Cheng Baoyi hadn’t used to stay here very often. But Tang Shen reminded her that since she had the ambition to “vie for the succession,” she needed to show up in front of the “emperor” more frequently. Cheng Baoyi dismissed the advice, grumbling that when she was at the company, she most despised people who didn’t do any real work and only knew how to fish for attention. Tang Shen smiled. “You’re different from them, aren’t you?”
No matter how capable a young woman was, it was as if she carried an invisible, giant ruler everywhere she went, handy for measuring whether she lived up to the expectations of those around her. Societal pressure was already heavy enough, and in a place like the Cheng family, it was doubly so. Just as Cheng Baoyi was mentally putting herself on trial, she unceremoniously received a call from Tan Meiqi telling her to send Tang Shen over for tea.
Cheng Baoyi muttered that her mother was probably up to no good again and insisted on coming along to keep her company. Tang Shen chuckled, saying it wasn’t a death trap at a banquet. Cheng Baoyi retorted that even if it wasn’t a trap, she was worried her mother would say something hurtful. Seeing Baoyi fret on her behalf, Tang Shen found the young woman rather endearing.
Tan Meiqi’s bedroom was exquisitely decorated. The heavy, dark velvet curtains half-concealed the garden scenery outside. Looking closer at the furniture, it was all very refined, though it had clearly seen some years. Some items on the desk unmistakably lacked a woman’s touch. The photo frames were filled with pictures of Tan Meiqi and a man. One look, and Tang Shen understood: positioned in such a prime spot in the room wasn’t the favored living person, but rather her deceased husband. Living in her late husband’s bedroom, Tan Meiqi was like someone existing in the shadow of a gradually collapsing pillar of support.
Even within her own bedroom, Tan Meiqi still wore a lotus-pink suit, her hair neatly combed, with a pair of tiny pearl earrings on her lobes. The haughty expression was dialed back by half on her face, but the air of a wealthy matron remained intact.
Watching her mother’s demeanor, Cheng Baoyi found it almost comical. She kept her eyes fixed on her mother’s face, ready to charge to Tang Shen’s rescue the moment the mountain collapsed or a fire broke out.
Tan Meiqi picked up her teacup, took a light sip, and finally spoke, her voice much softer than it had been last time.
“About the retail stores, thank you for giving Baoyi those suggestions.”
Tang Shen thought to herself: So Tan Meiqi knew all along. Out loud, she said, “You’re too kind, Mrs. Cheng. I was just rambling nonsense from an outsider’s perspective; it was Ms. Cheng who came up with these ideas and put them into action.”
With her mother and Tang Shen exchanging pleasantries in her ear, Cheng Baoyi forced herself to maintain an expressionless face. Catching sight of this stubborn look, Tang Shen suddenly thought: So that’s how it is. Her insecurity, her self-doubt—they all stemmed from right here. At school, Tang Shen had seen far too many young girls with this exact expression: starting out anxious and constrained, and ending up cold and numb.
As they were chatting idly, Sister Hao suddenly knocked on the door, beaming with a bright smile, and announced that the old lady was inviting Tan Meiqi over for tea.
Tang Shen and Cheng Baoyi exchanged glances. What day is it today? they thought. Why is everyone scrambling to drink tea all of a sudden?
For a period recently, the old lady had pleaded illness and refused to see anyone. Taking the initiative to summon Tan Meiqi this time, she smiled and asked Sister Hao, “Do you know what this is about?”
“Not sure at all, probably just keeping the old lady company for tea.” Sister Hao wore her permanent, unchanging smile.
Tan Meiqi followed Sister Hao out, and Tang Shen accompanied Cheng Baoyi back to her room. The two continued chatting about the store topic. They both agreed that the surge in web traffic from internet influencers was only temporary; when it came to health and supplement products, the product itself was paramount.
Not long after, Tan Meiqi returned from the old lady’s quarters and came looking for her daughter. Her expression wasn’t looking too good; clearly, whatever she had heard wasn’t pleasant. Knowing the mother and daughter had things to discuss, Tang Shen made an excuse about needing to prepare her lessons and started to leave, but Tan Meiqi stopped her. “You stay.”
Tang Shen sat back down.
Tan Meiqi fished out her phone. On the screen, a scantily clad young girl was posing seductively in front of the Cheng Yongtang storefront.
Cheng Baoyi looked straight into Tan Meiqi’s eyes. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.” Of course she was just talking nonsense. Anyone could guess that the elderly woman wouldn’t look kindly on such displays.
Sure enough, Tan Meiqi said, “The old lady said… putting effort into running the shops is a good thing, but she’s heard many people outside starting to gossip, saying that the two shops have been made to look too flashy and lack the dignity of a century-old brand. She’s a bit concerned.”
“Is it ‘many people outside,’ or certain people in the eldest branch?” Cheng Baoyi asked with a half-smile.
Tan Meiqi was startled. What has gotten into Baoyi? When had she ever dared to speak to her like this before? She figured her daughter was still holding a grudge over that previous incident. If her son were older, she might have been able to consult with Kejia, but right now she had no choice; she could only swallow this grievance served up by her daughter first. Tan Meiqi wasn’t a fool—she knew full well when to play weak and when to put up a strong front.
With a sigh, she put on a long-winded, earnest expression meant to convey she was “doing this for your own good.” “Even though hiring online influencers is a good idea, you still have to mind your positioning. The old lady said that the reputation of Cheng Yongtang was built up by generations of ancestors, and we can’t drag the signboard down just to make tourist money. She wants us to pay attention to that.”
Cheng Baoyi let out a soft laugh. “Pay attention to what? We hired those influencers in the beginning, but the ones coming later showed up on their own accord. We can’t exactly block people from coming, can we?”
Tan Meiqi pretended not to understand. Anyway, she was middle-aged; she didn’t need to understand the young people’s gimmicks. So she put on a bewildered, perplexed expression and shook her head. “Just change the stores back to how they looked originally as soon as you go back, and stop inviting influencers to film those shop-review videos.”
Always like this.
It had always been like this.
Tan Meiqi left, but the pent-up frustration in Cheng Baoyi’s chest lingered, refusing to dissipate for a long time. Tang Shen lowered her head, unlocked her phone, and opened those videos again. She watched them once, then twice.
“What’s so interesting to look at?” Cheng Baoyi’s voice still carried a trace of lingering irritation.
“Watching people fish in troubled waters.”
Cheng Baoyi understood.
Who had muddied the waters? It wasn’t hard to guess at all.
Tang Shen had been living in Macau for a while now, and gradually, she was growing more and more familiar with the city. At first, it was through words and books: the times before and after the arrival of the Portuguese, the ins and outs of opening up the gaming rights, life around the handover, and how this small city was woven into the Greater Bay Area’s master plan…
Later on, it was through the paths she walked: starting with Love Lane and Mandarin’s House, and eventually expanding into the daily routines of the locals…
That evening, as she returned from outside, a heavy downpour suddenly drifted from the sky. Lowering her head to rummage through her bag, she fished out a Macau Pass card and popped open a small umbrella. Just as she was walking toward the bus stop, a car pulled up and halted right in front of her. Cheng Keqi poked half his face out. “Get in.”
Tang Shen was naturally on guard against people from the eldest branch, but Cheng Keqi looked at her with a gentle smile. Compared to his older brother Cheng Kewei, he was more delicate in appearance and mild-mannered, so Tang Shen folded up her dripping wet umbrella and slipped into the car. “I’m so sorry to bother you.”
Glancing at her umbrella, he smiled. “Your umbrella is too small.”
“It’s enough for one person.”
Noting her rain-soaked shoulder, he didn’t press the matter, nor did he ask where she had just been, let alone utter a single word about Cheng Yongtang. Instead, he asked how Kejia was doing, whether she had settled into life in Macau comfortably, and what she did for leisure lately. Tang Shen was already accustomed to being a transparent non-entity in the Cheng family; her privacy had been entirely sold off in exchange for a tutor’s salary, so the ride turned out to be quite comfortable. As she got out of the car, she thought to herself: unless Cheng Keqi’s pleasant nature was purely an act, he was truly a formidable person.
Tang Shen headed upstairs and ran into Wen Yizhuang in the corridor. With his jacket draped over his arm, he had probably just returned from outside as well. His hair was damp at the tips, presumably from the light drizzle outside. As he was casually smoothing back his wet hair, he spotted Tang Shen and offered a smiling greeting: “You came back in Cheng Keqi’s car?”
“…We just happened to bump into each other.”
“Don’t be nervous. Although Cheng Keqi belongs to the eldest branch, he’s completely different from the others.” Shifting topics with easy nonchalance, he added, “The storefronts are doing quite well.”
“Thank you. I’ll pass your praise along to Baoyi.” She intentionally implied it was all Cheng Baoyi’s achievement and had nothing to do with her.
Wen Yizhuang didn’t follow that direction; instead, with a smile, he steered the conversation elsewhere. “It’s a pity the old lady doesn’t like it.”
Tang Shen looked at him. There was no provocation in his tone; you could even detect a sliver of genuine, regretful sympathy, like a general paying heartfelt tribute to an opponent who had fought a brilliant battle, only to see the defended city fall anyway. I admire you, but what a pity—what a terrible pity.
A hint of matching regret touched Tang Shen’s face. “There are many things Madam Cheng doesn’t like. For instance, she doesn’t like the eldest branch’s table manners being so utterly unseemly, either.”
“Thank you. I’ll pass that along to Cheng Kewei, too.”
“Why bother passing it along? This whole affair was handled by you in the first place. Most of the Cheng family children study abroad; you’re the only one who went to university in the mainland and understands the ecosystem of mainland social media platforms. Aside from you, who else could it be?” When it came to smearing someone behind their backs, they certainly couldn’t use Cheng Yongtang’s PR department.
Wen Yizhuang’s gaze fixed on her face for a moment. “You checked up on me.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” she said. “Just scratching the surface. Meanwhile, I’m treated as a complete nobody in the eyes of the Cheng family.”
“You just didn’t dig deep enough. Both Cheng Baoyi and Cheng Keqi studied traditional Chinese medicine in the mainland.”
There was no one else in the corridor. Now, the general was properly sizing up the opponent he had invited into the game. Her hair was dark and dense, and her complexion and demeanor naturally brought the phrase “soft jade” to mind. He recalled that lately, Cheng Keqi had been spending a bit too much time looking at her. Had Cheng Keqi even noticed that she was actually a piece of stone?
Her speaking cadence was rather unhurried—nothing like the eldest sister’s aggressive edge, nor as nimble and lively as Baoxin’s. But the general knew that this opponent possessed a meticulous mind; she was not an adversary to be taken lightly.
Only an opponent like this was worthy of him.
He heard this opponent reply unhurriedly, “I know. But they aren’t like you.”
Wen Yizhuang slowly smiled. “Oh?”
Having spent years in the Cheng family, he had learned never to show his hand lightly. But that trailing, upward-tending “Oh?” was a stance in itself, meaning: So what if I am?
“The shop near the Ruins of St. Paul’s will continue to operate. Things the old lady dislikes aren’t necessarily things that can’t be done. What she dislikes are things she believes damage the Cheng Yongtang signboard. That kind of judgment can be corrected.”
“Things the old lady has set her mind on are hard for outsiders to correct.”
“Didn’t she just finish praising Cheng Baoyi, only to turn around and change her tune?” Tang Shen pointed out that the old lady detested being manipulated the most. “That kind of trick works once, but by the second time, she’ll see right through it. So the second time around, you surely wouldn’t be naive enough to make a move yourself.”
“Not necessarily,” Wen Yizhuang replied evenly. Beneath the placid, ripple-free surface of his demeanor lay a subtle, faint trace of displeasure at being underestimated. No matter how grand the poise of someone long accustomed to palace politics, having a newcomer surpass them in momentum still felt a bit laughable—especially since she was someone he had introduced in the first place.
“Cheng Kewei is Madam Cheng’s grandson, whereas you, just like me, are merely an outsider. If things blow up, who do you suppose will be blamed first—you, or him?” She paused. “You’re so smart. Even someone like me figured it out; naturally, you know how to choose.”
Having said her piece, with no need to drag out the conversation further, she turned to head back to her room. Just as she pushed her door open, Wen Yizhuang’s voice called out from behind: “Has Teacher Tang ever watched palace intrigue dramas?”
“I rarely watch television.”
“Madam Cheng loves watching television, so we’ve accompanied her through quite a few palace dramas. After watching enough of them, it gets rather interesting. At the very least, I learned one rule: never let your brilliance shine too brightly in the palace. After all, a tree that stands too tall catches the wind, and a rigid branch is the first to snap.”
Without looking back, Tang Shen stepped inside and closed her door. Behind her, the sound of Wen Yizhuang shutting his own door echoed through the hall.