Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Ink-Wash Shadow of Rivers and Mountains (2)
The two of them left the study, and he handed her a handful of shelled pine nuts.
“You told your dad?”
Shen Ce tacitly acknowledged that he had.
“He actually agreed to let you be adopted into your eldest uncle’s family?”
“Because he loves your mother. He wants to protect his wife, too, so she won’t be hurt by the rumors.”
This was what Shen Ce admired most about Shen Hanzhong when it came to this matter. In many families, once a couple became parents, they neglected their love for each other and their own place in the relationship, making concessions in everything for the sake of their children. Shen Hanzhong, however, placed his wife and children on equal footing.
That morning, father and son had discussed how to handle the situation in the kitchen. In Shen Hanzhong’s view, the two of them shared no blood ties, and their relationship violated no moral or familial boundaries. There was no reason to oppose it. His first consideration had been, “Baoying isn’t like us. She’s used to staying out of the spotlight. She has to appear in public often, and her divorce back then already dealt her a heavy blow. This time, we need to minimize the impact as much as possible.”
Shen Baoying had remarried into a better family than the one she had married into before, entering the inner circle of the Macau Shen family directly. People had never stopped envying her and gossiping behind her back. If Shen Ce and Zhaozhao married outright and continued living under the same roof as the rest of the family, there would be no end to the nasty things people might say.
So from the very beginning, Shen Hanzhong had insisted that one of them must first sever their family ties.
“The first option was for you to go to your father’s family. My father and I both rejected that.” They both felt that Zhaozhao shouldn’t have to give up the inheritance from the Taizhou Shen family and then give up the Macau Shen family’s inheritance as well.
“Or I could go to my mother’s family. My father rejected that.” The Macau Shen family had few members to begin with. Losing one more would be a considerable loss.
“What you heard today was the most balanced solution, one that can protect you and your mother without harming the family’s interests,” he said. “Our family places great importance on the extended family. My eldest uncle and my father are as close as brothers, with no distinction between them. Besides, I’m not interested in family affairs. If I had been, I would have taken over when I was still in university. My eldest uncle’s work, on the other hand, is closer to my own line of business.”
Zhaozhao could believe that. Shen Ce had told her about his work before, and it really did suit him better.
“My great-grandfather was best at giving away money, so the responsibility for dispensing the family’s wealth has always fallen to the eldest son and eldest grandson. He funded people who opposed Yuan Shikai and the Qing dynasty, supported Dr. Sun Yat-sen, and resisted foreign aggression. No one knows how much money he spent. Giving away thousands of gold pieces to uphold our family is one of the Shen family’s ancestral teachings.”
Going further back, in the thirtieth year of the Guangxu Emperor’s reign, 371 members of the Guangzhou Shen family were beheaded, and the family nearly wiped out. Even then, it had been in order to save their clan. Afterward, the sole surviving branch settled in Macau, and only then did the family become what it was today.
She knew this. Her mother had told her about it and had even joked that the Shen family’s ancestors had earned her considerable goodwill, which had given Uncle Shen quite a few extra points when he pursued her back then.
“My mom loves your dad, too. She told me that after he proposed, she couldn’t sleep. She tried to find a reason to turn him down, only to discover that she couldn’t find a single flaw in Uncle Shen. Not one.”
Shen Ce laughed and led her toward the courtyard. “Unfortunately, in my mother’s eyes, he’s nothing but flaws.”
Shen Ce briefly told her about his parents’ marriage.
When the Shen family had first moved to Macau, the political situation was complicated on all sides, and establishing a foothold had taken considerable effort. Shen Ce’s mother’s family had helped them greatly. Later, during the turbulent years of the last century when organized crime was at its height, they had saved the life of one of Shen Ce’s uncles, placing the Shen family in their debt.
Shen Ce’s mother, Shao Xiaowan, had admired the Shen family’s free-spirited, romantic traditions since childhood. She took a liking to Shen Hanzhong, who had just returned from studying abroad, and actively sought to marry him. The two met several times, found that they got along well, and married.
Afterward, Shao Xiaowan discovered that Shen Hanzhong had none of the romantic flair and free-spiritedness of his Shen ancestors. Instead, he was rigidly conventional, and life with him was dull. Shen Hanzhong, meanwhile, realized that Shao Xiaowan and he were not cut from the same cloth. They agreed to live separately and had originally planned to divorce amicably after their child was born, but Shen Ce’s illness delayed it for several years.
“My father admires strength,” Shen Ce said with a smile. “The first time I met your mother, I knew she was the person my father had been waiting for all these years.”
By the time the two of them met, they were both past forty. Neither intended to have more children, and each had a career of their own. There was only one reason for them to remarry: love. Love that had come late.
Shen Ce had only been talking with her for a little while when someone called him away.
Her mother had already left Macau ahead of her. The Chinese New Year holiday did not affect the global business calendar, so after New Year’s Eve and the first day of the new year, everyone who needed to work was back on the job. With the internet developing rapidly, online gambling licenses had also been introduced. Each country that permitted gambling issued only a fixed number of licenses, every one of them worth a fortune. In recent years, securing these licenses had been the main focus of her mother’s work, so she was naturally busy.
Uncle Shen’s intention was to wait until her mother returned, then have the two of them discuss the matter face-to-face. Discussing something important in person was a way of showing respect for one’s elders.
“What if your eldest uncle objects afterward?”
He smiled. “I’m seriously ill. What woman would be willing to marry me? You’re the only one who, out of consideration for the bond we shared as siblings in the past, has taken such meticulous care of me. Over time, affection grew into love, and I fell so deeply for you that I refuse to marry anyone else. Emotionally and logically, it all makes sense.”
And if Zhaozhao was willing to marry someone like Shen Ce, the entire Shen family would be grateful to her.
Even if he couldn’t escape this ordeal, with Shen Hanzhong and the Shen family behind her, he could rest easy. They were all upright people.
Sometimes he wondered if the reason he had returned here in this life, after all his previous incarnations had ended badly, was that this branch of the family descended from generations of loyal and righteous people. Perhaps their accumulated good deeds had made it possible for him to remain here.
***
The eldest uncle managed the household and was supposed to be the quiet, steady one, while Uncle Shen handled external affairs and was supposed to be the more forceful one.
Yet Uncle Shen was the slow and easygoing type, while the eldest uncle was impatient. As soon as they agreed to hand the matter over to Shen Ce, he couldn’t even wait until the fifth day of the New Year.
At dinner, the various branches of the family gathered in the dining room on the first floor.
Shen Yan belonged to the third branch, so during the day, he had to stay with his own side of the family. Liang Jinshan had taken her child back to the Liang family home. The couple returned before dinner, and by the time they arrived, the meal was about to begin. They exchanged a few hurried words with Zhaozhao before everyone took their seats.
Zhaozhao rested her chin in her hand beside Uncle Shen, waiting for Shen Ce.
At this table, there were only her, her stepfather, and Shen Zheng, the eldest uncle’s son, who was roughly the same age as Shen Hanzhong and already nearing fifty. Because he was there, this was the only table serving a vegetarian meal.
“When Shen Ce was born, this older cousin’s master was the one who suggested taking him to Putuo,” Uncle Shen said.
Zhaozhao exchanged a glance with Shen Zheng. She really couldn’t bring herself to think of someone older than her own father as an older brother, so she took the initiative to make conversation and show some goodwill.
“If you’re a Buddhist and abstain from meat, does it bother you to see people at the neighboring tables eating it?”
Shen Zheng smiled. “Religious beliefs are meant to govern oneself.” Seeing that Zhaozhao was interested, he continued, “Take the Eighteen Levels of Hell, for example. They originate from the Sutra of the Eighteen Narakas. Naraka is the Sanskrit word for hell. There are eight fiery narakas and ten icy ones. Murder, theft, doing evil, jealousy, anger, and taking pleasure in slandering others are all offenses punished in hell, through things like boiling in fire or being burned and branded in iron furnaces. If someone doesn’t believe in Buddhism or in the existence of hell, naturally, they won’t restrain themselves. It’s the believers who feel reverence and awe, who try to control themselves and make as few mistakes as possible.”
Put that way, it did make sense.
Shen Zheng turned his head. “Shen Yan.”
Shen Yan came over with a smile. “Eldest Uncle.”
“Ask Shen Yan whether he’s allowed to lie. His beliefs are different from mine. He has to go to church.”
Shen Yan shook his head immediately. “We’re not allowed to lie.” Then he looked at his eldest uncle in delighted surprise. “Have you finally realized that the god you believe in is a false god? Have you seen the light?”
Shen Zheng only smiled, regarding Shen Yan with a benevolent, affectionate look, as though patiently waiting for him to attain enlightenment and take refuge in the Buddha.
...
Zhaozhao couldn’t help laughing at the two of them.
Beside her, a chair was pulled out.
Shen Ce, who had arrived with the eldest uncle, took the seat next to her. “What are you laughing at?”
Zhaozhao looked up, startled by how formally he was dressed. Shen Ce liked wearing casual suits, often pairing them with all kinds of shirts, but he had never dressed like this before. “Old-fashioned.”
A smile played at the corners of Shen Ce’s mouth. He nodded. “Indeed.” It was the tradition of the head of the household. There was nothing he could do about it.
Someone brought over silver-stemmed cups modeled after ancient parrot cups. A touch of red marked each spiral-shaped tip, and they were set on the table.
They were a matching set. Shen Ce had liked them as a child and had commissioned them to be made for drinking Tusu wine at the New Year.
They should have drunk it on New Year’s Eve to ward off evil, but they had missed the occasion, so they were making up for it tonight. One reason was that she liked auspicious customs, and the other was that today was a happy day, with everything going smoothly. The wine had to be drunk starting with the younger generation. Some children who had never touched alcohol merely licked it with their tongues for the sake of the ritual, while others just dipped the tips of their chopsticks into it. The adults teased the children, and laughter rang out without pause.
By the time it reached their table, Zhaozhao was the youngest person there. She brought the cup to her nose and sniffed.
“What are you afraid of? Drink it all. You have a great tolerance for alcohol.” His words carried a double meaning, alluding to the time she had overestimated herself and gotten drunk.
“Hey! ‘Do not urge me to drink from a parrot cup,’” she retorted stubbornly. “The ancients said that.”
“Is that so?” He watched her with a smile. “But the ancients also said that one must drain three hundred cups in a single day. Drink as much as you like. There’s plenty of wine.”
“...”
She conceded defeat, tipped her head back, and prepared to drain the cup.
He reached out first and pressed down on her cup, conceding defeat as well. “Just one sip, for good luck.”
This was the first time Shen Hanzhong had seen them bicker, and the first time he had seen his son interact with a girl. It was a novel sight to him.
After dinner.
Shen Ce led her away from the main building and deeper into the courtyard, where another building stood, two stories tall.
“My great-grandfather wasn’t surnamed Shen. His surname was Fu, and he married into the Shen family.” He led Zhaozhao inside on the first floor. The wooden flooring showed its age. This annex had begun construction when the Shen family moved here, sixty years ago. “The Fu family was responsible for the execution of the entire Shen family, so he always carried guilt in his heart. He had the Shen family ancestral hall rebuilt, and he built this place as well.”
From today onward, this place would be passed down to Shen Ce.
“The genealogy of your Grandpa Shen’s branch only goes back twenty-six generations. It doesn’t end there.” He pushed open the two unlocked doors. “The first floor houses collections related to the Shen family. There are books upstairs, too.”
At the center of the private collection hall stood a sealed glass display case. The lights in the room were dim, while the lamps beside the case cast a pale, bluish-white glow over the two weapons inside.
Zhaozhao had never paid much attention to weapons. Whenever she had visited a weapons exhibition in the past, she had merely glanced around before moving on.
But these two swords in the display case...
It was as though her heart had been seized. The other display cases, large and small, faded from view. Only this one remained. She stepped closer. “These are... two swords?”
Both had narrow blades. In her understanding, swords were always long and slender, while knives were broad.
“One sword and one saber,” he said from behind her. “The one with a scabbard is an eight-faceted bronze Han sword. The one without a scabbard... is a gilt tiger-headed ring-pommel saber. Its blade is long and narrow, the same width as the sword, but sharpened along one side.”
“Why doesn’t the saber have a scabbard?”
“The scabbard was made of wood. It burned up.”
“Why was it burned?”
“Who knows?” He said casually, lying to her.
“Did both of these belong to the same person?” She made the guess because they were displayed in the same case.
“Yes. The eight-faceted bronze Han sword was an imperial gift bestowed when he was made a prince. It was used for ceremonial purposes. The saber was carried at his side and used to kill enemies.”
“So this person could use both swords and sabers?”
“And spears. He was skilled with three kinds of weapons. The years have taken their toll, and the pure-gold spear can no longer be found.”
Standing before the glass case, she gazed at the weapons without blinking. “Did they have names of their own?”
“The sword was bestowed by the emperor, so it was named after his princely title: Jianglin.”
“Prince Jianglin?” She furrowed her brows, searching her memory. “Was there a place called Jianglin?” She seemed to remember that in ancient times, princes were often given titles based on their fiefs.
“He was stationed at an important strategic stronghold, and the emperor didn’t want to grant him a fief. So the name was taken from the meaning of ‘by the river.’”
“The emperor was stingy.” She was indignant. The man had been made a prince, yet the emperor still refused to acknowledge a fief for him. “What about the saber?”
From the way Shen Ce described them, the sword seemed to be a symbol of status, while the saber appeared to be more important.
He gazed at the blade, and the blade gazed back at him.
Zhaozhao’s intuition had been right. The sword stood for steadiness, while the saber demanded ruthlessness. The latter was more to his liking.
That saber was narrower and longer than an ordinary ring-pommel saber, even longer than the sword. It was a weapon unique to him. A gilt tiger’s head adorned the ring-shaped pommel, and gold wire wound around the handle. Two characters had been carved into the scabbard that had burned away: 昭也 (Zhao Ye).
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