“What did you say? Say that again.”
Shi Yuanzhi’s face turned livid as those words struck him.
His lips trembled several times, yet he could not force out a single word.
Shi Huai was nothing if not a most filial son.
Naturally, he would obey his father and repeat himself properly.
“You... you unfilial son!”
Shi Yuanzhi was so furious that even his voice trembled, as did his pointing finger.
“I raised you for twelve years, and this is how you speak to me?”
Shi Huai picked up the book bag at his feet and slung it over his shoulder, moving as casually as if he were doing something utterly insignificant.
“Raised me? When you say ‘raised,’ do you mean leaving me in a side courtyard and having a twelve-year-old maid feed me? Or paying me a monthly allowance no better than that of the lowest servant?”
His voice was not loud, but every word was like a honey-coated knife, soft and sweet as it pierced the tenderest part of Shi Yuanzhi’s heart.
“Or are you referring to that bowl of arsenic-laced lotus seed soup that nearly killed me?”
“Oh, right. In the end, when you investigated the matter, you beat a little maid to death as a scapegoat and closed the case.”
Shi Yuanzhi’s face went from livid to pale, then from pale to ashen.
The veins at his temples throbbed violently.
He looked like a cat with its tail stepped on—fur standing on end, yet with no idea where to pounce.
Shi Yuanzhi opened his mouth, wanting to argue, but the words seemed to be lodged in his throat. No matter how hard he tried, he could not force them out.
Because he had realized that every word Shi Huai spoke was the truth.
They were the very facts he had tried to forget, conceal, and pretend had never existed.
He had abandoned a newborn infant on a wooden bed in a side courtyard, leaving a twelve-year-old maid to feed him, while paying him the monthly allowance of the lowest servant.
And he had done all of it with a clear conscience, without even blinking.
“Can’t Father say it? Then allow me to say it for you.”
Shi Huai took half a step forward, shortening the distance between them.
His voice remained calm, like a leisurely stream flowing without hurry. Yet every sentence was like a pebble beneath the water, grinding painfully against one’s feet.
“When Father brought me back from that village, it wasn’t because you wanted me as your son. You did it because you were afraid the matter would be brought before the authorities. You were afraid outsiders would say the Marquis of Yongning’s household had abandoned its own child after taking advantage of his mother. You were afraid it would damage your career and reputation.”
“I was a chess piece—a piece you used to silence Grandmother, silence outsiders, and silence your own guilty conscience.”
“And of course, the person moving the pieces has no concern for whether one of them lives or dies.”
Shi Yuanzhi’s hand suddenly flew upward.
His palm hung in midair, facing downward, directly above Shi Huai’s maddeningly tranquil face.
His hand trembled. His fingers opened and closed, then closed and opened again, as though he were struggling with an agonizing decision.
Shi Huai did not move. He simply stood there, tilting his head back to look at the hand suspended above him. The corners of his lips even lifted slightly.
His smile was as faint as the thin mist of early morning, yet it made Shi Yuanzhi feel more humiliated than any mocking expression could have.
“Are you going to hit me, Father? Then go ahead. And what happens afterward? Will you find some woodshed in the side courtyard and lock me up? Or will you simply throw me out of the marquis’s residence?”
Shi Yuanzhi’s hand froze in midair.
He could neither strike nor lower it. His entire body seemed like a house whose foundation had been hollowed out, swaying on the verge of collapse.
His eyes reddened, his lips turned white, and a rasping sound came from his throat.
At that moment, the study door was suddenly shoved open from outside.
The door slammed against the wall with a dull thud, startling several sparrows outside the window into flapping away.
Madam Liu stood in the doorway.
The dark purple sheen of her beizi robe glimmered dully in the candlelight.
Her face wore a perfectly measured blend of shock, heartache, and disbelief.
“My lord! What are you doing?”
Madam Liu hurried inside and seized Shi Yuanzhi’s raised hand, forcing it down.
Then she turned to Shi Huai. Her eyes were red, and her voice trembled with carefully restrained emotion.
“Huai’er, no matter how wrong your father may be, he is still your biological father. Are those truly things a son should say?”
“Filial piety is the foundation upon which our Great Yan dynasty was built. You have read so many books by the sages—could it be that you still don’t understand such a simple principle?”
Shi Huai looked at Madam Liu’s face, which practically proclaimed, “I’m only here to play the peacemaker,” and the corners of his lips lifted slightly.
The smile on his face was even more inscrutable than the one he had given Shi Yuanzhi moments earlier. It was the smile of someone who had seen through a rather clumsy performance but could not be bothered to expose it.
“What a timely arrival, Madam. You always seem to arrive at just the right moment.”
Shi Huai’s words struck the place Madam Liu least wanted touched.
Her expression shifted slightly, but she quickly resumed her look of heartbroken indignation.
“What are you talking about? I heard the commotion and hurried over because I was afraid something might happen between you and your father. And now you’re mocking me?”
“Hurrying over? Your courtyard is on the other side of half the marquis’s residence from the main courtyard. It would take at least the time it takes to finish a cup of tea to get from Qingzhi Courtyard to the study.”
Shi Huai glanced down at the book bag by his feet, then raised his head to look at Madam Liu’s face, which was nearly unable to maintain its composure.
“It has only been a dozen or so breaths since Father raised his hand, yet you ‘hurried’ here. You’re faster than the swiftest page in the entire household.”
Madam Liu could no longer keep up the act. The mask of heartbroken indignation seemed to have been torn open down the middle, revealing the terrifyingly gloomy face beneath.
Her fingers clenched inside her sleeves with audible snaps. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her gaze stabbed at Shi Huai like poison.
Shi Yuanzhi stood to one side, and Shi Huai’s words brought several things to his attention.
He turned to Madam Liu, a trace of scrutiny and suspicion in his eyes, as though he were taking a fresh look at the woman with whom he had shared a bed for decades.
“Madam, you...”
“My lord, you don’t actually believe his nonsense, do you?”
Madam Liu’s voice abruptly rose, carrying the indignation and grievance of someone who had been falsely accused.
Her eyes reddened, tears glistening in them.
She looked like a delicate flower battered by wind and rain—utterly pitiful.
“What’s wrong with me rushing over when I heard the commotion? Would it have been better if I had ignored it?”
“My lord, speak honestly—after all these years of marriage, have I ever had a single day when I wasn’t working for this family?”
Her words softened Shi Yuanzhi’s heart once more.
The suspicion in his eyes faded somewhat, replaced by an exhaustion too complicated to name.
Shi Yuanzhi reached up and rubbed his temples. With a hoarse sigh, he said, “Enough, enough. Stop arguing. My head hurts.”
Shi Huai watched the scene unfold and pressed his lips together slightly.
The greatest flaw in Shi Yuanzhi’s life was not weakness or incompetence. It was that he could never tell who was speaking the truth and who was putting on an act.
Every time Madam Liu cried and made a fuss, his heart softened.
And every time his heart softened, he cast all his earlier suspicions and wariness straight into the heavens.
“If Father has nothing else, I’ll be going back.”
Shi Huai bent down, picked up the book bag at his feet, and slung it over his shoulder before turning toward the door.
After taking two steps, he stopped and looked at Madam Liu.
“Madam, I wonder if you might—”
“When you have the time, Father, you might look into whom Madam exchanged letters with, whom she met, and what she said before the three ladies came to visit today.”
