Chapter 113: The Xie Family Brother

The lamps in the Shen mansion's west wing burned all night.
Shen Gui and Shen Wan wanted to listen in—but Shen Xin had posted his trusted men at the courtyard gate. Not a mosquito could slip through. Learning what was said inside was easier said than done.
Inside, Shen Qiu poured Shen Miao a cup of tea. "Take your time, Sister."
Military affairs belonged to Shen Xin, Luo Xueyan, and Shen Qiu. Shen Miao had never seemed to touch such matters. A girl raised soft in the capital might not even grasp which great clans ruled Ding's layout. Military affairs were treacherous; the forces behind them were never what they looked like on the surface. Officials often could not sort them out—how much less Shen Miao?
Yet Shen Miao spoke—and spoke with clarity that made Shen Xin and Luo Xueyan exchange glances.
"Abandon the Shen army and rebuild with Luo troops," Luo Xueyan said. "But the Shen army are elites. The Luo army…" Speaking of the soldiers her father once led, sadness crept in. "How can they compare to the Shen army?"
"Luo troops may be scattered, but they are clean," Shen Miao said. "Traitors have already appeared in Father's Shen army. Leading such men into battle—who knows when another knife will come from behind?"
Silence fell on the three.
Comrades born and died beside you, soldiers raised by your own hand—traitors among them. No one wanted to see that.
Shen Xin said: "What Jiaojiao says—I have thought it too."
Shen Qiu and Luo Xueyan turned to him. The doubt on Shen Xin's face had faded. He looked at Shen Miao with hidden approval. "Hesitate too long and trouble follows. But on the carriage—when you said His Majesty will summon me back within two years—what did you mean?"
"Right," Shen Qiu turned to Shen Miao too. "Sister—how do you know the emperor will recall Father within two years?"
No one could read the emperor's mind. Shen Miao's words carried weight. Luo Xueyan grew tense at once. Those who could read Wenhui's thoughts were usually men close to him. Could it be Prince Ding? The old rumors about Shen Miao and Prince Ding had flown everywhere. Luo Xueyan's deepest fear was that her daughter would be dragged into the princes' struggle for the throne—used as a pawn for nothing.
Shen Miao lowered her eyes. Within two years, Emperor Wenhui would naturally recall Shen Xin. Ming Qi stood between tribute states—Qin to the north, Great Liang to the west—and the realm was precarious. By then Wenhui's health would be very poor. The crown prince would lie sick in bed. Prince Zhou and Prince Li would tear each other apart. And Fu Xiuyi's hidden net would spread wider.
As a loyal general, Shen Xin would be deployed again to awe foreign enemies—just as in her past life. Even while the throne still suppressed the Shen army, a thread would remain. The house of Shen would be squeezed dry to the last drop.
But she could not say this aloud. Under their varied gazes, Shen Miao smiled gently. "I only had a very real dream. In the dream, within two years Father rises again. The name Great General of Might and Valor will not be lost."
The answer was somewhat perfunctory—but she spoke softly, eyes clear to the bottom. Even a skeptic's heart would soften halfway.
Whether recall within two years was possible—no one could swear. Yet whether one year, two, three, or four—retreating to the northwest now was the best move. Not only to rise again, but because the fight for succession was at its fiercest. The Shen house in Ding, even without troops, might still be pulled into the whirlpool. Bold withdrawal in a rushing current—that was the principle. Before building merit, you must first protect your family.
That was what Shen Xin thought.
He smiled at Shen Miao. "If Jiaojiao says it was a dream, then the dream will come true. Father believes you." He did not mean to press further.
Those three words—"Father believes you"—nearly brought tears to Shen Miao's eyes. When she had insisted on marrying Fu Xiuyi, Shen Xin had tried to stop her. Only when she threatened her own life did he yield. A proud general who had commanded all his days showed defeat and helplessness and said: "Since he is the man you chose, Father trusts you."
And pushed the Shen house onto the road to ruin.
Shen Miao closed her eyes. The bloody past vanished in a breath. She said: "If Father truly believes me, tomorrow petition His Majesty to retreat and garrison Xiaochun City."
"Tomorrow?" Luo Xueyan startled. "So soon?"
"It must be soon. Then His Majesty will think Father acts from anger after losing the tally—a fit of pique. He won't read more into it." Shen Miao explained.
Shen Qiu wanted to speak—but Shen Xin ruled with one sentence: "We do it."
"Shen Xin!" Luo Xueyan was anxious. These were great matters. Shen Miao's reasoning had merit—but to decide so hastily seemed reckless.
Shen Xin shook his head. "You and I have fought across battlefields for years—yet we're not as clear-eyed as Jiaojiao." He looked at Shen Miao, gaze growing complex. At last he ruffled her hair. "If Jiaojiao were born a man—how many in this world could compare?"
Shen Miao watched him quietly.
What she had said today—no boudoir girl could have thought it. Shen Xin was a rough man, not a fool. He had likely seen the strangeness in her long ago. Yet he would not expose it. Even exposed, Shen Miao would never tell him the secret of rebirth. Perhaps that was unconditional trust between kin.
As in her last life, when Shen Xin had always stood on her side.
"The Shen house will be well," Shen Miao said, like a promise.
"Father will submit the memorial at tomorrow's court." Shen Xin smiled and rose, drawing Luo Xueyan up. "Madam should rest early too."
Luo Xueyan meant to argue—but seeing Shen Xin's face, she stopped. In all her years with him, Shen Xin had been confident and soaring. She had never seen him this heavy. A hero the people worshipped, stripped of command to rot on a border post—no one was more stifled than Shen Xin now. For the first time she softened her face and supported him. "All right."
Shen Qiu lingered behind, watching Shen Miao, wanting to speak yet holding back. At last he could not bear it. "Sister… do you want Father to rebel?"
Among the Shen family, Shen Qiu saw most clearly the ruthlessness in Shen Miao's bones. When Prince Yu coveted her, she left not one alive in his manor. When the Jing clan schemed against her, they died without whole corpses. The emperor had taken the Shen tally—was this seeming retreat only for safety?
"Eat the sovereign's grain, serve the sovereign's cause," Shen Miao smiled lightly. "The Shen house has always been loyal. Such a thing would never happen. Brother, don't think too much. If walls have ears and someone hears, trouble will find us both."
Shen Qiu paused. "So much the better. Sister… don't do foolish things." He turned and left.
Shen Miao slowly sat down again.
Rebellion—she wanted it. But rebellion without a villain's name was its own great affair. For now, avoiding disaster came first. When she returned, she would certainly send the Fu house a grand gift.
She only hoped they could swallow it.
……
Shen Xin's loss of command had heated Ding for a single day. By the second day new gossip covered it. Ming Qi produced fresh wonders daily; such scenes were not new. Yet what the streets talked about was still Shen Xin.
Word ran that on the morning after losing his tiger tally, Great General Shen Xin had handed Emperor Wenhui a memorial before the whole court—asking to take what remained of the vanguard and scattered Shen guards to garrison Xiaochun City.
The general who had towered over the realm would guard a frontier backwater. Others found it unbelievable; Shen Xin himself must have felt more stifled. Yet to petition of his own will looked like dissatisfaction with the throne's punishment—a decision made in spite.
Storytellers in wine shops made it vivid. Emperor Wenhui's face changed in the Hall of Golden Chimes. He threw the memorial at Shen Xin's face. Shen Xin remained stubborn, insisting on Xiaochun City. Would the emperor indulge your temper? Past merit meant nothing. You want the border? Fine—go guard it!
By tomorrow everyone in Ding knew the Great General would leave for Xiaochun City.
Almost every table in the wine shops debated it. Some said Shen Xin was right—a general stripped to a shell would only suffer in the capital; better leave far away. Others said he had been praised too high and did not know heaven's height—after deceiving the emperor and barely keeping his life, he dared show the throne his face. If Wenhui were not merciful, heavier punishment would have fallen.
In Kuaihuo Tower, Ji Yushu rested his chin on his hand and looked at Gao Yang. "What does Shen Xin mean? Throwing down the Shen army mess and walking away?"
"If so, there's real nerve—not just a blunt warrior who knows only charge." Gao Yang sighed. "Bold withdrawal—not everyone can manage it." He drank his tea and said to silent Xie Jingxing: "Why don't you speak?"
Xie Jingxing, interrupted, glanced at them. "The Shen house moves too fast."
"Fast?" Ji Yushu did not understand.
Xie Jingxing turned the teacup in his hand. A faint smile touched his lips. He had pointed Shen Miao toward retreat—meant to give the Shen house a way out. He had not expected their feet to be so quick. Stripped yesterday; memorial today. Shen Xin was a man who sought stability. For him to choose so fast, Shen Miao must have said something.
Wenhui ordered Shen Xin to pack and leave tomorrow—surface humiliation. Yet his own mind had been read drop by drop by a Shen girl. If he knew, who could say how he would feel? Xie Jingxing had a feeling that on Ming Qi's board, Shen Miao might hold a weight that could tip the scale. For him, about to leave the capital, it meant little.
"Yushu—come with me when I leave," he said. "Gao Yang—the rest is yours."
Ji Yushu rubbed his nose, excited. "Good, Third Brother Xie. The cooks here are terrible. Your cooks are better. At last I won't starve."
Gao Yang rolled his eyes. "You've eaten all of Ding. When were you ever hungry?" He turned solemn toward Xie Jingxing. "Rest easy. Leave it to me."
Xie Jingxing nodded.
……
The same news reached other ears. The Shen house was a great clan of Ding. Many officials had dealings with them; many more had fawned on Shen Xin's fame. But when walls fall, everyone pushes; when trees fall, monkeys scatter. Tea grows cold when men go. Shen Xin's demotion was plain. At the once-crowded Shen gate, almost no one came to see them off except a few houses very close to Shen Xin.
Shen Miao went to Guangwen Hall herself.
Leaving Ding meant no more classes. Lately, because Shen Miao had changed her ways, students had feared her somewhat. Now seeing the Shen military authority gone, mocking faces returned. Shen Miao walked past without a glance, as if she heard nothing— which only bored the noble children.
Feng Anning cried at once and seized her sleeve. "What will we do, Shen Miao? When you go—when will you come back?"
Shen Miao was somewhat at a loss. In her past life her own folly had kept the capital's noble daughters away. Reborn, she had chilled her heart and never tried to win anyone's liking. Feng Anning by accident had become something like a friend. Spoiled in temper, but without malice. Sometimes at this age she reminded Shen Miao of Wanyu.
She comforted her: "Not long. We'll be back."
"Liar." Feng Anning sobbed. "Father says General Shen angered His Majesty this time. When the emperor is angry, how can you return soon… Shen Miao, you must write to me. When you come back—will I already be married?"
Shen Miao nearly laughed—then could not. She knew the Feng family's end in her past life better than anyone. Two years hence the Feng house would not yet fall—but she patted Feng Anning's shoulder. "Nothing bad will happen. I will still see the day you marry."
Feng Anning wanted to say more—but Pei Lang entered with books. Dressed in green, he stood on the platform. His gaze found Shen Miao and paused. "Shen Miao—come with me."
If she was leaving Guangwen Hall, bidding farewell to her teacher was proper. No one thought it strange. Reluctantly Feng Anning released Shen Miao's sleeve and let her follow Pei Lang out.
Pei Lang led her to the triangular courtyard of Guangwen Hall. Teachers lived in residences within the academy. This was Pei Lang's own house—no one else could enter. He pushed open the nearest study door. Shen Miao followed and closed the door at the right moment.
"You're leaving?" This time Pei Lang did not circle. He asked straight out.
Shen Miao nodded.
Pei Lang's expression shifted. He hesitated. "About Liuying…"
"Liuying is settled," Shen Miao cut in. "She's doing well at the embroidery shop. Her double-sided embroidery was always excellent. To live as an embroiderer by craft is a good life. She might even take apprentices."
Pei Lang relaxed gradually. The Shen family was about to leave the capital. What he feared was that Liuying's matter might still be unfinished.
He relaxed—but Shen Miao stared into his eyes. "What about what Teacher Pei was considering?"
What she meant was serving as Fu Xiuyi's spy. At Kuaihuo Tower Pei Lang had shown his attitude—but how to act still needed thought. At her words Pei Lang frowned. "What do you want to say?"
"Two years." Shen Miao said. "Within two years I will return to the capital. By then Teacher Pei must be a trusted adviser at Prince Ding's side—the most relied upon kind."
Pei Lang laughed—a laugh edged with anger. "Shen Miao, do you overestimate me? I am only a poor scholar with nothing. Even if by luck I enter Prince Ding's circle—how would I win the name 'most relied upon'?"
"Teacher need not belittle yourself. A fine horse naturally finds a discerning patron." Shen Miao smiled. "If you are not a fine horse, to win a patron you must see yourself as one." She lowered her voice and looked at him with challenge. "If Teacher cannot manage it—shall I tell Liuying Prefect Pei's story? And say the man behind all this was Teacher? Do you think Liuying would weep with gratitude?"
"You—!" Pei Lang flushed with rage. Shen Miao was threatening him. If he could not become Fu Xiuyi's right hand, she would tell Liuying everything. Liuying already bore hatred for the past. Learning he had arranged it all, she might return to Baoxiang House and hang her sign again.
Pei Lang said: "I have never seen a woman so vicious and cunning." The girl before him showed no respect for elder or teacher. He even felt an illusion—Shen Miao always pressed him down. Provocation, threat, and some unnameable resentment left him somewhat flustered. Who would imagine that a gentle, delicate-looking girl hid a heart harder and colder than any deep-house matron?
"Teacher jokes. The world is hard—one only struggles to survive." Shen Miao smiled humbly, as if accepting a master's lecture—while her hand slipped from her sleeve and placed something in Pei Lang's sleeve.
Pei Lang started. Soft fingertips brushed his wrist—then withdrew, like a butterfly about to fly. Against his will he felt an urge to hold her back. In an instant he sobered, gripping what felt like a letter in his sleeve, and looked at Shen Miao in doubt.
"The embroidery shop where Liuying lives—when Teacher has time, you may steal a glance. There is also other business on it. For two years, I hope Teacher will follow it." Shen Miao said.
Pei Lang stiffened. Instead of anger he laughed coldly. "Shen Miao—you want me as your puppet?"
"Scholars have scholars' pride. Teacher's learning fills five cartloads; your backbone is iron—I admire it. For another scholar I would never use such means." Shen Miao lifted her head, watching Pei Lang's anger, and curved her lips. "But does Teacher still have a choice?"
"If Teacher refuses—that is fine. Across a thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers, I still have ways to tell Liuying stories." She smiled gently. Her tone was blade-sharp.
A nameless fire rose in Pei Lang's chest. He felt stifled. Before Shen Miao he had none of a teacher's dignity. Whenever he wanted to rage, her triumph silenced him. He even wondered—had he owed her something in a past life, and she had come to collect?
He swallowed his grievance. "If I do as written—will I meet your requirements?"
"I trust Teacher's ability." Shen Miao lowered her eyes.
On the letter were things Fu Xiuyi would do in coming years. On the surface he seemed without ambition; in private he always recruited men of talent. How to recruit, how to find the clever—no one knew better than Shen Miao. Pei Lang was no ordinary man. Show a little "talent" and Fu Xiuyi would notice.
Winning Fu Xiuyi's trust required step-by-step scheming. The letter did not tell Pei Lang exactly what to do—only opportunities to approach Fu Xiuyi. How to earn trust was his own affair.
That was the greatest trust Shen Miao could give.
In her past life Fu Xiuyi and Pei Lang shared one boat. Now she was the first to spot this fine horse—and had branded the horse-master. She would let Fu Xiuyi taste betrayal from someone close.
She glanced at Pei Lang. Suddenly weary—the business was done; she did not want more words and turned to leave.
"Shen Miao!" Pei Lang called. Hesitated. At last spat two words: "Take care."
Shen Miao was slightly surprised. She only said coolly: "Thank you," and left. Pei Lang alone stood watching her back, eyes complex.
When Shen Miao left Pei Lang's courtyard, in the garden outside the academy stood a soft white dumpling of a boy. Seeing her, his eyes lit up. He ran over with delight. "Shen family sister!"
Su Minglang rolled toward her like a ball.
Shen Miao: "…"
Su Minglang was past ten this year. Perhaps the Su house pampered him too well. Unlike his prematurely mature brother Su Mingfeng, he looked younger than a child of five or six. A few steps left him panting. Shen Miao went to him, steadied his plump arm, and asked: "What's wrong?"
"Shen family sister—you're leaving?" Su Minglang puffed. "I'll wait here obediently till you come back, all right?"
Shen Miao paused. After news of Shen Xin's Xiaochun posting, everyone asked: when will you return—or will you not return at all? They seemed sure Shen Xin might stay on the frontier forever. Su Minglang's first words were to wait for her return—as if certain she would come back to Ding. Amused, she tapped his forehead and teased: "Who says I must come back? Maybe I won't."
"No." Su Minglang lifted his head, certain. "Sister will definitely come back!"
Shen Miao tilted her head. When he spoke, his eyes were firm without a trace of doubt. She asked: "Why so sure?"
"Brother Xie from the Xie house said—within two years you'll definitely return!" Su Minglang said eagerly.
Brother Xie from the Xie house? Shen Miao's mind turned. Xie Jingxing?
"Though Father and Eldest Brother think after your family leaves, no one knows when you'll return. Father even says General Shen angered His Majesty—His Majesty may never recall him in his life." Su Minglang spoke childishly, not noticing whether his words might wound. He went on: "But when Brother Xie came to see Eldest Brother, he told Brother that General Shen will certainly return within two years!"
Xie Jingxing… could read her mind so accurately? A chill ran through Shen Miao.
"Though Brother Xie is very bad—bullies me, bullies Eldest Brother, bullies Father… everything he says comes true!" Su Minglang spoke more fluently than ever, as if proving something. "He said you'll return—you will, won't you, Shen family sister?"
Shen Miao thought of Fu Ming. Her heart softened. She laughed. "He's right. I will come back."
"Wonderful!" Su Minglang jumped and counted on his short fingers. "Then I'll wait here for sister. When sister returns I'll treat you to candied haw, dough figurines, steamed sugar cakes…"
Shen Miao laughed again. With Su Minglang, gloom seemed to sweep away. Time felt carefree. She said: "Listen to your father. But—about my return—what you said to me today, tell no one."
If others heard and gossip reached Wenhui's ears, he might catch a thread of truth. One person knowing her mind was enough. More was worse.
Seeing Shen Miao's serious face, Su Minglang obeyed at once. "I know. I only told sister. I won't tell anyone." He whispered: "Shen family sister—you can't tell Brother Xie either. I eavesdropped. If he knows I listened in, he'll beat me again."
In the Su family's second young master eyes, the elegant Young Marquis of the Xie house was a black-hearted bandit through and through.
Shen Miao: "All right. I won't tell."