BDSMST -Chapter 58 Shen Qinghe’s True Identity

The Old Madam’s visit and departure were like a stone tossed into a lake—ripples of joy spread through the estate, yet soon enough, life returned to its proper course.

With the treasury keys of the Marquis of Yongning’s Household—effectively an “unlimited withdrawal order”—Jiang Suisui now had unprecedented access to funds. She immediately instructed Steward Fu to transfer a large group of experienced craftsmen and high-quality materials from the capital.

Construction of the greenhouses accelerated in full force.

The entire estate buzzed with the energy of rapid development.

That evening, after finishing the day’s accounting, Jiang Suisui was about to check on dinner preparations when Shen Qinghe called out to her in the courtyard.

“Madam, may I have a word in private?”

He stood in the fading glow of sunset, dressed in his washed-out blue robe. Though still slender, his brows now carried a gravity she had not seen before.

Jiang Suisui paused and nodded.

They walked one after another toward the quiet orchard at the back hill.

In late autumn, most of the leaves had fallen. A thick layer carpeted the ground, rustling softly underfoot.

“Speak freely, Mister Shen,” Jiang Suisui said, stopping beneath an apple tree.

Shen Qinghe was silent for a moment, as though organizing his thoughts. Then he bowed deeply—more solemnly than ever before.

“Madam, there is something I have concealed until now. Today, I must confess it.”

Jiang Suisui waited calmly.

“Shen Qinghe is not my real name. My surname… is Xie. My given name is Zi’an.” He slowly raised his head, sorrow flickering in his eyes. “My father is Xie Yuan, formerly the Left Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate.”

Jiang Suisui recognized the name.

Xie Yuan had been a famed upright official in court—known for his incorruptibility and fearless impeachment of powerful figures. He had earned many enemies among the elite, yet great respect among scholars and commoners alike.

But a year ago, the iron-faced censor had been implicated in a shocking treason case.

It was said that secret letters between him and a northern enemy general had been discovered in his residence. The letters detailed troop deployments and grain transport routes for the northern frontier.

With evidence and witnesses presented, the emperor had been enraged.

If not for the intercession of several grand secretaries and senior ministers—and Xie Yuan’s past merits—he would likely have faced execution along with his entire clan.

In the end, Xie Yuan was stripped of all official titles and exiled three thousand li to a desolate frontier. The Xie family estate was confiscated, and his descendants were reduced to commoner status, barred from ever holding office again.

Overnight, the once-glorious Censor’s residence collapsed.

“You are Censor Xie’s son?” Jiang Suisui finally asked.

“Yes.” Xie Zi’an—formerly Shen Qinghe—gave a bitter smile. “After my father’s downfall, enemies surrounded us. My younger sister and I had no choice but to change our names and flee. Had we not encountered you in Woniu Village, we might already be two skeletons by the roadside.”

His eyes reddened faintly.

“My father was framed,” he said, voice heavy with restrained fury. “He was loyal and incorruptible all his life. He would never commit treason. Those letters were forged.”

“It all happened too quickly. Our enemies were thoroughly prepared—step by step, leaving us no chance to defend ourselves. From the discovery of the letters to the imperial decree of conviction—three days. By the time we understood what was happening, everything was already decided.”

“For the past year, I have hidden while secretly investigating. I swore to find evidence—to clear my father’s name and restore my family’s honor.”

Jiang Suisui listened quietly.

A dismissed official’s son, wandering with his young sister under pursuit, seeking evidence to overturn a conviction—one could only imagine the hardship.

No wonder, when she first met them, they had been in such a desperate state. Shen Qingyue had been close to death.

“Have you found any leads?” she asked.

Xie Zi’an shook his head, dejection flickering across his face.

“Our enemies are meticulous. I only know that the faction framing my father is powerful within the court. They forged the letters and planted accomplices within the army to fabricate the illusion of a military defeat—blaming everything on my father’s so-called leak.”

“My father had repeatedly impeached Minister of War Qin Song for embezzling military funds and supplying inferior goods. I suspect he is involved. But Qin Song has even greater backers behind him. I cannot approach him.”

He looked at Jiang Suisui earnestly.

“Madam, I know this matter is perilous. Once entangled, it could mean utter ruin. I do not expect you to help me. I only reveal my identity today because I can no longer accept your kindness under false pretenses.”

“Tomorrow, I will take my sister and leave the estate. Your great benevolence will never be forgotten. If someday my father’s name is cleared, I will repay you—even if only in the smallest measure.”

He assumed that upon learning his identity—and the blood-deep vendetta he carried—she would distance herself to avoid trouble for the estate and the Marquis of Yongning’s Household.

That would be only natural.

But Jiang Suisui’s next words made him freeze.

“Forged letters. Military collusion. A staged defeat…” she murmured, brow slightly furrowed. “Which battle preceded your father’s downfall?”

Though puzzled, Xie Zi’an answered immediately:

“It was early autumn last year—the Battle of Heishiguan in the northern frontier.”