After obtaining Emperor Yuanyou's approval, Shen Mingwen practically floated on air as he returned to his residence.
Indeed, it was a case of "those involved are blinded, while onlookers see clearly"—wouldn’t everything return to how it was before if he simply sent the eldest son’s family away from the capital?
At the Shen residence, Shen Mingwen headed straight for Shen Qinghui’s courtyard. Before he even stepped inside, he overheard voices from within.
"Father, everyone outside is belittling me now. I... I don’t even dare leave the house," Shen Zhikui whined, his face full of grievance. "The capital is unbearable. Why don’t we just leave again?"
"You ungrateful child!" Shen Qinghui glared at him. "In just three years of my absence, your third uncle has nearly taken over the Shen family. If we stay away any longer, there’ll be no place left for our branch!"
A trace of resentment flickered in Shen Qinghui’s eyes.
"Third Uncle has been a wastrel for years, and the Shen family has suffered disgrace because of him. Yet Grandfather never reprimanded him. Surely we can endure this too."
The second son was useless, content to rot away in his little corner of the world.
But Shen Qinghui was the legitimate eldest son. The Shen family’s legacy rightfully belonged to him.
"Kui’er, your father is right," Madam Lin interjected coldly. "The more desperate the situation, the more you must stay by your grandfather’s side and remind him of our suffering. Your third uncle hasn’t even married, let alone produced an heir. In the end, the Shen family will have to rely on you."
"Why hasn’t Third Uncle married?" Shen Zhikui asked, puzzled.
"Because no respectable family would wed their daughter to a dissolute fool."
Listening to the conversation inside, Shen Mingwen’s hands trembled beneath his sleeves.
He had always believed his eldest son’s family to be dutiful and respectful. Yet here they were, scheming behind his back, slandering their own kin, and already dividing the family estate as if he were dead!
The flames of fury roared within him. With a forceful push, Shen Mingwen flung open the courtyard gate.
......
"His Majesty has appointed you as the Prefect of Laijin. You will depart for your post tomorrow."
Shen Mingwen’s voice was icy. He had originally planned to let Shen Qinghui recover his health before sending him away, but after what he’d just heard, he wanted this family gone as soon as possible.
"Father, I’ve only just returned to the capital. Why must I be sent to Laijin?"
The news left Shen Qinghui reeling.
"Who are we, as mere subjects, to question the Emperor’s will?" Shen Mingwen felt a chill seep into his bones. "It’s still a fifth-rank position—no slight to you."
Shen Qinghui’s pupils constricted. Though both were fifth-rank, the prestige of a capital official far outstripped that of a provincial one.
"Father, I wish to stay and fulfill my filial duties. Can’t you petition the Emperor to let me remain?" Shen Qinghui blurted out. "This must be Third Uncle’s doing—whispering lies to the Emperor!"
"Silence!" Shen Mingwen roared. "Look at yourself! Where is the dignity of an elder brother or a loyal subject?"
"Do your duty well in Laijin."
"Father, then... then let Kui’er stay to attend to you. Madam Lin and I will go to Laijin," Shen Qinghui bargained.
But Shen Mingwen remained unmoved. "The Emperor’s decree is clear. You will take your entire household with you."
With that, Shen Mingwen strode away, his heart heavy with exhaustion.
Behind him, Shen Qinghui’s eyes burned with fury as he gripped Madam Lin’s hand.
A discarded pawn.
He, Shen Qinghui, had been cast aside by his own family.
......
The next day, neither Shen Mingwen nor his wife came to see Shen Qinghui off—their hearts too wounded by his betrayal.
After waiting at the city gates for what felt like an eternity, Shen Qinghui caught sight of a lone, aloof figure approaching.
"Here to mock me?"
Shen Qinghui’s voice dripped with venom as he glared at Shen Qingping.
"Indeed."
Shen Qingping’s lips curled into a faint smile, his words striking like a blow.
"I mock your foolishness."
"The entire capital knows I serve under Prince Qin. Thanks to His Highness, no one dares oppose me openly." Shen Qingping let out a derisive laugh. "Yet you, the moment you returned, sought to humiliate me."
"To slight me is to slight Prince Qin and Princess Fu’an."
The simple statement left Shen Qinghui’s head spinning.
"Out of respect for our shared blood, I’ll offer you some advice," Shen Qingping continued, his gaze piercing. "If any other prince approaches you, refuse them outright. Focus on your duties—or no one will be able to save you."
"Safe travels, Elder Brother."
With a smirk, Shen Qingping turned away. A wise bird chooses its perch wisely. With a lord like Prince Qin and a lady like Princess Fu’an, who treated him with such sincerity—
How could he not be willing to go through fire and water for them?
......
After Shen Qinghui’s departure, the capital enjoyed a rare stretch of peace. The Gu Family busied themselves with preparations for a martial contest to choose a son-in-law, while Song Shihuan returned to the women’s academy.
"Why isn’t the Second Princess here today?" Yingchun muttered, scanning the room. "Could it be that maid Mei Xiang from Ping Prince’s Mansion is giving birth?"
Liu’er had sent word days ago that Mei Xiang’s time was near.
Song Shihuan’s eyes flickered at the remark. "Most likely. Send word to Father."
She exhaled softly.
Her brief respite was about to end.
At Ping Prince’s Mansion, the household’s masters had gathered in a remote courtyard, where Mei Xiang’s agonized cries echoed from within.
Chang Ling’er alone wore a resentful scowl; the others brimmed with anticipation.
After an incense stick’s worth of time, the midwife rushed out, drenched in sweat. "Your Highness, Eldest Young Master... the baby’s head is too large. We can’t deliver it safely..."
"We can only save one—the mother or the child..."
As if she’d been waiting for this moment, Shen Hua’er burst into tears. "What are we to do? Save them both! If it’s truly impossible... the imperial bloodline must be preserved at all costs."
"This humble one understands."
The midwife hurried back inside, followed by even more harrowing screams from Mei Xiang.
Gradually, the cries weakened.
Then—a baby’s wail pierced the air.
At the same moment, Mei Xiang breathed her last, a tear still glistening on her cheek.
"Congratulations, Your Highness! Congratulations, Eldest Young Master! A healthy young lord!" The midwife beamed, already envisioning her reward as she cradled the wrinkled newborn.
The crowd pressed forward to admire the swaddled infant. Shen Hua’er studied the child’s features intently, her eyes lighting up when she saw his nose.
"Yanzheng, look—doesn’t this child’s nose resemble Song Shihuan’s?"
"There’s some resemblance, though it’s faint," Song Yanzheng admitted, not yet grasping her implication.
Shen Hua’er smiled. "Yanzheng, go to the palace at once. Tell them Ping Prince’s Mansion has been blessed with a young lord who bears a striking likeness to Empress Yuan."
Did they think only Song Shihuan could resemble the late Empress?
Her grandson could too.
