AGN -Chapter 468 Shengsheng (Part 9)

In the days that followed, the three of Chen Qiusheng hardly went out.

Zhao Cheng’an was ordered by Chen Qiusheng to stay at home and not step outside. Chen Ping’an would sometimes go out in the early afternoon and return quickly, while Chen Qiusheng himself would quietly leave every night and be gone for several hours. To keep Zhao Cheng’an from feeling it was unfair that only he was confined, he was given unlimited food during his grounding.

Only the best was chosen—whatever was expensive, they ate. Smoked chicken, cured meat, pork head meat, offal, white rice, white flour, pastries, candied fruits, nuts—everything was freely available, and most of it ended up in Zhao Cheng’an’s stomach.

Chen Ping’an had a small appetite due to poor health, and Chen Qiusheng, being old, could not eat much greasy food. Only Zhao Cheng’an went all out, eating as if he wanted to finish even Xia Murui’s share for him.

When they were not eating or going out, the three stayed in Chen Ping’an’s room, where Chen Qiusheng watched him teach Zhao Cheng’an how to write.

Zhao Cheng’an was only a bit mentally unusual in the sense that he thought differently from normal people—more like a spirit at heart—but that did not mean he was stupid. From Chen Ping’an’s skilled teaching, Qin Huai could tell that over the years Chen Ping’an had taught him a lot. Zhao Cheng’an was not illiterate; he recognized all the characters in Chen Ping’an’s textbooks, could do arithmetic, understood quadratic equations, could read English, and even grasped some physics formulas.

He was simply lazy about writing and rarely practiced. Now that he was stuck at home with nothing to do, he had no choice but to practice properly under Chen Ping’an’s supervision. He practiced both brush calligraphy and pen writing, but the results were always crooked and messy—standard elementary-school handwriting, ugly beyond saving.

Chen Qiusheng stood by watching Zhao Cheng’an write and kept shaking his head. After Zhao finished two pages of large characters, Chen Qiusheng couldn’t help but complain that it was a good thing they hadn’t sent him to a children’s school to learn writing back then, otherwise it would have been a total waste of money.

That immediately angered Zhao Cheng’an, who declared he would stop writing altogether—no more writing even a single character.

Chen Ping’an laughed and asked, under normal circumstances, wouldn’t someone respond to such ridicule by working harder to prove themselves? Why did Zhao Cheng’an just throw the brush away and quit?

To this, Zhao Cheng’an said matter-of-factly:

“That’s what only Xia Murui, that stubborn fool, would do. If someone says he can’t, he’ll secretly practice until he can. But what’s the point of others saying things? There are plenty of things I can’t do. If I can’t do it, then I can’t. If I can’t in this life, I’ll just do it in the next.”

Chen Ping’an smiled helplessly. “A-Sheng, you still believe in reincarnation like that?”

Zhao Cheng’an shook his head seriously. “It’s not that everyone has reincarnation. You all don’t have it. Only I do.”

“More accurately, I don’t have it yet either. If I work a bit harder, then I’ll have it.”

“So only I can die casually. You all can’t. I promised Xia Murui before he left—I’d take care of you all. If anyone has to die, I’ll be the first.”

“Pah, pah, pah! What nonsense are you talking about?” Chen Qiusheng smacked him hard on the head. “A gentleman doesn’t speak of strange and chaotic things. Don’t talk nonsense.”

“Father,” Chen Ping’an said weakly, “that proverb doesn’t seem to mean that…”

Chen Qiusheng glared at him. “Don’t be pedantic at a time like this.”

Zhao Cheng’an, having been hit, immediately shifted his attention elsewhere.

“Master, do we still have flour at home? Let’s make dumplings tonight—make a lot of them.”

“There is flour, but no more meat,” Chen Qiusheng replied. “Only a bit of cured meat left. If we want dumplings, we’ll have to chop the cured meat and mix it with mashed potatoes. Potato dumplings.”

“Potato dumplings are good too!” Zhao Cheng’an said happily. “Master, let’s stop practicing writing and go make dumplings. I’ll knead the dough!”

Chen Ping’an also smiled and helped persuade him. “Yes, Father, we’ve been staying home for days. Either I’m reading stories to you or teaching A-Sheng to write. We should do something else.”

“I can’t help with cooking, but I can peel potatoes,” he added.

Chen Qiusheng stared at Zhao Cheng’an for a while, his expression softening. Finally, he nodded.

“Alright. We’ll make dumplings.”

“Great! No more writing!” Zhao Cheng’an cheered and ran toward the kitchen. Chen Ping’an and Chen Qiusheng followed behind. By the time Zhao Cheng’an disappeared into the kitchen, Chen Ping’an finally spoke hesitantly.

“Father… I heard Beijing might not hold. Langfang has already fallen, and the defenders are retreating to Nanyuan. Things don’t look good. Keeping A-Sheng here in Beijing… is it really okay?”

Chen Qiusheng shook his head, signaling him to stop.

“At this point, there’s nowhere to run anyway. I sneaked out two nights ago to see if I could find a way to send A-Sheng away. At that time Langfang hadn’t even fallen yet, and we already couldn’t leave the city. Now it’s even worse.”

He sighed.

“At first I thought A-Sheng was simple-minded. If he went south, unfamiliar place, Xia Murui wouldn’t be able to control him, and he might offend people stealing things. That wouldn’t be safe. So I hesitated.”

“But now I regret it again.”

“Is the south safe? Is staying in Beijing safe? What those beasts did outside the pass—won’t they do the same here?”

“I have my selfish reasons. Your health is poor, and I’m already old. If both A-Sheng and Xia Murui went south, leaving just the two of us here, it wouldn’t feel safe either. With A-Sheng here, at least you have some protection.”

“But these past few days, I’ve been thinking more and more. I can’t sleep at night. I keep feeling like keeping A-Sheng here… might be harming him.”

Chen Ping’an lowered his head, dejected.

“Father… I’m the one holding you and A-Sheng back. If it weren’t for me, you would have already gone to Jinling.”

“Foolish child. What dragging down are you talking about?”

Just as the atmosphere grew heavy, Zhao Cheng’an suddenly rushed in from the doorway.

“Ping’an! Master! Why aren’t you coming to make dumplings? I’ve already washed the potatoes! You’re not going to back out, are you? I really want dumplings!”

“Why the rush?” Chen Qiusheng said sternly. “We’ll knead the dough after washing the potatoes. If you want to eat, help more. Ping’an and I still have things to discuss.”

“Alright.” Zhao Cheng’an obediently left and went back to the kitchen.

Chen Qiusheng then continued: “However, things aren’t entirely bad. I’ve checked the house left to us by the Li family. It has two cellars, and one of them is very hidden—it can be used to hide people.”

“Based on the current situation, those Japanese soldiers will probably break in within the next couple of days. We can’t stay here anymore. After we finish the dumplings, pack everything we can. Tonight after midnight, we move there.”

“We’ll live directly in the cellar. Don’t let anyone know the house is occupied. That’s the safest way.”

“Yes, Father.”

After the discussion, Chen Qiusheng and Chen Ping’an pretended nothing was wrong and went into the kitchen.

Inside, Zhao Cheng’an was already kneading dough. Seeing them arrive late, he proudly said:

“Master, look—I washed and cut the potatoes, and I’m kneading the dough too. This dumpling basically counts as something I made alone.”

Chen Qiusheng laughed. “Yes, yes, all yours.”

Since Chen Ping’an’s only job had already been taken, he stood beside Zhao Cheng’an watching him knead dough.

After a while, he couldn’t help asking:

“A-Sheng, you used to call my father ‘Master Chen,’ so why have you started calling him ‘Master’ these past few days?”

Chen Qiusheng also slightly turned his head, clearly listening.

Zhao Cheng’an replied casually: “Because Xia Murui is gone. Now no one calls him ‘Master’ anymore. I see he hasn’t been sleeping well either—either tossing and turning in his room making the bed creak so I can’t sleep, or sneaking out at night. He must miss Xia Murui.”

“No one calls him Master anymore, so I’ll call him that on Xia Murui’s behalf.”

Chen Qiusheng: …

From Chen Qiusheng’s expression, Qin Huai felt that he very much wanted to throw the sliced cured meat straight onto Zhao Cheng’an’s face—but considering that this was the last bit of cured meat left at home, he held himself back.

The three of them spent half the afternoon making dumplings with all the remaining potatoes and flour in the house. That night, they cooked a whole large pot of dumplings. Zhao Cheng’an alone ate three big bowls and kept burping nonstop.

After the meal, Chen Qiusheng said, “A-Sheng, pack up all the grain we can take, and anything you like. Tonight we’re moving to the Li family’s old residence.”

Hearing this, Zhao Cheng’an’s eyes lit up. He almost cheered on the spot. “From today on, I can live in that big house and sleep in a big room?”

“No,” Chen Ping’an shook his head. “We’ll be living in the cellar.”

Zhao Cheng’an clearly couldn’t understand why they would give up a proper house and instead live in a dark, damp, cramped cellar.

Chen Ping’an spent five or six minutes explaining the situation and the risks ahead, and what their life might look like for a long time to come. After hearing that they would be living in a cellar, eating coarse buns, millet flour, and drinking cold water, Zhao Cheng’an sighed deeply at his miserable future.

Just when Chen Ping’an thought he would start complaining, Zhao Cheng’an merely said helplessly, “Sigh… there’s nothing we can do. So once we move into the cellar, does that mean I can go out at night to steal things?”

Chen Ping’an & Chen Qiusheng & Qin Huai: …

Qin Huai felt that it was truly fortunate that Zhao Cheng’an became a pastry chef in this life instead of a thief. That was entirely thanks to Chen Qiusheng and Chen Ping’an’s upbringing in his first life.

Chen Qiusheng immediately said, “It’ll be very dangerous outside. Don’t steal if you can avoid it. No—absolutely, under no circumstances are you allowed to steal unless it’s a last resort!”

Zhao Cheng’an nodded disappointedly. “Alright then.”

That night, the three of them packed everything they needed from the house.

The Chen household was actually not large. Apart from the courtyard, there were only a few rooms, and not much decent furniture. But even a broken house felt valuable when leaving it behind—everything seemed worth taking. Pots, bowls, jars, pens, ink, paper, clothes… If it hadn’t been impossible to carry, Zhao Cheng’an even wanted to take the small stool from his room.

Of course, moving secretly meant they couldn’t use carts or donkeys. Everything had to be carried on their backs.

Chen Ping’an’s health was weak; a small cloth bag was already his limit. Expecting him to carry anything heavy was unrealistic.

If it had been a few years earlier, Chen Qiusheng could have been the main laborer. But now he was indeed old; his physical strength had declined, and heavy lifting had to rely on Zhao Cheng’an.

At times like this, Zhao Cheng’an truly showed the value of the “King of Thieves of Beijing.”

Over the years, he hadn’t studied much, barely practiced calligraphy, and his cooking skills lagged far behind Xia Murui. But his stealing skills had never declined. Every year he went outside the city to practice on traffickers.

He would steal for half a month at a time—several sacks a day. It trained his technique, his strength, and his carrying ability.

All that hard practice was put to use tonight.

As the King of Thieves, stealing was only one of Zhao Cheng’an’s ordinary skills—transporting goods was the real specialty.

The Li family’s old residence was seven to eight li away from their home. It was too far for Chen Ping’an to walk there in the dark. Chen Qiusheng had to go with him, so the responsibility of moving items fell entirely on Zhao Cheng’an.

Zhao Cheng’an carried things with astonishing speed and accuracy. He could run with a sack on his shoulder without making a sound, moving so fast that he was almost invisible in the night.

Qin Huai followed behind him, not daring to lose focus for even a second. If he blinked, Zhao Cheng’an would already be gone.

While Chen Qiusheng and Chen Ping’an made one trip, Zhao Cheng’an completed a round trip—and even brought back the small stool he had been thinking about.

If Chen Qiusheng hadn’t firmly stopped him, Zhao Cheng’an would have gone back again to carry the cabinet. He really couldn’t bear to part with it.

After moving into the new place—though it was only the cellar—Zhao Cheng’an still insisted on a sense of ceremony and laid straw to make everyone a soft bedding.

When they realized the cellar was too dark to see anything and there wasn’t enough candlelight or oil, Zhao Cheng’an even asked Chen Qiusheng if he could go steal some lamp oil the next night so Chen Ping’an could read and recite stories for them. Chen Qiusheng firmly rejected the idea. Zhao Cheng’an reluctantly went to sleep.

That night, chaos erupted in Beijing.

Even from inside the cellar, the Chen family could hear the noise outside.

Crying, shouting, groaning, screaming, gunfire, heavy impacts, chaotic footsteps—it never stopped.

Qin Huai was familiar with these sounds; he had heard even more horrific ones in Luo Jun’s memories.

But the three people in the cellar were not “Bifang”—they did not have the ability to sit on the ground during bombardments and read newspapers by firelight.

They were simply ordinary people in a chaotic world, hiding in a cellar just to survive.

They lay on the straw, none of them truly asleep. Qin Huai could not see their expressions in the darkness, but he could tell their breathing was uneven.

After an unknown amount of time, Zhao Cheng’an said, “Sleep.”

“With me here, I won’t let you die before me.”

“I will definitely die before you all. I just haven’t found the method yet. I can’t die yet—and neither can you.”

“Pah, pah, pah. Stop saying such unlucky things,” Chen Qiusheng scolded, though he did not hit Zhao Cheng’an this time.

“Sleep. You’ll get used to it.”

Chen Qiusheng let out a long sigh.