Shen Miao's sobs grew louder, yet her words remained sharp and clear as she meticulously recounted every injustice and harsh treatment Ji Brother and Sister Xiang had endured in Uncle Shen’s household over the years: for three years, they hadn’t been given a single new set of clothes; they were ordered around like servants, fetching water and chopping firewood; Ji Brother was pulled out of school; and finally, the two children were driven out with nothing but the clothes on their backs, nearly collapsing from hunger and illness in the ruins of their old home…
Every accusation Shen Miao made was true, and the weight of her grief-stricken words struck deep into Ji Brother and Sister Xiang’s hearts. The three years without their parents and elder sister, the days spent living under their aunt’s disdainful gaze—all of it came flooding back.
Ji Brother clenched his jaw, but silent tears still slipped down his cheeks.
Sister Xiang threw her head back and wailed openly.
Shen Miao released Uncle Shen’s arm and instead pulled the two siblings into an embrace. The pitiful scene stirred the onlookers’ sympathy, and some even spoke up in their defense: "Look at this uncle, dressed in fine clothes and living comfortably, while his own niece and nephew are left in rags! Tsk tsk…"
A neighbor who lived nearby whispered to another, "No wonder I haven’t seen those two children from the Shen family for days—they were thrown out! How cruel!"
Uncle Shen’s face flushed a deep red. Flustered and unable to meet the scornful gazes of the crowd, he hurried forward, trying to usher Shen Miao and the siblings toward the back hall. "Let’s discuss this inside, inside…"
Just then, the half-drawn curtain separating the rear residence from the front shop was abruptly flung open.
"Niece, your words are unfair," came a booming voice. "Every family has its quarrels and misunderstandings—spoons clatter against pots, teeth bite tongues, it’s all perfectly normal! You’re still young, why must you make such a scene?"
The speaker was Aunt Ding, Uncle Shen’s wife—a stout, formidable woman with an apron tied around her waist. Her round face was pale, her sharp phoenix eyes once might have been pretty in her youth, but now, buried under layers of plumpness, they only betrayed shrewdness and a calculating nature.
With just a few words, she dismantled Shen Miao’s emotional appeal and turned the tables:
"Dear niece, you’ve been away in the capital, so you don’t know the full story." She pointed at Ji Brother and Sister Xiang, feigning distress. "These two have grown unruly beyond control! If Ji Brother hadn’t attacked his cousin Hai Ge'er and other classmates at school, why would the teacher expel him? It’s not that we refused to educate him—he was too violent for the school to keep! As an aunt, disciplining a nephew is already a delicate matter—too soft and he runs wild, too harsh and I’m the villain. You’ve never raised children, so you wouldn’t understand the difficulty!"
Aunt Ding was a masterful performer. Tears streamed down her face as she pulled Shen Miao into a suffocating embrace. "Oh, niece, you mustn’t misunderstand your uncle and aunt! We only wanted what was best for Ji Brother! If we didn’t correct his temper now, he wouldn’t just hit people in the future—he’d kill them! But the moment I scolded him, he stormed off and dragged Sister Xiang with him! Your uncle and I searched day and night, barely eating or sleeping—my legs are sore from running around! Who knew they’d holed up in your family’s old, broken-down shop…"
Ji Brother’s face burned with fury. "Aunt, you’re twisting the truth—!"
Shen Miao pressed a hand on his shoulder, silencing him. Her cold gaze locked onto Aunt Ding’s as she wiped her tears and feigned surprise. "So that’s what happened? I had no idea! It seems I’ve wronged you both."
Standing straight, she took the bag of pears from Ji Brother and presented it to Aunt Ding with a respectful bow. "I’ve already visited Ji Brother’s teacher to clarify matters. It turns out Hai Ge'er and the others taunted him for losing his parents, hurling vile insults until he lashed out. Still, violence is never justified, so today, I’ve come to apologize on his behalf. These spring pears are excellent for cooling the body and soothing the throat—perfect for Hai Ge'er. A small token, but I hope you’ll accept it."
Her poised and reasonable speech won nods of approval from the crowd. Some even murmured approvingly:
"The niece knows propriety and respects her elders."
"If cousins can’t support each other in school but instead lead others in hurling abuse, then a beating isn’t undeserved!"
"Second Shen died barely three years ago—to mock orphans fresh out of mourning is to stab at their hearts! If it were me, I’d tear that foul mouth apart!"
"He did right! A filial son indeed!"
Each word struck Uncle Shen and Aunt Ding like a slap, their faces burning with shame. With the schoolteacher’s account invoked, they had no room to argue.
Only Ji Brother, still seething, was baffled by Shen Miao’s claim—how did she know these details? She’d never visited the teacher!
Of course, Shen Miao had guessed.
Two days with Ji Brother had taught her enough—what else could drive such a mature, responsible child to violence?
Only the cruelest taunts about his lost parents.
The pears had been prepared for this very moment. She hadn’t come empty-handed; though the gift was modest, it shielded her from accusations of stirring trouble or disrespect.
Aunt Ding had tried to smear Ji Brother’s reputation—unacceptable for a boy destined for scholarly pursuits.
Arguments, like cooking, required perfect timing.
A fierce opening to seize attention, a simmering middle to lay out facts, and now—the final, emotional crescendo.
Shen Miao’s voice turned sharp as a blade. "Aunt, I agree with much of what you’ve said. Ji Brother was wrong, and I won’t deny it. But one thing I cannot overlook: he’s just a child! If he’s hot-tempered, shouldn’t you guide him patiently instead of punishing him so cruelly? Had I not returned to the capital on a whim, they would have starved to death in Willow East Lane! You claim to have searched everywhere—why not their own home? How far could a child go? A walk of mere minutes took them days!"
Tears welled again as she turned to Uncle Shen. "Uncle, you’re a scholar. ‘Respect the aged as you would your own elders; cherish the young as you would your own children’—how could you forget this? And we aren’t just any ‘children.’ We’re your own flesh and blood! Family ties run deeper than bone. If Ji Brother thrives, won’t Hai Ge'er gain a lifelong ally? You’ve lost sight of what matters!"
"Do you still remember? When Grandfather was alive, Ji Brother and I came to the outer city to pay New Year's respects, and you even carried Ji Brother on your back to set off firecrackers... Our family isn’t some distant, impoverished relative who only shows up to freeload. My father was your own younger brother! My poor father—his chest caved in by the horse of some powerful official, coughing up blood, clinging to his last breath—he fought to stay alive just long enough for his elder brother to see him... With Grandfather and Grandmother gone, weren’t you and Father each other’s only remaining kin? Back then, you promised to take care of Ji Brother and Sister Xiang, and only then did my father close his eyes. Have you forgotten all that?"
The bond of brotherhood cannot withstand such memories. When blinded by self-interest, one may forget, but once reminded, the guilt and sorrow return twofold. Uncle Shen recalled the relieved look in his younger brother’s eyes when he saw him before death, the mouth full of blood, barely managing to whisper, "Elder Brother..." before breathing his last.
He couldn’t help but raise his sleeve to wipe his eyes, letting out a long sigh.
"It’s my fault for failing you..."
With those words, Shen Miao had already won this round.
Her visit here was not just to lay bare the truth and make her stance clear—it was also to cleanse Ji Brother’s reputation. In the Great Song Dynasty, official appointments and imperial examinations placed great emphasis on moral conduct and "reputation." She couldn’t afford to throw a tantrum or disrespect her elders, lest it backfire on her later. After much deliberation, moral blackmail was the only viable strategy.
Her tears gradually dried, and her expression shifted seamlessly. Turning to Aunt Ding, she said, "Aunt is right. We’re family—it’s only natural for teeth to bite the tongue now and then. Now that we’ve cleared the air, let’s go inside and catch up."
She even smiled and bowed slightly to the onlookers. "I’ve been away for so long after marrying far from home, and seeing Uncle and Aunt again overwhelmed me. My apologies for the scene—this is just family business. Please, everyone, go about your day."
Once the crowd dispersed at Shen Miao’s urging, Uncle Shen slumped into a chair, relieved.
Aunt Ding, too, could say little more. With the memory of her deceased brother-in-law invoked, the dead commanded respect, and pressing further would only make her seem petty. Still, she couldn’t help scrutinizing Shen Miao from head to toe, growing increasingly uneasy.
What kind of miracle elixir had this girl taken in Jinling? Not only was her mind sharper now, her words cut like knives, and she could switch expressions as swiftly as flipping a page. Truly, three years apart warranted a fresh appraisal.
With a disdainful snort, Aunt Ding twisted her thick waist—devoid of any discernible curve—and strode into the inner hall ahead of them.
Uncle Shen hesitated for a moment before beckoning Shen Miao. "Come, let’s all sit inside."
"Yes." Shen Miao glanced at Uncle Shen’s still-reddened eyes, then led the reluctant Ji Brother and Sister Xiang—who was sniffling at the memory of their parents—inside.
The rear hall of Uncle Shen’s home was far more spacious than the Shen family’s shop—a proper courtyard house with three main rooms, four side chambers, and two reverse-facing rooms, all nine enclosing a central courtyard. The courtyard was elegantly arranged, with a long polished stone table along the corridor displaying an assortment of potted plants—pines, bamboos, plums, chrysanthemums, and orchids. In the center stood a set of bamboo square tables and chairs, while a well sat in one corner. Shen Miao peeked inside and saw a few small cucumbers chilling in the water. Uncle Shen certainly knew how to live comfortably.
Once seated, Shen Miao pulled Sister Xiang—still trembling from her tears—into her lap, wiping the girl’s face with a handkerchief. Ji Brother, however, refused to sit, standing stiffly behind Shen Miao with a stony expression.
Shen Miao remained silent, and her quietude unnerved Uncle Shen and Aunt Ding. Finally, Aunt Ding crossed her arms and spoke coldly. "Niece, did you come all this way to take these two back to Jinling? If so, take them! I’ve looked after them for three years and gotten nothing but ingratitude. If I discipline them strictly, you’re unhappy. If I’m lenient, you accuse me of neglect."
Shen Miao shook her head. "As the eldest sister, I am like a mother to them. As you said, Aunt, I will take Ji Brother and Sister Xiang with me and raise them myself. But I won’t be returning to Jinling—I’ll stay in Bianjing and reopen my father’s noodle shop."
Aunt Ding frowned, cutting straight to the point. "Did your mother-in-law cast you out?"
Shen Miao was startled. Though her aunt lacked conscience and was sharp-tongued, her instincts were razor-sharp—she had guessed correctly.
When Shen Miao didn’t answer, Aunt Ding curled her lip in disdain. "Back when the Rong Family came with their marriage proposal, I already disliked that Granny Rong. What kind of woman goes on and on about 'my son this, my son that'? He was just a licentiate! She made it sound like he’d pass the provincial exams the next day! And that Rong Dalang—all slicked up like a painted fop. I can’t believe you fancied him! The whole family was dirt-poor too! I couldn’t stand the sight of them, but your parents were bewitched, betting everything on Rong Dalang’s 'bright future.' Well, look how that turned out—throwing their own daughter into a pit of fire. Mark my words, scholars and licentiates are all flash and no substance. Plenty of heartless men hide behind books—what’s the use?"
Uncle Shen coughed in disapproval, but Aunt Ding ignored him, scoffing. "I arranged all four of my daughters’ marriages myself! Second Sister married the son of a silk merchant, Third Sister a military household, Fourth Sister the neighbor’s boy... I’ve always cared about substance and silver. Flowery words mean nothing—a good husband is one who’s honest and hardworking, with a kind family!"
How astute! Shen Miao’s opinion of Aunt Ding shifted slightly. Still, her tongue was as sharp as ever—had this been the original Shen Miao, she’d probably be fuming by now.
"Aunt, I didn’t understand your wisdom before, but now that I’ve suffered, I see the truth in your words." Shen Miao feigned melancholy, successfully dispelling Aunt Ding’s suspicions about her drastic change.
"Why did they dare cast you out? You should’ve written to us. No matter how..." Aunt Ding trailed off, suddenly recalling how she’d treated Ji Brother and Sister Xiang. Her words rang hollow, but she pursed her lips and added, "Your uncle could’ve gone to Jinling to stand up for you!"
Ji Brother rolled his eyes. Aunt was always like this—her words sweeter than songs. Had they actually written, she’d have dragged her feet for months.
Shen Miao smiled. "Thank you for your kindness, Aunt. Truthfully, I’d had enough of that family. With our home in ruins, I decided to return and rebuild our household—at least until Ji Brother comes of age."
At this, the real purpose of her visit became clear. Aunt Ding lifted her eyelids. "So why come here now?"
Getting straight to the point, Shen Miao glanced between Aunt Ding and Uncle Shen. "Now that I’m back, Uncle and Aunt needn’t worry about Ji Brother and Sister Xiang anymore. So, Aunt, shouldn’t you return the deeds to our family’s land and house to Ji Brother?"
