Meng Nanzhi raised her hand, wanting to pat his head.
She couldn’t reach.
Only then did she remember that her eldest son was already sixteen, nearly an adult.
Seeing this, Shen Yanxiu immediately bent down and placed his head under her hand, not forgetting to boast, “Mother, I’ve grown up. It’s my turn to protect you now.”
Meng Nanzhi chuckled and nodded. “Yes, my Xiu’er has grown up. It’s time for you to protect your mother.”
“Wait a moment.”
Shen Yanxiu lifted the carriage curtain and glanced outside. “Mother, don’t you love Nuoxiangju’s osmanthus cakes the most? I’ll go buy some for you.”
In just a short while, the young man returned with a box of pastries. “Mother, try it. See if the taste is the same as it was ten years ago.”
The boy’s eyes sparkled as he looked at her, his gaze pure and fervent, like stars bathed in morning dew, filled with a longing for affirmation.
With a heart full of complex emotions, Meng Nanzhi took a bite of the osmanthus cake under the boy’s astonishingly bright gaze.
It was sweet upon entering her mouth, yet carried an indescribable bitterness. “Yes, the taste is exactly the same as it was ten years ago.”
Shen Yanxiu also picked up a piece for himself, his voice choked with emotion. “After Mother left, I came here many times to eat osmanthus cakes, but they never tasted right. Today, eating them again, I realized the flavor of the pastries has never changed.”
Meng Zhengde also picked up a piece and sighed inwardly: Yes, the pastries haven’t changed, so why didn’t they taste like this before?
Moisture gathered in Meng Nanzhi’s eyes as a gentle smile spread across her face. She patted the boy’s head once more.
The carriage continued on its way. As the streets outside gradually returned to their bustling noise, silence settled inside the carriage.
Chewing on the pastry, Shen Yanxiu suddenly looked up at Meng Nanzhi, a trace of barely noticeable tension flickering between his brows.
He lowered his head again, fidgeting with his fingers, swallowed the pastry in his mouth, and then asked softly, “Now that Mother has returned, would you like to come back to the Marquis’s Mansion with me? Father has been searching for you for a long time. If he sees you, he’ll surely be as happy as I am.”
The rift between him and his father had all started with his mother’s drowning. Now that she had returned, he thought their family could finally return to normal.
Heng wouldn’t be disliked by Father as he always was.
Zhao wouldn’t angrily pull other people’s hair when they boasted about their mothers’ love, only to run to Mother’s memorial tablet and cry afterward.
No one would ever say again that he and his siblings had no mother to rely on.
The boy’s eyes were filled with hope and pleading, longing only for a family reunion.
Just as she, when she was young, had wished countless times that her mother, who had passed away from illness, would one day return safely.
A hint of complexity lingered in Meng Nanzhi’s eyes as she said softly, “Xiu’er, your father has taken a ping wife.”
To her eldest son, her absence had been ten years.
But to her, it had only been a fleeting moment.
Even the thousand-odd times she had jumped into the lake in her dazed state amounted to no more than a few dozen hours at most.
So, how could she possibly accept that Marquis Zhenbei, who had been loving toward her just the day before, had suddenly taken a ping wife?
She wanted to know how her children viewed Marquis Zhenbei and this ping wife, and how much affection they held for them.
“Does Mother not want Father to take a ping wife?”
Sensing his mother’s displeasure, Shen Yanxiu hurriedly explained, “Mother, even though Father has taken a ping wife, he has kept the position of principal wife for you. The title of Marchioness can only belong to you.”
Meng Nanzhi didn’t want to discuss this matter and instead asked, “How does this ping wife treat you?”
“Aunt Wan, she…”
Shen Yanxiu glanced up at his mother, who seemed unaware that the ping wife his father had married was Aunt Wan.
He then looked toward his maternal grandfather, seeing his eyes closed, and could only mutter in a low voice, "That ping wife treats me with some leniency, I suppose."
Leniency.
Upon hearing this, Meng Nanzhi's heart sank.
For these two words to come from the mouth of her unruly eldest son, it proved that this ping wife possessed the fine skills of an actress.
Meng Nanzhi felt a tumult of emotions. She closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again, there was not a ripple of disturbance in her gaze.
Turning to her eldest son, she wore a gentle smile on her face, her tone betraying neither joy nor anger. "Xiu'er, tell Mother, how exactly does she treat you with such leniency?"
Shen Yanxiu weighed his words carefully. "That ping wife has always been considerate and attentive toward me, very gentle. Whatever I desire, she never refuses, showing great affection. Unlike Father, who often dismisses my wishes outright."
Of course, the two deliberately contrasted each other—one playing the good cop, the other the bad cop.
A stepmother naturally gritted her teeth and pretended to be magnanimous.
It was precisely because she indulged the eldest son's every whim, never refusing him anything, that she fostered his current selfishness and future twisted mentality.
Meng Nanzhi was so furious she didn't want to speak.
Shen Yanxiu sensed he might have said something wrong but didn't know what it was. He could only brace himself and cautiously add, "Mother, the ping wife Father married is Aunt Wan."
Meng Nanzhi pretended not to know, secretly clenching her teeth. "Lin Wanrou?"
Just moments ago, she had been desperately trying to save her, and now she had married her own husband.
"That's right, Mother. Weren't you always on good terms with Aunt Wan before?"
Yes, precisely because it was her, she was furious.
But then Shen Yanxiu continued, "In the years you were gone, Aunt Wan treated us quite well. She agreed to whatever we wanted and even helped persuade Father on our behalf. When the Empress Dowager issued the decree, Aunt Wan was initially unwilling, but later, as if compelled by circumstances, she brought Zhengmei into the Marquis's Mansion."
After his mother's drowning, he had once resented her because Father saved Aunt Wan first.
But Aunt Wan knelt before him multiple times, confessing her guilt and even wanting to jump into the lake to exchange her life for his mother's return.
He was young at the time, remembering how well his mother had treated her.
So, though angry, he couldn't possibly ask her to die.
Moreover, no matter how harshly his younger siblings treated her, she always responded with courtesy, leaving no room for criticism.
Thus, when the Empress Dowager later arranged for Aunt Wan to become Father's ping wife, and Aunt Wan wept and protested at home, saying she was sorry to Mother and wanted to die to atone, while Father felt both heartache and protectiveness toward her—
He was truly saddened, feeling injustice on his mother's behalf, but he no longer resisted it to the point of death.
Never mind. Even without Aunt Wan, there would have been someone else.
Meng Nanzhi already understood her eldest son's mindset, but she had to grit her teeth and swallow the bitter resentment.
In front of her eldest son, she could only pretend not to mind, smiling as she asked, "Since Xiu'er believes she treats you well, Mother can rest assured. How are your brother Heng and sister Zhao now?"
Shen Yanxiu seemed to recall something, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes. To avoid worrying his mother or making her overthink, he simply stated his siblings' whereabouts. "Sister Zhao accompanied the Empress Dowager to the Summer Resort. Brother Heng went out traveling and will return in a few days."
Hah. Her second son was hardly traveling for leisure. It was because he couldn't stand the sight of that ping wife that Marquis Zhenbei had whipped him a few times, driving him to run away from home.
Fortunately, she knew that her second son's departure this time had not encountered any danger and that he would return within two days; otherwise, she would have long since stormed the Zhenbeihou Mansion.