Chapter 4: Old Madam Shen

Early autumn. A line of wild geese crossed the northern sky, heading south toward warmth. The courtyard's summer leaves thinned. Even the pond fish looked colder.
The girl's black hair was pinned in a looped bun with a coral hairpin. A deep red cloud-goose dress traced her slender frame.
Bailu draped an embroidered cloak over Shen Miao's shoulders. "Miss is still recovering—mind the chill."
Shen Miao shook her head.
She was small for her age—not tall like Shen Yue and Shen Qing, round-faced, usually timid. She looked eleven or twelve.
Today something was different.
Shuangjiang watched and felt uneasy.
Pale skin, delicate build—and not a smile on her face. Not cold exactly. Not foolish either. Something quiet. Almost nostalgic, gazing at the sky. She stood as she always had, yet carried herself differently overnight—dignified, almost regal.
Shuangjiang shook her head, as if that could dismiss the thought, and smiled. "What is Miss looking at?"
Since breakfast Shen Miao had stood in the courtyard, lost in the sky.
"Only wondering—when these geese fly south, do they pass the western deserts too?" she said softly.
The western deserts—where Shen Xin held the border. Her mother and elder brother were there. Last month's letter said the capital had just turned cool while snow already dusted the northwest, every blade of grass dead.
"Miss misses Master and Madam," Shuangjiang laughed. "When New Year comes and the general returns, he'll be so proud to see how tall you've grown."
Shen Miao smiled. Bitterness touched the corner of her mouth.
The great general came home once a year. His first greeting was his daughter's scandal—shameless pursuit of a prince, threatening suicide to force a marriage. How proud could he be?
And the man she wanted was a thief after Shen armies for the throne. The succession was a snake pit. The Shen clan never wanted in—her blind love dragged them under. Extermination in the end.
Shen Miao shut her eyes.
Half a year was enough for everything to change. After her coming-of-age, her marriage became a leash the east wing could yank anytime. From that year on, the east wing dropped its mask—step by step, they drove her into a dead end with no way back.
"Miss? Miss?" Bailu saw her mistress go strange, knuckles white on the cloak, and called softly.
Shen Miao returned. Guyu came running. "Miss—the people from Rongjing Hall are waiting."
Rongjing Hall—Old Madam Shen's residence. This morning the old woman's maid had checked on Shen Miao. She was told to come pay respects when she was well. Everyone knew whether that meant courtesy or a trial.
Shen Miao smiled faintly, tightened her cloak. "Let's go."
In the Shen manor, east wing and west wing were worlds apart.
When the old general lived, he drilled sword and fist in an empty yard on the west side. After he died, Shen Gui and Shen Wan took the civil path. Only Shen Xin inherited the blade. The yard and the whole west wing went to him. The east wing was larger—first branch, second branch, and Old Madam under one roof.
The west wing was poorer ground—less sun, less than half the east wing's favor. Nothing to boast of. Shen Xin only laughed and called it a bargain. He and his wife were military stock—plain white walls, black tiles, no fuss. Nothing like the east wing's polished elegance.
Shen Miao had once hated the west wing and envied the east—pretty, refined. She had resented Shen Xin in secret. Now she laughed at her own ignorance.
Her home was plain, not poor—open-hearted in every corner. Nothing like the east wing's spirits—gold outside, rot within.
They walked the long corridor, through a garden trimmed to perfection, to the doors of Rongjing Hall.
The hall was dressed to show culture—bamboo plaques, pine-and-crane bronze handles, every detail refined.
"Fifth Miss is here," Xi'er, Old Madam's maid, announced.
Shen Miao stepped inside.
A warm family picture—everyone already gathered. Second Madam Ren Wanyun and Third Madam Chen Ruoqiu flanked Old Madam. Shen Qing sat beside her with a plate of pastries. On the other side, five-year-old Shen Yuanbai from the second branch shoved sweets toward Old Madam's mouth until she bent double laughing.
No one seemed to notice Shen Miao until Shen Yue smiled. "Fifth Sister, you're late. Seventh Brother nearly finished the sugar steamed curd."
Shen Miao inclined her head. "I'm not fully recovered. Two steps and the world spins—I rested on the way. That's why I'm late."
Silence.
Shen Yue had meant to call her arrogant. Shen Miao didn't mind pointing out the obvious—Grandmother demanding a sick girl cross the manor to bow.
After a beat, Ren Wanyun laughed. "Little Five really is delicate. Two doctors in a few days—thank heaven she looks well now."
"Are you better?" A hoarse, stern voice—impatience barely hidden.
Shen Miao looked up at Old Madam Shen.
The smile was gone. Chin lifted, proud. Past seventy, yet she wore a thin peach-red dress with green jade buttons at the collar, a white-orchid forehead band, silver hair in a cloud bun studded with beads.
She cared fiercely for appearances. In her girlhood, Shen Miao had thought Old Madam the noblest woman alive—grace that lasted into old age. Now it was absurd.
The old general's first wife—Shen Xin's mother—came from a great house, a true lady. She died midlife. On campaign the general rescued a singer from ruffians. She had nowhere to go and became his concubine, bore Shen Gui and Shen Wan, and was later raised to wife.
The singer climbed until she was Madam, then Old Madam. Titles changed. The market-town soul never did. Shen Miao remembered: Old Madam once tried to marry her to the crippled Prince of Yuzhou—just to clear the path for Shen Qing.
She studied the woman before her. Young, Old Madam had been beautiful—sharp chin, large bright eyes. Age had shrunk her to a dried drum skin with two eyes stuck on top. She still fought it—lipstick bright as a girl's.
Truly… nothing dignified about it. Shen Miao filed the verdict away with the calm of a former empress and said humbly, "I took medicine. Much better. Thank you for your concern, Grandmother."
The next instant, Old Madam's voice cracked like a whip.
"Unfilial girl—kneel!"