Volume One, Chapter Seven: Xie Xun

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Shen Rong had just turned the corridor corner when she suddenly spotted a figure standing under an umbrella not far ahead, held by a young attendant. She wondered how long he had been standing there, how long he had been listening...

Though it wasn’t the first time she had seen him, each sudden appearance still took her breath away.

It was Xie Xun.

In this lifetime, the obsession etched deep into her very bones clashed violently with the lifelessness of her previous life the moment he appeared, sending a subtle numbness through her body.

He wore a moonlit brocade robe, pristine and unblemished.

Apart from a single exquisite white jade pendant hanging on his robe, there was no other adornment. Cradling a guqin, his features were like a masterful painting.

Every gesture and movement radiated innate elegance. He strolled leisurely, as if the surrounding grass and trees dimmed in comparison. He seemed to possess a strange power, capable of drawing one’s soul deep within, making escape impossible.

He appeared to sense her gaze, lifting a slender, exquisitely boned hand to shift the umbrella aside, revealing half of his face as he looked her way.

Shen Rong’s eyes narrowed instinctively. The more beautiful something is, the more dangerous it can be; the ancients were never wrong.

She watched Xie Xun approach step by step, like a flawlessly crafted ink painting. No matter who stood before him, they would surely seem insignificant as dust, hopelessly outmatched.

After a moment, Shen Rong’s eyes cleared, and she smiled inexplicably, then walked forward.

Seeing the young lady approaching, Xie Xun assumed she was there to confront him as usual, and he slightly furrowed his brow. Unexpectedly, the girl’s steps faltered near him briefly, then she walked past without a word, her bright yellow skirt sweeping freely through the air, without a hint of hesitation.

His toes paused, and he tilted his head slightly.

Beside him, Xing Xian stared wide-eyed, following the retreating yellow figure with disbelief.

She actually just walked past him without a word? And right in front of the young master?

“Master, our third miss is usually so carefree and unrestrained. I never expected her to be so clever,” Xing Xian remarked.

“But her behavior today is different. I recall she always valued Granny Sun and disliked Man He. Now it seems reversed. And just yesterday, she was cheerfully coaxing the master to visit Jing’an Temple. How come today, after returning from the temple...” Xing Xian glanced at her master’s calm profile, then hesitated. “Just now, third miss looked a little... frightening.”

Xie Xun lowered his gaze, remaining silent for a moment. Then his clear, spring-like eyes flickered.

“Mo Yan.” He called softly into the void. A lithe man in a simple green robe appeared silently beneath the eaves, bowing his head respectfully. If one wasn’t paying attention, he might easily be overlooked, blending into the crowd.

“You’re going to Jing’an Temple in the southern part of the city.”

Mo Yan nodded slightly, said nothing more, and disappeared over the high walls of the Shen residence.

“Let’s go.”

Xing Xian pursed her lips, daring not to inquire further. Mo Yan rarely appeared; when he did, it meant important business for the master.

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Holding the umbrella and keeping half a step distance, Xing Xian followed Xie Xun toward the main gate of the Shen residence. Unlike before, there was no longer a loud, boisterous girl persistently beside him, which made Xing Xian feel rather uneasy.

Only when the footsteps behind them faded completely did Shen Rong suddenly clutch her chest, bending over to gasp for breath. Her composed demeanor vanished entirely.

In that brief instant, every memory involving him surged through her mind in a wave of terror.

In her previous life, when the Shen family fell into crisis, Xie Xun had seemingly vanished from the world. By the time she realized what had happened, his influence had thoroughly infiltrated the entire Shen household. When she saw him again, he seized control of the vast Shen estate with overwhelming power.

When she was sent into the former Shen household, now the Southern Ming Prince’s mansion, by Huaiyang General Qin Ying, he appeared like a deity before her, looking down on her like a stranger. Meeting his cold, distant gaze, she felt like a filthy, worthless thing, crushed by a mere glance.

Compared to him, she was nothing but a clown. The year she chased after Xie Xun was the biggest joke of all.

She didn’t know how long she had stood in the cold wind before her thoughts finally calmed. The biting wind swept over her frail frame again and again, reminding her of one truth in this life:

For the Shen family, for her father, for self-preservation, and for the shattered heart she bore from the previous life, seeing Xie Xun again was nothing but a tool to be used.

———

The guards outside Shen Zheng’s study did not stop Shen Rong.

She pushed open the door directly and saw her father — healthy, upright, and impeccably dressed — discussing accounts with the steward. Upon seeing her, the stern expression on his face softened into a smile.

Jokingly, he said, “Weren’t you at Jing’an Temple praying and consulting the gods? How come you have time today to visit your poor old father?”

Shen Rong’s hurried steps came to an abrupt halt upon seeing her lively yet teasing father. A flicker of realization passed through her eyes and a sharp ache pricked her nose, rendering her momentarily speechless.

How long had it been since she last saw her father?

Since he had hurriedly sent her out of the city at sixteen, she had not seen him again until her death at nineteen.

Three years.

A full three years.

Those people had used her as leverage to force her father to relinquish the headship of the Shen family. Until the very end, when her father was exhausted and fading, they refused to let her see him.

“You don’t know, before Second Uncle passed, he had wasted away to nothing but bones, calling out ‘Rongrong’ over and over again!”

Every time she recalled Shen Yu’s words before her death in the previous life, her heart felt as if it were being cut to shreds.

Shen Zheng noticed the uncharacteristic expression on his usually resolute and independent daughter’s face and his own complexion changed slightly.

He stepped out from behind his desk quickly, approaching Shen Rong in three strides, lowering his voice to ask, “Has someone bullied you? Tell me, no matter who they are — noble or common — your father will go to them and demand justice!”

His words, meant to reassure, suddenly made Shen Rong’s eyes well up.

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Shen Zheng was taken aback, his eyes darkening with worry. The usually composed man suddenly seemed at a loss. “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Father will go and settle this for you right now!”

Shen Rong grabbed hold of him as he was about to leave, feeling both amused and helpless. She hadn’t even explained what had happened—who was he rushing to confront?

His earnestness made her smile through her tears, but the sob that escaped brought the floodgates open; tears she had held back spilled uncontrollably.

“It’s not... uh... I had a nightmare last night. I dreamed that Mother and Father were both gone, and no matter how I looked, I couldn’t find them...”

So it was a dream of A Ling.

Shen Zheng let out a relieved breath.

Ever since Rongrong was five, after A Ling left, she often had nightmares. The little girl curled up on the large bed, truly pitiful. As she grew older and became more sensible, she never spoke of these dreams again.

Shen Zheng’s eyes shimmered with guilt, but he laughed heartily, feigning lightheartedness. “I thought it was something serious. You’ve always been fearless and bold. Now that you’re almost of age, scared by a nightmare? Your mother would probably tease you if she knew.”

The steward standing respectfully nearby saw this and slightly moved his eyes. “Since the family head has matters to attend to, I shall return later.”

With a third person present, Shen Rong suddenly felt a bit embarrassed. She glanced at the steward and was struck as if by lightning—a bucket of cold water dousing her head.

That man...

Shen Zheng nodded. “Good. I need to consider carefully what you said. Go back and make a list, then I’ll discuss it further with the others.”

The steward bowed and nodded to both Shen Zheng and Shen Rong, then left the study with his account book.

Shen Zheng watched him leave and sighed, “Truly young and capable...”

Shen Rong’s emotions churned. She didn’t know how deeply Xie Xun’s influence had now penetrated.

“Father, who is this man...?”

“He’s Xie Xun’s recommendation to me some days ago. Only in his early twenties, but extremely meticulous and thorough. It’s really a shame to have him as just an accountant for the inner household. I plan to have him help manage the external accounts.”

Shen Rong looked at Gu Ming’s scholarly figure.

Indeed, it was a disservice to him.

She didn’t believe that Gu Ming, who had once served the Southern Ming Prince, would willingly be at her father’s beck and call...