Extra: My Hard-to-Please Dad
(This extra is not part of the main story—just some gossip.)
When Li Fengyi was twelve, he spent all day crawling around the house mopping the floors. His twelve-year-old neighbor Hao Hao would come over to play, only to find him either stewing soup, doing laundry, or on his hands and knees scrubbing the floors.
Hao Hao couldn’t make sense of it. In his own home, it was either his mom or dad who did the cooking and cleaning—his only job was eating and getting chubby. So why was it the opposite in Li Fengyi’s house?
Was Li Fengyi’s family poor? Not at all. His home was adorned with carved beams and painted rafters, like a palace. Though Hao Hao had never seen a real palace, in his worldly twelve-year-old opinion, even a palace couldn’t be more luxurious than Li Fengyi’s place.
After all, whose house was filled with glittering pearls, gemstones, and gold everywhere? One day, while mopping the floor with Li Fengyi, Hao Hao accidentally got a tiny pearl stuck to his clothes and took it home. When he stopped by a candy shop on the way, the shopkeeper nearly had a heart attack.
He claimed it was some priceless little pearl grown inside a centuries-old seashell.
Terrified, Hao Hao quickly returned the pearl. Li Fengyi’s hard-to-please living father casually tossed it into a flowerpot.
That’s right—Li Fengyi’s house had piles of little pearls, all dumped into flowerpots as if they were dirt.
Just how wealthy Li Fengyi’s father was, even worldly Hao Hao couldn’t fathom. He was a little afraid of the man. Though handsome and seemingly ageless, he was anything but warm. Every time he appeared, Hao Hao would hide, only coming out to play with Li Fengyi after his father left.
Li Fengyi found this utterly ridiculous. “What are you scared of him for?”
Hao Hao said, “Scared he’ll punish me! He’s always making you mop the floor—what if he catches me and forces me to kneel and scrub your house all day too? I’d be exhausted! I don’t want to mop floors.”
“I mop the floor not because he punishes me,” Li Fengyi said, slightly disappointed in Hao Hao’s lack of insight. “My dad’s a childish brat. He’s lived his whole life being ridiculously fussy, but he doesn’t even realize it. Ever since your mom—I mean, my mom—disappeared, he’s been moping around all day. If you don’t watch him, he won’t eat. If you don’t chase him, he’ll sit in one spot all day without moving, like some kind of zombie. You get it? If I hired a servant to mop, he’d be upset seeing a stranger. If I didn’t mop, he’d be upset about the dust. And when he’s upset, he won’t say anything—just gets even gloomier, stops eating, stops moving, stops talking. And who suffers for it? Me. So I mop the floor for my own sake. I do it to keep us both happy.”
One day, Hao Hao’s dad went to the town teahouse to tell stories, and his mom stayed home to feed the pigs. Hao Hao brought some freshly roasted yams and ran over to the Tang residence to find Li Fengyi.
Li Fengyi wasn’t there.
The Tang residence always smelled like medicine. Hao Hao had no idea where Li Fengyi spent all his time mopping, but whatever the case, he didn’t like the place.
Sneaking into the kitchen, he didn’t find Li Fengyi—just some chopped ingredients and a half-simmered pot of soup. Hao Hao grabbed a spoon and stole a sip. Though the soup wasn’t fully cooked yet, it tasted pretty good. Next time, he’d ask Li Fengyi to make some for his parents to try.
When he turned around, his vision was suddenly filled with light. Hao Hao nearly jumped out of his skin—Li Fengyi’s living father was standing right behind him.
Oh no, oh no, oh no. I’m dead.By the age of twelve, he had barely exchanged more than a few words with Li Fengyi's father, but he vividly remembered how the man made children start mopping floors at a very young age—Li Fengyi had been taught to make soup for him when he was just a toddler, and he was also made to manage accounts while still a small child. Whatever tasks adults were supposed to do, Li Fengyi was forced to do them at an incredibly young age.
Now, I’ve stolen and drunk his soup.
He wouldn’t capture me and lock me up at home as a slave, forcing me to work for him for twenty years for free, would he?
Hao Hao trembled in terror, utterly horrified.
Then he saw the man standing at the door frown slightly between his brows and say slowly, "Fengfeng isn’t home these days—he’s gone to Shanghao Yunshan for a sword debate." He took a step forward, and Hao Hao immediately retreated ten steps. The man paused, slightly taken aback, before stopping and adding softly, "He probably won’t be back for another ten days."
Hao Hao blurted, "Don’t come any closer! I didn’t mean to steal your soup—I thought Fengfeng made it!"
The man chuckled helplessly, his brow smoothing out. Hao Hao felt as if the light in the kitchen brightened slightly, and then he heard him say, "The soup Fengfeng makes—I taught him how."
Hao Hao shook his head vigorously. "I don’t believe it! If you can cook yourself, why don’t you do it? Why bully a kid all the time?"
The man’s faintly glowing smile dimmed slightly, but he didn’t seem angry. Leaning against the kitchen door, he curled his lips slightly. "Yes… if I can cook myself, why don’t I do it? Why bully a kid all the time?" He lowered his gaze to Hao Hao. "What do you think?"
"I don’t know!" Hao Hao yelped and jumped up. "Don’t come any closer! I was wrong, I shouldn’t have stolen the soup, I’ll never do it again—just stay away!"
The man laughed again, then let out a very soft sigh.
Hao Hao fled the Tang residence in a frantic scramble.
That evening, he found the same pot of soup served at his own family’s dinner table. Utterly baffled, he concluded that Li Fengyi’s impossible father was simply unfathomable and unreasonable. Living with him, even if they were wealthy, was nothing short of a waking nightmare.
Hao Hao’s father was a storyteller, and his mother was a strong, fierce village woman skilled at raising pigs, chickens, and children. As a child, Hao Hao had fallen deathly ill several times—by the age of three, he was nothing but skin and bones, barely clinging to life. Yet his mother stubbornly nursed him back to health and turned him into a sturdy little chubby boy.
They lived right next to the opulent Tang residence.
The area around the Tang estate was a small town, and Hao Hao often noticed strange people passing through.
Sometimes, they’d brandish swords and spears in the streets, shouting about killing and fighting—until the candy shop owner came out and yelled at them, at which point they’d quiet down.
Other times, even stranger people would show up—like a black-haired monk or something—staying at Li Fengyi’s house to discuss matters. Hao Hao had eavesdropped a few times.
He imagined that a tyrant like Li Fengyi’s father must be plotting something earth-shattering—like forcibly kidnapping a wife for Li Fengyi or rounding up children to enslave them.
But every time, they just came to ask how Li Fengyi’s father had been lately.
And then Li Fengyi’s impossibly demanding father would smile faintly and reply, "Same as ever."
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