The smile vanished from Shi Yuanping’s face in an instant. “What happened?”
The servant dropped to his knees, panting heavily, his face as pale as paper. “The marquis’s residence... something has happened at the marquis’s residence! Madam... Madam is demanding a divorce. Grand Madam was so furious that she fell and can’t get up!”
Shi Huai’s heart gave a thud. That old woman had fallen?
Qinghe’s face went white, and her voice trembled. “How is Grand Madam? Have you sent for a physician?”
The servant nodded repeatedly. “Yes, yes, we have. The physician said Grand Madam suffered an attack brought on by extreme anger, and that the fall injured her lower back. She’ll have to remain in bed and rest.”
“But Madam refuses to let the matter go. She insists that the marquis give her an explanation. The whole residence is in chaos!”
Shi Yuanping handed Shi Huai to Qinghe and stood up. His expression gave nothing away.
“What did the marquis say? How is he handling it?”
“The marquis... he...” The servant stammered, too afraid to continue.
“Speak!” Shi Yuanping’s voice rose sharply, making the servant flinch.
“The marquis locked himself in his study and won’t come out. He refuses to see anyone. Madam is making a scene in the main hall, saying that if the marquis doesn’t give her an explanation, she’ll take the two young ladies back to her parents’ home and never return.”
Shi Yuanping let out a cold laugh. “Never return? Would she really give it up? Go back to her parents’ home and drink the northwest wind?”
Qinghe held Shi Huai in her arms, looking at Shi Yuanping helplessly. “Second Master, are you... are you going back?”
Shi Yuanping did not answer. He stood in the courtyard with his back to everyone, silent for a long time.
The wind swept over the river, sending the pale-moon-colored hem of his robe fluttering.
“I’m not going back.”
At last, Shi Yuanping spoke. “Their affairs have nothing to do with me.”
Qinghe froze. “But Grand Madam...”
“My mother has my elder brother to look after her. She doesn’t need me.”
Shi Yuanping turned around. His expression had returned to its usual mildness, but a chill lingered in his eyes.
“If I go back, I’ll only make things worse. My sister-in-law will say that I put her up to all of this, my elder brother will think I’m there to watch him make a fool of himself, and Mother will be caught in the middle. It’s better if I stay away.”
Nestled in Qinghe’s arms, Shi Huai studied the calm, unreadable face of his second uncle. Was this man truly unconcerned, or had he expected this day to come all along?
Madam Liu was demanding a divorce, Grand Madam had been injured, and the marquis had hidden himself away, refusing to see anyone.
It sounded like a sudden turn of events, but when it came to Shi Yuanping, it somehow felt as though everything had been part of a game he had arranged on the chessboard long ago.
Qinghe clearly had not thought that far. She was simply worried about Grand Madam’s injuries.
“Second Master, what about Grand Madam’s injury...?”
“I’ll have someone send some nourishing supplements back, and I’ll find a good physician to examine her.” Shi Yuanping waved his hand, a trace of impatience in his voice.
“That’s enough. Today is the child’s first birthday. Don’t let all that nonsense ruin the mood. Nanny Wang, set out the food and wine. We’ll have a good meal.”
Nanny Wang answered and hurried off to make the arrangements.
Qinghe was still uneasy, but she did not dare say anything more. She carried Shi Huai back to the table.
Shi Huai watched Shi Yuanping’s impenetrable face, and his doubts only deepened.
What exactly was this man after?
The first-birthday celebration passed without much excitement.
Shi Yuanping drank several cups of wine. His cheeks flushed, and he spoke more than usual.
But everything he said was insignificant—how the crops at the estate were doing well, how the plum blossoms had bloomed earlier than last year.
Sitting in Qinghe’s arms, Shi Huai took a bite of the longevity peach. It tasted ordinary, but since it was Qinghe’s heartfelt offering, he made an effort to swallow it.
Life returned to normal—or rather, it appeared to return to normal on the surface.
Shi Yuanping left early and returned late every day, and no one knew what he was busy with.
Nanny Wang took care of Shi Huai’s meals and daily needs, while Qinghe was responsible for playing with him and keeping him company.
The three adults—or rather, the three of them and one child—lived in seclusion at the little estate, cut off from the outside world.
Shi Huai’s looks improved a little each month. By the time he was a year and a half old, the birthmark on his face had shrunk to a single patch on his left cheek, about the size of a copper coin.
His skin had gradually become smooth as well. It was no longer rough and pitted as it had been when he was younger. Instead, it was soft and tender, like a peeled egg.
Every time Qinghe washed his face, she would stare at him for a while before scratching her head and saying, “How strange. You’re getting better-looking every day. Could it be that I’ve simply gotten used to seeing you?”
Nanny Wang would chime in from the side. “Isn’t that the truth? When the young master first arrived, I thought he looked a little... well, a little unusual. But now, the more I look at him, the more pleasing he is to the eye.”
Shi Huai thought to himself, That’s because my looks have gone from zero to eighteen. In another two years, you’ll be calling me handsome.
When he was one year and eight months old, Shi Huai learned to walk.
That day, he clung to the wall and shuffled step by step into the courtyard. Qinghe, who was hanging quilts out to dry, was so startled that she nearly fell off her stool.
“You... you can walk?” Qinghe stared at him wide-eyed, her voice breaking.
Shi Huai stood in the courtyard with both little arms spread wide, wobbling like a duckling that had only just learned to walk.
He flashed Qinghe a grin, revealing eight tiny teeth, then moved his little legs and started toddling toward her.
One step. Two steps. Three steps.
On the fourth step, his legs gave out, and he pitched forward.
Qinghe reacted swiftly, rushing over and scooping him up. She hugged him tightly, still shaken, and patted his back.
“My little ancestor, you nearly scared me to death! What would have happened if you’d fallen?”
Shi Huai rested his head on her shoulder. Falling would have been no big deal. What child learning to walk didn’t take a tumble?
But he knew he couldn’t say that. All he could do was babble, “Ah, ah,” and pat Qinghe’s cheek to show her that he was fine.
Hearing the commotion, Nanny Wang also ran out of the kitchen. When she saw Shi Huai standing on his own, she was both surprised and delighted.
“Oh my, the young master can walk? He’s barely this old! Walking at a year and eight months—what a clever little boy.”
Qinghe proudly lifted Shi Huai into the air. “Of course he is. Our young master is a smart one.”
Once he could walk, Shi Huai’s range of movement expanded considerably.
Every day, he wandered around the courtyard, touching the flowers and brushing the grass. Sometimes he would squat down to watch ants carrying food home, and he could spend half the day doing it.
Qinghe followed behind him like a little shadow, terrified that he might trip or hurt himself.
Whenever Shi Yuanping returned early, he would sit on the stone bench in the courtyard and watch Shi Huai walk. It was impossible to tell whether his expression held satisfaction or something else. He simply watched in silence, without saying a word.
One evening, Shi Yuanping returned particularly early. The sun had not yet set when he stepped through the gate.
Shi Huai was squatting in the corner, watching the ants. When he heard footsteps, he looked up and saw Shi Yuanping walking toward him with a small paper packet in his hand.
“Little fellow, come here.” Shi Yuanping crouched down and beckoned to him.
