Shen Jinghong didn’t move. He remained kneeling on the ground, his shoulders still trembling.
Liu Yunshuang walked over, bent down, and gently patted the back of his head.
“Jinghong,” her voice was soft, coaxing like she was speaking to a child who had done something wrong, “your father didn’t tell me all this so you’d feel guilty. He wanted you to understand that this marriage was never about whether you were worthy. It was about the Fu family exchanging sincerity for sincerity.”
Shen Jinghong lifted his head. His face was covered in tears his eyes red, his nose red, looking utterly miserable.
“Mother… I… can I still see her? Can I still marry her in this lifetime?”
Liu Yunshuang looked at him and was silent for a long time.
“I don’t know,” she finally said, shaking her head slightly. “Whether she is willing to see you is not something we can decide. The things you said today were deeply hurtful. She may not show it on the surface, but no one knows what she truly feels inside.”
She straightened and looked out at the sun slowly sinking in the west.
“The betrothal gifts haven’t been returned yet, which means the matter hasn’t reached its final step. But whether that last step is taken, and how it is taken, is no longer in your hands.”
Shen Jinghong remained kneeling, looking up at his mother, his eyes bloodshot.
“Then what should I do?”
Liu Yunshuang lowered her gaze to his disheveled face and let out a soft sigh.
“Get up first,” she said, reaching out to pull him up from the ground. “Go wash your face and change your clothes. There are still guests in the front hall. If you go out looking like this, where will your father put his face?”
Shen Jinghong let her pull him up, stumbling slightly before steadying himself. He wiped his face clumsily with his sleeve.
“And the letter…”
“The letter,” Liu Yunshuang interrupted, “we’ll wait until the Fu family sends it back. If it comes, then it’s truly over. If it doesn’t…”
She paused and glanced at Shen Dingjiang.
Shen Dingjiang had been standing by the window in silence for a long time before finally speaking.
“If it doesn’t,” he said, “then you’ll have to kneel all the way to the Fu residence.”
“But not now.” His voice was firm and blunt. “Not today. You’ve already driven them away. If you chase after them immediately, what would that look like? Let them calm down, and you calm down too. Tomorrow, we’ll talk.”
Shen Jinghong opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
“Listen to your father,” Liu Yunshuang said. “Stay quiet today and don’t cause any more trouble.”
Shen Jinghong closed his mouth and nodded obediently.
He turned to leave, took a few steps, then stopped and looked back.
“Father,” he said softly.
Shen Dingjiang looked at him.
“That scar… does it still hurt?”
Shen Dingjiang paused for a moment, then turned his face away and said gruffly, “It’s been twenty years. What would it hurt for? Get lost.”
Only Shen Dingjiang and Liu Yunshuang remained in the room.
Liu Yunshuang looked toward the doorway and remained silent for a long time before softly sighing.
“That child… he’s truly taken this to heart.”
Shen Dingjiang said nothing. He only stood by the window, staring at the cluster of green bamboo outside.
“The matter from twenty years ago,” Liu Yunshuang asked gently as she walked to his side, “why have you never told him?”
Shen Dingjiang was silent for a long time.
“There was nothing worth saying,” he said quietly. “Saving someone is what one should do it’s not something worth boasting about. Brother Fu remembered it for twenty years because he is a good man. I can’t use that kindness as leverage just because I once saved him.
As for this marriage… when I went to ask for it, it was because I thought Jinghong, though a bit of a mess, was not inherently bad. If Miss Fu married into our family, we would not mistreat her. Who would have thought…”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
Liu Yunshuang took his hand. His palm was rough like sandpaper, covered in calluses, the hand of someone who had held weapons for half a lifetime.
“General,” she said softly, “Jinghong will grow up.”