Chapter 9: Conversations Over Tea

In an instant, the visitor had arrived. For a moment, the winter snow ceased to fall, and the rushing stream stilled, revealing his flawless features and finely sculpted brows and eyes—so majestic that one dared not meet his gaze directly.

“Nephew, I trouble you, Ninth Uncle,” Mu Lin said, bowing once more.

The Mu family was one of military lineage, where traditions and rules were less rigid than those of civil officials’ households, and the order of descendants did not distinguish between male and female. His father, Mu Wei, had nine siblings, and this man was the ninth, named Mu Hanshi.

Many years ago, Mu Hanshi’s father, Mu Chen, served as an official outside the capital with his wife and son. Unexpectedly, a plague swept through the region, afflicting all three. In the end, only Mu Hanshi survived.

In Mu Lin’s memory, this Ninth Uncle had always been the most peculiar presence in the Marquis’s residence. Perhaps weakened by illness in childhood, his health was frail, and he preferred solitude, seldom appearing before others.

Not only his father but also his grandmother and uncles had repeatedly instructed the younger generation not to disturb Ninth Uncle’s recuperation. Mu Lin had long believed this was out of concern for Ninth Uncle, but gradually, he realized it was something else entirely.

As the heir to the Marquis’s household, his father had kept him close since childhood, and whenever the family convened to discuss important matters, he was the only junior present. Yet, every time a decision was made, his father would instinctively glance toward Ninth Uncle.

What confirmed to him that Ninth Uncle was no ordinary figure was an incident three years prior when he wished to enlist at the border. The family elders opposed it, but when he sought help from Ninth Uncle, the reply was simply, “It is rare for him to possess such a pure heart. A period of experience outside is good for him.”

That single sentence changed the elders’ minds, including his beloved grandmother’s. From then on, he understood Ninth Uncle’s extraordinary status within the Mu family.

Taking a deep breath, Mu Lin said, “Today, I visited the Yu residence and met the eldest Miss Yu.”

Mu Hanshi lifted his eyelids slightly, his tone indifferent. “Were you disappointed?”

“I wonder if Ninth Uncle remembers when I visited the Yu residence three years ago. The eldest Miss Yu was caught in a cold and unable to meet me. Later, I was hosted overnight by Yu Jingliang and encountered someone during the night.”

“You spoke happily together, so you agreed to the betrothal.”

“Exactly so.” A tangled expression crossed Mu Lin’s brow. “That night was hazy; I could not clearly see her face, but I heard someone call her ‘Miss.’ Assuming the Yu household had only one daughter, I believed she must be the eldest Miss Yu. Yet today, I discovered there is another Miss Yu named A Li.”

Mu Hanshi watched him quietly, signaling for him to continue.

Mu Lin forced a bitter smile. “I vaguely feel the person I spoke with that night was likely that Miss Yu Li.”

“She is the daughter of Yu Zhiheng’s younger sister, the condemned Su Qihe’s child.”

“I asked Yu Jingliang and learned of her identity. More than that, I heard she was different from others since childhood, her mind seemingly incomplete. If that were true, how could she have conversed so smoothly with me three years ago?”

A woman’s reputation must remain untarnished, so he confided the nighttime encounter to no one but Ninth Uncle. Now, troubled, he had come seeking counsel from him alone.

“This woman is vastly different in public and private. I imagine you have your own thoughts,” Mu Hanshi said softly, like drifting snow. “You have now met the true eldest Miss Yu. How do you feel?”

Mu Lin shook his head, then nodded again.

The true eldest Miss Yu was well-educated and graceful, without fault, yet inexplicably, he felt disappointed.

“She is good, but for some reason, I feel no affection.”

“If your heart is unsettled, then postpone the engagement until you have clarity.”

“Thank you, Ninth Uncle.”

After he took his leave, the steward approached.

“How could the Yu family be so careless, letting that Yu Li appear when today was the day the heir was to meet the eldest Miss Yu?”

Mu Hanshi walked to a painting of bamboo groves. “It likely was not the Yu family’s intention. The inner quarters are a woman’s battlefield, full of schemes. That Yu Li’s meeting with A Lin three years ago and her deliberate reappearance now—she is no simpleton, but deeply scheming.”

“Then why did His Lord not clarify matters with the heir just now?”

“He will be the head of the Marquis’s household one day. If he cannot see through such tactics or handle them, how can he uphold the Mu family’s legacy?”

Hearing this, the steward said, “His Lord values the heir greatly, constantly honing him. The heir will surely understand His Lord’s intentions in time.”

Mu Hanshi’s cold eyes fixed on the bamboo painting, his gaze filled with countless emotions, yet seemingly empty.

Silence reigned, devoid of desire or longing.

*

Throughout the Yu household, except for the Quiet Heart Courtyard, all dined three meals a day, as did Rui’an Residence.

Xie had long instructed the kitchen to prepare meals suitable for Shen Qinglu, light fish soup, vegetables cooked in meat oil, little meat or fish but visually appealing.

Shen Qinglu took a sip of soup; her large eyes instantly brimmed with wonder. Another bite of vegetables brightened her gaze like stars in a dark sky, dazzling and radiant.

“Grandmother, these dishes are delicious. I’ve never tasted anything so good.”

Xie’s heart tightened with bitterness.

They were just ordinary dishes, with a little meat and fish added, yet this child’s joy revealed how poor her usual meals must have been. Looking at the face resembling her daughter, Xie was too pained to speak, only murmuring guilt-ridden words urging her to eat more.

Shen Qinglu noticed the guilt but felt no stir within.

One layer of guilt was insufficient; she desired it to deepen and grow until it became a mountain crushing the soul, erupting completely.

After finishing a bowl of rice, she took another. The first words after setting down her chopsticks were, “So this is what it feels like to be full. My stomach feels so comfortable.”

Already burdened by guilt, Xie’s heart ached more.

This child had never truly been full!

“You are with Grandmother. You can eat whatever and as much as you like.”

“Really?” Shen Qinglu’s eyes brightened, then shifted into a cautious, pleading expression. “Then can I stay with Grandmother forever?”

Xie, overwhelmed by guilt, almost agreed, but reason stopped her before she could say yes.

She was old; none could count on many years. Her daughter still struggled under the hands of her elder brother and sister-in-law. While she was still here, she had to plan carefully.

“Your mother... she had been neglectful before. She knows her mistake now and will take good care of you. Don’t hold it against her.”

Neglect?

Shen Qinglu sneered inwardly.

Yu Qingxue’s neglect was not in care, but in failing to end her life. Since she remained, she would never leave!

“I will listen to Grandmother.” Suddenly, she changed the subject, “Grandmother, I want to learn to read and write. May I?”

“Of course!” Xie, moved by her understanding and obedience, had been wondering how to make amends. Hearing her wish to learn, she readily agreed.

But how could a body once soulless suddenly know to read and write?

“A Li, tell Grandmother, why do you want to learn to read and write?”

“I, when I was confused before, seemed to hear someone say that knowing letters allows one to understand heaven and earth, see beyond a thousand miles. Reading helps one grasp reason and connect thoughts across the ages.”

Xie was astonished.

There was no other reason—those were her father’s words.

Her father had been an old scholar, so their siblings had all learned to read and write from childhood. Later, when encouraging her children and grandchildren, she had said the same words, never expecting this child to know them.

“How do you know this saying?” she asked, deeply moved.

“I don’t know. I just seem to know.” Shen Qinglu’s face was innocent, as if unaware of what she had said.

This was, of course, a fragment of the original occupant’s lingering memories.

Once, when Yu Jingliang skipped school and was caught by Xie, she did not scold him harshly but spoke earnestly with the phrase.

Unbeknownst to them, the original occupant was nearby, a hollow shell storing those words to pass on later.

“Grandmother, is that saying true?”

“Yes, yes.” Xie repeated, eyes moist. “You want to learn to read and write. Grandmother will teach you, all right?”

“That’s wonderful.” Shen Qinglu clapped her hands in joy.

Such emotion lifted Xie’s spirits, and she began planning lessons immediately.

Shen Qinglu flipped through the books Xie chose. Any thought of hiding her ignorance vanished; the characters were so unfamiliar, she realized she was truly illiterate and must start from scratch.

Together by the window, with brush, ink, paper, and inkstone laid out, Xie patiently taught each stroke. Shen Qinglu copied carefully and methodically.

Maid Li and Xia Chanqiulu stood nearby, their attention fully on them. Occasionally, Chanqiulu’s gaze wandered to Xia Chan, her look complex.

Soon, the white rice paper was filled with black ink characters.

Xie’s handwriting was graceful, and though Shen Qinglu’s was clumsy, it bore some semblance.

“A Li, is this your first time writing characters?” Xie asked.

Shen Qinglu nodded.

It should be her first.

Xie’s delight grew. “To write so well on your first try, even better than your father’s early attempts.”

Widowed for years, she had raised her two children alone. Her son was intelligent and studious from youth.

As for her daughter...

She was devout now, but as a child was restless and seldom focused on writing or reading, preferring stories instead. Seeing this child’s resemblance to her daughter, yet her talent and calmness in study akin to her son, Xie was certain that blood and nature never lie.

“Grandmother, what does this character mean?” Shen Qinglu pointed to one and asked.

Xie was about to explain when footsteps entered the room, drawing her attention.

Shen Qinglu looked up toward the newcomers.

Two men stood there, bearing similar features—one older, the other barely of age.

She immediately guessed their identities—

Yu Zhiheng and Yu Jingxian.