Chapter 47: The Trouble Makers

Su Yi’an opened her shop as usual. She didn’t go outside to chase anyone away, simply sipped tea from her bamboo cup, calm and unbothered.

She’d moved the small stove indoors, keeping water warm atop it. Only after finishing one cup did she pour herself another.

“Sister Su, what should we do?” He Ningwen couldn’t bring herself to drink. She’d checked the door several times, but the two elderly people outside still refused to leave. Whenever customers approached, the pair would reposition themselves to continue blocking the entrance.

It was obvious to anyone watching that they were doing it on purpose—but no one dared to intervene, wary it might be a family affair.

Su Yi’an topped off He Ningwen’s bamboo cup with hot water and urged, “Quick, try it now. Is it drinkable?”

He Ningwen glanced at her second brother, who was calmly sipping his own tea. With a resigned sigh, she lifted the cup and took a small sip.

The tea was slightly bitter at first, followed by a refreshing sweetness. Still, the flavor was faint, a sign it wasn’t high-quality tea.

Outside, the elderly couple’s wailing grew louder. Perhaps their patience had worn thin after Su Yi’an’s continued refusal to come out.

The street began to crowd with onlookers as their cries rose in pitch—like someone had died.

Passersby stopped to watch, but even after some time, the elderly pair continued their dramatic weeping without offering any explanation.

“Madam, what’s wrong? Why are you crying and shouting in front of someone else’s shop?” The manager of the neighboring store could no longer hold back. Their incessant wailing was scaring off customers from the surrounding businesses.

Noticing the growing audience, the old woman decided it was time. She wiped her face with her sleeve, gasped for breath, and declared, “This shop belonged to my son, but those inside seized it by force! He was powerless to fight back and fell ill after returning home!”

The bystanders weren’t sure what to believe, but the neighboring manager raised a brow—he knew better.

“Are you Yongjin’s parents?” he asked, squinting at them. If he looked closely, the old man’s eyes and brows vaguely resembled Yongjin’s.

The old woman spat in disgust and slammed her fist on the ground.

“But I thought Yongjin’s parents died long ago. Is this a scam?” the manager continued, driving the pair—now sprawled on the ground—half-mad with fury.

How dare he call them Yongjin’s parents? They weren’t that old!

Choking with anger, the old woman grabbed the manager’s arm. “Tell them!”

The old man, no pushover himself, steadied his wife’s shoulder and slowly rose to his feet. He extended a frostbitten, ulcerated hand for all to see.

“I’m only five years older than Yongjin, yet people keep calling me his father. You can imagine how hard life has been,” he said, seeing the crowd’s skeptical expressions. He quickly embellished, “Yongjin is my younger brother. I’m the elder. We lost our parents young, and had to learn to survive on our own.”

“Yongjin was always capable. But what could a capable man do in a tiny village? He had to leave to find real opportunity.”

“Back then, my wife and I farmed and borrowed just enough to send him to town. As his elder brother, I know how much he suffered.”

“He was grateful, always sent money home once he started earning. But we couldn’t take it—he worked too hard. When he saw we wouldn’t accept it, he focused on my son, Yongqi, and eventually gave him this shop.”

The old man pointed at the shop, voice rising. “My son was delayed at home for a few days. When he finally arrived, these people had already taken over!”

Inside, Su Yi’an listened to every word.

She pondered how best to respond. The old man was clearly spinning a web of lies—and using the classic routine: cry, cause a scene, threaten self-harm.

Reasoning with him would be useless.

The crowd wasn’t entirely gullible either. Who would dare seize someone else’s shop and home outright? If they had, the authorities would’ve stepped in already.

“How can you say they forcibly took it?” a passerby asked. “Do you have the deed?”

Without a deed, there was no proof.

But the old man was unfazed. He dropped onto the steps with a dramatic sigh. “That’s exactly why we haven’t gone to the yamen. If we had the deed, we would have long ago.”

“My younger brother promised the shop to my son verbally. We just haven’t had time to register the transfer.”

Su Yi’an scoffed silently. What a transparent lie.

The onlookers might be unsure, but the neighboring shopkeepers knew the truth. Still, none of them stepped forward.

A valuable shop and courtyard, given away for free? Dream on.

Even if Manager Yongjin had owed them something, those debts were long repaid.

Every merchant on the street knew that Yongjin sold the shop cheaply to keep it out of his brother’s hands. But brute force often overpowered logic.

Now that the brother was claiming it publicly, Yongjin couldn’t deny him without looking ungrateful.

Su Yi’an was growing impatient. She was just about to rise and speak when someone knocked rapidly on the back courtyard gate.

He Yunhuai opened it to reveal Yun Niang and her husband, Zhuang Shan—along with the broker who had shown them the shop.

“What brings you here?” Su Yi’an moved a wooden stool closer and poured tea into three bamboo cups. “Please, have a seat.”

Yun Niang glared, her tone playful. “You two are surprisingly calm. Sitting here while trouble brews at the door?”

Su Yi’an glanced at the broker and replied, “If it were that easy, dear sister, do you think we wouldn’t have called the landlord already? Have you met Manager Yongjin?”

Zhuang Shan chuckled and wrapped an arm around his wife. “Your younger sister’s sharper than you.”

That morning, Yun Niang had heard the ruckus and thought Su Yi’an was trapped. She urged Zhuang Shan to find the broker and head to the landlord.

But no one answered their knocks, and neighbors said the entire family had left for the prefectural capital the day before.

“Just as I suspected,” Su Yi’an said, her eyes gleaming. “We’ve been open for days. If they wanted the shop, they’d have come sooner.”

Why wait? Had they not known someone moved in?

“You mean they waited on purpose?” Yun Niang asked, shocked.

Su Yi’an wasn’t sure of the landlord’s motives, but she knew Manager Yongjin wouldn’t just hand the shop to his brother.

“We’ll assume the landlord is a good person,” Su Yi’an said, glancing at the broker.

He understood, raising a finger to his lips to show he’d stay silent.

“If the landlord’s good,” she continued, “then those two outside chose this day knowing no one would be around. Even if someone went looking, they’d be wasting time.”

He Ningwen was still confused. Even if they got away with it today, the landlord would eventually return. Wouldn’t the truth come out?

Everyone shared her concern—this lie couldn’t last.

“What if they take the shop before the owner returns? Would the landlord really be able to kick them out?” He Yunhuai asked quietly, glancing at Su Yi’an.

“That’s impossible! They can’t kick you out—you’ve paid the rent,” the broker said, flustered.

Yunniang was still piecing it together, but Zhuang Shan had already caught on.

He drained his cup and looked toward the old woman still wailing outside. With a chuckle, he said, “The shop’s only been open a few days. We’ll refund the rent and even help you find a new place.”

Why won’t they believe us?

“No way.”

Just as the servant was about to argue, someone outside confronted the elderly pair.

“But I heard the current manager of Anhe Restaurant signed a lease with Manager Yongjin and paid rent. You can’t just kick them out with a few words.”

Exactly what they needed.

The old woman feigned shock. “What? A lease? My little brother must have been tricked!”

“That’s right. They paid a whole year’s rent,” said the neighboring shopkeeper, arriving with pastries in hand.

“This is my son’s shop! We’ll return their rent and make them leave,” the old woman declared, pulling out a cloth pouch.

Su Yi’an stepped out with He Yunhuai.

As agreed, they refused in unison.

“What’s this? You refuse everything? Are you bullying an old woman?” she snapped, her earlier gasping now completely gone.

Before the crowd, Su Yi’an spoke calmly. “This shop is ours. We signed a lease with Manager Yongjin and paid a year’s rent. We aren’t occupying anything illegally.”

“You offered to refund us, but unless Manager Yongjin truly gave the shop to your son, that’s not your call to make.”

“What do you mean, not given to my son?! This has always been his!” the old woman shouted, shocked Su Yi’an wasn’t taking the bait.

The crowd caught on. If Yongjin had transferred the shop, why would he lease it to someone else?

“Before leaving for the prefectural city, Manager Yongjin told us to wait for his return if there was trouble. We have no intention of moving,” Su Yi’an said, calling the broker to show the lease.

It clearly bore Manager Yongjin’s signature.

Seeing his first tactic fail, the old man tried another. He staggered toward Su Yi’an, and just as he reached her, lunged forward.

He Yunhuai stepped between them, his face pale. As the old man’s hand reached out, He Yunhuai swayed—and collapsed.

To the crowd, it looked like the old man had shoved him.

He froze, stunned that the young man had stolen his act.

“Quick! Fetch a doctor!” Su Yi’an called out hoarsely.

The crowd erupted with murmurs.

“How cruel! Resorting to violence now?”

“Exactly! That courtyard probably never belonged to your son!”

Su Yi’an was genuinely panicked. Everything had happened so fast—she hadn’t even caught He Yunhuai’s arm in time.

He lay unconscious. She prayed nothing serious had happened. His health was already fragile—he’d nearly died last time he was hit in the head.

She was so frantic, she didn’t even notice the faint squeeze of her fingers from the man lying in her arms.