Chapter 38: Frozen Knees Cannot Alter Fate; Cold Glances Force the Zhang Clan to Relinquish Power

At daybreak, frost blanketed the ground, and the crowing of a rooster pierced the morning silence of the Shen family village.

Inside the ancestral hall, Shen Yongzhi, having knelt all night, had lips turned blue and was trembling uncontrollably. Suddenly, the wooden doors were kicked open with a bang, and a gust of cold wind ushered in a group of figures.

Leading them was Shen Yongzhi’s grandmother, Madam Zhang. Leaning on a pear-wood cane, her eyes were clouded yet sharp with malice. She was trailed by several distant relatives—all women who had previously benefited from her small favors—each adopting a self-righteous air of justice.

"Shen Guilan!" Madam Zhang struck the bluestone floor hard with her cane. The dull thuds seemed to echo in everyone’s hearts. "You heartless widow! How dare you make the eldest grandson of the Shen family kneel here? He is only ten! Ten years old! In this freezing weather, if his knees are ruined, who will burn incense for our ancestors? Who will burn paper money for your late husband?"

She began to wail, turning to throw herself at the village elder, tears and mucus streaming down her face. "Elder, you must uphold justice for the eldest branch! This isn't just punishing a child; this is cutting off the very roots of the Shen family!"

The women behind her immediately chimed in.
"That’s right, Guilan. Yongzhi is just a boy. If he made a mistake, a few words would have sufficed; why be so cruel?"
"Sister-in-law, you are a mother yourself. Doesn't it hurt your heart to see your own son suffer?"
"Filial piety is paramount. If you treat your mother-in-law this way, the whole village will laugh at our Shen family!"

Accusations of "unfilial" and "vicious" flew through the air, and the very atmosphere in the hall grew stifling. Had this been the old Shen Guilan, she would have crumbled in terror, begging for mercy long ago. But today, she stood tall, her eyes cold as ice. She ignored the clamoring women and watched Madam Zhang’s performance in silence until their voices finally faded.

She gave a signal to her daughter, Xiuwei, who immediately pulled a stack of yellowed parchment from her robes and handed it over with both hands.

Shen Guilan took the papers, slowly unfolded them, and held them high. Her voice was not loud, but it carried clearly to everyone’s ears: "Madam Zhang says I am being too harsh? Then listen and judge for yourselves whether this punishment is unjust!"

She swept her gaze across the crowd, enunciating every word: "This document is a deposition with the thumbprints of twenty households in the village! It states clearly: in the last half-month, Shen Yongzhi stole three chickens from Aunt Wang’s family, took a string of copper coins from Uncle Li, and gambled away the five silver coins I had saved for Xiuwei’s tuition!"

The crowd erupted in an uproar.

Shen Guilan’s voice rose sharply. "Five silver coins! That’s enough to feed the whole village for three days! Enough for my daughter to attend the academy for three years! And he gambled it away! Madam Zhang, tell me now: is this punishment too harsh?"

She took a step forward, glaring at the women who had been fanning the flames. "If I don't punish him for stealing my money today, tomorrow he will steal your rice, or your daughters' dowries! Will you stand by then?"

The women’s faces paled. They retreated half a step, unable to utter a single word.

Shen Guilan turned and handed the deposition to the village elder, her tone firm. "According to Article Three of the Shen Family Rules: 'Any descendant who steals from their elders shall kneel in the ancestral hall for three days as a warning to others.' I am acting according to the rules. Who dares to call me unjust?"

Just as she finished, a tall man stepped out from the crowd—Liu the Blacksmith. He roared, "Sister-in-law Shen is right! If this brat were my son, I would have broken his legs already! Kneeling for three days? That’s too light!"

"My dried meat went missing; it must have been him!"
"He cheated my kid out of money for a sugar figurine!"

Villagers stepped forward one by one to testify, and Madam Zhang’s supporters were instantly drowned out by the chorus of indignation.

The village elder looked at the page filled with red thumbprints and listened to the angry accusations coming from all sides; cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Clearing his throat, he steeled himself and said, "Shen Guilan is acting according to the rules; it is reasonable and lawful. The punishment is not over; no one is to release him!"

"You... you all..." Madam Zhang trembled with rage. Her cane crashed onto the ground as she pointed at Shen Guilan, her mouth quivering, yet she could not find a single word to say. Never in her life had she been so humiliated. With neither reason nor public support on her side, she turned to leave.

"Mother," Shen Guilan’s cold voice came from behind.

Madam Zhang stopped but did not turn around.

"If you truly love your grandson and pity his knees, you may plead for him now," Shen Guilan continued. "But before you do, you must admit your wrongdoings before the entire village—admit that you have been biased and overprotective all these years, raising him into a good-for-nothing who steals, gambles, and ruins the family."

Madam Zhang stiffened as if struck by lightning. Forcing her to admit her faults in public? That was worse than death. She stood frozen, her face flushing crimson, then turning gray, then white. In the end, she said nothing and fled as if escaping a disaster.

That afternoon, Gu Changshan from the back mountains quietly appeared outside the Shen family courtyard wall. He hung a wild rabbit, injured by a trap, on a branch near the woodpile. The rabbit’s belly had been sliced open and stuffed with a paper-wrapped herb pouch, which emitted the scent of medicine for blood circulation and pain relief.

When Xiuwei went out to gather wood, she discovered it and happily carried it inside. Shen Guilan opened the oil-paper package, found the herbs, and discovered a small "mountain" character carved from pine twig, no larger than a fingernail, tucked inside. Her gaze flickered, and she gave a faint nod.

That night, she mashed the herbs herself and applied them to Shen Yongzhi’s swollen knees. As the medicine touched his skin, Shen Yongzhi gasped in pain, yet felt a cool, soothing relief. Instinctively, he wanted to say thank you, but he met his mother’s icy gaze.

"Don't thank me," Shen Guilan said coldly. "It was a kind soul from the mountains who saved your legs, not me. Remember this: in this world, aside from me, no one owes you anything."

Shen Yongzhi was stunned. For the first time, he clearly realized that at home, he was not the precious treasure he had always assumed himself to be.

In the dead of night, a dark figure crept to Shen Guilan’s door. It was Madam Zhang. Refusing to give up, she intended to pry open the door and steal the land deeds under the cover of darkness. As her hand touched the latch, there was a loud crash. Her foot slipped, and she sprawled across the threshold, crying out in pain. Shen Guilan had been prepared—she had wedged an embroidery frame behind the door and scattered dried soybeans on the floor.

The commotion woke Xiuwei, who was sleeping on a floor mat in the outer room, and she immediately lit a lamp. In the lamplight, Shen Guilan emerged wearing her robe. She looked at the disheveled Madam Zhang on the floor with eyes devoid of surprise—only coldness.

The noise also woke the neighbors; several windows were pushed open, and people watched from the shadows. Shen Guilan did not reach out to help Madam Zhang. Instead, she pulled a document from under her pillow and held it up for all to see. "This is a copy of the land deed! The original has been filed with the village head. I have also signed an affidavit: if anything happens to me, all thirty acres of land belong to my daughter, Xiuwei. Shen Yongzhi will not get a single cent!"

She walked to the door and looked down at Madam Zhang, who was collapsed on the ground. Her voice was like a blade: "Mother, what you tried to steal tonight wasn't just a few sheets of paper; you were trying to choke the life out of my daughter!"

The wind blew by, kicking up dust and chilling the hearts of those watching in the dark. They all knew—the Shen family was about to change.

In the ancestral hall, Shen Yongzhi could faintly hear the commotion outside, but his knees ached too much for him to move, and his heart was filled with profound panic. The night was long, and the wind grew colder and colder, sounding like someone weeping in the distance.