Chapter 57: Personal Guard

"Miss—" Mo Qing paused, brow furrowed at the girl before him.
He knew wealthy houses treated lives like livestock—buy a servant like buying cattle. This girl likely meant the same—displeasure rose—then met her eyes and it scattered like mist.
She did not look down on him with pride—only faint warmth and respect—suspicion stirred and he blurted: "Have we met somewhere, Miss?"
Shen Miao sighed soft. "We have not."
"Then why—"
"Sir—you carry yourself well, bearing uncommon. Yet you sell the blade at your side—clearly at the end of the road. You are broke and need silver—but silver today will not solve tomorrow. I am General Shen Xin's legitimate daughter. When my father returns at year's end I can recommend you to him. Skill like yours buried in dust is waste."
"Shen the general?" Mo Qing jolted. He had not guessed this girl was Shen Xin's child. The general's name shook Ming Qi—a anchor on the field. A man should win merit under such a banner—blood in him seemed to heat at once.
Yet Dingjing gossip called Shen Miao a fool outright. The chrysanthemum feast had repaired some—but few had seen with their own eyes. Face to face—the rumors were lies.
"If the lady truly recommends me—I will not refuse. Chance given—I will repay in kind." Mo Qing was frank and quick—he did not dodge fortune.
She smiled, drew silver from her sleeve, tossed it to him. "I need no lifelong debt—only your full skill sold to me. Father returns at New Year. Until then follow me to the Shen house—I will pretend you are household guard; in secret you keep me whole."
In Mo Qing's ears that was strange news. Great clans bloomed outside and rotted within—she spoke of her own safety—life in the Shen house was not what it seemed. Surprise: Shen Xin's daughter—why still so hard? He was steady—did not ask—only said: "As Miss commands."
"Take this silver for urgent need." She said. "Finish your business—within three days come to the Shen house. I will place you."
He cupped fists again—river-and-lake air heavy on him. After he left Guyu and Jingzhe frowned. Jingzhe said: "Miss—this man is unknown. Ill intent in the house—"
Shen Miao walked to the carriage. "Fear nothing. Men like him are cleaner than what fills my yard now."
The west wing swarmed with second and third branch eyes—few of her own. And Mo Qing was no stranger.
Seated in the carriage she sighed inside—reborn, and meeting Mo Qing here.
In her last life Mo Qing was royal guard commander—recommended by Shen Xin, supreme blade. When she went hostage to Qin he guarded her—without him the perilous years might not have ended whole.
He was loyal to Shen Xin—loyal to her—yet after her return Consort Mei warred with her, framed Mo Qing for molesting palace women. Fu Xiuyi long wanted Shen Xin's people gone—she blocked every way—still watched Mo Qing die on a crime that never was.
Meeting him again—she had not known he could fall so low. That poverty made him easy to win. She knew his nature—steadfast, upright. Wolong Temple in three days—she had other plans; with Mo Qing, easier.
Back at the manor Yue and Qing were at Yi's house—only Shen Miao home. At the west yard Nanny Gui rushed up, fawning: "Miss returns—kitchen made sweet soup—will Miss take some?"
"Yes." Shen Miao said.
Cold treatment these days—sudden kindness made Gui's heart leap. "This old servant fetches it now."
When Gui returned with the bowl Shen Miao had rested. Gui set it careful on the table, smiled: "Miss—what you need for Wolong Temple in three days is ready. Anything else?"
Old Madam had ordered the trip—incense for household peace—Ren Wanyun leading the three girls; others need not follow. Gui had busied with this for days.
Shen Miao glanced—not heavy, not light: "Nanny—very eager about this trip."
Gui checked—smiled: "Miss rarely leaves the yard—must prepare thorough."
"With Nanny along—surely thorough." Sudden smile from Shen Miao—unease pricked Gui's gut.
"Second Madam arranged well—no error." Gui said.
"Then trouble Nanny to thank my second aunt for me." Shen Miao nodded. "You may go."
Gui exhaled, murmured and left—why was Fifth Girl strange now? Invisible weight beside her—even her usual swagger damped. Outside the door her spine straightened; she sneered at the room, voice for herself alone: "After three days—we'll see you strut before this old body!"
Inside Shen Miao lifted the sweet soup, walked to the window, tipped half the bowl into the leaf-flower soil.
"Miss—you truly go to Wolong Temple?" Bailu asked hesitant.
"I go." Shen Miao answered.
Last life at this hour she overheard maids in Rongjing Hall—Old Madam meant to marry her to Prince Yu. Night before the temple she fled to Prince Ding's house and offered herself as consort—wrong choice—yet by accident she missed another disaster.
Now she did not flee or hide—she went to Wolong Temple. Who wanted a show—she would make them the clumsiest play.