Volume 1 Chapter 11 Picking a Quarrel

"Is the Third Young Lady in?"

A kind-sounding voice of an elderly woman echoed from outside the courtyard. It was yet another matron from Madame Meng's side, here once again to summon Shen Rong to the Madame's quarters.

"Good morning, Matron Gui. Ever since my young lady returned from Jing'an Temple, she has been suffering from a cold and has yet to recover. As you can see, she hasn't even risen for the day. If the First Madame has such an urgent matter that she has sent for her several times, I would ask that she deign to pay us a visit herself, as my young lady is quite frail." Manhe retorted, her tone neither light nor heavy.

Matron Gui’s eyes flickered, and she smiled, "It seems I have come too early. My mistress has already finished her morning meal, so I assumed the Third Young Lady would be up. My fault, truly my fault." Her face filled with feigned concern, "Has a physician been called to see her?"

"I went out of the estate this morning to fetch a doctor myself. He said she requires good medicine and a long period of quiet recuperation."

"What a pity," Matron Gui said with a look of feigned benevolence. "If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask the First Madame."

Manhe did not respond, offering only a silent, polite smile.

Having hit another soft wall, Matron Gui mentally noted every word Manhe had said, intending to report it all to the First Madame.

Unbothered by the back-and-forth in the courtyard, Shen Rong sat in her inner chamber, taking a comfortable sip of tea before asking Lianxiang, "Did you have the physician check on that stable hand this morning?"

Lianxiang was momentarily stunned by the sudden inquiry regarding the trivial stable hand. "Sister Manhe took him to be examined. She said the stable hand has a very strong constitution. Although the wounds on his chest looked severe, they were only superficial and did not damage his muscles or bones. He should be fully recovered in seven or eight days. It is strange, though—I find it quite odd."

Shen Rong paused, setting down her teacup, and looked at her. "How so?"

Lianxiang frowned in thought. "With wounds that deep, an ordinary person would be bedridden for at least a month. How is it that he only needs a week? Is he perhaps naturally gifted?" She picked up the teapot and continued pouring tea as she spoke.

Shen Rong remained noncommittal.

Nonsense. Otherwise, why would she have wasted a hundred gold pieces' worth of medicinal wine on him? As long as someone wasn't beyond saving, that wine would ensure a rapid recovery. Still, to be fully healed in a week—the man’s constitution was indeed exceptionally sturdy.

Shen Rong recalled the agile, powerful movements of the man as he threw himself toward her before her death in her previous life. His martial arts were certainly not lacking. Last night, when she helped him undress to apply the medicine, he hadn't even furrowed his brow.

Could it be that he didn't feel pain?

Shen Rong smiled indifferently. In her past life, he had risen from a lowly stable hand named A-Jiu to become the Prince of Huaian, a man wielding great military power. He must have suffered countless wounds; this was likely nothing to him.

Glancing at the matron whom Manhe had skillfully dismissed, Shen Rong sighed, "Matron Gui is truly persistent." She took another sip of tea and continued, "Next time she comes, throw her out. She is far too fond of putting on airs; it is irritating just to look at her."

She was the rightful heir to the Shen family; when had it become Madame Meng's place to give her an attitude? Previously, she had needed Shen Yu, so she had shown Madame Meng some courtesy. Now, was the woman actually brazen enough to send a servant to manipulate her? She clearly didn't know her place.

Lianxiang, pouring tea nearby, felt her hand tremble. *This... this doesn't seem right,* she thought.

Before long, Manhe lifted the curtain and entered. "Young Lady, Meixiang just reported that she saw the Young Master leading a group of men toward the stables, looking quite aggressive."

Shen Rong’s eyes brightened. "Did Meixiang inform Shen Yu? What did she say?"

Meixiang was her other head maid, a clever girl who knew exactly how to tailor her words to different people. Entrusting such a task to her was a safe bet.

Manhe nodded at Shen Rong. "Meixiang was 'gossiping' with some friends this morning along the Young Master’s usual path. She mentioned that the Eldest Young Lady had brought back a very handsome man, spending a fortune on his medical care and even setting him up in a private servant’s room, though the reason remained unclear."

Shen Rong could easily imagine the animated expression on Meixiang's face as she spoke. Shen Xu lived as if money were water; having cash gave him an inflated sense of confidence. He was surrounded by the competitive environment of the military camp, and because Shen Yu had recently been restricting his spending to prevent him from getting into trouble, he was already deeply dissatisfied with his younger sister. Hearing that Shen Yu was spending vast sums on an outsider would surely drive him to fury. He would want the man dead, if only because every cent spent on someone else was a cent less for his own debauchery.

Shen Rong set down her teacup, stepped off the daybed, and smoothed the wrinkles in her skirt. A corner of her mouth lifted. "Let’s go. Let's head over and watch the show."

***

"He has been soaking in ice water for two hours now. Young Master, please, let him go."

The speaker was a youth of fifteen or sixteen, likely a fellow stable hand. His face was etched with anxiety. The others immediately rebuked him.

"You must call him 'Master'! Is 'Young Master' something a lowly slave like you is fit to say?"

"Birds of a feather! All these wastes just flock together!"

"Young Master, this trash must have used some trick; how else could he last so long in ice water?"

"To dare show disrespect to our Master—in my opinion, he should be left there for a day and a night! Isn't he supposed to be tough?"

Leaning casually against a corner wall near the stables to watch the spectacle, Shen Rong raised an eyebrow. The dialogue was pure cannon fodder! Interesting, truly interesting.

She wondered when the beauty would arrive to save the hero.

Shen Xu, having been humiliated in public at the foot of Jing'an Temple and left with a bruised face, had been burning with rage. He hadn't known who had slighted him then, but he had certainly found someone to vent his frustrations on now.

Shen Xu squinted, his face still swollen on one side. "The Shen family is a house of prestige; we are not a place where any stray cat or dog can wander in. As a fifth-rank light cavalry general, all you vermin fall under my jurisdiction." He snorted coldly, "Don't think that just because Yu brought you back, you deserve special treatment. The Shen family will not waste silver on a freeloader like you!"

"Master, why don't I teach this trash a lesson for you? No need to dirty your own hands," a servant chimed in fawningly.

Shen Xu didn't respond, instead taking two steps forward to look down at the man in the pool. "If you kowtow to me three times, I might just be in a good enough mood to show mercy and let you stay in the Shen family as a dog."

The others scrambled to curry favor, while the youth who had spoken up for A-Jiu earlier stood by in anxious silence, the only one seemingly concerned for the boy who remained in the freezing water despite his severe injuries.

Amidst the swirling white mist of the icy pool, the man’s youthful, rugged face remained unchanged. He did not even lift his eyes, though the tension in his expression revealed the agony he was enduring.

Watching the man's stoic demeanor, a flash of inexplicable jealousy crossed Shen Xu's eyes. He glared at the man’s body—soaked and pale, yet more muscular and robust than his own—and his patience finally snapped.

"Push him back into the ice water! If he can last another quarter-hour, I’ll keep him—to polish my boots!"

As Shen Xu spoke, the four servants beside him swarmed forward, pinning the man’s shoulders and arms. They used all their strength, only to realize they could not budge him in the slightest!

Shen Xu’s eyes turned red. This was the physique he had dreamed of in the military camp! How could it possibly belong to a useless stable hand? He drew his red-tasseled spear, ready to end the man regardless of the consequences, when—

"Stop!"

A voice like a warbler’s drifted from the veranda.

Everyone looked up to see a young woman approaching, her hands folded before her, walking with graceful, lotus-like steps. Even the two maids behind her were of striking appearance.

Seeing his sister, Shen Yu, Shen Xu pouted. Bored, he lowered his spear and tapped it against the ground. The servants holding the man also stopped, gazing at the newcomer with a mix of reverence and obsession.

The man in the ice water shifted his gaze. Upon seeing who it was, he lowered his head once more, his expression unreadable.

Shen Rong, hidden in the corner, felt a spark of joy. *Finally.* If she hadn't arrived, Shen Xu would have killed the man for sure.