Chapter 5: Dad, I Want to Find You a Wife

When Chen Yansen sprinted out of Beiyi Alley, he awkwardly realized he’d left his bicycle outside the internet cafe.

With no other means of transport, he had no choice but to head back.

“Huh? Back again?”

Wang Zihao, stepping out of the internet cafe, called to his older brother.

“Hey there, if it isn’t Zihao—girlhood truly transforms a girl.”

Chen Yansen stopped, grinning as he greeted her.

“But you came over to my house for dinner yesterday.”

Wang Zihao pouted her pink, glossy lips, feigning annoyance.

“Haha, really?”

Chen Yansen unlocked the bike, casually brushing her off.

He planned to keep his distance from Wang Zihao and minimize contact.

“Brother Chen, I’ve taken care of the two things you asked me to do—completely.”

Wang Zihao, standing beside him, assumed Chen Yansen had returned because he doubted his reliability, so he puffed out his chest and swore.

“Alright, see you tomorrow.”

Chen Yansen caught the unspoken implication—Wang Zihao wanted to invest money and join him in reselling MP3s and MP4s.

He nodded, waved goodbye.

“Bro, what did Chen Yansen ask you to do?”

Only when Chen Yansen’s figure had vanished did Wang Zihao finally ask.

“Nothing.”

Wang Zihao shook his head, avoiding her gaze.

After all, if Chen Yansen’s theft for business got discovered, he’d be beaten to a pulp.

Brother Hao operated on one principle: loyalty.

Even his own sister couldn’t be told!

“Really?”

Wang Zihao narrowed her slender peach-blossom eyes, staring straight at her brother with a sweet smile.

“Believe it or not.”

Wang Zihao’s guilty conscience made him stiffen his neck and refuse to speak.

There was no way to compete with her intellectually.

Her mental agility, her ability to comprehend and solve complex problems—both left him far behind.

He burned the midnight oil just to get into Chunshen No. 2 High;

while Wang Zihao, who’d never attended a single tutoring session, ranked first in grade and was pre-admitted by Chunshen No. 1 High.

One school was municipal key; the other, provincial key—the gap spoke for itself.

He feared saying more would only reveal more flaws.

“Don’t think you can fool me.”

Wang Zihao snorted softly, muttering under her breath.

…

…

Chen Yansen rode his bicycle, stopping and starting along the way, ate at a noodle shop on Beijie, then slowly turned into an alley.

He cycled three hundred meters east, and a familiar bookstore came into view.

Guobin Bookstore.

Chen Yansen stood at the door, staring at the middle-aged man inside stacking books, lost in thought.

So this was what old Chen already looked like.

He was only forty, yet half his hair was white; his once-straight posture now slightly hunched.

“Had lunch yet?”

Chen Guobin had just neatly arranged the latest editions of Reader and Youth Digest when he spotted a boy at the door.

His side-swept bangs were gone, replaced by neat, clean short hair.

He bore a faint resemblance to Chen Guobin in his youth, but his eyes and brows were clearly his mother’s.

“A bowl of knife-cut noodles, two ounces of pot stickers—I brought you some too.”

Chen Yansen’s emotions churned. He’d wanted to hug old Chen, but feared startling him; finally, he sighed and pretended it was casual.

“Huh? Thanks, son.”

Chen Guobin froze, instinctively taking the takeout bag.

Feeling the warmth of the food, he realized for the first time: his son had changed.

But his stubborn nature kept him from speaking tender words. With a stiff, awkward “thank you,” he fished a hundred-yuan note from his pocket and shoved it into Chen Yansen’s hand.

He muttered for him to eat more—he was still growing.

“Old Chen, I want to learn to drive.”

Chen Yansen didn’t hesitate—he slipped the money into his pocket, sat across from Chen Guobin, and spoke bluntly.

“Learn to drive?”

Chen Guobin paused mid-chopstick, then nodded. “Men should learn to drive.”

He’d once suggested his son get his license during summer break, but Chen Yansen’s head was full of Zhou Keyuan, internet cafes, and pool halls—they argued, then dropped it.

“Shall I call your third uncle?”

Chen Guobin frowned after a moment’s thought.

“Is there only one driving school in Chunshen?”

Chen Yansen countered.

He knew perfectly well the real relationship between old Chen and his three uncles—during holidays, they barely exchanged greetings; asking for favors now would only bring sneers and mockery.

“Alright, I understand.”

Hearing his son say that, Chen Guobin exhaled in relief.

Since his wife’s death, he’d only visited the Liang family once. His in-laws’ every word implied he was worthless, a curse who’d killed their daughter.

His elder and second brothers-in-law despised him; even the youngest, though gentler, wasn’t much better.

Only as Chen Yansen grew older had relations eased—still, it was limited to New Year’s Day visits.

“Huizhen, it seems our son has finally grown up.”

Chen Guobin lowered his head to finish his noodles, warmth spreading through his heart.

“Old Chen, can I ask you something?”

Chen Yansen watched him, waiting until he finished his noodles before asking carefully.

“What is it?”

Chen Guobin was in good spirits, and seeing his son so serious, he sat up straight, ready to listen.

“You’re only forty—really not thinking about finding a wife? Last parent-teacher meeting, Meng Jun’s mom said you’re mature and handsome, with a third of Liu Dehua’s charm and a scholarly air…”

Chen Yansen spoke slowly, his expression not joking at all.

Chen Guobin’s smile froze. His mouth hung open, as if his soul had left his body.

“You don’t like the curvy type? Actually, our homeroom teacher, Zhang Li, is interested in you too—and she’s only thirty-three, still able to have kids!”

Seeing his reaction, Chen Yansen assumed old Chen disliked fuller figures and quickly switched candidates.

“You little bastard—I’ll beat you to death!”

Chen Guobin’s face flushed red. He roared, snatched up a ruler, and swung it hard at Chen Yansen’s head.

“Old Chen, do you have any conscience? I’m trying to find you a wife, and this is how you treat me!”

Chen Yansen leapt back, bolted out of the bookstore, and shouted from the doorway.

The tender moment between father and son hadn’t even lasted ten minutes.

“Old Chen, your son’s truly filial!”

“Hahaha, finding his own stepmother—only he could pull that off!”

“Bingge, Yan Sen’s got a point!”

Nearby shop owners poked their heads out to watch. Several familiar uncles even laughed and teased aloud.

“Brat, get back in here!”

Chen Guobin scowled, furious.

“Old Chen, don’t doubt me—our homeroom teacher really can still have kids. I wouldn’t mind having a younger brother or sister.”

Chen Yansen wasn’t intimidated—he stood at the door, pressing on.

“Student Chen Yansen, what did you just say? Teacher didn’t hear clearly—could you repeat it?”

Zhang Li, holding her lesson plan nearby, gritted her teeth, her ballpoint pen crushed in her fist.

Chen Yansen slowly turned, offering an awkward but polite smile: “Teacher Zhang, hello. Teacher Zhang, goodbye.”

Without even asking for driving school fees, he hopped on his bike and fled immediately.

“Teacher Zhang, kids don’t know any better—please don’t take it to heart.”

Chen Guobin nervously rubbed his hands, cursing internally, forcing a pained smile.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

Zhang Li also looked embarrassed, quickly finished the greetings and farewells, then left without looking back.

(End of Chapter)