whistled past his ears and the familiar scenery in the alley quickly receded.
When he was still a dozen steps away from his home, he suddenly stopped, his chest heaving violently, gasping for breath, his eyes fixed on the front.
A glaringly pale cloth banner was hung on the two familiar black-painted doors of the Bai Mansion. The banner swayed gently in the breeze, like a cold and stiff hand, waving silently.
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