Chapter Seven: Beautiful Companions, Fleeting Years

In this life, there were no restrictions against close relatives marrying as there had been in his previous existence. Only by such means could the Shen family’s legacy be preserved, preventing it from falling into the hands of outsiders—a compromise, yet a necessary one. Unless his two uncles managed to father children, this arrangement was almost certain to come to pass. Perhaps Shen Ruoxi would not care for him, perhaps her heart belonged elsewhere, but these matters were insignificant; the will of the family was not swayed by the individual desires of those bound to it.

The will of the Shen family was, in truth, the will of Old Master Shen; the two had long since become inseparable. Shen Lian could also perceive what manner of man his maternal grandfather truly was—to remain so clear-headed and decisive amidst such upheaval, to bring him back within mere days, having weighed all the interests. Ruthlessness such as this was rare; a man of his caliber would flourish wherever he was placed.

Had Shen Lian refused to return, he would likely have been forcibly brought back regardless. If he were an ordinary person, faced with such circumstances, he could only accept the windfall with gladness. But he was not fated to walk that path. In this matter, it seemed he stood to gain wealth and the affection of a beautiful woman, yet in truth, he was but a tool. Perhaps Old Master Shen believed this was for his own good, but Shen Lian had no wish to become someone’s instrument.

It was not that he gained no benefit from the arrangement; it was a matter of dignity, nothing more.

Glancing unobtrusively toward a certain corner, Shen Lian clenched his fist tightly. His own power was still woefully lacking.

As expected, he was under surveillance.

Shen Ruoxi, seeing Shen Lian’s indifference to her harsh words—and even finding him distracted enough to glance elsewhere—grew even more incensed. Unable to restrain herself, she pulled the gold hairpin from her head and hurled it at him.

She was exceptionally skilled at pitch-pot, rarely missing her mark. Even such a small jade hairpin, in her hand and from just a few steps away, would strike wherever she aimed. She intended to hit Shen Lian’s face, to scratch his skin and see how he might lose his composure.

It is said that women everywhere cherish their beauty; thus, when they quarrel, they often aim for the face. Shen Ruoxi was no exception. Though she was too embarrassed to strike him with her own hand, flinging a hairpin at his face was almost instinctive.

Perhaps it was because Shen Lian’s features were delicate and gentle that Shen Ruoxi subconsciously regarded him as a peer, and so a nameless urge to damage what was beautiful arose.

But in the blink of an eye, Shen Ruoxi was dumbfounded. Her hairpin landed cleanly between Shen Lian’s right index and middle fingers.

She could never have imagined that Shen Lian possessed such keen eyesight and reflexes—that he could catch her hairpin in midair.

Shen Lian’s elegant brows furrowed slightly, lending him an air of quiet authority. With eyes bright as stars, there was an unspoken gravity about him. With a flick of his fingers, the hairpin whistled through the air and landed firmly in Ruoxi’s disheveled hair.

“Shen Ruoxi, I’ll let it go this time. But if you ever try to lay a hand on me again, I promise I’ll leave a flower on your face for all to see.”

His tone was not harsh, but paired with his expression and the skill he had just displayed, there was an unmistakable force behind his words.

What followed was both unexpected and inevitable.

Shen Ruoxi burst into tears. “You’re bullying me!” she wailed, and the tears came as easily as breathing, soon drawing the attention of nearby servants. Without granting Shen Lian a chance to speak further, she covered her face and fled.

Shen Lian was left slightly nonplussed. In the end, Shen Ruoxi was only a half-grown, precocious girl; if bullied, she would naturally cry out loud—nothing could be more normal.

Word that Shen Ruoxi, the cherished daughter of the house, had been bullied by the newly returned young master Shen Lian spread quickly through the Shen residence. As for how the tale might be embellished, that was of no concern to Shen Lian.

***

To the east of the Shen estate was a garden. Each evening, the old master would walk there without fail; it was not only his place for leisure, but also where affairs of importance were discussed. The surroundings were open and clear, the perfect setting for decisions that affected the whole of Qingzhou to be made.

The sunset on the leaves seemed to wring the last drops of moisture from them—a poetic image, perhaps, but the reality was that the old master was simply watering the azaleas with a can. These azaleas had once been planted by Shen Lian’s grandmother, and what began as fragile seedlings had now bloomed in profusion, though the one who planted them was gone.

“I heard you made Ruoxi cry?” the old man said without turning, his hand steady and sure, unlike most elders. The stream of water fell surely upon petals and leaves, scattering droplets everywhere, not a single one splashing onto him.

“I didn’t expect you to care so much for me. I’m flattered,” Shen Lian replied with a slight smile. Unlike the others in the Shen household, who trembled before the old master, Shen Lian remained composed.

“Ruoxi’s a bit spoiled, but she has a good heart. Don’t forget, when you were little, she always saved you a share of every treat she got,” the old man said softly.

Shen Lian was not entirely sure of this; though he possessed most of his predecessor’s memories, he could not recall every detail.

After all, who remembers the affairs of children at four or five? Even the closest childhood playmates often grow up as strangers. Shen Lian understood what his grandfather intended, but he was not obliged to comply. To be frank, he knew little of this grandfather of his—only that, having risen from humble beginnings, the old man was no ordinary figure.

“I am the elder brother; she is the younger sister. Naturally, I would not stoop to her level,” he replied.

By emphasizing their sibling relationship, he made his stance clear.

The old master regarded Shen Lian intently, then, without another word, handed him the watering can. Looking him in the eye, he said, “This can I entrust to you. How much you keep, how much you pour away, is your own decision.”

Shen Lian accepted the can steadily, understanding that the old man was likening the Shen family to it—this was a sign of trust.

After a few words on other matters, Shen Lian took his leave.

Only when he had gone did Shen Qingshan emerge from the other side of the garden and approach the old master.

“This child has always been thoughtful. Two years in the mountains have only sharpened his mind. He seems more promising than Ju’er or Wei’er,” Shen Qingshan observed. Ju’er and Wei’er were the childhood names of Shen Lian’s two cousins.

The old man gazed at the droplets on the petals and said slowly, “If I’m not mistaken, tomorrow will be the day we lay those two children to rest.”

Shen Qingshan’s expression dimmed. “Everything is already arranged,” he replied.

The old man’s eyes grew cold and sharp. “Tomorrow also happens to be when that wanderer from the martial world meets with the Green Bamboo Gang.”

As Shen Lian left the garden, he glanced back for no apparent reason. The depths of that garden seemed bleak and desolate in a way he could not describe.

No matter how vast the family fortune, it all came down to planning for what follows, for descendants yet unborn. This was not the life he sought.

What he truly pondered was where he might find the path to strengthen his weak body, to gain the ability to come and go freely before the might of the Shen family.

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