The main hall of the Shen Manor was called Hall of Prudent Virtue.
The horizontal plaque bore calligraphy by their ancestor, roughly meaning: generation after generation of the Shen family act cautiously and uphold morality.
As two manservants “escorted” Shen Xian inside, he thought the plaque ought to be renamed Hall of Shifting Blame.
Bright lanterns lit the hall.
Household head Shen Heling sat in the main seat, in his fifties with a goatee.
His face was longer than a door bolt.
Seated on the left was Madam Liu, in her forties, well‑preserved, wearing an expression of fake benevolence.
Standing on the right was a young man in his early twenties, clad in rich brocade robes: the legitimate eldest son Shen Yaozu.
At that moment he held a teacup, not daring to lift his eyes.
The words “guilty conscience” practically stamped across his forehead.
“Ungrateful son.” Shen Heling opened with condemnation.
“Do you know your crime?”
“Master, I do not.” Shen Xian cupped his hands, posture humble yet tone unflinching.
“I was dragged and bound to the firewood shed without a full night’s sleep, and crimes descended upon me out of thin air.”
“Insolent!” Shen Heling slammed his palm against the table.
“Caught red‑handed, and you still claim wrongful treatment?”
“Master,” Shen Xian spoke calmly.
“Let us settle accounts before passing sentence.”
“Settle accounts?”
“The Red Spirit Ginseng vanished three days ago.
Why have you kept it quiet?
It was meant for Magistrate Wang’s birthday celebration.
If word leaks out, people will not mock the thief —‑‑ they will mock the Shen family.
If we cannot even safeguard birthday gifts for the county magistrate, our family reputation becomes nothing but a joke.”
Shen Heling’s face darkened.
The remark struck home.
For three days he had sealed off news; no one could enter or leave the manor, terrified of leaks.
“If you send me to officials tomorrow,” Shen Xian continued, “the magistrates will ask: the thief stole the ginseng, so where is it?
Answer: under my pillow.
Next question: if it was hidden there, why did he not sell it quickly?
Answer: because he was stupid.
Master, think on this.
Even if they brand me a thief, who ends up humiliated?”
Silence hung in the hall for a heartbeat.
Sensing danger, Madam Liu dabbed the corner of her eye with a handkerchief.
“Master, pay no heed to his glib words.
Iron‑clad evidence caught him red‑handed.
Send him to the authorities quickly and be done with him.
Every extra day he stays brings more trouble.”
She is growing desperate.
Shen Xian mentally noted that, yet spoke politely.
“Mother, that is strange.
The real thief is still at large, yet you rush to pass judgment.
Are you afraid of an investigation, or are you certain an investigation will uncover something?”
“You —‑‑” Madam Liu nearly dropped her handkerchief.
“Enough.” Shen Heling raised a hand and fixed his gaze on Shen Xian.
“You claim you can solve this case.
What grounds do you have?”
“Three points.” Shen Xian held up three fingers.
“First: I was framed.
I am the only innocent person in this household, and the innocent see clearest.
Second: the thief slipped stolen goods under my pillow, meaning he dared not smuggle the ginseng out of town to sell it.
Most likely it remains within Qinghe County.
Third —‑‑”
He paused and scanned the room.
“Third: the thief believes I am doomed.
When someone thinks their opponent is finished, they grow careless.
Carelessness breeds mistakes.
Every mistake he makes gives me a lead.”
Shen Yaozu’s teacup trembled in his hands, spilling two drops of tea.
Oh?
Shen Xian observed everything, adding another note about his legitimate brother, his face betraying nothing.
Shen Heling pondered for a long moment.
“Your time limit.”
“One day.
From tonight until tomorrow night.”
“And if you uncover nothing?”
“I will sign a written confession of guilt.
I shall not cry for mercy, nor implicate anyone else.” Shen Xian added: “But if I find the truth —‑‑ stolen goods, real culprit, and full story laid before you.
You must grant me one thing: restore my name and give me justice.”
Shen Heling stared long at this illegitimate son.
This boy who once dared barely lift his head in his presence now stood straight‑backed in the hall, eyes burning bright like two small lanterns.
“So be it.” Shen Heling waved his hand.
“Untie him.
Wangcai, Laifu, follow him.
While he investigates, no one within the manor may obstruct him.”
Madam Liu grew anxious.
“Master —‑‑”
“Woman, hold your tongue.” Shen Heling swept his sleeves and walked away.
Three people remained in the hall.
Madam Liu shot Shen Xian a venomous glare before leaving, supported by her maid.
Shen Yaozu lingered last.
As he passed Shen Xian, he lowered his voice.
“Third Brother, know your place.
Some things ought not to be touched.”
Shen Xian gave him a bright smile.
“Eldest Brother speaks true.
Especially other people’s pillows —‑‑ never touch them casually.”
Shen Yaozu’s face stiffened.
He flung his sleeves and stormed off.
He is rattled.
Step one: accomplished.