Chapter 2: The Renowned Beauty of the Shen Family

Shen Residence, Plum Garden.

Two maids in light blue dresses hurried along the covered walkway, balancing trays of food in their arms. Though their steps were swift, there was not the slightest hint of panic; the trays remained steady in their grasp.

The maids passed through the long corridor, stepped through a moon gate, circled a rockery, and suddenly the view opened before them. Beyond the rockery lay a small lake, with plum trees scattered along its banks. Strange rocks and mountains dotted the water, with a waterwheel and arched bridges; a few waterfowl swam lazily amid the scene.

Having no time for the scenery, the maids followed a petal-strewn path along the lake’s edge toward a cluster of residences on the western side. Crossing a threshold, they approached a wooden partition on the right, where another maid in pale yellow attire awaited them at the doorway, receiving the trays. Nearby, another maid whisked away the bamboo covers draped over the dishes, revealing an array of exquisite pastries. Satisfied that the treats were unspoiled, she nodded to the blue-clad maids and carried the trays inside.

Relieved to have completed their errand, the two blue-robed maids finally let out a breath, silently stepping aside to stand at attention by the doors, awaiting further instructions.

The Shen Residence was vast, with countless servants, each with their own duties. As mere errand maids, they wondered when they might be promoted to more leisurely positions serving directly beside their masters.

One blue-robed maid wiped at her temples, unsure if the droplets there were sweat or rain. Only then did she lift her eyes to the left, where an ancient zither stood. A house musician was playing "Melody Among the Clouds," a piece by the famed contemporary zither master Gongyang Qianshan.

Inside, to the left, a maid carried a tray to a table beside a couch. The couch, crafted from the finest camphor wood from Lingnan and padded with embroidered silks and cotton, repelled insects and mildew and exuded a delicate fragrance. Behind it stood a carved screen, upon which clouds and mountains loomed, ancient pines standing tall amid the mist.

To the right of the table lounged a middle-aged man in simple grey robes, a maid rhythmically massaging his shoulders from behind. His eyes were half-closed; with his square face, he resembled a dozing tiger. His nose was straight, lips full, his mustache inky black and shaped like the character for eight. Even the short beard at his chin was neatly trimmed.

To the left of the table sat a beautiful woman in a crimson ruqun. Her face was round as a full moon, her forehead broad, brows arched like willows, and her almond eyes sparkled like luminous emeralds. Yet her expression was distant, a chill in the corners of her eyes.

The middle-aged man was none other than Shen Hao, nominal father-in-law to Lu Jin, the third son of the Shen family, former Vice Director of the Imperial Manufactories, now retired and head of the Shen family. The beautiful woman was Lu Jin’s mother-in-law, Zhou Manyun, eldest legitimate daughter of the influential Zhou clan of Yuzhang in Jiangnan.

“Madam, these are some new pastries the kitchen has prepared. Would you and the Master care to try them?” Xin Jun, the close maid in a pale violet dress, selected several small plates from the yellow-robed girl’s tray, setting them gently on the table with a warm smile.

“This rainy weather—how thoughtful of you,” Zhou Manyun’s troubled expression eased slightly.

“Husband, won’t you say something? Are you truly going to indulge her? Did you hear what she just said?” Zhou Manyun, remembering something, spoke again in exasperation.

“Don’t you know your own daughter? When has she ever listened to me?” Shen Hao cracked his eyes open, answering helplessly. Would this never end?

“If she had listened to you, our daughter would be a widow by now.” Zhou Manyun grew even more agitated at his words.

“Your elder brother holds some paltry post, barely earning a few taels of silver a year, yet wants to drag our daughter into it. You’re no better than him—I’ll never let this go!” She snatched a pastry and flung it at Shen Hao, crumbs scattering everywhere.

The maids hastened to clean up as Shen Hao used the opportunity to sit up.

No one would ever guess that the dignified mistress of the Shen family, so poised and proper in public, was this fierce at home.

Shen Hao could only sigh. His wife had been on edge these days, like a hen with ruffled feathers, ready to explode at the slightest provocation.

What had he even said wrong? How had matters come to this? Was it really his fault? Completely unreasonable.

Thinking of his recently departed daughter, Shen Yanxi, Shen Hao’s heart ached—she was the apple of the family’s eye. From birth, she had been clever and lovely, enchanting all who met her. By eight or nine, she already showed signs of rare beauty. She was resilient, pure in character, and exceptionally talented. By the time she reached womanhood, her reputation filled the capital, and she was admired throughout the realm.

Empress Nangong Yingyue, having heard of Shen Yanxi’s renown, summoned her by imperial decree, bestowing praise and declaring, “Her beauty is peerless in this age.” Shen Yanxi’s fame soared higher, and scholars and noble youths alike vied for her favor.

The Emperor Taihe, having once “accidentally” glimpsed Shen Yanxi at court, repeatedly hinted at bringing her into the palace. The Shen brothers always pretended deafness, refusing to comply. How could they let their cherished daughter be taken by an aging, dissipated monarch? And with the young Empress still in her prime, the best Shen Yanxi could hope for was the rank of imperial consort. For others, such an opportunity might seem like a step into the heavens, but for the proud Shen family, it was hardly worth coveting!

In the twenty-first year of Taihe’s reign, Shen Hao’s father—Shen Hengshan, former Grand Tutor and retired Grand Secretary—passed away from illness in Jiangzhou. The Shen children hurried home to mourn and observe the proper rites, finally enjoying a brief respite.

In recent years, they had considered arranging a marriage, but who would dare wed the woman coveted by the Emperor? The old matron couldn’t bear to marry off her granddaughter, insisting she would keep her by her side for life. With the family still in mourning, matters were further delayed.

Yet just days after Shen Rui, the eldest brother, resumed his post in the capital, word came that the Emperor had again raised the issue several times, even sending a letter to seek their opinion.

Shen Hao understood his brother’s intent. If he truly wished to refuse, he would not have written for advice. Times had changed; their father, once a pillar of the court, was gone, and with Shen Hao now handling family affairs, his elder brother’s influence at court had waned. It was understandable that Shen Rui saw marrying Shen Yanxi into the palace as a way to secure support.

Though these things went unsaid—letters were never entirely safe, and too much frankness could injure brotherly bonds—the decision ultimately fell to Shen Hao, as both family head and Shen Yanxi’s father.

He was reluctant to send his beloved daughter into the imperial harem, but could not risk offending the Emperor outright. A careful solution was needed.

Just as Shen Hao brooded over these troubles, Shen Yanxi unexpectedly brought home a young man, declaring she wished him to become her husband.

The whole family was stunned—what was this? Even if one wished to take a son-in-law, this was too hasty!

Once Yanxi explained the situation, however, the old matron, gazing at the bashful Lu Jin, was delighted. Her wrinkled face beamed with joy—surely this was heaven’s gift, a perfect match for her cherished granddaughter. Her years of prayer and devotion had not been in vain.

In the Shen household, the matriarch’s word was law, especially with her record of producing heirs. Who would dare object?

Not daring to defy her, Shen Hao took the next best course. He would go along with the situation for now—after a year or so, they could arrange a separation or expel the young man. For the Shen family, such things were easily managed.

And so it was settled. The family hurried to arrange a simple wedding, intending to inform the eldest brother in the capital afterward. “Your Majesty, it’s too late—my niece is already married.” Even the Emperor could not forcibly seize another man’s wife.

But just as the wedding concluded, Yanxi vanished, leaving the new groom dumbfounded and alone.

Barely had they completed the ceremony and before replying to the capital, word came that the Emperor had died.

One event after another—what was one to make of it!

Fortunately, few outside the family knew the details; otherwise, the Shens would have become a laughingstock.

Still, Shen Hao took comfort in the fact that his daughter and her new husband had never truly lived as man and wife, not seeing each other after the wedding. He only needed to wait for the commotion to die down before sending the young man away.

Yet just now, his daughter had come to say she wished to try getting along with Lu Jin. Neither parent could agree, but all their attempts to dissuade her failed.

Returning to the present, and faced with his wife’s simmering anger, Shen Hao forced himself to remain calm.

“For now, this is the only way. I, Shen Hao, care nothing for my own reputation, but the Shen family cannot be shamed like this. Who ever heard of marrying a son-in-law only to drive him out the next day?” Shen Hao sipped his tea, his expression grave.

“And while the Emperor may be dead, that doesn’t mean the matter is settled. Once the imperial funeral is over, people will remember. Everyone knows what was at play—best not to act too rashly. Our family fears little, but it would not look good.”

“We must wait and see. If all else fails, we’ll wait until Yanxi changes her mind.” He had only wanted to muddle through; who could have predicted his daughter’s stubbornness? A miscalculation indeed.

“That wretched Emperor—what harm he’s caused!” Zhou Manyun muttered angrily as her husband spoke.

“Speak carefully, wife!” Shen Hao nearly flung his teacup in alarm.

His wife’s temper—she dared to say anything. Even at home, this was reckless.

And she expected him to manage their daughter! Was that possible? Whom did Yanxi take after?

To bring home a man and marry him without so much as a word—was there no law left in the land?

“Whatever else, you know Mother’s wishes. She would never permit Yanxi to marry out, and there’s no shame in taking a son-in-law. Our household lacks for nothing, and that boy was the top scorer in the recent provincial exams. We’ll see how he fares.” Shen Hao could only comfort himself with these thoughts.

“A mere exam champion—what good is that?” Zhou Manyun scoffed.

Shen Hao narrowed his eyes. The Shen family didn’t care about some examination title, but it was precisely this middling status that made the situation manageable—too high, and it would be difficult to handle; too low, and the family would lose face. A provincial champion was just right.

“Yanxi takes after you, after all. A girl too outstanding is always the object of envy,” Shen Hao said truthfully.

“So you blame me?” Zhou Manyun asked, a hint of anger in her voice.

“How could I? My lady is unmatched in beauty—how could I bear to blame you?” Shen Hao quickly changed his tone, smiling obsequiously.

Hmph, at least he knows his place! Had he dared to speak out of turn, she would not have let him off so easily. Watching her husband yield, Zhou Manyun was quite pleased.

“Ah, Manyun, you seem more radiant than ever—your skin as smooth as when you were twenty!” Shen Hao, emboldened, continued his flattery.

Zhou Manyun was speechless. What had gotten into him today? She shot him a bewitching glance.

The maids struggled to hide their smiles. The stern master of the house, so commanding outside, was utterly cowed by his wife at home.

If outsiders saw this, they would never believe that the normally upright Shen Hao was such a man behind closed doors.

Seeing his wife’s cheeks tinged with red, Shen Hao silently rejoiced—he had nearly gone too far in his glee.

“Xin Jun, have everyone withdraw.”

A gentle smile played on Zhou Manyun’s lips; her eyes shimmered with delight.

Hmm? The music is rather pleasant today. Why send everyone away?

Just as Shen Hao set down his teacup and glanced at his wife, he was startled.

…Heavens, he had let his guard down!