Chapter 2: The Spooked Horse
Shen Zhishu was, in a sense, a very cautious person.
This was demonstrated by the fact that she turned the cloth mask over and over, held it under her nose to sniff it, and inspected it for the time it takes half an incense stick to burn (about 15 minutes) before finally tying it around her face.
Her attendant laughed, “You’re being overly cautious, Your Excellency. Surely you don’t distrust this subordinate? I have been serving Mistress He ever since you left the capital.”
Shen Zhishu shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I’m afraid that even you could have been ensnared without realizing it.”
The lower half of her face was covered, revealing only a pair of peach blossom eyes. Her eyelashes were thick, and a light shimmered deep within her eyes. When she stared directly at someone, she exuded a certain… unwarranted affection.
The attendant stood for a moment under that “affectionate” gaze and suddenly grew uncomfortable, lowering her head to fiddle with her hair.
After fiddling for the time it took half an incense stick to burn, she caught sight of Shen Zhishu still staring at her. Her heart suddenly pounded with tumultuous waves—
Could it be that Little Lord Shen has taken a fancy to me?
Speaking of which, the position of General’s Consort is still vacant…
As her thoughts raced, the attendant suddenly became bashful. She raised her eyes ever so slightly, and her usually forthright voice became soft and charming. “General, why are you looking at me like that?”
Shen Zhishu said, “Did you have green vegetables for lunch?”
The attendant replied, “Did the General even notice what this humble one ate?”
“No,” Shen Zhishu stated calmly. “It’s just that there’s a leaf stuck between your teeth. I’ve been looking at it for a while. I was too embarrassed to point it out, but since you haven’t noticed, I thought I’d ask.”
The attendant: …
The attendant stormed off.
Actually, she didn’t storm off. It was because Shen Zhishu immediately followed up with, “You stay here and rest your feet. Allow me to wander around alone.”
The horse beneath her was not the one she usually rode; it was small and thin, and Shen Zhishu didn’t have the heart to urge it into a gallop. She ambled quietly through the alleyways, slowly making her way toward the west side of the city.
The sun was setting in the west, and plumes of cooking smoke rose at intervals along the small alley, a sign that ordinary families were starting to prepare their meals.
Shen Zhishu reined in her horse and looked up for a moment, suddenly wondering what her life would be like now if she hadn’t joined the army, but had instead followed a tutor in literary studies, steadily walking her Mother Shen’s old path.
—I probably wouldn’t have left the capital, and our family would have always lived together in harmony. Then, every evening, a plume of cooking smoke like this would rise above the Shen Residence.
Unlike now, when after eight years of separation, the faces of Mother Shen and Mother He were almost fading from her memory.
As she was lost in thought, she found herself, upon returning to her senses, standing before the Shen Residence.
With Mother Shen’s promotion to Minister of Rites, the Shen Residence had long since been expanded and renovated. With its carved beams and painted rafters, it was magnificent and grand.
A gleaming golden plaque hung above the main gate, with two characters inscribed in clerical script: Shen Residence.
The gates were closed. Shen Zhishu hesitated for a moment, then tied her horse to the stone lion by the entrance, walked forward slowly, and knocked on the door.
However, the moment she knocked, she regretted it.
Mother Shen was at the palace, and Mother He was at the General’s Manor. Both of her grandmothers had already passed away—so, who would be in the Shen Residence now?
Shen Zhishu slowly closed her eyes and sighed inwardly, wondering if that group of excessively boisterous concubines from her memory had changed their ways in the eight years she had been gone.
Probably not—from within the heavy gates, she could already faintly hear the hearty laughter of Concubine Xue.
**
It was because of Concubine Xue that Shen Zhishu had learned martial arts.
She began her studies at the age of six, chanting the classics with the same old tutor who had once taught Mother Shen. She was exceptionally bright, and the old tutor always told Mother Shen, “I see this child surpassing you sooner or later.”
At that time, Mother Shen was still a Director in the Ministry of Rites. She would put an arm around Shen Zhishu’s shoulder, stroke her fluffy head, and smile. “It all depends on this child’s own destiny.”
Mother Shen’s name was Shen Hantan.
Shen Zhishu studied with the old tutor until she was twelve.
That year, Shen Hantan welcomed a new concubine into the family.
In the Southern Kingdom, it was common to have multiple wives and concubines. Before marriage, both parties would agree on their future roles: whether to be the “wedded party” or the “marrying party.”
After the wedding, the wedded party would move in with the marrying party, who in turn had to provide the wedded party’s family with a handsome betrothal gift.
Henceforth, the marrying party would manage external affairs, while the wedded party managed internal affairs. If the marrying party had the desire and means, they could take more spouses, but only with the consent of the wedded party.
There were also those who did not wish to distinguish between the two roles. They would pledge themselves to each other for life, sharing financial burdens together after marriage. This was known as an “equal marriage.”
Shen Hantan and Mother He did not have an equal marriage. Mother He’s family was not well-off, so when Shen Hantan married her, she gave them one hundred taels of silver, sixty-six bolts of cloth, and sixty-six bolts of silk, and promised the He family a lifetime of prosperity.
The task of bearing children was usually undertaken by the wedded party. However, Shen Hantan felt sorry for Mother He’s weak constitution, so she took it upon herself, was pregnant for ten months, and gave birth to Shen Zhishu, taking leave from the Ministry of Rites for nearly half a year.
Therefore, to say that Shen Hantan was not good to Mistress He would be absolutely impossible. But if one were to say she was good… Shen Hantan also already had five concubines.
Concubine Xue was the sixth.
Concubine Xue was a foreigner whom Shen Hantan brought back from a northern inspection tour with the Emperor. Nomadic people have fierce temperaments; she wielded a red-tasseled spear with impressive vigor, and the corners of her eyes and the tips of her brows held the unrestrained, free spirit of the wilderness.
When Shen Zhishu asked Concubine Xue what the grasslands were like, Concubine Xue blinked and said cheerfully, “I’ll have a word with Hantan and take you to see for yourself.”
After that one look, Shen Zhishu’s heart was captured by the back of a horse, and it never returned.
Her thoughts returning to the present, Shen Zhishu looked at the large iron gate that creaked open before her and felt a headache coming on.
For no other reason, than…
In her memory, Shen Hantan’s concubines were all too boisterous!
Ever since she could remember, the air above the Shen Residence was always filled with endless, overlapping laughter. The First Concubine loved climbing trees, the Second Concubine was obsessed with learning opera, the Third Concubine wanted to tear off the roof to better observe the celestial phenomena at night, and the Fourth Concubine wanted to catch carp in the frozen pond in the dead of winter…
Not to mention, every time they saw her, the concubines were like they’d seen a long-haired calico cat. They had to pounce on her with gleaming eyes and knead her like dough before they would stop.
Mother He was quiet and didn’t join their antics. She would just sit smiling under the grape trellis, wrapped in a blanket, making idle chitchat with the newly arrived concubines who hadn’t yet been “corrupted.”
The gatekeeper standing at the entrance was unfamiliar, and Little General Shen, with her face covered, was equally unfamiliar to the gatekeeper. She had probably rarely seen someone with such a distinguished air visit the Shen Residence without announcing their name, so she was stunned for a moment, before asking after a short pause:
“Who are you? What is your business at the Shen Residence?”
Shen Zhishu gave a feigned cough. “Is this the Shen Residence? I’ve taken a wrong turn.”
“You’re lying. Is the Shen Residence a place you can mess around with?” The gatekeeper glared at her, suddenly reached out, and pulled off her mask. “Wearing a mask, as if afraid we’d recognize… wait, Little Lord Shen?!!”
Shen Zhishu: “…No, you have the wrong person.”
“These eyes of mine have never been wrong! Your portrait is sold all over the city, north and south. I’ve seen it ten thousand times!” The gatekeeper, as if seeing a living legend, let out a howl loud enough to shatter glass, “Little Lord Shen! It’s Little Lord Shen! Little Lord Shen has come in person!”
That shout was like poking a hornet’s nest, and a crowd of people instantly swarmed over like an avalanche.
Shen Zhishu: …
Good news: the most boisterous concubines didn’t seem to be among them.
Bad news: there were many new faces she didn’t recognize. And as for personality… one takes the color of one’s company.
Shen Zhishu fled in disarray.
She had never been so disheveled in her twenty-two years of life.
It wasn’t until she had frantically untied her horse’s reins, hurriedly mounted it, and fled halfway like a refugee escaping a famine that she suddenly remembered—
A certain attendant had been left behind by her for over half a shichen (one hour).
**
The attendant was forlornly sipping meat broth in a nearby shop.
She had never served Little General Shen before and couldn’t quite grasp her temperament. After all, their language was truly profound and extensive. “We’ll talk later” usually meant “We’ll never speak of this again,” and “I’ll treat you some other day” meant “I’m just being polite.”
So then, what did “You stay here and rest your feet, allow me to wander around alone” mean… could it possibly be “I’m ditching you, so get lost”?
The attendant pondered for a long time without a clue, so she smacked her lips and waved to the waiter, “Another bowl of meat broth!”
The meat broth was steaming hot, with four or five meatballs, each half the size of a fist, bobbing inside. They were fresh in color and firm in texture; a single bite was so savory it could make your tongue fall off.
The attendant was halfway through slurping down her soup when a sudden gust of wind blew past her, and then, a sheathed sword appeared on the table.
The attendant jumped in fright and looked up, bowl in hand, to see it was Shen Zhishu.
She smacked her lips, took out a handkerchief to wipe the grease, and smiled. “Little Lord Shen, you arrive so quietly. You gave this subordinate quite a scare.”
Shen Zhishu unfastened her great cloak, lifted her robes, and sat down on the long bench, jerking her head toward the attendant. “You may go now.”
“Go where?”
“The General’s Manor.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll sit here for a while.”
The attendant tried to persuade her, “You should come back as well, Your Excellency. Mistress He will worry if she sees me return alone without you.”
“She won’t worry. We haven’t seen each other in eight years, what’s another short while?”
The attendant was at a loss for words. She stared for a moment, then said dryly, “I’m afraid something might happen to you…”
“That’s enough.” Shen Zhishu waved her hand dismissively. “If someone really wanted to harm me, you being here would only be a greater hindrance, and I would have to divert my attention to protect you.”
The attendant: …
The attendant, having been declared a “hindrance,” left decisively.
Shen Zhishu paid the bill for her and sat idly at the table for a while, but had no desire to eat or drink—mainly because taking off her mask would attract attention—so she simply picked up her sword, donned her cloak, went out, mounted her horse, and rode south.
The sky had already begun to darken, the outlines of the distant mountains indistinct, hidden in the gloom on the horizon. The lanterns were just being lit, and the streets in the south of the city glowed with orange-yellow light. It was probably close to the New Year festival, so they weren’t skimping on candles; the flames burned brightly, creating a festive sight.
Shen Zhishu ambled along, eyeing the three-story restaurant at the end of the street, planning to go in, get a private room, and find something to eat in peace.
There were several intersections along the street, connecting to other small alleys. But she hadn’t ridden more than a few steps when a figure suddenly darted out of an alley, recklessly, and nearly collided with her horse.
The horse and the figure brushed past each other, and both cried out at the same time.
Startled, Shen Zhishu quickly reined in her horse and looked down to get a closer look.
It was a young woman.
