Chapter 118: Two Years Later

Late spring—grass long, orioles flying. Drizzle beat flowers into wet red clusters. The small town breathed spring fragrance; even the sand wind seemed softer.
Rain dripped from eaves onto blue stone, splashing tiny pools. Each clear drop that leaped looked pitiable, dear. In a cage on the beam a oriole chattered—clear song mixed with rain, finer than any master's zither.
At the corridor's end a young girl came running. Peach-pink embroidered skirt, bright and sweet—yet she held both hems, charging this way in comic haste. Wheat skin, lively mischief. She shouted as she ran: "Little Cousin! Little Cousin!"
"Sister—slow down!" The boy behind yelled. "Ground's slippery—you'll fall!"
As he spoke the girl stumbled—saved by a light foot touch, some martial skill. She turned on the boy furiously. "Luo Qian—shut your crow mouth!"
Luo Qian stuck out his tongue. Behind him two tall figures appeared. A displeased voice: "Luo Tan—carry on like that and you'll never marry."
"Sa Brother!" Luo Tan stamped. "If I don't marry, I'll marry Cousin Qiu!"
Luo Qian snorted. "Cousin Qiu wouldn't want a shrew like you."
"Luo Qian!" Luo Tan made to hit him.
"Enough—stop fooling." The mild youth at the rear smiled. "Didn't you come to see Cousin? Go in."
After their racket they reached the inner courtyard. Bailu and Shuangjiang tended flowers outside. Seeing them they said: "Miss waits inside."
Luo Tan swept the curtain aside. "Little Cousin!"
No incense burned in the room—yet somewhere the maids had found jasmine. The whole space smelled sweet and clean. Before the window sat a girl in deep teal cloud-goose fine brocade, purple-trimmed emerald skirt—colors that should age a face, yet she looked like jade through frost. Drizzle at the pane. Hearing them she lifted her head—a face of rare delicate beauty.
Dark lively eyes, graceful brows, pomegranate lips, teeth like beads—drunk-making as a new moon. Strange: her looks were pampered, dawn-snow pitiable—yet her gentle composure held a stately weight, as if she could bear great ceremony. Beneath that calm, if you looked closer, something harder than her softness.
She turned with a smile, eyes bright—and hearts skipped. A casual smile and this plain study seemed carved jade palace; she the noble on the high seat, looking down lightly.
Those at the door paused. Even after many times, her careless brilliance could still stun. Grace in every gesture—perhaps that was what people meant.
A moment passed before Luo Tan reacted, dashed in. "Little Cousin—that skirt is beautiful!"
Girls, however wild, love beauty alike. Shen Miao smiled. "If you like it, have the tailor make another."
Luo Tan wrinkled her nose. "I couldn't wear that color—only envy." She studied Shen Miao and sighed. "No wonder Xiaochun's young masters ask Ling Brother about you daily. Little Cousin—you grow more beautiful every year."
This was the seventy-first year of Ming Qi. Two years had passed. Shen Miao had grown. The last childish roundness showed clearer outline; features grew refined. Her gentle temper unchanged—if anything smoother—yet the great bearing beneath deepened. On the street people turned to look. No wonder Luo Ling and Luo Sa's brothers privately asked whether she was betrothed.
Xiaochun had beauties—but none with bearing like this.
"Of course—whose cousin is she?" Luo Qian swaggered forward, one hand on Shen Miao's desk. "Little Cousin—His Majesty sent silver again."
"Rewards again?" Shen Miao said, closing her book. Luo Qian caught the title and wondered: "Records of Qin? Why read Qin things?"
"Casual reading." Shen Miao answered without care.
Luo Sa's eyes flashed. Luo Ling watched Shen Miao and asked softly: "Rewards all year—lately too often. Cousin—why do you think?"
He asked her naturally, as if consulting a younger girl were nothing to blush at. The four juniors would not mock her. How much skill Shen Miao held was an open mystery—but they tacitly kept her secrets from the elders, sure whatever she hid would not harm the Luo house.
"When things are abnormal, something is wrong." Shen Miao said. "The Son of Heaven is ever suspicious. The Luo army's swift rise would usually be quietly suppressed. Frequent rewards look like promotion. That means he wants something." She paused. "His Majesty wants something from the Luo army—or means to raise its status. As for what—Ming Qi's centennial tribute is near, isn't it?"
Everyone paused. Luo Tan rubbed her chin. "Seems so."
"At tribute, Qin and Great Liang will come. Qin and Ming Qi are evenly matched. Great Liang is stronger still. His Majesty will fear." Shen Miao said calmly. "The Shen army is gone. The Xie army crippled. Ming Qi has no pillar general. That won't do."
"So His Majesty lifts the Luo house to awe Qin and Liang!" Luo Tan said quickly.
Shen Miao nodded.
"I see…" Luo Qian said, looking at her with admiration again. Same age—yet he always felt she was older, steadier than Luo Ling. Court analysis—she never avoided it. Elders spoke in circles; Shen Miao was harsh and direct—"the emperor is suspicious" was not words elders would use. The Luo young liked her, truly accepted her—because she carried something magnetic. Perhaps Ding people saw more than Xiaochun folk. Shen Miao always knew what they did not.
"Not necessarily good," Luo Sa frowned. "Higher you are lifted, harder you fall."
"True." Shen Miao said. "But also a chance."
"What kind of chance, Cousin?" Luo Ling asked with a smile.
"Two years the Luo army has barely risen. His Majesty means to promote. Greater merit brings greater danger—but the Luo army now has strength others cannot bully. These two years' training—the men serve the Luo house, not the throne. This is Luo's force, not Ming Qi's. His Majesty promotes Luo people. Hold to that line."
All under heaven the king's land; all on earth the king's subjects—yet Shen Miao drew Luo and Ming Qi as two clear lines. Luo Sui might faint hearing it—words that sounded like preparation for rebellion. The Luo young were surprised—not angry.
Unlike their elders, the young were born after the Luo decline. The court gave no silver, forgot the Luo army on the border. Resentment grew; loyalty to the throne thinned.
After silence fever lit Luo Sa's eyes. "Little Cousin speaks well." Violent and impulsive, unlike mild Luo Ling—he rarely praised anyone. Now he did—clear agreement.
Luo Ling was steadier but did not oppose.
Luo Qian and Luo Tan, lively by nature, trusted her without cause. The emperor's rewards—the Luo young mostly agreed: good thing; do not discourage.
"Speaking of which," Luo Tan leaned on the desk, "Little Cousin is sixteen now. Yesterday a sister asked if you're betrothed—if not, look at her brother. Cousin—want to meet him?"
Xiaochun customs were open. If a girl caught your eye, kin could inquire. Luo Qian said: "Nonsense—Cousin is only sixteen, no hurry. You're eighteen—worry about yourself!"
"Why should I hurry?" Luo Tan tossed her hair. "I'm pretty and clever—at eighty I'd still have suitors. I'm thinking of Cousin—delicate thing, men eyeing her daily—better find a husband to shield her. Luo Qian, stay so rough and no girl will marry you!"
"Who says no girl will marry me?" Luo Qian protested. "Worst case there's Cousin—kind heart, that day she'd marry me and save me, right?" He leaned in shamelessly.
Luo Tan slapped his face aside. "Look in a puddle at yourself. If Cousin marries, Ling Brother and Sa Brother aren't wed yet—who's not better than you? Ask them if they'd marry Cousin!"
The talk swerved to Luo Ling and Luo Sa. Luo Ling paused, cheeks faintly red. Luo Sa coughed and looked away. Awkward silence.
Luo Tan noticed nothing, chin in hands, smiling. "Little Cousin—what kind of man do you like? Handsome? Rich? Good at martial arts? Writes poetry?"
Shen Miao looked at Luo Tan. The three men pretended to look elsewhere—but ears stood straight. Shen Miao said: "One who can beat my eldest brother."
"Thud"—Luo Qian's foot slipped and he fell, wailing: "No no—Cousin Qiu's skill is so high, who could beat him!"
……
Meanwhile others spoke of Shen Miao's marriage too.
In a small room Madam Ma, Madam Yu, and Luo Xueyan talked. Unlike the Shen house in Ding, the Luo sisters-in-law got on well. Madam Yu gentle, Madam Ma sharp, Luo Xueyan martial and direct—two years of easy harmony.
Madam Yu held an invitation. "Madam Zhang in town asks us to visit—and bring Jiaojiao."
Madam Ma laughed. "That Madam Zhang, proud because her house produced a provincial graduate, looking down on military folk—why invite us now? Wine in the cup, meaning elsewhere—she comes to see Jiaojiao." She nudged Luo Xueyan. "Little Sister—Jiaojiao has more face than Father now."
As Shen Miao grew, many Xiaochun families inquired. Before, they feared a Ding girl from rumor—a heaven-storming tyrant. Two years proved her steady and agreeable—better than flighty local girls. That warm, grand bearing made matrons think: as mistress she'd hold a house firm. She was pretty; the Luos were famous; the rebuilt Luo army made them a prize—matchmakers nearly wore out the threshold.
Madam Ma said half-jealous, half-envious: "A daughter every house wants—lucky. Our Tan'er—so big, still fooling. No suitors, no go-betweens. Will she be an old maid at home?" She had meant a joke—then real worry crept in.
Luo Xueyan comforted: "Tan'er's lively temper is good. A match will come. Why fret? Jiaojiao is only sixteen—yet seems deeper than a sixty-year-old matron. Not like me, not like her father—who knows whom she takes after."
"Little Sister—why worry?" Madam Ma laughed helplessly. "Girls like Jiaojiao are rare. That bearing—sit anywhere, nobility all over. Palace consorts might lack her presence. Born to it."
"True," Madam Yu praised. "We've lived in Xiaochun years—old clan matrons never had Jiaojiao's air."
Luo Xueyan shook her head and sighed. Obedient and sensible was good—but so young and so heavy worried her. She wished Shen Miao merry like Luo Tan—a girl should be lively.
"Still," Madam Yu said seriously, "Jiaojiao is sixteen. If we don't return to Ding, she must marry eventually. Little Sister—anyone in mind? Before she was young; at sixteen one may speak of marriage. Half Xiaochun wants her—none you favor?"
Luo Xueyan paused. She had been bold with Shen Xin herself—never gone through formal viewing. She had not thought of this. At Madam Yu's words she was blank. Then: "That depends on Jiaojiao's wish."
"Could you bear to marry off a girl like Jiaojiao?" Madam Ma sighed. "So clever, so sweet—if she were mine I'd keep her forever." Unlike Ding clans, Xiaochun thought a daughter longer at home meant more precious. Madam Ma said: "Ling'er and Sa'er are marriage age too… what if Jiaojiao married into our own family?" Tentative.
A sudden thought—but Madam Yu's eyes lit. Usually soft, she spoke eagerly for once: "That could work! Ling'er and Sa'er both like Jiaojiao—especially Sa'er. You know he can't abide girls—yet these two years he's always at her door. Cousins close. I know my son—Sa'er loves her."
Luo Xueyan opened her mouth. Madam Yu shook her head: "But Sa'er is impulsive, doesn't know tenderness. If Jiaojiao married in, she might suffer—that blockhead. Ling'er is better—gentle, older. They went outing together last spring. Many wanted Ling'er—he refused. I think he likes Jiaojiao too—off duty he finds her first."
While Madam Yu talked, Madam Ma bristled. "Sister-in-law, how one-sided! By that logic our Qian matches her age—they play together. Qian is naughty but thoughtful—best friendship. And our Tan'er and Cousin Qiu—a pair! Kin upon kin!" She looked at Luo Xueyan. "Little Sister—what do you think?"
Luo Xueyan: "…"
Two eager gazes pinned her. She said stiffly: "Must ask the children…" She had not expected this—but on reflection it was not bad. All kin. Luo youth were sound character, good faces. Her ideal: "Office needn't be high, silver needn't be much—most important, put Jiaojiao first." She had been a girl once. Besides Shen Qiu, Luo Ling gentle, Luo Sa bold, Luo Qian sunny—all kind hearts. Whichever Shen Miao chose, days would be sweet not bitter.
Still she needed Shen Miao's mind. She did not know what she wanted. Once she had loved Fu Xiuyi's type—but two years without a word of him had eased Luo Xueyan's fear. Yet this heavy daughter worried her still.
"Find a chance to ask Jiaojiao?" Madam Ma hurried. "If she fancies one of ours—anyone—we'd be blessed. Marry early—sons clever, daughters beautiful."
Luo Xueyan flushed at her teasing. "Sister-in-law—youngest doesn't marry first."
Madam Ma waved. "I fear someone else snatches her first."
As they laughed, a servant reported at the door: "Madam—word from the palace. General wants the ladies in the front hall at once."
"Palace men just left—again? More rewards?" Madam Ma rose, casual.
"Seems… they want General-in-law Shen to return to the capital," the servant said.
Luo Xueyan's motion froze.
……
The Luo front hall was chaos.
Not disorder of hands—but of hearts. Emperor Wenhui's decree: Shen Xin and family back to Ding; restore the name Great General of Might and Valor; return the Shen army's tiger tally.
Two years ago Wenhui had slapped Shen Xin before the world. Now he offered sweet dates with fanfare. Whether Shen Xin would eat them was another matter.
Luo Sui sat in the high seat. Two years rebuilding the army had whitened his temples—but his might was undimmed. New fight in him made him look fiercer still. "Ming Qi's centennial tribute begins. His Majesty wants you back before tribute."
Once a century each dynasty held tribute. Ming Qi's last tribute had nearly let Qin slip through. The late emperor had barely survived on Shen and Xie houses. Now besides Qin came Great Liang.
If Qin made Ming Qi wary, Great Liang could crush it. Liang lay south—rich, strong horses, Yongle Emperor a true ruler. Unlike Ming Qi's murky court, Liang used talent and loyalty. If Liang had ambition, swallowing Ming Qi was only a matter of time—unless Yongle meant to take Qin and Ming Qi together and unify the realm.
The realm long divided must merge; long merged must divide. Qin, Liang, Qi—
Separate days would break. No one knew when. Wenhui clearly did not wish to see it in his lifetime. Since Xie Jingxing's death, Xie Ding had lost heart for court. Only Shen remained—tally taken, sent to Xiaochun.
Whether Wenhui regretted—unknown. Now he wanted Shen Xin to hold the line—especially after Shen Xin helped Luo Sui rebuild the ruined Luo army, proving command again.
Wenhui's message: Ming Qi needs Shen Xin.
Appear when needed; withdraw when not. Perhaps old Shen Xin had that devotion. After the throne's cruelty, perhaps not. A gentleman dies for one who knows him—is the royal house of Ming Qi such a friend?
"You should go back," Luo Sui said. "Shen Xin—take back what you lost. Show them what a Luo son-in-law and Shen son truly are."
Shen Miao looked up sharply.
She had expected recall in two years, expected Ding's board to overturn—but not that stern old Luo Sui would speak words bordering on treason.
Her eyes widened slightly. Luo Sui smiled at her. "Girl—you think the same. Am I right?"
Every eye in the hall found Shen Miao. Luo Lianying and Luo Liantai stirred but said nothing.
Shen Miao sighed inwardly. Her small schemes could not hide from a veteran who had ruled wind and storm. Perhaps from the start, from rebuilding the Luo army, he had guessed her aim.
She was grateful for his trust and backing. Family behind you—that was a good feeling. She looked at Luo Sui and curved her lips. "Yes, Grandfather."
Luo Sui laughed loud. Luo Ling looked at her, smile floating in his gaze. Luo Sa tugged a corner of his mouth. Luo Tan and Luo Qian exchanged blank looks.
Luo Xueyan and Shen Qiu were complex. Two years from Ding—now they must return?
Take back what was lost? Troops, fame, name, dignity.
Let them see what true Shen kin were. A tiger exiled on a cliff does not become a dog. A dragon in deep water will one day ride the nine heavens.
Shen Xin bowed his hands to Luo Sui. "I heed the General's teaching!"