Shi Yuanping smiled, a hint of cunning in his expression.
He reached beneath the stone bench and took out a small flowerpot. A tiny orchid grew in it, its leaves a rich green and its buds a tender yellow.
“Here. It’s for you.”
Shi Huai took the flowerpot and examined it from every angle before looking up. “Second Uncle, did you call me here just to give me a flower?”
Shi Yuanping picked up the teapot and poured him a cup, then filled one for himself. He took a leisurely sip. “Of course not. I called you here because there’s something I need to tell you.”
Qinghe and Nanny Wang tactfully withdrew, leaving only Shi Huai and Shi Yuanping in the courtyard.
“What is it?” Shi Huai held the flowerpot in his arms and stared unblinkingly at Shi Yuanping.
“Put the flowerpot down first. Don’t drop it.”
Shi Yuanping pointed to the stone table beside them. “Set it there and listen to me.”
Shi Huai placed the flowerpot on the table, then turned around and braced both hands against the stone bench. His short legs swung back and forth as he waited attentively.
Shi Yuanping lifted his teacup and took another sip, as though carefully choosing his words. Only after a long silence did he finally speak.
“Do you remember the story I told you about the man by the Huai River?”
Shi Huai nodded. “The story about that heartless man.”
“That wasn’t a story.” Shi Yuanping lowered his teacup and gazed at the several stalks of emerald bamboo in the distance, his eyes unfocused.
“It really happened. That heartless man was your grandfather—the old marquis of the Marquis’s Household of Yongning.”
Shi Huai’s hand went still. His expression remained childlike, but inside, a storm was already raging.
“And that first wife was your true grandmother.”
Shi Yuanping’s voice was very soft, as if he were afraid of disturbing something.
“After she was abandoned, she didn’t return to her maiden family. Instead, she wandered to a small village by the Huai River, where she gave birth to your father.”
Shi Huai parted his lips, wanting to say something, but he had no idea what. All he could do was continue listening.
“Your father wasn’t Shi Yuanzhi. He was me.”
Shi Yuanping turned to look into Shi Huai’s eyes. Those eyes, usually so gentle, now seethed with an emotion bordering on madness.
“You are my son. My own flesh and blood.”
The words exploded beside Shi Huai’s ears like a thunderclap, leaving his mind utterly blank.
He stood there with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide, staring at Shi Yuanping’s thin face and the turbulent emotions in his eyes. Not a single word would come out.
“That year, I found her by the Huai River. I found your grandmother.”
Shi Yuanping’s voice trembled, though his tone remained steady.
“She was gravely ill, lying on a bed, so emaciated that she was little more than skin and bones.”
“She took my hand and told me what had happened all those years ago. She told me how the old marquis had abandoned her and how she had given birth to me alone in that village.”
“She said she had spent her entire life hating him—hating the old marquis, hating the Marquis’s Household, hating this unjust world.”
Shi Huai felt as though he were listening to some bizarre tale, yet every person in that tale was connected to him.
“Before she died, she asked me to do one thing.”
At last, Shi Yuanping’s tears began to fall, sliding silently down his cheeks.
“She begged me to bring my bloodline back into the Marquis’s Household and reclaim everything that should have belonged to me.”
“So you set this whole plan in motion?” Shi Huai’s voice was so faint it could barely be heard.
“You arranged for me to be born, arranged for me to be brought here, arranged everything?”
Shi Yuanping nodded. He wiped away his tears with his sleeve, his voice hoarse beyond recognition.
“Yes. I arranged all of it.”
Shi Huai’s mind was a tangled mess. He wanted to speak, but his mouth seemed no longer his own. Only after a long while was he able to force out a single question.
“Did Grand Madam know?”
Shi Yuanping closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “She knew. She had known from the very beginning.”
“When she came to the side courtyard to save you that day, it wasn’t a coincidence. She had planned it all. She knew Madam Liu couldn’t tolerate you, and she knew my elder brother couldn’t protect you, so she personally stepped in and brought you to Shou’an Hall.”
“Before she died, she told you that she owed you. She wasn’t merely being polite. She owed your grandmother. She owed our branch. She could never repay that debt in a lifetime.”
Shi Huai remembered the things Grand Madam had said before her death. He remembered the tears and guilt that had churned in her murky old eyes. At last, he understood everything.
“So the reason you never married all these years wasn’t because you wanted a quiet life. It was because there was already someone in your heart?”
Shi Huai’s voice trembled slightly.
Shi Yuanping opened his eyes and looked at him. A bitter smile touched his lips.
“Yes. There has always been someone in my heart. That person was your mother.”
Shi Huai was completely stunned.
“She wasn’t a village girl. She was my childhood sweetheart, the woman I loved.” Shi Yuanping’s voice was very soft, as if he were recounting a secret buried away for many years.
“We grew up together and promised to spend our whole lives with each other. But for the sake of this plan, I personally sent her to my elder brother’s bed.”
“She knew everything, and she was willing to help me. But after the child was born, she saw your face—saw the blue birthmarks covering it—and broke down.”
“She thought it was Heaven’s punishment. She thought the child was an omen of disaster. That was why she tried to strangle you.”
Shi Huai listened to him, unable to put into words what he felt.
“What happened to her afterward?” His voice was hoarse.
“She left,” Shi Yuanping said softly.
“After you were taken away, she left. I don’t know where she went. I’ve spent all these years searching for her, but I’ve never found her.”
Shi Huai lowered his head and looked at his hands resting on his knees. They were small, pale, clean, and unblemished.
“Why are you telling me all this?” Shi Huai raised his head and looked at Shi Yuanping’s reddened eyes.
“You could have kept it from me. You could have hidden it from me for the rest of my life.”
“Because you’ve grown up.” Shi Yuanping reached out and stroked Shi Huai’s head, his hand trembling. “You have the right to know who you are.”
“And besides, I need you to help me make the final move in this game of chess.”
Shi Huai looked up into his eyes. “The final move? What final move?”
“Take back the Marquis’s Household.”
Shi Yuanping’s voice was quiet, but every word struck Shi Huai’s ears like a nail.
“This Marquis’s Household belonged to your grandmother in the first place. The old marquis rose to power using her dowry. That was how the Marquis’s Household of Yongning came into being.”
“But after the old marquis gained status and wealth, he looked down on her for having been born a village girl. He married a woman from a prestigious family and drove your grandmother out.”
“The woman who is now Grand Madam—the one you call Grandmother—was the old marquis’s second wife.”
“She is a good person, but she isn’t your true grandmother. Your true grandmother was the woman abandoned by the Huai River.”
“So you want me to take the Marquis’s Household back?” Shi Huai’s voice was unnaturally calm for a seven-year-old child.
“Yes.” Shi Yuanping nodded.
“You carry the Shi family bloodline. You have as much right as anyone to inherit this marquisate. Your grandmother was the true mistress of the household, after all.”
