Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Waking up one morning, Second Master Shen had already packed his things.

Ayin was delighted to hear that Shen Mingsu would be accompanying them. As they set off, she hugged “Little Peach Blossom” and ran ahead, but upon reaching the door, she suddenly stopped and even took a few steps back inside.

Her aunt found it odd. “Ayin?”

Ayin turned around, her gaze fixed on Shen Mingsu’s face, too afraid to speak.

Mingsu stepped out and immediately saw Feng Zhongyan.

He was wearing the same clothes from the previous night, sitting on a wooden stool outside the door, his hands tucked into his sleeves. His face looked weary, and even his gaze lacked its usual sharpness.

It seemed he had been keeping watch here all night.

Not only him, but also the patrol officers surrounding him had blocked the entire alley, leaving no way through.

Mingsu’s expression tightened, and she shielded Ayin behind her.

Feng Zhongyan showed no emotion. Rising, he smoothed the wrinkles of his robe from the night and then looked up to ask her, “Where are you headed?”

Before Shen Mingsu could answer, Second Master Shen stepped outside, glanced at the crowd in the alley, and frowned, “Lord Feng, what is the meaning of this?”

Feng Zhongyan smiled politely and cupped his hands. “Second Uncle, long time no see. Since you’ve come to the capital, why not visit my home?”

Ever since Old Master Shen had betrothed Shen Mingsu to him, Feng Zhongyan had addressed Shen Mingsu by her name as if she were family.

Calling him “Second Uncle” immediately stirred Second Master Shen’s temper. “Lord Feng is noble, and I, a mere commoner, dare not presume to claim kinship. I only met Lord Feng once when I was at the Shen residence. Back then, you were humble and courteous, quite unlike the proud demeanor you bear today.”

“The heavens have been gracious, granting this young man such fortune to assist His Majesty and earn this honor.” Feng Zhongyan’s smile remained, but his gaze showed no sign of yielding. “As for pride, that depends on whether Second Uncle is willing to give me face today.”

Second Master Shen’s face reddened with anger. “You…”

Feng Zhongyan’s tone softened somewhat. “Ajin is having a tantrum with me. As an elder, Second Uncle should mediate, not fan the flames by taking her away now. Don’t you agree?”

Reasoning with Second Master Shen was futile; he was momentarily speechless.

Feng Zhongyan didn’t want to waste time and stated his purpose plainly. “Second Uncle can go wherever he likes; I won’t stop him. But Ajin—you cannot take her.”

Second Master Shen snorted coldly. “If the Feng family truly cared for her, who could take her away? My elder brother and sister-in-law have passed, so I am this child’s only uncle and kin. Wherever she is, so am I. There is no reason to be apart. Since Ajin has returned the marriage contract, the Shen family no longer has any ties with the Feng family. Lord Feng’s obstruction is rather unseemly.”

Feng Zhongyan remained silent.

He seemed indifferent to notions of propriety.

Second Master Shen grabbed Shen Mingsu and tried to push forward, but after a few steps, the patrol officers on either side crossed their spears, the sharp tips clashing with a harsh sound that stopped them in their tracks.

Since leaving Qingzhou, it had been a long time since such a scene was witnessed. Ayin, frightened, shrank into her aunt’s arms and looked anxiously at Second Master Shen, crying, “Father!”

Second Master Shen’s expression changed. “Feng Zhongyan, you’re going too far!”

Feng Zhongyan remained unmoved, waiting for Shen Mingsu to turn.

After a long moment, Shen Mingsu relented. “Let them leave. We can discuss the rest later.”

From the moment she saw him at the door, she knew she wouldn’t be leaving today.

She hadn’t intended to leave with Second Uncle anyway.

Feng Zhongyan smiled, pleased. “As Ajin wishes.”

—

Shen Mingsu sent Second Master Shen and his family out of the city in Feng Zhongyan’s carriage.

The two were silent inside. Having not slept all night, they were both drowsy. Feng Zhongyan rested his eyes but occasionally glanced at her.

Shen Mingsu stared out the window, deliberately avoiding looking at him.

Her stubbornness reminded him of two years ago. After a year at the Feng household, she had been obedient and clever, and he thought it would be easy. But in the end, she stubbornly defied him, even returning the marriage contract.

Having drunk last night and not slept, her head was heavy, and she dozed off for a while.

When they disembarked, Feng Zhongyan stepped down first and offered his arm to her, but Shen Mingsu declined and leapt down nimbly from the other side.

Without the weight of those heavy rules, she felt free.

When she reached Second Master Shen, she spoke little but gave him an address. “If there’s anything, Second Uncle, write to me.”

Second Master Shen couldn’t control her nor Feng Zhongyan. Gritting his teeth, he could only curse, “My elder brother really raised a wild wolf cub.”

Feng Zhongyan pretended not to hear.

Shen Mingsu approached her aunt, crouched down to look at Ayin in her arms, and gently stroked her head. “Ayin, go ahead first. Sister will come find you later.”

Ayin, still shaken by the earlier clash of spears, nodded timidly. Although reluctant, she didn’t dare hold them back. “Then hurry back, sister.”

“Mm.”

“Ajin, your Second Uncle and aunt are useless.”

“It’s not your fault…”

Second Master Shen stood aside watching. Feng Zhongyan suddenly appeared behind him and asked, “Second Uncle, when did you find Yue Yao?”

Second Master Shen was taken aback and reluctant to speak with him, but seeing his earnestness and knowing Ajin was still in his hands, he suppressed his anger and reluctantly replied, “A month ago.”

Feng Zhongyan pressed further, “Where did you find her?”

“In the hands of Qingzhou’s corpse collectors.”

“What’s her full name?”

Second Master Shen frowned, sensing some hidden meaning. If Feng Zhongyan truly wanted to help find Yue Yao, she would have been found long ago. Why the pretense now?

“My family’s affairs need no concern from Lord Feng.” Approaching Shen Mingsu, Second Master Shen asked again, “Ajin, are you sure you want to stay?”

If she shook her head, he would take her out of the city today, even if it meant death.

But Ajin nodded, “Second Uncle, don’t worry. I have to go to Qingzhou.”

“Take care. I’ll keep an eye on the letters.”

“You too, Second Uncle.”

...

—

The spring sun carried a cool breeze, not scorching but refreshingly cool.

A carriage stopped under a willow tree just outside the city. The curtain lifted to reveal a young gentleman’s face, scanning the scene at the city gate. He asked the person behind him, “Really not going to see her one last time?”

“What good would it do?”

The young man smiled back, “You’re quite stubborn.”

The lady’s voice was calm and indifferent. “She knows what Feng Zhongyan is like. She’s not foolish.”

The sky was filled with drifting catkins. A half-rolled curtain obscured half her face, and her eyes gazed toward the figures on the road, lingering longer than expected.

—

After watching the carriage disappear along the dusty official road beyond the city walls, Shen Mingsu turned around.

Feng Zhongyan stood before her, waiting for her to get in.

She didn’t move but smiled at him. “Lord Feng, are you going to imprison me?”

He smiled back, but his restrained eyes seemed to struggle with anger. “Do I need to go that far?”

“I don’t care what Lord Feng means. Now that Second Uncle is gone, there’s nothing holding you back. After all, you haven’t explained the broken engagement to others. If anything happens to the Shen family under your watch, it would harm your reputation as prime minister. I understand you, but please, give me a way to survive.”

Feng Zhongyan looked at her for a long while, seeming puzzled. “You can’t live in the Feng household?”

Shen Mingsu answered, “I’d rather die than submit.”

A gust of wind stirred the willow branches. Feng Zhongyan stood five steps away, watching her through the swirling catkins. His smile faded, his gaze cold and inscrutable.

He hadn’t expected her to be so stubborn.

Had she still been in the Feng household, she might have been intimidated by his look. But now that she was out, even if he might not treat her kindly, she had at least gained the courage to resist him.

He was silent for a long time, and Shen Mingsu felt uneasy, knowing that with a single thought from him, she could become a true captive.

After a moment, she said, “A bent waist must straighten now and then to feel comfortable.”

Those were the very words Feng Zhongyan had told her before. Today, she returned them to him unchanged. “My path, Lord Feng, you once walked it. You know what it feels like. I beg you to be merciful.”

She didn’t ask for gratitude—only to be spared.

Let it be as if she had never come to the capital a year ago.

Second Uncle was gone, and the patrol officers Feng Zhongyan had brought had withdrawn. Fu An waited at the city gate. Only the two of them remained by the carriage.

Since arriving in the capital, Shen Mingsu had never properly looked at him, nor had he at her. Now, under the morning light outside the city, he dared to look boldly at the clear face in his memory.

That long-lost face looked indifferent, the wariness in her eyes was like a thorn piercing sideways into his heart, causing it to clench sharply.

She had grown up.

Seeing her turn her head away silently, Shen Mingsu tried to step forward. As she passed behind him, she suddenly heard him say, “Ajin, without me, you won’t do well.”

She exhaled in relief. “Thank you, Lord Feng.”

“Ten days. If you still can’t do well in ten days, don’t make me wait again.”

—

After a clear day, the willow branches on both riverbanks seemed to have sprouted new leaves overnight, the tender green willows weaving across the river.

Shen Mingsu carried a wooden box as she crossed the bridge.

A group of children under the bridge poked their heads up with delight. One suddenly tossed her something. “Brother Shijin, a peach, it’s clean…”

Shen Mingsu smiled and caught it. “Thank you.”

The blacksmith’s shop was busy, with several customers waiting outside. Shen Mingsu didn’t disturb them but greeted as she passed by. “Brother Wei.”

The blacksmith Wei glanced up but saw only her back, smiling as he called out, “Shijin’s here!”

When the rain stopped, the street vendors all came out. Wang Auntie, who hadn’t seen Shijin all day yesterday, worried he might have caught a chill from the spring rain. Seeing him radiant now, she realized she had overthought. She asked with concern, “Why weren’t you around yesterday? Were you held up?”

Shen Mingsu smiled. “Spring rain makes one sleepy. I took it easy yesterday but will sing longer today and pack up late at night.”

Wang Auntie was surprised. He had been here for over half a year but never worked at night. Every evening, he closed up shop before sunset, always leaving before anyone else.

“Working nights is good. More people come out then; that’s when you earn.”

Wang Auntie was right. Puppet shows were more popular at night. During the day, Shen Mingsu performed two shows, mostly stories favored by women. At night, she switched to a more stirring piece.

“Slaying Guan Yu.”

She took out small puppets made of sheepskin, strung their strings, arranged them, and shone a lamp on them. The tone was different from the mournful singing of earlier days—strong and stirring.

Heaven hadn’t granted her the Shen family’s medical talent nor the wisdom of Lu Ban, but had given her another gift.

She could change her voice.

Even alone, she could play multiple roles.

“All the soldiers knelt together, pleading for release, ah...” The mournful singing came from behind the curtain, so touching it stirred the heart.

“The Battle of Red Cliffs, how many shed blood in the Yangtze... Now I slay Guan Yu to serve the general...”

At this point, a voice suddenly interrupted from the crowd outside. “Slow! Slow with the blade, young master, spare him, spare him!”

Shen Mingsu was forcibly interrupted.

She didn’t have a full troupe, and most of her usual audience were regulars, mostly women. Rarely did a stranger appear, especially a young master.

The audience turned to see a man wearing a silver mask covering half his face. Someone immediately recognized him. “Oh, the Slow-Slaying Young Master is here today.”

Hearing that nickname, the crowd laughed knowingly.

Shen Mingsu had heard rumors about him.

Some spoiled scion who frequented the area, always interrupting whenever someone sang “Slaying Guan Yu,” pleading for mercy.

Locals secretly called him the Slow-Slaying Young Master.

Mingsu indulged his request, but no matter how slow, the truth of history remained, and Guan Yu was slain in the end.

After three performances that day, Shen Mingsu closed up. When she came out, the crowd had dispersed except for the young master, still sitting on the stone bridge, seemingly lost in sorrow, motionless.

Shen Mingsu approached him, not knowing his name, and called out, “Slow-Slaying Young Master?”

He looked up. The silver mask hid half his face, but the visible side was handsome.

“Are you mocking me?”

Shen Mingsu realized her mistake. “My apologies, young master. Please forgive my rudeness.”

The young master didn’t mind and slowly rose from the bridge. Suddenly, he asked, “When you slay, do you ever feel reluctant?”

Shen Mingsu smiled. “Guan Yu’s death is not just a puppet show.”

The young master lowered his head, his expression gloomy and wistful.

It was the first time she had seen someone so tormented.

She still had the peach given by children that morning, untouched. She reached out and offered it to him, soothingly, “The soldiers wept bitterly. How could no one grieve?”

The young master’s brow relaxed instantly, as if finding a kindred spirit. Turning to look at her retreating figure on the bridge, he said, “I will come again to hear your singing at this time tomorrow.”

True to his word, the Slow-Slaying Young Master returned the next day and every day thereafter for three days without fail. Shen Mingsu always slowed down the slaying scene a little for him.

Grateful, he once gave her a single peach; the next day, he brought a whole basket.

Shen Mingsu noticed that despite his wealthy appearance, his manner was refined and not like the infamous rake she had heard about. She no longer called him the Slow-Slaying Young Master but asked, “May I know your name, young master?”

“Shi Quan.”

Shen Mingsu was taken aback.

He quickly asked, “And you?”

“Shi Jin.”

Shi Quan was momentarily stunned, then laughed heartily. “It seems we truly are destined.”

—

After three peaceful days, on the fourth afternoon, the hardship Feng Zhongyan had spoken of finally came.

Rong Xiu, through the window lattice, studied Shen Mingsu for a moment, then smiled faintly and said to those behind her, “Break it all.”