Chapter 58: Chapter Fifty-One: You

Director Fang, accompanied by Assistant Yan, drove to the villa district and stopped at Chen Yan’s front gate. Assistant Yan pressed the doorbell, and soon after, the courtyard gate swung open from within, revealing a thin, small old man.

Director Fang and Assistant Yan both froze.

The old man before them was shorter than average, emaciated, with eyes like beans, a flattened nose, and an overall hunched, timid appearance.

He wore a traditional front-buttoned jacket; on an ordinary elder, such attire might lend dignity, but on him, it looked oddly out of place.

“Who are you?” asked Gui Geng—formerly known as Old Turtle—formally.

Director Fang said nothing. Assistant Yan quickly bowed politely: “We’ve come to visit Mr. Chen Yan.”

“Oh, the young master’s guest,” said Gui Geng, his head bobbing as if shrinking inward. “The young master is out on business. He’s not home.”

Young master?

Both Director Fang and Assistant Yan were startled by the term.

In today’s society, who still used such a title, except for genuine aristocratic families?

“Sir, are you… Mr. Chen Yan’s elder?” Assistant Yan ventured.

“I dare not,” Gui Geng shook his head. “I’m merely a steward.”

Steward?

So Little Teacher Chen really isn’t an ordinary man—now there’s a young master and a steward?

Director Fang glanced at Assistant Yan, who subtly shook his head—indicating he’d never seen this man during his previous visits.

Though Gui Geng was a tortoise cultivator, he carried out his duties as steward with surprising propriety. He cleared his throat: “Since you’re the young master’s guest, please come in and sit. Though the young master is away, the mistress is at home.”

Another mistress? Did that mean Little Teacher Chen’s mother had arrived?

The term “mistress” left both Director Fang and Assistant Yan confused.

Director Fang immediately smiled: “If an elder is at home, we must pay our respects according to proper etiquette.”

Gui Geng stepped aside to open the door. Director Fang limped inside. Assistant Yan instructed Gui Geng to open the courtyard gate so the car could reverse in, then directed the driver to unload the gifts from the vehicle.

Director Fang followed Gui Geng through the courtyard to the villa’s front door.

As soon as the door opened, standing in the foyer, he saw a slender, graceful figure seated on the living room sofa.

Director Fang froze.

Gui Geng walked in, the little old man smiling: “Mistress, there are visitors—friends of Young Master Chen.”

Gu Qingyi turned her head, sizing up Director Fang at the door. A flicker of nervousness crossed her eyes.

The girl sat cross-legged on the sofa, holding a bowl of instant noodles in her left hand, chopsticks in her right, her large, bright eyes fixed on the man entering.

Director Fang was stunned.

It wasn’t lust—he was stunned because…

This is the mistress?!

Though Director Fang hadn’t studied much, over the years he’d dealt with many traditional Daoist practitioners. He understood the nuances of titles.

This girl—was she the mistress?

Judging by her age, if she’d given birth to a son like Chen Yan…

It would defy biology itself!

That doesn’t make sense.

If this girl were Chen Yan’s romantic partner, she should be called the young mistress—not the mistress.

Lost in these thoughts, the usually sharp Director Fang momentarily forgot how to speak.

Gu Qingyi slurped a mouthful of noodles, tilted her head back, and swallowed. She quickly set down bowl and chopsticks, then took a deep breath.

The girl feigned calm: “Hmm, you’re Mr. Chen Yan’s guest? Please come in.”

Her words snapped Director Fang back to reality. He chuckled awkwardly and stepped into the living room.

Gu Qingyi sat on the sofa, staring at Director Fang, then quietly uncrossed her legs and sat properly.

In the past, in internet cafés, she’d seen countless people and never cared—but now… her position felt awkward.

Because… this time, she was his legitimate mother-in-law.

Hmm… how was one supposed to act as a legitimate mother-in-law?

How should I introduce myself?

Gu Xiaoniang was at a loss.

She cleared her throat, feigning composure as she glanced at Gui Geng beside her: “Go, prepare some tea.”

Director Fang’s heart stirred—such a sweet voice—but why did it carry the accent of Dongsanzhou?

Gui Geng also froze.

What did she just say?

I just learned how to use a vacuum cleaner today.

Tea? I don’t know how to make it!

“No, no, no need to trouble yourselves—I’ll just sit a bit and leave.”

Director Fang waved his hand, sat down on the sofa, and studied Gu Qingyi. Now that he’d recovered, even with his vast experience, he couldn’t help but be struck by her beauty.

Such a woman truly suited the capable Little Teacher Chen… but then—what was this mistress business?

Are young people today really that wild?

Or is this some kind of roleplay?

Director Fang kept these thoughts to himself—he’d never survive if he voiced them aloud.

“Er… I’m Director Fang. I’m a friend of Mr. Chen Yan. He helped me with some matters before. With the New Year coming, I brought some holiday gifts.”

“Alright, Gui Geng, go bring them in.”

Huh?

Director Fang hadn’t even finished his polite refusal.

Er… she’s quite direct?

“When will Mr. Chen Yan return?”

“I don’t know,” Gu Qingyi shook her head. “He went out to buy things. He should be back for dinner.”

As she spoke, she glanced at the digital clock on the small table—slightly annoyed.

That guy had been gone nearly a full day.

She didn’t dare say it aloud—she’d been hungry all day.

Poor Gu Xiaoniang had only learned how to make instant noodles these past few days. She’d just made a bowl, barely swallowed one mouthful, when she was interrupted.

Director Fang smiled warmly at the young girl—her beauty was unlike anything he’d ever seen, yet she seemed stiff and tense.

He wanted to wait for Chen Yan’s return. Since he’d come to deliver gifts, it was best to deliver them in person—only then would the gesture land properly.

His eyes swept the room, then landed on the bowl and chopsticks on the small table beside the sofa.

An idea struck him. He smiled at Gu Qingyi: “May I ask how you and Mr. Chen Yan are related?”

“Hmm…” Gu Qingyi wasn’t foolish. She knew saying “I’m his legitimate mother-in-law” would be too shocking, so she hedged: “I’m a relative, an elder.”

Elder? Director Fang paused, then understood—it wasn’t strange. Probably some distant clan relative. In the countryside, it was common for people of similar age to have large generational gaps.

He himself had a distant uncle-by-marriage back home who was still in middle school.

Right—distant relative, higher generation. As long as they were beyond the fifth degree of kinship, young people dating wasn’t scandalous.

Director Fang exchanged a few casual remarks and noticed the girl answered each question thoughtfully, pausing before every reply—clearly nervous.

Yet… during the small silences, her eyes kept drifting toward the bowl of noodles?

Director Fang laughed: “I don’t mean to scold, but young people today are so careless about food. Instant noodles are fine occasionally, but eating too much is bad for your health.”

Gu Qingyi pouted, glanced at the bowl—it was nearly dry—and shook her head: “Chen Yan’s not home. I don’t know how to cook.”

“Ah?” Director Fang grinned. “Then since we’ve met, why not let me treat you? I’ve always wanted to invite Mr. Chen Yan to dinner. Today’s perfect—I’ll host.”

He waved to Assistant Yan, who stood by the living room door: “Find a nearby restaurant, order a full banquet, and have it delivered.”

“Yes,” Assistant Yan nodded, then turned to Gu Qingyi: “Do you have any dietary restrictions?”

“I don’t eat beef.”

“Noted.”

Assistant Yan smiled politely, then turned and stepped out to make the call.

Gu Qingyi turned to Director Fang, her face breaking into a genuine, happy smile. Softly, earnestly, she said: “Director Fang, you’re a very good person.”

·

When Chen Yan returned home, night had already fallen.

As soon as he entered the courtyard, he saw Gui Geng waving at him from the gate.

“Young master, we have guests.”

“Hmm?” Chen Yan strode forward, tossing the bundle of red candles and other items he’d bought into Gui Geng’s arms. “Who?”

“A man surnamed Fang.”

Chen Yan immediately guessed who it was. Sure enough, inside, he saw Director Fang seated in the dining room, where a full table of dishes had already been laid out.

“Little Teacher Chen!” Director Fang leapt up at the sight of Chen Yan, limping forward to grasp his hand and shake it vigorously. “I came unannounced—please don’t take offense!”

Chen Yan smiled warmly: “Director Fang, you’re too kind. Your leg’s still not well—no need to go through such trouble.”

“I truly want to be your friend, Little Teacher Chen! Just don’t treat me like a stranger.” Director Fang laughed. “I knew no one was cooking at home, so I took the liberty of arranging for some meals to be delivered. Just in time—you arrived right after they did.”

Chen Yan glanced silently at the lavish spread on the table, then noticed Gu Qingyi stepping out of the kitchen.

Gu Qingyi walked over, her face slightly flushed, speaking softly: “That… Director Fang brought you so many gifts.”

Her naturally high-pitched, soft voice always sounded innocent—even when she spoke plainly, it carried a hint of coyness.

Chen Yan nodded, and the other sighed: “Such a generous gesture from General Fang really makes me feel embarrassed.”

“Just a small token—I prepared some New Year goods for clients and friends, and happened to set aside one for your place,” General Fang waved his hand repeatedly.

“Alright, then I won’t be polite.” Chen Yan glanced at the dining table: “Since we’re here, let me borrow these dishes to offer a toast—let’s eat and chat together, General Fang, please take your seat.”

At dinner, General Fang had intended to send his assistant to the car for two bottles of fine wine—he was a seasoned businessman who always kept a few bottles on hand. But Chen Yan insisted he didn’t drink, so he gave up the idea.

Yet as the meal neared its end, General Fang cast a thoughtful glance at Gu Qingyi, sitting beside Chen Yan, earnestly shoveling rice into her mouth…

He called his assistant over and whispered two instructions.

The assistant immediately stepped out and returned moments later, holding a finely wrapped gift bag.

“I came in a hurry and only prepared New Year goods—I never realized your household included a lady! My oversight! This item is my New Year gift to Miss Gu.”

The bag bore two interlocked letters, C—one upright, one inverted. Inside was a woman’s handbag, originally bought by General Fang to take home and appease his wife.

Seeing a young, beautiful woman living with Chen Yan, he’d simply decided to give it away.

As for “mistress” or “elder,” General Fang thought those were just playful terms the young used.

This girl lived with Chen Yan, and when she spoke to him, she seemed shy and hesitant.

If these two aren’t a couple, I’ll pluck out my own eyeballs!

General Fang was crystal clear in his mind: pleasing this girl might be more effective than directly courting Little Teacher Chen.

Indeed!

Chen Yan glanced at the bag, paused briefly, then nodded: “General Fang, your kindness is too great to refuse. Then, in a couple of days, I’ll pay you a visit. Earlier you mentioned wanting to collect talismans—I’ll prepare one for you then.”

General Fang didn’t know Chen Yan accepted it simply because he was too lazy to explain his complicated relationship with Gu Qingyi.

A handbag with a perfume charm? He’d just send her a Bai Yu amulet in return later.

Hearing this, General Fang beamed with joy. Though no wine graced the table, he raised his teacup to toast Chen Yan.

The meal ended with mutual delight.

After bidding farewell, as Chen Yan saw General Fang to the courtyard gate, the latter lowered his voice: “Today, Zi Lao from Luoyun Zhai came to see me and delivered compensation—clearly seeking reconciliation.”

Chen Yan nodded, smiling knowingly: “Then the house repair project is officially complete.”

“This money only came after you intervened. So my thought is—I’ll transfer half of it to your account…”

“No need,” Chen Yan refused immediately. “General Fang, you already paid for the repairs. I prefer clear accounts. The compensation you received is for the hardships you endured. I won’t take a single coin.”

His words stunned General Fang. After a moment’s thought, he nodded firmly: “Good! Little Teacher Chen, we’ll take our time getting to know each other. I, Fang the Fatty, never let a friend lose out.”

After seeing off General Fang and his assistant, Chen Yan returned home to find Gu Qingyi busy in the kitchen.

Miss Gu dug out two insulated food containers and filled them with dishes.

“What are you doing?”

“I saved two dishes from today’s meal.”

“To eat tomorrow? No need—leftovers aren’t good for your health.”

“Not for tomorrow,” Gu Qingyi shook her head. “I’m going out. I’ll be back later.”

The two dishes saved were chestnut-braised pork and fermented rice balls.

Gu Qingyi remembered—the shopkeeper’s wife had said these were her favorites.

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