TYSUF – Chapter 4 Half a Cup of Wine Tonight (1)

No matter how many years of Western education she had received, deep in the quiet corners of her heart still lived the girl she had been at ten or so years old—sitting in a countryside house in Guangdong, holding a book in her hands, watching her second and fourth brothers play chess. That girl was hidden in the depths of her memory, rarely appearing in Shen Xi’s daily life. But the moment Fu Tongwen appeared out of nowhere, she emerged too, carrying herself with the same graceful elegance as before.

Shen Xi lowered her gaze and softly called, “Third Master.”

Fu Tongwen’s eyes flickered slightly as he responded, “Just call me Third Brother when we’re outside.” Then, turning to the people beside him, he instructed, “This is not Beijing—address her as Miss Shen.”

That simple “Third Brother” subtly closed the distance between them.

“I was studying with classmates last night and only returned at dawn, so I was late,” she explained.

Fu Tongwen rested his chin on his hand and smiled. “I know.”

Know what?

That she was devoted to her studies, or that she had been studying with classmates last night?

The doctor, an acquaintance, stepped forward with a smile and extended his right hand. “Miss Shen.”

Shen Xi’s thoughts were still adrift, and she failed to respond in time. The doctor, finding it awkward to withdraw his hand, hesitated.

By the time she came back to her senses, she only felt more embarrassed.

“Qingxiang, do you know why she’s ignoring you?” Fu Tongwen teased with a faint smile, helping to resolve the awkward moment. “It’s proper etiquette for a lady to extend her hand first. I think you’ve forgotten yourself.”

The bespectacled man standing beside Fu Tongwen chuckled. “Exactly! And to think you studied abroad with us,” he said in a playful tone. “Miss Shen, quickly lower your hand and put him on the spot.”

Lower her hand? She didn’t quite understand.

“Yes, let’s see it! We’ve never seen him give a proper hand-kiss before. Let us witness it for once.”

Amidst the good-natured laughter, Shen Xi finally understood what they meant. Instinctively, she clasped both hands behind her back, as if afraid the doctor might actually attempt a hand-kissing gesture.

The doctor had already been embarrassed, and now, seeing her recoil so obviously, he could only smile bitterly. Frustrated, he rolled up his sleeves as if preparing to fight. “You young masters from noble families just love to tease girls.”

The bespectacled man shot a glance at Fu Tongwen. “Qingxiang, you’re mistaken again. Third Master prefers the company of beauties—he doesn’t enjoy teasing respectable young ladies, especially not one who’s family.”

Laughter rippled through the group once more.

Fu Tongwen paid no mind to their words and didn’t bother refuting them either. Instead, he remarked, “You people shouldn’t bully Tan Qingxiang just because he’s honest and doesn’t talk much. He’s got a sharp mind—like the hidden wisdom in Spring and Autumn Annals.”

The bespectacled man immediately made a mock salute. “Brother Tan, my apologies.”

The doctor could only shake his head in exasperation. “Forget it, I can’t win against you all.”

Amidst the laughter filling the room, Shen Xi quietly gazed at him.

The bespectacled man noticed and subtly shifted his elbow resting on the table, intentionally brushing against Fu Tongwen’s forearm. With a teasing smile, he gave him a knowing glance—reminding him that his “sister-in-law” was watching him.

Fu Tongwen lifted his gaze, and the moment he did, Shen Xi immediately lowered her head, staring at the high-heeled leather shoes on her feet.

A perfectly innocent glance, yet in the eyes of these wealthy young men, it had turned into a silent exchange, a gaze filled with unspoken words and bashful restraint.

Back then, the rumors about Fourth Young Madam and Third Master Fu had been swirling—some true, some false—but everyone had heard a bit of it. Seeing them together today only fueled their curiosity, as if they were watching a scandal unfold before their eyes. Could it be that the marriage was merely a façade?

The young masters chuckled knowingly, each keeping their own thoughts to themselves.

The bespectacled man straightened up in his seat and asked, “Miss Shen, how did you first meet Third Master?”

“I…”

Shen Xi was caught off guard. Why ask about Third Master? Shouldn’t the question be how she met Fourth Master?

Fu Tongwen, unwilling to let them pry any further, cut the conversation short. “That’s enough. Time to leave.”

It was a dismissal.

Since the host had spoken, no one lingered any longer. They tactfully took their leave. As they departed, someone leaned in and murmured to Fu Tongwen, complaining that the women in this place were too uninhibited—there was plenty of noise and excitement but none of those breathtaking beauties who could captivate the soul with a single glance. The man then asked about Fu Tongwen’s return date, but Fu Tongwen gave an ambiguous response, waving him away impatiently.

In the end, only a few remained—Fu Tongwen, the doctor, a servant who had accompanied them from home, and a young man of about the same age as Shen Xi.

At the far end of the second-floor corridor, an empty room had been tidied up and prepared. Fu Tongwen went inside to rest, and at his silent indication, Shen Xi followed closely behind.

The doctor administered an injection and carefully wrapped the used needle and medicine vial in wastepaper before taking them outside. Shen Xi wanted to catch a glimpse of what kind of medication it was, but she never got the chance.

Now, only the two of them remained in the room.

Fu Tongwen sat by the window at the bedside table, flipping through yesterday’s newspaper.

“This morning, I received a letter from Third Brother,” Shen Xi stood before him like a student awaiting an assessment. “It was dated July 7th. You wrote that you planned to go to England.”

Fu Tongwen put down the newspaper, lost in thought.

“I also wrote to you in July, asking whether I should continue my studies.” Shen Xi recalled how, as a child, when she swung too high on a swing, there would be a moment where her heart felt like it had floated up, weightless and unanchored—that was exactly how she felt now. “You never replied, and I couldn’t afford to wait any longer, so I’ve already chosen a new course of study.”

She had more to say, but before she could continue, Fu Tongwen raised his hand, silently cutting her off.

“War has broken out in Europe. It hasn’t affected London yet, but I feared that if the fighting dragged on, it would be difficult to leave. So, I came here first.”

Shen Xi let out a soft “Ah” and said, “Yes, I heard there’s a war over there.”

No matter how naive she was, she wouldn’t assume that Third Master had come all this way just to see her.

What Fu Tongwen mentioned had been in the newspapers, and her classmates often discussed it.

The conflict had begun in Serbia, dragging Germany, Austria-Hungary, Britain, France, and Russia into the war. At the time, she hadn’t realized how much worse it would become. Years later, people would call it the Great War—World War I, the war that eventually sent Fu Tongwen to New York, placing him right in front of her. If not for this war, he wouldn’t have traveled all the way to England, nor would he have rushed to America. Naturally, everything that followed would never have happened. Fate had a way of playing tricks on people—but for once, this one turned out to be a good thing.

“Did the war delay your trip to England?” she asked.

“I was going there for treatment,” Fu Tongwen said matter-of-factly. “Going to America serves the same purpose.”

Shen Xi nodded. “It’s good that you came here. The doctors here are excellent as well.”

Another foolish remark.

Silence filled the room.

Fu Tongwen lowered his gaze, flipped the newspaper to the back page, folded it neatly, and held it in both hands as he read.

Under the dim light of the desk lamp, Shen Xi quietly studied how he had changed over the past three years. He had lost more weight, and his face looked sharper. As a child, her own cheeks had been round and chubby, giving her a doll-like face. That was why she found slender, softly defined features more appealing. But, of course, Third Master’s appearance was not for her to judge.

Without looking up from his newspaper, Fu Tongwen suddenly said, “Come here at nine tonight. I have something to tell you.”

She blurted out, “Tonight?”

Fu Tongwen did not deny it.

At dinnertime, Wan Feng and Gu Yiren finally appeared.

Having lived under the same roof for years, the three of them had gotten used to chatting idly during dinner. But tonight was different. Only the faint clinking of bowls and chopsticks broke the silence. Each of them carried their own thoughts, yet they all pretended nothing was amiss.

Despite their close friendship, Wan Feng had never mentioned why she had come to take care of her, just as Shen Xi had never explained her own reasons—partly because it was a matter of life and death, and partly because she feared implicating Fu Tongwen.

By 8:30, Shen Xi had flipped through her notes several times, unable to focus.

Nine o’clock was an awkward time—late but not too late. They were usually still awake then. If Wan Feng or Gu Yiren happened to see her, it might disrupt whatever business Fu Tongwen had.

She suddenly remembered a bag of dried longan hidden in the kitchen cabinet, something she had been saving for extra nourishment before exams. But thinking about how Fu Tongwen had crossed the ocean to get here, she felt he deserved it more.

It was also a convenient excuse to see him.

Without further hesitation, Shen Xi went to the kitchen, retrieved the bag of dried longan, and found some eggs. Following a method she recalled, she started cooking them together.

As the water in the pot heated up, she kept glancing at the clock in the living room. Her mind was on the fire, yet not on the fire—so much so that she nearly let the longan boil dry. She hurriedly poured them into a bowl, then checked the grandfather clock again. Two minutes to nine.

Placing a cloth underneath the bowl, she carefully carried it upstairs, taking slow, deliberate steps.

When she reached the door, she was surprised to find no one standing guard.

“Third Brother,” she called softly.

The door opened.

To her surprise, it was Wan Feng.

Wan Feng wasn’t surprised at all. She took the bowl from Shen Xi’s hands with a smile and teased softly, “Looks like you only save the good stuff for Third Master.”

Shen Xi couldn’t quite grasp the situation and stayed silent as she followed Wan Feng into the room.

Inside the study, it wasn’t just Wan Feng—Gu Yiren was also there. He stood before Fu Tongwen like a respectful junior, with none of his usual playfulness, his posture proper and composed.

The sweet aroma of the simmered longan quickly filled the air. Wan Feng placed the bowl on the table and said, “This was Shen Xi’s private stash. She never lets us touch it, saying she’s saving it to boost her energy before exams.”

Fu Tongwen glanced at the floating egg blossoms on the surface of the broth. “You only made one bowl?”

Shen Xi felt guilty. “I didn’t know they would be here too.”

Gu Yiren and Wan Feng exchanged a look and laughed.

Fu Tongwen pondered for a moment, then calmly picked up the bowl. “All three of you, sit.”

The other two didn’t hesitate, dragging chairs over as they agreed.

With Fu Tongwen already seated, the remaining three each took a chair—except there was one chair short. Naturally, neither Wan Feng nor Gu Yiren dared to sit on the bed. They settled into their seats as if nothing was amiss, while Shen Xi, already uneasy about the unexpected company, became even more awkward when she realized there wasn’t a chair for her.

She hesitated, debating whether to squeeze in next to Wan Feng, but worried it might seem disrespectful to Fu Tongwen.

“I’ll go get another chair,” she finally decided.

Fu Tongwen didn’t seem to mind. He gestured toward the brass bed. “Sit on the bed.”

Shen Xi hesitated, but since everyone was waiting for her, she couldn’t afford to be too reserved. Reluctantly, she sat down—though only on the very edge, unwilling to fully settle in.

Before this conversation started, Shen Xi had assumed they would be discussing art, literature, or refined pastimes. She hadn’t expected the topic to turn to their academic studies.

As Fu Tongwen questioned Wan Feng and Gu Yiren, the two answered respectfully, and Shen Xi gradually picked up on the underlying stories behind their words.

Most Chinese students who had come to study in America over the past few years were recipients of the Boxer Indemnity Scholarship. Only a rare few were privately funded by their families.

Gu Yiren had once expressed mixed emotions about this scholarship’s origins. The Eight-Nation Alliance had ravaged China, yet in the end, it was China that had to pay reparations. The Chinese ambassador to the U.S. had lobbied to reclaim a portion of the indemnity, and America had agreed to refund some of the funds—on the condition that they be used to educate Chinese students in the U.S. This led to the establishment of Tsinghua Academy and the first government-sponsored overseas students.

As Gu Yiren spoke, his expression was complicated—both grateful for the opportunity to study and sorrowful for the hardships his country had endured.

Shen Xi naturally assumed that Gu Yiren was one of the Boxer Indemnity Scholarship recipients. Wan Feng, on the other hand, carried a more Westernized air, leading Shen Xi to believe she must have been privately funded by her family.

But tonight, her assumptions were completely overturned.

Wan Feng was actually the daughter of a minor official from the late Qing dynasty, whose father had been convicted and exiled to the frontier. Gu Yiren was the descendant of a reformist who had been executed during the Hundred Days’ Reform.

Both of them had been sponsored by Fu Tongwen and sent here to study.

Just like her.

Perhaps the only difference was that, given her precarious situation, Third Master had gone so far as to grant her the status of a member of the Fu family.

Yet, from beginning to end, Fu Tongwen never explicitly stated that her identity was merely a disguise, a means of protection. Since he didn’t bring it up, Shen Xi remained silent as well, simply listening as Wan Feng and Gu Yiren expressed their gratitude for Third Master’s support, crediting him for their opportunities and achievements.

In their eyes, Shen Xi was still the Fourth Young Madam of the Fu family.

After Wan Feng and Gu Yiren finished reporting on their studies, Fu Tongwen lightly tapped the ceramic bowl in front of him with the back of his hand.

“Has it gone cold?” Wan Feng asked.

Fu Tongwen shook his head and asked Shen Xi, “Do you have a spoon?”

Shen Xi immediately stood up. “I’ll go get one.”

Fu Tongwen pushed himself up from the table and stood as well. “Sitting for too long makes one weary.”

So, the two of them headed to the kitchen together, with Shen Xi carrying the bowl of simmered longan.

Wan Feng and Gu Yiren, considering themselves “family,” decided not to disturb them further and returned to their rooms.

Under the light, Shen Xi found a spoon, placed it into the porcelain bowl, and handed it to him.

Fu Tongwen leaned against a clean spot and stirred the longan with the spoon. “The last time I had this, I wasn’t even ten years old.”

Shen Xi hadn’t expected him to engage in casual conversation with her and replied somewhat vaguely, “I last had it when I was in Guangdong.”

Fu Tongwen looked around with interest. “Earlier this evening, you mentioned wanting to eat something Chinese. What was it?”

He actually remembered that remark.

“I bought a pot recently and wanted to make Yi Pin Guo. Have you heard of it? You layer the ingredients inside—pork knuckle, chicken, and vegetables from top to bottom. But since I’ve studied agriculture here, I know the vegetable varieties are different from those in China, so I might have to use alternatives. The meats, at least, are the same,” Shen Xi sighed. “I only realized after coming here that whether Westerners or Chinese, we all eat the same kinds of meat. The livestock are the same.”

“Did you think the cows here would have six legs?” Fu Tongwen asked dryly.

Shen Xi silently acknowledged her own foolishness and continued, “Anyway, a fellow student told me that over here, they just call it a stew. They said back home, the pots are about this big.”

She gestured with both hands, indicating a diameter of roughly two feet.

“Is it similar to stir-fried mixed vegetables?” Fu Tongwen guessed, thinking of a Cantonese dish.

“No, the one I’m talking about is boiled. When it’s served, the water is still bubbling.”

A young voice outside the door, unable to hold back any longer, interjected stiffly, “In my hometown, we call that Quan Jia Fu—‘Family Fortune Pot.’ It’s nothing rare. You can even add clams and eggs, mixing meat and vegetables depending on the region.” Then, while Fu Tongwen was lowering his head to take a bite of longan, the voice dropped to a level only Shen Xi could hear. “Third Master has had it before.”

So that was it.

Fu Tongwen had known all along what she was talking about, yet he had humored her and played along, even pretending to misunderstand.

Shen Xi pressed her lips together in a faint smile.

“Why did you stop talking?” Fu Tongwen turned to look at her.

“Third Brother…”

“What is it?” Fu Tongwen tilted his head slightly, listening intently.

But it was precisely this attentive posture, this gesture of accommodating her words, that made her swallow back what she was about to say.

The lamp cast a dim, flickering glow—his eyes were the same.