After Shen Molan left Feng Manor, time seemed to suddenly stand still. Most of the time, Feng Wuhen lay in bed. In late August, he began arranging the future of Feng Manor. He knew he wasn’t a good businessman, so he started preparing to hand over the Feng family’s ledgers and tea business to the old steward.
The old steward had cared for him for many years. Now old, Feng Wuhen often let him rest inside, but his mind remained sharp. Even though Feng Wuhen had returned his deed of indenture to him years ago, the steward still chose to stay, diligently managing the Feng family’s affairs.
The steward hadn’t seen Feng Wuhen in days, and when he finally did, he was shocked to find him looking like he was on the verge of death. Tears filled the old man’s eyes. “Wuhen, what’s happened to you?”
Feng Wuhen couldn’t stand seeing others cry, so he pretended to be nonchalant. “It’s just poison. My parents want to see me.”
The old steward, usually composed and calm, truly cared for Feng Wuhen. Furious, he replied, “They don’t want to see you! I’m going to fetch a doctor.”
“Don’t…”
Feng Wuhen sighed, but the steward had already rushed out. Despite his age, he moved much faster than Feng Wuhen did now.
In secret, Feng Wuhen had written his will, and to avoid the steward’s complaints about the contents, he entrusted it to Ying Zuo, who was always discreet.
Ying Zuo and Ying You’s futures were also for them to decide. Xiao Lian liked Ying Zuo, though Feng Wuhen didn’t know if Ying Zuo felt the same way. Ying You had a more outgoing personality, but it was unclear if he had someone in mind. Feng Wuhen wanted to arrange marriages for all three of them, but considering his own experiences, he realized such matters couldn’t be forced—they would have to decide for themselves.
When Ying Zuo first received the will, the usually composed man had red-rimmed eyes. Feng Wuhen, tired of the emotional display, merely said, “If you’re going to cry, do it outside. Don’t get in my way here.”
As summer passed into autumn, the greenery of Feng Manor gradually turned to autumn red. Feng Wuhen’s senses were slowly deteriorating, but with his blurred vision, he could still make out the signs of autumn outside the window.
It was September now.
A few days earlier, the steward had sought out doctors from across Jiangnan, and one had come. After taking Feng Wuhen’s pulse, the physician couldn’t identify the poison. His final diagnosis was the same as the others, “From the pulse alone, I would think you’re an old man at death’s door. Even the gods can’t help; I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.”
The steward, eyes red with tears, saw the doctor out and turned back to Feng Wuhen, weeping. “How could this happen?”
Feng Wuhen comforted him. “Don’t cry, Uncle Fang. I’m not in pain, it’s just that my time is almost up. Everyone dies eventually—I’m just going a little earlier than expected. Besides, my life has become quite boring.” As he spoke, Feng Wuhen smiled bitterly, feeling that his reasoning was sound.
The steward shook his head silently, unsure of how to respond. He raised his hand to cover his face, overwhelmed with emotion.
Two days later, Ying You returned. He had been escorting a shipment of precious tea from Feng Manor to the capital. Upon his return, he had heard some rumors in the jianghu and rushed back to inform Feng Wuhen.
“Is it true?” Feng Wuhen’s eyes lit up. This was the best news he had heard in days. “The Chen family is arranging a marriage for Chen Shaoqing? Who’s the match?” Visit novelping . com for the full chapter.
Ying You, 25 years old and two years younger than Ying Zuo, was more outgoing in nature. He smiled as he replied, “Yes, it’s true. I heard it’s with Miss Li, who has long been in love with the Autumn Leaf Wanderer. Now that Shaoqing has returned and met her, he seems to like her too.”
Feng Wuhen’s lips curved into a smile. He thought unkindly, *That’s great news.” He really didn’t want to hear that Shen Molan and Chen Shaoqing had become a pair in the martial world.
“And what about Molan?”
Ying You’s smile faded. “I’m not sure about Young Master Shen’s whereabouts.”
Feng Wuhen nodded. “Could you help me find Molan and invite him to Feng Manor? Let me know before he sets out, so I can be prepared.”
Ying You hesitated, clenching and unclenching his fists before asking, “Should I tell Young Master Shen about your illness?”
Feng Wuhen smiled and resolutely replied, “Absolutely not.”
He wanted to meet Shen Molan again, looking as healthy and proud as always. He couldn’t let Molan know he was on the brink of death. After all, no one had anticipated the backlash from the antidote for Wang Hun Yin, and he didn’t want Molan to find out how much he had sacrificed. He didn’t want to appear pitiful, nor did he want Molan to carry a lifetime of guilt for him.
Moreover, sympathy and guilt—those were things that someone as proud as Feng Wuhen did not need.
Ying You was silent for a moment before finally responding, “Understood.”