Chapter 53: Life and Death Hang Upon a Single Thought

Shen Hao paced back and forth, replaying the words of the river bandit in his mind. An unquenchable fire surged within his chest; for the first time, he truly harbored murderous intent.

That the Shen family could produce a traitor—one who would rise against his own kin—was an idea too dreadful to contemplate. If such a rebellion were to succeed, he dared not imagine the consequences.

What was worse, from what he had heard, it seemed entirely possible. That, above all, chilled him to the bone.

“Mother, we cannot let Lu Jin remain,” Shen Hao said, shuddering at the thought of Lu Jin leading a band of outlaws into the Shen estate. He was not afraid of death, but the foundation his family had built over centuries—how could he ever answer to his ancestors if it were lost?

Madam Bai Lu glanced toward her son, sighing inwardly at his shortsightedness.

Generation after generation, great families and dynasties had fallen into decline, each for their own reasons, but it could be summed up in one phrase: the succeeding generation is never as capable as the last.

As for the present Shen family, her sons and grandsons alike barely managed to maintain what they had inherited. Yet in her grandson-in-law, the old matriarch saw a glimmer of the ambition and drive the family had long since lost.

A frail scholar, and yet he had adapted effortlessly in the den of river bandits, had risen to second-in-command. The words he spoke, the things he did—all left the old lady marveling. The Shen family had produced a dragon at last.

But such a grandson-in-law could also be a man-eating beast. Mishandled, not only would he fail to aid the family, but he might well turn against them.

“Mother, do you think he’s seeking revenge against the Shen family?” Shen Hao ventured, unable to think of any other reason.

“And why would he wish to avenge himself upon us?” the old lady replied carelessly.

Shen Hao’s expression stiffened. Was it not because he had forced Lu Jin to kneel in the pouring rain? Others might not know, but he was well aware of the animosity Lu Jin harbored toward him.

What he could not understand was that he had refrained from punishing Lu Jin severely, opting instead for a measured rebuke. Who would have thought such a minor slight would breed such lasting resentment?

“If a man would go to such lengths for being made to kneel in the rain—if he bears such grudges—do you truly think him capable of great ambitions, of broad vision? And when you settle matters, can you not first ascertain the cause? That child was frail to begin with; if something had happened to him, how would you answer your conscience?”

“Mother, you are right; but he wants to rebel against the family!” Shen Hao protested anxiously. Did his mother not see that the Shen family was the greatest landowner and power in the region?

“Would you ever rebel against me?” The old lady gazed at her son with interest.

“Mother, this is no time for jest. You are my mother—how could I ever act against you?” Shen Hao replied with a wry smile.

“And you are his father-in-law; why would he rebel against you? If we are truly a family, would he smash his own rice bowl?”

That was logical, but as a father-in-law, he was so in title only. There was a rift between Lu Jin and the family. Why else would he have left home?

“Not everyone cares for names and lofty principles,” Shen Hao muttered.

“That’s why the crux of the matter is whether he bears any affection for the Shen family, whether he is a man of feeling,” the old lady said, narrowing her eyes.

Shen Hao fell silent. Was that not obvious? If he were truly a man of feeling, would things have come to this?

“Even so, he shouldn’t be involved in all this chaos—this ‘acting on behalf of heaven’ business,” Shen Hao lamented.

“You are old enough not to believe every rumor you hear. Wait until he returns and ask him yourself,” the old lady said impatiently. Truth be told, she herself had no answers; she could not fathom why he was so determined to live as a bandit—and with such commitment.

“Mother, do you think he’ll return?”

He had left with such resolve—would a few words persuade him back? Even if they said Yanxi was gravely ill, that boy might not return; if he cared for her, he would never have left.

The old lady could read her son’s answer from his face.

“How about a wager?” she proposed gently.

“What kind of wager?”

“If he returns, you must treat him as your own son. Can you do that?” she asked, her tone now solemn.

“And if he does not?”

“Then I have overestimated him. A man without feeling, vengeful and narrow-minded, is not to be kept. Do with him as you will.”

“I promise, Mother.”

“Remember my words—treat him as your own!”

“And as for that charred body, see whose child was taken. If you cannot identify him, perform the proper rites and bury him well. He was a soul with a bitter fate.”

The thought of the blackened corpse made Shen Hao frown deeply. How could anyone recognize it?

The Shen family had nearly held a funeral in error.

“Mother, if Lu Jin does return, what of those bandits?” Shen Hao probed.

In Shen Hao’s mind, if Lu Jin refused to return, then for both their sakes, all ties would be severed—there would be no room for reconciliation. Even if they brought him back by force, it would not save his daughter.

Moreover, with Lu Jin’s help, the bandits had become a force to be reckoned with. The Shen family could not allow them to grow unchecked, as righteous outlaws or otherwise.

But if Lu Jin did return, should the bandits be spared?

“Their leader was able to send word to us without Lu Jin’s knowledge. That shows a man of loyalty and sentiment—we must not repay kindness with enmity. They are but a band of petty thieves. The authorities of Jiangbei are already working to suppress them. Let us see if they can escape.”

“And besides, with such a fine son-in-law, what have you to fear?” the old lady said with a soft laugh.

Shen Hao had no words.

“This affair need not reach the officials in Jiangzhou. Just send two or three of our most trusted men; no more are needed,” the old lady instructed patiently.

Upstairs, Shen Yanxi lay quietly upon her bed, eyes shut, her cheeks pale, her hair dry and brittle—the very image of prolonged illness.

Who could have imagined that the pride of the family would, in but a few days, be reduced to such a state?

“Miss, Master has been found. Please wake up, won’t you? We will go together to welcome him,” Shu Qing whispered at her bedside, tears falling like strings of broken pearls.

“Miss, Master surely does not know how much you miss him. Please, wake up…”

No matter how Shu Qing pleaded, there was no response.

At the back of the room, her nursemaid Yuan Hui dabbed at her eyes. Her young mistress had suffered so much. Such turbulence in just a few days—joys and sorrows, over and over—even a person of iron could not withstand it.

“Madam!”

Hearing a sound, Yuan Hui turned to see Zhou Manyun entering and quickly went forward to greet her.

But Zhou Manyun paid her no mind, going straight to the bedside and sitting down, grasping Shen Yanxi’s hand and silently weeping.

The once sharp and forceful Zhou Manyun had, in these days, become a mere shadow of herself. She spoke not a word, cared for nothing in the household, spending her every waking hour at Shen Yanxi’s side.

No one in the Shen estate could bear to see the lady of the house waste away like this, but all efforts to persuade her had failed. In the end, it was the old lady’s order to add medicine to her water that finally made Zhou Manyun sleep.

And yet, once awake, she returned at once and sat there for the whole day. The servants, seeing this, could only sigh. They could not drug her every day.

All they could hope for was that the young master would return soon. Only with his return could the gloom over the Shen estate finally lift.