DCTMOAS Chapter 46

In order not to dredge up Chu cheng’s grief over his grandfather’s passing, Yu Siting didn’t dig deeper into the topic.

Instead, he turned to look at the other photo frames arranged in the bookcase. The images captured in those frames were mostly memories from Teacher Chu’s younger days — like silent yet vividly interesting little stories, bearing the traces of time flowing by.

The most eye-catching of these was undoubtedly the multi-compartment frame at the center of the shelf. Nine photos were mounted together, all with the same corner of the Chu family courtyard as their background — but the person in front of the camera was steadily growing up.

In this series, Chu Cheng transformed from a naive child of three or four into a bright, handsome teenager, while the tree behind him grew from a slender sapling into a lush, flourishing giant.

Yu Siting’s gaze lingered there.

If he remembered correctly, that tree should be…

“That’s my ‘child bride,’” Chu Cheng explained.

“It’s still in the courtyard — I saw it when I came in,” Yu Siting recalled the scene from earlier. The two of them had passed through the corridor and seen that snow-dusted tree trunk.

Chu Cheng nodded in confirmation. “Yes. It was planted by my family when I was very little — it’s almost exactly the same age as me.”

“So your custom here is to call a tree like that your child bride?” Yu Siting’s question carried a teasing tone.

“Seems like today, Teacher Yu is dead set on digging up all my embarrassing stories.” Though Chu Cheng said this, he didn’t mind him knowing such things; he generously began to share the whole tale.

“Because I always suffered from being the youngest, always falling short of others, I desperately hoped that one of the neighboring families would have an even younger child. I had a childhood friend named Shao Ji — he was ten years older than me. He once tricked me, saying that the Chu family had always wanted a daughter, and that Professor Jin even planted a ‘daughter tree’ in the courtyard. But for some reason, that tree never took root — maybe it was fate that they’d only ever have sons. But if I took good care of the sapling, helped it bloom and bear fruit, then one day my parents would surely give me a little sister.”

When young Chu Cheng heard this, he immediately ran to his father to ask what a ‘daughter tree’ was. His father told him it was a camphor tree.

His father explained that in the old days, noble families in Jiangnan had such a custom: if they had a daughter, they would plant a few camphor trees in the front courtyard. By the time the daughter grew up, the trees would also be grown — they’d be cut down to make dowry chests for her wedding.

“I was so young then, easy to fool — I totally believed what Shao Ji said. Even though I was barely taller than the cupboard, I still had the patience to care for that tree, visiting it three times a day, morning, noon, and night. Later, it became a habit, and I grew attached to it. I even recited poems and read books to it, talking to it whenever I had nothing better to do — I’d tell it my troubles too.”

Thinking back on it now, Chu Cheng still found the whole thing unbearable to recall — if he’d had even an elementary school diploma at the time, maybe he wouldn’t have been played like a fool by that bunch of mischievous friends.

Yu Siting seemed to be listening with great relish and pressed on, “So what happened after that?”

“After that, the tree was moved by my devotion.” Chu Cheng rubbed his eyes, clearly weary at the memory, but continued anyway.

“About three years later, it really did bloom. In late spring, pure white blossoms covered the whole tree like cascading little waterfalls. I was over the moon — I pestered my family all day long to go look at it with me. Professor Jin had always known I liked that tree, but she didn’t know the real reason why. When she saw how happy I was, she specially asked someone to gather the flowers and make them into a treat for me.”

Yu Siting had actually sensed something was off the whole time, but he didn’t interrupt — until now. He just couldn’t help himself: “Hold on a sec…”

Chu Cheng cut him off first: “I know what you’re about to say — camphor trees can’t bloom with such spectacular waterfall-like flowers, and you definitely can’t eat them either. I figured out I’d been tricked soon enough, because when they brought me the treats, they told me they were made from locust blossoms.”

At that moment, Young Master Chu’s entire world turned gray.

After hearing such a “tragic” tale, Yu Siting couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips. Imagining it from a child’s perspective, he asked, “You must’ve… cried your eyes out, huh?”

Chu Cheng rolled his eyes dramatically. “Yeah — except for me, everyone else was laughing their heads off.”

It was only much later that he learned Shao Ji and the gang had spun that tale behind his back, turning his longing for a little sister into this made-up “child bride” story. His father had even written about the incident in one of his collections.

Embarrassing memories like this, tucked away in old photos, were countless. Every time Yu Siting asked about one, it was like unlocking another sealed part of Chu Cheng’s childhood.

The two of them kept chatting like this, losing track of time completely.

At one point, under Professor Jin’s instructions, a housekeeper came by with two servings of peach gum baked pears in delicate bowls. They knocked a few times but got no response; pressing an ear to the door, they heard nothing but bursts of hearty laughter from inside.

Teacher Yu felt he still hadn’t heard enough stories, but night had deepened — it was time to say goodbye. He stood up, and as he grabbed his jacket from the armrest of the sofa, he knocked something loose.

Clack.
A short piece of dark-colored wood fell to the floor. Both of them looked down at the same time — and froze.

Chu Cheng was just about to bend down when Yu Siting beat him to it.

“This is a ruler, isn’t it?” Yu Siting picked up the object and turned it over in his hand, examining it carefully. He saw a finely carved “Chu” character on the back, then looked up curiously and asked, “Is this yours? Why was it wedged under the sofa cushion?”

“Mm.” Chu Cheng felt a bit awkward under his scorching gaze. He touched his nose, feeling inexplicably guilty, and mumbled, “I was going to throw it away but forgot.”

In truth, he did want to throw it away — he just didn’t dare.
What if the old man remembered it someday? He wouldn’t know how to explain.

Yu Siting had sharp eyes. He instantly recognized the material of the ruler and caught the slight unease on Chu Cheng’s face — realization dawned on him at once.

He said, dead serious, “Top-grade red sandalwood — would be a real shame to toss it. Where were you planning to throw it? I’ll go pick it up.”

“What would you do with it?” Chu Cheng blurted out, genuinely baffled.

Yu Siting ran his fingers over the engraved characters on it and smiled, as if it were the most natural thing in the world: “This is the Chu family’s disciplinary ruler. Every single person who’s passed under that gate turned out erudite and exceptional. Taking it home to smack my nephew — that’s an auspicious sign.”

Chu Cheng couldn’t tell if he was saying that on purpose or not.
In this generation, the Chu family only had one son — no need to think hard about who the ruler had originally been meant to teach.

Truth be told, for something that would just sit gathering dust, giving it away was better than tossing it. The old man probably wouldn’t mind. But this one had been used on him — plus, the other man openly said he’d use it to spank his kid.

“Can’t bear to part with it?” Yu Siting tried to test him further when he didn’t reply right away — but before he could finish, Chu Cheng yanked the ruler from his hands. “Hey! I wasn’t done looking at that.”

“I’m not the type to do things that’ll make enemies,” Chu Cheng shot back, stuffed the ruler straight into his suitcase, and turned to shove the still-reluctant man out the door. “If you really want one, make a new one yourself.”

Yu Siting let himself be pushed along, joking as he moved, his tone poking at how stingy he was being: “So you won’t even need it, but you’d rather pack it up and lug it with you than give it to me? Isn’t it heavy?”

Chu Cheng muttered behind him, “It’s not like I’m carrying my suitcase on foot.”

“So confident, huh?” Yu Siting pulled out his phone, swiping the screen twice in mock seriousness, his voice trailing playfully: “Didn’t see any crowdfunding link on your Moments — guess you managed to get your ticket this time?”

“Online sales haven’t even started yet…” Chu Cheng froze, answering instinctively — then he realized the man was digging up old grievances. He snapped, “Don’t bring up ancient history.”

Yu Siting let out a low, amused laugh.
He didn’t really check his WeChat feed. Instead, he opened his academic calendar and glanced at it. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing. When do you plan to head back to Tingzhou?”

Chu Cheng thought about it. “Any time after the Lantern Festival works.”

“Same here. Let’s go together, then.”

“Okay.”

After all, giving someone a ride — or hitching one — it’s awkward the first time, smooth the second. One asked naturally, the other agreed readily; in the blink of an eye, it was settled.

“Alright, I’m off.” Yu Siting stood by his car, the corner of his lips curved into a faint smile. “If nothing unexpected happens, see you after the New Year.”

“Mm, see you after the New Year.” The night’s snowfall had stopped, and the surrounding silence made Chu Cheng’s voice sound especially gentle. He lifted his arm to wave, standing at the mouth of the alley, watching as Teacher Yu’s car slowly disappeared down the road.

*

Ever since the day of the pre-New Year house cleaning, the Chu family’s visitors had come in an endless stream.

Though Chu Cheng had always been good at slipping away to enjoy some peace and quiet, during such a grand holiday season, even he couldn’t escape lending a hand — bustling around to help entertain guests, with no time left for meeting up with anyone else.

This constant bustle at their door lasted all the way until New Year’s Eve. By tradition, on the eve of the Lunar New Year, the Chu family would close their doors to visitors — apart from the three family members and the live-in housekeepers, only Chairman Jin was ever allowed in.

Professor Jin herself was never one for cooking, yet every year, she made sure the reunion dinner was arranged with care and elegance.

A table spread with sixteen dishes, each symbolic — four corners, eight harmonies, wishing peace and joy for all.

Chu Cheng’s parents had always kept to a disciplined routine; staying up late simply wasn’t their style. After dinner, Chu Cheng gave the two elders his New Year’s greetings in advance. The old man handed him a red envelope he’d prepared ahead of time.

“I’m this old and I still get New Year’s money?” Chu Cheng held the red envelope, its paper inscribed with his father’s own calligraphy, a hint of delight lighting up his face. This was his first Lunar New Year since officially starting work — he’d assumed this little ritual wouldn’t happen anymore.

His mother chuckled softly from the side. “as long as you’re not married, and not a father yourself, you’re still a child.”

“That’s how it works, huh?” Over on the other side, Chairman Jin, munching on fruit, lifted his head when he heard that. “What about me, sis?”

Professor Jin shot him an incredulous look. “Jin Heng, how do you even have the nerve to ask?”

The sharply dressed big-shot chairman, however, cared nothing for saving face. He even hooked a finger at her insistently. “What, nothing for me? Then later I’ll just go whisper to Dad in the spirit hall — tell him all those years you spent painstakingly teaching me to keep my word were wasted.”

“What is wrong with you? Don’t spout nonsense.” Professor Jin was equal parts exasperated and amused.

Mr. Chu, seated at the head of the table, sipped his post-dinner tea at a leisurely pace, saying nothing at all — just watching the siblings bicker, a knowing smile playing at his lips. After all, this peculiar brother-sister dynamic was nothing new to him.

Neither side would back down.

Professor Jin could only sigh and head to the side room to prepare a red envelope for him too.

Chairman Jin, having counted on his sister’s fairness and upright ways, didn’t hesitate to push further. “No favoritism, alright? I want the same as Xiao Cheng.”

Moments later, the uncle got exactly what he wanted.

“Thanks, sis.” He looked perfectly content — then promptly fished out a more ornate red envelope from his coat pocket, shoving it into Chu Cheng’s hands along with the one he’d just wrangled from Professor Jin.

“Thank you, Uncle!” The moment he saw his uncle reaching for his mother’s hand, Chu Cheng had already guessed how this would play out. He deliberately called out his thanks extra loud, gave his elders a proper bow, then happily slipped out of the main hall.

Watching her son’s silhouette disappear, Professor Jin turned to her brother and let out a resigned sigh. “Half that kid’s temperament is the result of you and Dad spoiling him rotten.”

“He’s my nephew. If I don’t spoil him, who will?” Jin Heng brushed the words off as if they were nothing, regaining his usual upright, impeccable composure as he settled down beside Old Mr. Chu to chat about family affairs.

Chu Cheng made his way along the covered corridor that wound through the garden, leaving the main residence behind. Festive red lanterns hung in neat rows under the eaves of the courtyard, stretching out as far as the eye could see.

The glow just managed to slip through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting its light into the quiet art studio — dim yet cozy. He hid himself there, scrolling on his phone.

On such a special night, the internet was buzzing with life. The teaching group chats, the staff groups, the class chats — all of them were lively and noisy.

Ever since night fell, his phone had been constantly pinging with all sorts of New Year’s greetings. Chu Cheng skimmed through them quickly, picking out the ones from people he was closer with to reply to first.

Amidst the sea of short, generic New Year’s messages, the long block of text from Zhou Jin was the most eye-catching. At first, Chu Cheng assumed it was just another cliché New Year’s copy-paste — he was about to roll his eyes and mock how out of character that was for Zhou Jin. But when he looked closer, his expression stiffened ever so slightly.

What his senior had sent wasn’t some tacky New Year’s blessing at all — it was a forwarded apology from a landlord in Tingzhou Yuncheng Homeland.

Chu Cheng read it carefully, paused for a moment, then typed out a question.

[Why would the landlord suddenly want to break the lease?]

Probably just idly scrolling after dinner, Zhou Jin replied quickly.

[He didn’t explain much. Seems like something happened in his family, so he wants to sell the house urgently. He’s sounding us out to see if we’d be willing to negotiate.]

Chu Cheng moved his finger above the 9-key keyboard for a moment.

[Did you reply to him yet?]

[Zhou Jin: Not yet. I’m fine either way — it’s mainly you. It’s really tough to find a new place and move out at a time like this.]

Ain’t that the truth.

Chu Cheng felt a headache coming on. Before he could come up with a plan, another message popped up.

[Zhou Jin: Should I just refuse him for now? At least drag it out until the end of the holidays. Then he’ll have to compensate you according to the contract.]

[Forget it. If he wasn’t in real trouble, nobody would be selling their house during the New Year. I’ll just go back to Tingzhou early and do my best to figure something out.]

Since he’d been renting, the landlord had always treated him well. In the end, Chu Cheng chose to think from the other side’s perspective.

[Zhou Jin: Alright then, I’ll keep an eye out for new rental listings for you. Also…]

Also what?

Chu Cheng couldn’t help feeling a twinge of unease, only to see a few more words pop up on his screen.

[Zhou Jin: Happy New Year.]

[Yeah, Happy New Year~]

After ending the chat with his senior, Chu Cheng couldn’t help but feel complicated inside. Looks like he wouldn’t even make it to the Lantern Festival before having to head back and get things sorted.

Thinking about the promise he was about to abandon, he let out a soft sigh, scrolled down his screen, found Yu Siting in his contacts, and tapped on the chat window.

---

Author’s Note:

[The first piece of good news and bad news of the New Year]

The good news is that Big Bro got contacted by Teacher Chu first.
The bad news is that he wants to bail on his plans and go back early to hunt for a place.

Big Bro (posting rental ads overnight): Isn’t that two good pieces of news?