Uncle Shen’s home was located at the border between the outer and inner city of Bianjing. Taking the "long carriage" that shuttled between the inner and outer city would take roughly two quarters of an hour—not too far by any means.
Since the imperial palace was situated slightly to the north, Bianjing had developed a saying: "Nobility resides in the north, commoners in the south." However, as the city grew increasingly crowded and land prices soared, many wealthy merchants had begun building grand residences in the southern outer city and moving there.
Uncle Shen was no exception. Like Father Shen, he owned a shop with living quarters in the inner city, but his outer-city residence was far more spacious—a two-courtyard compound with nine rooms in total.
Moreover, Uncle Shen also owned fifty acres of farmland in the countryside. His move to the outer city was partly for convenience—to collect rent from his rural tenants and purchase grain from other regions, as he ran a grain shop.
Since she was going out, Shen Miao took a moment to dress up. She changed into a pale apricot-colored narrow-sleeved jacket embroidered with plum blossoms, paired with a blue-green ruqun skirt. The fabric was ordinary cotton, and the outfit had been made the year her original self married into the Rong family in Jinling. But since the original Shen Miao had shouldered all household chores, she mostly wore short work shirts, leaving this set nearly untouched and thus still looking new.
From her trunk, she retrieved the last remaining silver hairpin—a delicate piece carved with plum branches—to fasten her hair. She then wrapped a pale apricot headscarf around her bun. Beyond this, she wore no other adornments.
When she stepped out in her new attire, Shen Ji silently stared at her for a long while. Shen Miao asked what he was looking at, but he only shook his head and smiled. "Elder Sister is beautiful. Father used to boast to the neighbors that you were the prettiest young lady within ten miles. It made all the uncles and aunts with daughters roll their eyes, but they couldn’t argue."
Shen Miao didn’t feign modesty. Instead, she curled her lips smugly. "Of course!"
The original Shen Miao truly was lovely—not the kind of striking beauty that dazzled at first glance, but rather the soft, delicate charm reminiscent of a gentle rain in a southern alley. Her crescent-shaped eyes held a quiet grace, like peach branches budding in spring, so refreshing they seemed to lift the spirit.
Hearing this, Sister Xiang also looked up at Shen Miao.
Shen Miao took the little girl’s hand and smiled down at her. "Our Sister Xiang is just as pretty! One day, you’ll be even more beautiful than your elder sister!"
Sister Xiang immediately puffed out her chest, mimicking Shen Miao’s earlier confidence. "Of course!"
Shen Ji trailed behind, watching his elder sister and younger sibling playfully compete in their loveliness. He couldn’t help but chuckle, but his smile faded when his gaze landed on the lone silver hairpin in Shen Miao’s bun.
That hairpin had been part of their mother’s dowry gift to Shen Miao—a full bridal set that, if he recalled correctly, should have included: a top hairpin, a pair of side hairpins, a pair of long hairpins, a centerpiece ornament, a divider, a pair of temple ornaments, a pair of earrings, a pair of bracelets, a pair of rings, as well as floral hairpins and smaller decorative pins.
Yet now, only a single hairpin remained.
For the past three years, he had resented his elder sister.
But upon reflection, perhaps she hadn’t had an easy time either. Otherwise, she would never have abandoned him and Sister Xiang. The original Shen Miao had been so gentle and kind—if she had changed so drastically, it must have been because the Rong family had treated her cruelly.
At first, Shen Ji had found the returned Shen Miao unfamiliar. Though her face was the same, her personality had transformed—she was now bold, resilient, and unbothered by trivialities, with none of the hesitation or timidity she once carried in her eyes.
But now, he understood. His elder sister must have suffered greatly.
Unconsciously, Shen Ji clenched his fists. Only when Shen Miao turned and called out to him did he snap out of it. "Ji, why are you lagging behind? Hurry up, or we’ll miss the long carriage and have to walk!"
"Coming!" Shen Ji relaxed his hands and quickened his pace to catch up. Silently, he vowed: Starting tomorrow, he would work harder to help his elder sister. Whether or not he could continue his studies, he would find ways to earn money. One day, he would buy her a new bridal set—the finest and most beautiful one from the goldsmith’s shop!
It was late spring, and the afternoon sun cast a gentle warmth as Shen Miao walked hand-in-hand with her siblings. They soon reached the livestock market, where three or four "long carriages"—covered wagons pulled by horses or oxen—were parked. These were shared rides, seating six to ten passengers, with fares of two coppers for adults and one for children.
Essentially, they were the ancient equivalent of a bus—just a bit pricey, considering the purchasing power of a single copper far exceeded that of a modern dollar.
While waiting, Shen Miao spotted a child selling pears by the roadside and bought a bagful for three coppers, receiving over a dozen plump, greenish fruits in return.
Shen Ji shot her a puzzled look. Truthfully, he had been tense the entire way, worried about how Aunt Shen’s sharp tongue might make things difficult for his elder sister.
Yet here was Shen Miao, seemingly ready for a confrontation, casually buying pears as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
Shen Miao didn’t explain, merely smiling to herself.
Arguing—rolling on the ground like a shrew—might win the battle but at the cost of one’s dignity. But if she could seize the moral high ground and sway public opinion, the outcome would be entirely different.
Once aboard the carriage, the bustling inner city gradually gave way to the outer districts. The area immediately outside the inner walls was lined with sprawling mansions, their gates flanked by well-dressed servants lounging idly, picking their teeth and chatting. The moment common folk wandered too close, these retainers would bark at them to scram.
The wheels rumbled onward, crossing two moats before reaching a livelier stretch—a dense residential quarter near Jinliang Bridge, packed with restaurants, inns, and shops. Compared to the inner city, the buildings here were newer and larger. This was where Uncle Shen lived.
Shen Miao led Shen Ji and Sister Xiang off the carriage and navigated the streets from memory. Soon, the banner of "Shen’s Grain Shop" came into view amid the market bustle.
From a distance, Shen Ji spotted the shop’s sign—one side embroidered with a large "Rice," the other with "Shen’s"—and his expression darkened, his shoulders tensing.
Shen Miao patted his hand reassuringly before striding inside.
The shop’s interior revealed a high counter, behind which a rotund man in his forties lounged on a rattan rocking chair. Dressed in fine silk, he swayed leisurely, engrossed in a book. Every so often, he licked his fingertip before turning a page with deliberate slowness.
Shen Miao took a deep breath, handed the pears to Shen Ji, and then—
"Uncle Shen!" she wailed, her voice sharp with anguish.
The sudden outburst was like a thunderclap out of nowhere, startling even Shen Ji and Sister Xiang, who instinctively turned to look at her. As for Uncle Shen, who had been fully immersed in his book? The leisurely man was jolted so hard his entire body trembled, the "sage's scripture" flying from his hands. He scrambled to grab it but only succeeded in knocking over his reclining chair, landing flat on his back with a loud thud.
"Ouch, ouch—my backside…"
Shen Ji took a deep breath and held it in, suppressing a laugh.
Shen Miao, meanwhile, bit her lip hard to maintain her pitiful expression. Sister Xiang, however, couldn’t hold back—seeing Uncle Shen in such a ridiculous state, she burst into laughter.
"Who dares—?!" Uncle Shen roared, clambering up from the floor, ready to slam the counter in fury. But the moment he saw Shen Miao, he froze. "Niece? What are you doing back here?"
Shen Miao had already rushed forward, flipping open the small counter gate and seizing Uncle Shen’s plump, silk-clad arm with both hands. She wailed, "Uncle! Your niece has suffered so much—you have no idea! I nearly died! I can’t believe I’ve lived to see my family again—!"
Uncle Shen winced in pain, but no matter how he struggled, he couldn’t shake her off. The commotion had already drawn the attention of neighbors and passersby, who now crowded outside the grain shop, peering in curiously.
Uncle Shen’s heart pounded under Shen Miao’s relentless sobbing. He could only shout helplessly, "Woman—my damned woman, come out here—!"
Shen Miao wiped her snot and tears on Uncle Shen’s sleeve, then smirked coldly.
Uncle Shen’s full name was Shen Gaodou. Though he was a merchant now, he had spent years in private school as a boy, sent there by the Shen family patriarch. Unfortunately, despite his father’s grand aspirations reflected in his name ("Gaodou" implying lofty ambitions), Uncle Shen had studied for decades without ever passing the imperial exams to become a scholar.
Now, though he was just a grain merchant who occasionally spouted literary phrases, he still fancied himself a man of culture, indulging in pretentious refinement. He carried around classics like The Doctrine of the Mean, Mencius, and The Book of Rites, posing as a profound scholar unjustly overlooked by fate.
But because of this background, Shen Miao—drawing from the original owner’s memories of Uncle Shen—had long figured out how to deal with people like him: mediocre yet convinced of their own brilliance.
Ancient scholars often repeated the saying, "A scholar may be killed but not humiliated." They cared deeply about reputation and face—public disgrace was worse than death to them.
So Shen Miao cried even louder, her voice ringing out as she accused, "Uncle, you are my only living kin! Blood runs thicker than water! My parents died tragically, and now there’s no justice for them—fine, so be it! But I entrusted my young siblings to you when I married far away to Jinling, and I left our family’s shops in your care. Why did you throw them out onto the streets, leaving them to starve and freeze to death?!"
In ancient times, clans lived together, bound by blood and mutual obligation. With both parents gone, it was Uncle Shen’s duty to care for his brother’s orphaned children—especially since the Shen family only had two brothers: Uncle Shen and Father Shen. If Uncle Shen abandoned his own kin, society would condemn him ruthlessly, shaming him to his core.
Shen Miao hadn’t chosen to sue Uncle Shen in court for two reasons. First, as a junior accusing an elder, it would be like a wife divorcing her husband—a case of "the lowly challenging the noble." She’d have to endure thirty lashes before the court would even hear her plea. Second, Uncle Shen’s neglect was a moral failing, not a legal crime, and officials couldn’t be bothered with such domestic squabbles…
Damn this wretched world!
So Shen Miao had no choice but to expose Uncle Shen’s selfishness right to his face—and secure some benefits for herself, Shen Ji, and Sister Xiang in the process!
