Chapter 43
"If I hadn't chosen that wine, would you really have found me a good match?" Wen shi's voice was sharp. "The matches you picked — either they were destitute, or they wanted me as a second wife. That's your idea of a 'good match'? And besides, you were desperate to get Shen Yi married — with such short time, could you have found a high-born bride?"
Old Madam Shen looked at her and shook her head. "Even with the time constraint, there were plenty of daughters from modest families. If you hadn't been willing, an orphan girl could never have become a daughter-in-law of the Shen family."
Wen shi threw her head back and laughed, laughed until tears streamed down her face.
Old Madam Shen gazed at her, helpless. Wen shi was only the daughter of her paternal cousin — not her own child. She was a Wen, not a Shen. If the match had been too high-profile, who would have stood up for her? Those matches were indeed not excellent, but if she had married into them, she would never have suffered injustice.
But bringing up old grievances now — who could say who was right and who was wrong?
By this point, anyone could guess the truth.
Old Madam Shen turned to Shen Nian. "Let me handle this."
Shen Nian said not a word. He turned and left that absurd place.
That night, both Wen shi and Shen Qing were placed under house arrest by Old Madam Shen.
Afterward, Old Madam Shen summoned Shen Nian and asked if there was anything else he wished to know.
Shen Nian said: "Did Father know about Shen Qing's true parentage?"
Old Madam Shen was silent for a moment, then said: "I did not know before. When Shen Qing was born, I thought your father had had a change of heart, and all these years I treated Shen Qing as my own grandchild. But before he died, your father sent back a letter and told me everything. He said that no matter what, I must spare both her and Shen Qing's lives. All these years, he did not resent her, nor Shen Qing — he resented himself back then, and he resented me."
She still remembered that day — Shen Yi's wounds had not yet fully healed. He was pinned down, bound, and forced to drink the medicine. He wept and begged her, but it was useless. His struggles were useless too. In the end, it was Wen shi who walked into that room.
At dawn, Shen Yi stumbled out, unsteady on his feet. The person he loved stood leaning against the wall, covered in fallen blossoms.
Everything was settled. No one could change it.
"After I received his letter, I looked carefully into what had happened back then. That stable hand is already dead. Over the years, she has lived a dissolute life — she just hid it well from me."
"I had always felt I owed her, carried some guilt..."
Shen Nian asked no further questions. He did not want to hear any more from Old Madam Shen.
He could imagine how she had forced Wen shi to reveal herself, how she had feigned illness. After all, her collapse had been too convenient, and Wen shi's scheme had gone too smoothly. He had stood there watching them play out this drama — he just had not expected the story within it to be this.
Shen Nian felt that everyone in the Shen family was ill.
Everyone was ill.
Wen-shi was ill. Old Madam Shen was ill.
They were afflicted by a sickness of truth and lies mixed together, deceiving others and deceiving themselves — until in the end, others believed, and they believed it too.
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Shen Nian had not yet fully recovered from the memories when a soft knock came at the door, followed by Ruan Jiqing's cautious voice: "Marquis, are you awake?"
Shen Nian steadied himself, gave a reply, smoothed his robes, rose from the bed, and walked over to open the door.
To his surprise, standing outside the door was not just Ruan Jiqing, but the Emperor himself.
Shen Nian froze for a moment at the sight of the Emperor leaning casually against the dragon pillar by the hall. The Emperor was dressed in plain, unadorned single-layer robes, his posture relaxed and languid—at first glance, one might have mistaken him for some carefree scion of an aristocratic clan.
Yet the delicate, small dragon claws embroidered at his cuffs and collar shimmered faintly in the sunlight, glinting with a golden radiance that made his identity impossible to ignore.
Shen Nian snapped back to his senses as the Emperor slowly raised an eyebrow. He hurriedly performed a bow: "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject's discourtesy."
"No need for such formality." Qi Junmu stopped him. "I heard from Ruan Jiqing that you seemed to have been troubled by nightmares, so I came to check on you. I am glad to see you are well."
"Thank you, Your Majesty. This humble subject is fine now." Shen Nian looked up at the sky, then tugged at the corner of his mouth with a playful remark: "People often say that the palace is protected by dragon aura. This humble subject slept in a side hall so close to Your Majesty, and slept so deeply—surely I was blessed by Your Majesty's protection."
Hearing this, Ruan Jiqing felt a quiet admiration rise within him. No wonder Shen Nian was the Emperor’s trusted Marquis Zhenbei, he thought to himself.
His words were like honey—sweet but not cloying, and sure to please the listener.
Such skill in speech was beyond ordinary people.
Qi Junmu, however, gave Shen Nian an odd look. Shen Nian had said similar witty things before, but this time it felt different. The words came out stiff, the smile seemed forced, and he looked utterly drained, as if his very bones had lost their support.
Qi Junmu thought to himself: Marquis Zhenbei must still be muddled from sleep, his mind not yet clear.
So Qi Junmu said: "You did sleep quite soundly—you even missed the midday meal."
With that, he gave Shen Nian an appraising look up and down, taking in his rumpled robes, and his eyes carried a hint of disdain: "Best go wash up first."
The Emperor's look of distaste was plain to see. The day was sweltering hot, and Shen Nian also felt that he did not smell particularly pleasant. He looked slightly embarrassed: "Your Majesty, this humble subject has spare clothes at the Imperial Guard office. I will go there now to tidy up."
"No need for all that trouble. Have Ruan Jiqing bring the clothes here." Qi Junmu said.
It was not that he wanted to keep Shen Nian against his will—it was simply that the man had red-rimmed eyes and looked utterly lifeless. The distance from Qianhua Hall to the Imperial Guard rest quarters was quite long, and many people would see him in that state.
There were many clever people in this world, and just as many who wanted to see Shen Nian fall. If someone seized on his condition and stirred up trouble, it would become another headache.
Better to eliminate potential dangers from the start, and avoid future complications.
Shen Nian, having steadied himself, quickly understood what the Emperor was thinking. This time, he did not utter words of thanks. Instead, he merely pressed his lips together and gave the man before him a faint smile.
Qi Junmu looked at Shen Nian like this—though deep in his eyes there was still a trace of sorrow, his expression had already brightened. He believed Shen Nian would soon emerge from the shadows.
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