HBWMA -Chapter 364 The Boys and the Boy

Their gazes met, currents of tension flowing beneath the surface.

Shen Qingyu lifted his eyelids slightly and smiled, raising a hand to release his hold on Shen Guiling.

Really can’t underestimate this bastard at all.

Shen Guiling brushed off his shoulder, pushed Shen Qingyu away with one hand, and walked straight past him without sparing him a glance.

Shen Qingyu watched his retreating figure disappear into the night, the emotions in his eyes unreadable.

“Young Master, are you alright?”

Shen Qingyu withdrew his gaze and lazily shot Gu He a sidelong look. “What could possibly be wrong with me?”

Gu He was at a loss for words. Picking fights like a hedgehog all night—and that’s ‘fine’?

Shen Qingyu’s expression darkened as he turned and headed toward the inner courtyard. After only a few steps, a figure suddenly darted out from behind the hanging flower gate.

“Qingyu!”

Shen Yuan had been waiting in the inner courtyard for quite a while. Having finally caught this rebellious son, he immediately jumped out, beaming with excitement.

In stark contrast to Shen Yuan’s enthusiasm, Shen Qingyu remained cold. “Out here in the middle of the night pretending to be a ghost—who are you trying to scare?”

“…” Shen Yuan’s grin froze instantly. Suppressing his temper, he said, “You don’t answer your phone, no one can find you. If I don’t come see you myself, will you even remember you have a father?”

Shen Qingyu replied, “Now that I’ve seen you, I feel even less like acknowledging it.”

“…” Shen Yuan clutched his chest in anger. He should’ve taken a heart-protecting pill before coming to see this unfilial brat.

Shen Qingyu lifted his foot to leave, then suddenly thought of something and hesitated slightly. “Did you come up with some scheme again?”

He had one, but after being irritated like this, Shen Yuan didn’t feel like mentioning it anymore. He waved his hand. “Forget it, forget it! We’re not on the same side anyway. From now on, I won’t bother telling you about Third Branch matters.”

Shen Qingyu paused, his gaze sharpening. “Third Branch? What happened to them?”

Shen Yuan looked around, then leaned in with a serious expression. “I went back and thought it over, and finally figured out why you opposed Shanshan being adopted into the Third Branch.”

“…?” Shen Qingyu’s brow twitched, his eyes dark. “You… you figured it out?”

Shen Yuan stared at him, then patted his shoulder like a loving father. “A father knows his son best. How could I not understand your thoughts? You’re—”

Shen Qingyu lightly rubbed his fingertips, a chilling, almost murderous glint flickering in his eyes.

“You’re worried that if Shanshan becomes too favored in the Third Branch, it’ll be disadvantageous for our Second Branch! Am I right?”

“….” Shen Qingyu let out a laugh of exasperation. “Right.”

“I knew I wasn’t wrong about you.” Shen Yuan nodded, deeply satisfied, then sighed. “Don’t worry. Shen Jiao’s wishful thinking is about to fall apart.”

Shen Qingyu finally gave him a proper look. “What happened?”

Shen Yuan said, “We just got word—Fu Jiaming committed suicide out of fear of punishment. To preserve his bloodline, the Fu family is now demanding the Shen family return Sui’er. So forget about changing surnames—even who gets custody of Sui’er is uncertain now.”

Fu Jiaming is dead?

Shen Qingyu immediately sensed something off. “What about Shanshan?”

Shen Yuan replied, “Sui’er’s situation alone is enough to give Shen Jiao a headache. She probably doesn’t have the energy to deal with the adoption right now. And if she acknowledges Shanshan at this moment, the Fu family might seize on it as leverage—she might even lose custody of Sui’er.”

Shen Qingyu neither agreed nor disagreed, turning to leave.

“Wait! I’m not done yet!” Shen Yuan grabbed him. “I came to discuss something with you—why don’t we take this opportunity to bring Shanshan over to us? Shen Jiao can’t adopt her, but I can. How about I get you a little sister?”

Shen Qingyu paused, then raised his eyelids to glance at Shen Yuan. “Shen Yuan, you’d better behave. If you don’t stir up trouble, you might still have a son to see you off in your old age.”

“Ah… what?” Shen Yuan frowned, confused. “What do you mean stir up trouble? I’m your father, I—”

His reply was nothing but a back view colder than winter water.

—

Qinyuan Tea Room

The warm glow of lights filled the room, and the scent of incense lingered in the air.

Shen Zhuang handed a purple sandalwood box to Shen Lanxi. “Open it and take a look.”

Shen Lanxi accepted the box with both hands, undid the silver clasp, and opened it. Inside lay a finely crafted semi-automatic pistol.

His gaze froze for a moment. After a brief silence, he looked up at Shen Zhuang. “This is… your golden gun?”

Shen Zhuang nodded. “I’ve already submitted the paperwork. From now on, it officially belongs to you.”

Shen Lanxi lowered his head, his fingertips gently tracing the surface of the gun.

Shen Zhuang said, “I know you’ve always wanted to carry on your father’s honor. The serial number of that golden gun was given to Shanshan, so you no longer have it. Any regrets?”

Shen Lanxi shook his head, meeting Shen Zhuang’s gaze directly. “No regrets.”

For someone naturally indifferent and detached to say those three words, it had clearly taken a long time. Shen Zhuang felt warmth in his chest and wiped the corner of his eye. “Good. As long as you don’t regret it. This is your reward, Lanxi—you did well this time.”

Shen Lanxi closed the box, a warm glow reflecting in his eyes. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

Gao Zhi stood guard outside Qinyuan. Seeing Shen Lanxi come out, he hurried over. “Young Master, how did it go? Did the old master find out? He didn’t punish you, did he?”

Holding the wooden box, Shen Lanxi didn’t even glance at him and walked straight past.

As they passed through the inner courtyard corridor and by Juyuan, Shen Lanxi couldn’t help but glance over. The lights in the embroidered tower were still on.

Gao Zhi followed his gaze. “Miss Jiang must be opening her gifts right now.”

Shen Lanxi’s eyes shifted slightly. As if thinking of something, he suddenly quickened his pace.

Entering Lanyuan, he went straight to the study. After searching around and failing to find what he wanted, he finally deigned to look at Gao Zhi. “Where are the gifts I received in previous years?”

“Gifts?” Gao Zhi’s eyes flickered. “Wh-what gifts?”

Shen Lanxi received mountains of birthday gifts every year, but he never cared about such social exchanges. Gao Zhi had always handled them.

And for Gao Zhi, it was a goldmine—just reselling Shen Lanxi’s gifts each year brought in a fortune.

Wait… didn’t the young master never bother with such trivial matters? He’d been selling them for three years—why suddenly ask now?

The money’s already gone.

Shen Lanxi’s expression darkened. “Selling outsiders’ gifts is one thing—did you sell the family’s gifts too?”

Alarm bells went off in Gao Zhi’s head. Family? What family? Didn’t this useless young master always treat himself as a lone wolf?

Seeing Shen Lanxi’s expression worsening, Gao Zhi suddenly had a flash of inspiration. “They’re in the storage room!”

He remembered—Miss Jiang’s gifts were too cheap to fetch a good price, so he had tossed them into storage.

Shen Lanxi’s expression eased slightly. “Bring them here.”

“Yes!” Gao Zhi wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. Good thing he thought fast.

Before long, Gao Zhi returned carrying three exquisitely wrapped gift boxes.

The silk on the boxes had already faded, and the dust on them had just been brushed off by Gao Zhi.

Shen Lanxi took the boxes and examined them. “That’s all?”

Gao Zhi pulled out a yellowed talisman from his pocket. “Since your return, you’ve only had three birthdays. No more, no less—three gifts.”

Don’t try to claim extras.

Shen Lanxi said nothing. With a hint of anticipation, he opened the largest box.

As the lid lifted, what came into view… was an utterly ordinary meditation cushion.

The meditation cushion was woven from straw; after years without sunlight, it had developed patches of mold.

“……”

Gao Zhi carefully observed Shen Lanxi’s expression, but Shen Lanxi only paused for a moment before opening the slightly smaller brocade box with anticipation.

The second box contained a set of wooden fish percussion instruments.

“……”

Shen Lanxi looked at the cushion, then at the wooden fish. It wasn’t until he opened the third gift box and found copies of the Heart Sutra, the Diamond Sutra, and the Infinite Life Sutra that he finally let out a helpless laugh.

He had gone to Qingxu Temple, not Tianzhu Temple. Qingxu Temple was for cultivating one’s character and strengthening one’s will—not for becoming a monk.

“Clean up the cushion,” Shen Lanxi said, picking up the talisman on the table.

This talisman had been a “welcome home” gift from Jiang Huashan when he first returned to Shen Garden. If he remembered correctly, she had said she drew it herself.

A faint ripple stirred in Shen Lanxi’s heart as he gently wiped the dust off the talisman paper.

It seemed that, at the beginning, she had indeed been quite thoughtful. Perhaps it was only later, when he had been too distant and unapproachable, that he made her dislike him.

She drew it herself?

What did she draw?

Curiosity rose in Shen Lanxi as he opened the corner of the talisman.

On the yellowed paper were three bold characters: “Go away, go away, go away!”

“……”

At that time, in Bamboo Garden.

The white window gauze swayed gently, and the phone by the bedside buzzed with vibration.

A long, slender hand casually tapped the screen. Droplets of water from damp hair fell onto it, blurring two glaring words:

Bastard.

[Don’t forget your previous promise, you little bastard.]

Shen Guiling wiped his wet hair indifferently.

Yao Ge had finally run out of patience.

Back then, he had gone to great lengths to make Shen Qian trust him so he could enter Shen Garden. But his identity had always been a hidden danger, so he promised Yao Ge that as long as he got into Shen Garden and won the old master’s favor, he would find a way to help Shen Nian return to the country.

Yao Ge was vicious, but Shen Nian was her weakness. And if his identity were exposed, her murder of the real Shen Guiling would also come to light. After weighing the risks, she had reluctantly allowed him to continue living under Shen Guiling’s identity.

Shen Guiling’s expression remained cold as he swiped his finger and deleted the message.

This woman was already old—even her thinking had grown foolish. She actually believed he cared about being an illegitimate child of the Shen family. Without Shu Mu, who in this world would still care about Shen Guiling? If no one cared about that identity, what was there to cling to?

He suddenly thought of something, got up, and pushed open the balcony’s glass door. Across from him, the embroidered tower had just turned off its lights.

Under the night sky, the stars were dim, while the moonlight shone bright and clear.

The next day, Whale Harbor welcomed its first snowfall of winter.

“Aunt Zhang? It’s snowing?”

Jiang Huashan hurried excitedly down from the embroidered tower, only to find Shen Zhi and Zheng Song sitting in the courtyard. Upon seeing her, they immediately stood up to greet her. Only then did Jiang Huashan realize something and turn to look toward the main hall.

Shen Zhuang stood outside the door, smiling as he beckoned to her. “Xiao Hua.”

Jiang Huashan jogged over. “Grandpa, what brings you here?”

The main hall was heated. To add some winter atmosphere, Zhang Ru had even arranged for an English-style fireplace to be installed.

“I have something to talk to you about,” Shen Zhuang said.

Jiang Huashan nodded and followed him inside.

“Grandpa, what could be so important that you had to come in person?”

Shen Zhuang was silent for a moment, hesitating over how to begin, when Jiang Huashan spoke lightly, “Is there a problem with the adoption?”

In truth, she had already sensed something during the birthday banquet yesterday. If everything had gone smoothly, Shen Jiao would definitely have shared the news with her at the banquet.

“Fu Jiaming had an accident.”

Shen Zhuang briefly explained what had happened.

Jiang Huashan froze, shock filling her eyes.

How could this be?

In her previous life, before she left, Fu Jiaming had been perfectly fine. Could it be that by altering certain key events, she had changed the fates of other people as well?

At the thought, her emotions grew complicated. “What about Sui’er? Is she okay?”

Regardless of the grudges between the Fu and Shen families, Fu Jiaming was still Fu Sui’er’s biological father. This would undoubtedly be a heavy blow to her.

“The Fu family sent word, hoping that on the day of the funeral, Sui’er will attend and help carry the spirit tablet for Fu Jiaming. She’s already agreed,” Shen Zhuang said.

Jiang Huashan nodded. With Sui’er’s personality, no matter what, she would go see Fu Jiaming one last time.

Seeing that Jiang Huashan’s thoughts were entirely on Fu Sui’er, Shen Zhuang felt a wave of emotion. “Xiao Hua, about your adoption…”

“I understand.” Jiang Huashan smiled. “It’s alright. I can accept it.”

Seeing her so open-minded, without the slightest trace of resentment, Shen Zhuang sighed softly. “You really are just like your grandmother.”

Jiang Huashan was slightly surprised. This was already the second time her grandfather had spoken of her grandmother so openly in front of her.

Noticing her expression, Shen Zhuang smiled faintly. “Do you want to hear the story between your grandmother and me?”

“Yes.”

She truly wanted to know what kind of love could make her grandfather treat her—someone with no blood relation—with such sincerity.

In her previous life, he had never spoken about his past with her grandmother. Even then, she had vaguely guessed there must have been deep ties between them. She had even wondered if she might actually be his biological granddaughter—until he agreed to her marriage with Shen Lanxi, at which point she realized she had been overthinking.

“Speaking of your grandmother…”

A glimmer lit up Shen Zhuang’s eyes. He was already old and seldom thought back to his youth, but whenever he thought of Jiang Xin, those years in Huaicheng felt vividly alive again.

He had been the youngest and most favored legitimate son of the Shen family. His father had been a prime minister, and his older brothers—each a generation ahead—had been generals. Together, they upheld the peak prosperity of their branch of the Shen family. From a young age, he had no great ambitions. He loved making friends, traveling mountains and rivers. He had once spent a fortune to buy ten opera stages in pleasure houses, and had also once sat alone at the end of an alley, listening to the rain with an old yellow dog.

That year, the house at the end of the alley where he sat happened to be Jiang Xin’s home.

Holding a bamboo-handled umbrella, dressed in a light green robe, she opened the door, saw him and the big yellow dog drenched in the rain, and smiled as she invited them inside to take shelter.

Not only did she invite him—she invited the dog too.

It rained for an entire month that April in Huaicheng. He and the dog became frequent visitors to that house. Whenever it rained, the man and the dog would appear under the eaves, silently waiting for the homeowner to invite them in.

When luck was on their side, they would even be given a bowl of homemade Huaicheng sweet soup. The fragrance of aged osmanthus would linger throughout every rainy season of the rest of his life.

Later, he learned that the homeowner was named Jiang Xin. She was a renowned dan actress in Huaicheng’s opera troupe. Because a certain rich, foolish young dandy had spent a fortune booking ten opera stages, the troupe’s performances were packed every night, and her master had told her to take the opportunity to rest more.

After learning the reason, he spent another fortune—this time to book an entire month of Wu Song Fights the Tiger.