Brother Chen is only thinking of Father’s well-being.

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In answer to his son’s silly question, Song Sanlang said, “Because adults are all busy during the day. The Child-Giving Goddess doesn’t want to make a wasted trip, so she chooses to deliver babies at night.”

Song Jingchen asked again, “How does the Child-Giving Goddess put babies into their mothers’ bellies?”

“She knows magic.”

“But Father, you just said there are no gods, ghosts, or monsters in this world, and told Chen’er not to be afraid.”

Song Sanlang fell silent.

“Shh—Chen’er isn’t allowed to speak anymore. You’ve already frightened the General away. How am I supposed to catch him for you?”

“All right, Father.” Song Jingchen lowered his voice to the faintest whisper.

There were plenty of crickets in the cracks between the bricks along the walls during summer, and Song Sanlang soon caught several for his son. But Song Jingchen refused them all, insisting that his General had to have a golden head.

Song Sanlang coaxed him. “A golden-crowned cricket is something you can encounter but not seek. Your father only managed to catch one last time because we were lucky. Today, our luck isn’t very good, and it’s getting late. Chen’er should go to sleep. How about I catch one for you tomorrow?”

Song Jingchen wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. “Father, you said that if you persevere, good luck will come. I believe in you. You’ll definitely catch my General.”

After saying this, the child gave Song Sanlang a great big kiss on the cheek as encouragement.

“My father is the best.”

The corner of Song Sanlang’s mouth twitched. He had no way at all to deal with the little rascal and could only continue searching.

Whether golden-topped crickets were simply too rare or his luck was truly terrible, Song Sanlang still had not caught one by the time the child fell asleep on his back.

When he carried the boy back to the room, Xiuniang was nearly asleep. She climbed up in a daze and asked, “Sanlang, why did it take you so long to catch one?”

Song Sanlang settled his son on the bed. “That uncommon one was hard to find. Go to sleep first, darling. I’ll go out and look around a little longer.”

“You’re still going out? Look at the hour! Catch one for him tomorrow. That child is far too good at tormenting people.” Xiuniang pulled Song Sanlang toward the bed.

Song Sanlang laughed. “He probably takes after you.”

“You’re always talking nonsense!”

“I meant that Chen’er takes after you in having such a sweet tongue. He keeps calling me a good father. If he doesn’t see his General first thing tomorrow morning, won’t I turn into a bad father all over again?”

Song Sanlang stroked Xiuniang’s head. “Be good. Go to sleep first. I’ll be back soon. Since I promised Chen’er, I can’t go back on my word.”

Xiuniang lifted her head. “I’ll go with you.”

“You know how to catch crickets?”

“When I was little, I often caught them for my younger brother to play with. The one you crushed for Chen’er should be a Golden-Headed Yellow-Saddled Cricket. Its call is different from that of an ordinary cricket, and I can tell them apart. That’s better than having you stumble blindly into good luck.”

“I never knew my wife was so knowledgeable.” Song Sanlang laughed.

“Stop making fun of me.” Xiuniang glared at her husband with feigned annoyance.

Song Sanlang took her hand and led her outside.

Xiuniang flushed with embarrassment. “What are you doing? What if someone sees us?”

“It’s the middle of the night. There are only ghosts out here. Where would people come from?”

…

After a whole night of searching, the couple woke later than usual the next morning, while Song Jingchen rose earlier than even the rooster.

Once children woke up, sleeping in was out of the question. He tumbled out of his little bed and scampered to the storage room next door to take a look.

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Sure enough, there was a large and fearsome golden-topped General in the cricket cage. Song Jingchen beamed, teasing it with a little stick for a while. When he grew tired of playing, he bounced out of the room.

Grand Scholar Chen was coming to visit that day, so every household rose early. Song Erlang had gotten up at dawn to sweep the courtyard yet again. Normally, sweeping the courtyard was Song Sanlang’s task.

Song Jingchen blinked and said, “Second Uncle sweeps so cleanly. Chen’er wants to run barefoot around the courtyard.”

Song Erlang was in excellent spirits, having encountered good fortune and now receiving such praise from his little nephew. He could not help smiling. “Good boy.”

Song Jingchen continued, “Father says that those who are capable should do more. From now on, Second Uncle should keep sweeping our courtyard. My father is too clumsy—he never sweeps as cleanly as Second Uncle.”

Song Erlang was speechless.

Ignoring his utterly bewildered second uncle, Song Jingchen darted off toward the garden behind the house.

The rear garden had originally been a flower garden, but it had since been converted into a vegetable plot. Xiuniang had planted several muskmelons there, and Song Jingchen went to check every day whether they were ripe. His mother had told him that once he could smell their fragrance, they were ready to pick.

After breakfast, the Old Madam made herself presentable and brought Song Erlang and Rui’er to wait at the gate in advance. A large reception would seem too ostentatious and displease Grand Scholar Chen. With the Old Madam’s status and the presence of Song Erlang and his son, their sincerity would be quite sufficient.

Rui’er insisted on bringing Chen’er along, and the Old Madam saw no harm in it. Her youngest grandson was sweet and guileless, and the flashes of cleverness that occasionally emerged from him were especially endearing.

Song Erlang could hardly stand still. One moment he was tugging at his clothes, the next smoothing his beard, then touching his topknot. He turned to the Old Madam and asked, “Mother, is there anything improper about my appearance?”

The Old Madam glanced at him and said irritably, “You’d look perfectly proper if you stopped fidgeting. Look at you—such a lack of composure. You’re not even as calm as Rui’er and Chen’er.”

Song Jingrui blushed. He was not calm; he simply had no desires, and therefore nothing to fear. Grand Scholar Chen had come because of his younger brother. He had no reason to be nervous.

Song Jingchen waited impatiently, tugging at his grandmother’s clothes. “Grandmother, I need to poop. I can’t hold it anymore.”

The Old Madam was torn between laughter and exasperation. “Go quickly, then.”

Song Jingchen clutched his little belly and dashed away. He ran back to his room, and the moment he entered, he began crying, “Ow, ow!”

Xiuniang hurried over and pulled him close. “What’s wrong?”

“Mother, my stomach hurts.”

“You were fine this morning. How did your stomach suddenly start hurting? Sanlang, come quickly and have a look. Chen’er says his stomach hurts.”

Hearing the commotion, Song Sanlang lifted the curtain and strode out from the adjoining room. “What happened?”

“The child says his stomach hurts. This morning he only had half a bowl of porridge and some steamed egg custard. He hasn’t eaten anything cold, and his belly doesn’t feel hard. Come and have a look.”

As soon as he heard his mother say this, Song Jingchen’s eyes shifted. He held his breath and deliberately pushed out his little stomach.

Song Sanlang watched him perform. His own son was a delicate little thing. Whenever he truly felt ill or uncomfortable, the first thing he did was make demands of the adults—asking for one food or another. He insisted that if he had to suffer, he ought to be compensated with something delicious.

With those guilty eyes darting about, there was no way he was really in pain.

Song Sanlang squatted down and rubbed his son’s belly. “Does it hurt badly?”

Song Jingchen hurriedly nodded. “Father, it hurts so much.”

Song Sanlang gave Xiuniang a meaningful look. “It seems rather serious. We’ll have to give him medicine. Xiuniang, go find the bitter medicine the physician prescribed last time. Give him a large bowl first. If that doesn’t work, we’ll have to take him for acupuncture.”

Understanding her husband’s signal, Xiuniang was furious but deliberately said, “Acupuncture too? Those long needles must hurt terribly when they’re stuck into the flesh.”

Song Sanlang gestured around the child’s navel. “It’s all right. Chen’er has plenty of flesh on his belly. Even if the needles go in a little deeper, it won’t matter. Three or four needles should be enough to ease the pain.”

“I don’t want medicine! I don’t want needles!” Song Jingchen protested, wrapping his arms around Song Sanlang’s neck and stamping his feet.

Song Sanlang’s expression darkened. “Be good and listen. Illnesses have to be treated. Xiuniang, I’ll hold him down. Go boil the medicine.”

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“All right. Sanlang, keep an eye on him and don’t let him run away. We’ll give it to him together later.” Holding back her laughter, Xiuniang pretended to go prepare the medicine.

Song Jingchen was dumbfounded. He hurriedly said, “Father, it doesn’t hurt anymore. It stopped hurting just now. I’m perfectly fine. I don’t want medicine.”

Song Sanlang shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt now, but it might start hurting again later. Only medicine will make sure it stops completely.”

“Waaah… Father, I don’t want medicine, and I don’t want needles!” Song Jingchen wailed.

“Chen’er is a man. It’s only bitter, so bear it and swallow it. The needle will only hurt for a little while once it enters the flesh. You saw your grandmother receive acupuncture last time. The needles weren’t even very long. Chen’er must be brave.”

Song Jingchen was terrified of pain and could not keep up the act any longer.

“Waaah… Father, I lied. My stomach doesn’t hurt.”

Song Sanlang said, “You’re only saying that to avoid taking medicine and getting acupuncture. I won’t believe you.”

Song Jingchen grew frantic. “Father, it’s true! It’s really true! I really was lying to you.”

Song Sanlang’s face turned stern. “How am I supposed to believe you? How will you prove that your stomach doesn’t hurt?”

Song Jingchen fell silent.

When the child could no longer answer, Song Sanlang said, “Tell me, then. What is really going on? Why did you say your stomach hurt?”

Song Jingchen sniffled as tears spilled down his cheeks.

Song Sanlang said sternly, “Stop crying.”

The tears kept falling.

“One, two…”

Before he could count to three, Song Jingchen lifted his head and forced the tears back.

Song Sanlang said coldly, “Stand up straight!”

Song Jingchen knew how to read a room. He could tell that his father was genuinely angry this time, so he obediently stood straight.

“Tell me. Why did you lie to the adults and say your stomach hurt?”

Song Jingchen did not dare conceal the truth. “I don’t want to meet that Grand Scholar Chen.”

“Why don’t you want to meet him?”

“What if he likes Chen’er the way Uncle Li does? Father already promised Uncle Li that I would become Grandmaster Xiao’s disciple. If Grand Scholar Chen also wants to take me as his disciple, what will you do?”

“If you refuse him, he’ll become angry. He’ll think that Grandmaster Xiao is more impressive in your heart and that you look down on him. He might even be so angry that he refuses to take Big Brother as his disciple too.”

Song Sanlang was stunned by his son’s words. Could a child this young really think of all that?

But the real question was, why was this little rascal so confident that everyone in the world adored him?

Seeing his father’s expression soften, Song Jingchen slowly edged closer until he was nestled against Song Sanlang’s chest. With great tears still clinging to his eyes, he complained pitifully, “Father, why were you so fierce just now? You scolded Chen’er without even listening to my explanation. I was scared.”

After hearing the child’s explanation, Song Sanlang felt somewhat awkward. He rubbed his nose and kept his face stern. “You could have explained things to Father instead of lying to deceive me.”

“Chen’er was thinking of Father.”

Song Sanlang was speechless.