TYSUF – Chapter 60 Never Forget the Sanzu’s Suffering (3)

Master Fu crashed into the corner railing, collapsing into the stairwell’s corner. One of the concubines upstairs, who had some experience, screamed and directed the servants to grab the quilts from the private rooms, wrapping the burning, human-shaped shadow tightly. Soon, the flames were extinguished.

The young servants downstairs were summoned up, and together they carried the bundle—man and quilt—down to the first floor. As soon as the quilt was opened, the acrid smell of charred flesh struck fear into everyone’s hearts. The younger ones shrank back far away, while the older ones crowded forward.

Outside was chaos, but the seven men Fu Tongwen had stationed at the door did not move an inch, quietly watching everything and everyone.

Inside.

When someone shouted from downstairs, “He’s still breathing, hurry and send him to the hospital,” the old madam, who had been holding herself together with sheer will, finally exhaled. Tears streamed down her face as she turned back and looked at her younger son, who was leaning weakly against a chair, utterly dazed.

Shen Xi knelt beside Fu Tongwen, medicine scattered all over the floor. She carefully checked his condition, her mind clear, though tears would not stop falling. The little glass vial was her medicine bottle, not suitable for holding tablets. But Fu Tongwen had insisted on putting his heart medicine in it after taking it from her. She had clearly warned him that the bottle’s mouth was too wide, and even the slightest mistake could spill out too many pills at once. But he refused to listen.

“Relax…” She helped him lower the gun.

Because of the struggle, Fu Tongwen had gripped it too tightly, and coupled with his angina and overexertion, the gun was practically glued to his hand. Shen Xi waited for him to catch two breaths, then slowly pried open his fingers one by one to take it away.

Just moments earlier, when she had tried to snatch it, Fu Tongwen had refused to let go. From that moment, she had guessed the gun was empty.

Since it was empty, it meant he had arranged more than she knew: “Next time, whatever you plan, you must also consider your illness,” she whispered.

Leaning against the grand armchair, Fu Tongwen curved his lips into a weak smile and said, “This body of Third Brother’s… is a burden.”

The gun was indeed empty, just a precaution.

Everyone who had been able to enter Xu Garden tonight had been disarmed by Fu Tongwen’s men, including Master Fu himself. He knew his eldest brother’s temperament—he would rather perish together than bow his head—so how could he give him the chance to kill himself? Besides, Fu Tongwen still had a trace of humanity and filial piety; he did not wish for their mother to witness her eldest son’s blood splattering before her eyes. If his brother was to pay with his life, it would be after tonight.

Just now, holding the gun was nothing more than drawing the outline of a deathtrap, to let his mother see clearly that he would never spare his brother…

Fu Tongwen had arranged everything—except he had not foreseen Su Qing’s presence, nor that she would still care about an old affection from her teenage years.

It had come down to just one step before he was about to call someone in, but Su Qing acted first. Once she did, he could no longer summon his men.

When the door opened, hundreds of eyes were on them.

Su Qing, a concubine of brothel origin, dared to lay hands on the Fu family’s eldest son—there was only death awaiting her. Fortunately, everyone inside the room were Fu’s own people who saw it happen. As long as he and Second Brother swore it had nothing to do with her, and with their mother already distraught, anything she said would not be believed.

Fu Tongwen glanced at Su Qing, who had just regained consciousness.

Even if Eldest Brother could be saved tonight, he would only linger in agony, enduring endless torment, struggling until death.

Perhaps this was fate.

“Don’t move around,” Shen Xi reminded him.

She then went over to Second Master Fu, asking him to lay Su Qing flat, and examined her injuries. Other than burns on her hands, she had only minor wounds. Her clothing had been scorched and torn, but by luck, her skin and hair were untouched. At this moment, however, it seemed as if her soul had drifted away during the earlier struggle—her eyes were fixed blankly on a corner of the room where nothing was there.

“I’ll go out. Leave this to you,” Second Master Fu said in a low voice.

Shen Xi nodded.

Second Master Fu touched Su Qing’s face gently, then rose and went out.

The wooden door was closed by Fu Tongwen’s men.

“Second Brother?” An elder’s voice called from outside. “What happened?”

Second Master Fu’s voice replied, “An accident. Just now, Eldest Brother lost his temper while lecturing us two younger brothers, and he kicked over the brazier. Considering the occasion today, could you please…”

With his sigh, their conversation faded into the distance.

Second Master was a devout Buddhist who never spoke falsehoods, yet tonight he had told a colossal lie—for the sake of preserving Su Qing’s life. When he went downstairs to see Eldest Brother himself, he found that though he was still breathing, his flesh was charred, his features unrecognizable—no longer human.

Before the panicked younger relatives, he feigned calm and ordered the servants to rush Master Fu to the hospital for emergency treatment.

The play no longer needed to be staged; the leading actors had already gone to wash off their makeup.

The Fu relatives gathered here had all been brought in one carriage or rickshaw after another at Fu Tongwen’s arrangement. They now had to wait for Second Master to arrange transportation back to their residences. Watching over the theater pit, people called out to him from all directions, “Tongshan, Tongshan!” The famous actors, fearful, tried to strike up conversation; close kin, worried about the old madam upstairs, sought to confide in him; distant relatives, fearful themselves, wished to know when they could leave.

Second Master Fu was always smooth and tactful, knowing how to take care of every side. Even his young servant was barking orders loudly; usually, the second branch of the family was the quietest, but today, they had a rare chance to act with authority, adopting a commanding posture toward the remaining servants and maids.

“Ah, yes, make sure the reward silver is sent to those few actors, so they don’t harbor resentment and spread gossip.”

After giving his instructions, Second Master Fu lifted his robe and went upstairs.

The sudden upheaval tonight left him at a loss.

Where had Su Qing found the courage to strike the eldest brother with such a fatal blow? He hadn’t caught the words she shouted, but he knew that back in Rouge Alley, Fu Tongwen had treated Su Qing with great care. He never imagined she would be someone who would repay kindness with loyalty…

Gathering his thoughts, Second Master Fu stopped outside the private room.

Both upstairs and downstairs were silent now; Fu Tongwen’s men were guarding the area.

The man in the lead pushed the door half open for him.

Inside, Su Qing was leaning against a grand armchair, while the Old Madam had been helped onto a smoking couch. The pain in Fu Tongwen’s chest had eased somewhat; he stood by the armchair, speaking softly with Shen Xi. When he saw Second Master Fu, he said quietly, “Second Brother, tonight I must thank you.”

Second Master Fu shook his head with a bitter smile, repeating his usual phrase: “We’re brothers, no need to say that.”

“Su Qing’s hand is injured, and for the next couple of days, don’t let her emotions be agitated,” Shen Xi said. “Her head suffered a severe blow.”

“Alright, I’ll remember.”

Shen Xi continued, “Her hand needs immediate treatment—whether Western or Chinese medicine, either will do. As for her head, bring her to the hospital to see me tomorrow.”

Second Master Fu agreed and moved to help Su Qing up.

But just as his hand brushed her wrist, Su Qing suddenly seemed to wake from a nightmare. Tears burst from her eyes; she clung to his shoulder, sobbing, burying her cries into him.

The Old Madam on the smoking couch was also agitated by Su Qing’s weeping. Struggling, she clawed at the low table: “I’ll have a proper reckoning with you…”

Holding Su Qing close, Second Master Fu nodded to Fu Tongwen and led her outside.

“You come back! Fu Er…”

The Old Madam’s tear-filled eyes widened as she cried out, but it was useless. She could only vent her fury by pounding the smoking couch again and again with her fists. She knew—there was nothing she could do anymore, no way to control anyone anymore.

Soon, only Fu Tongwen’s people remained, even the maids serving the Old Madam.

Two maids waited at the door, ready for Fu Tongwen’s orders.

Amid the sound of heavy rain outside, in the eerie silence of the opera house’s private room, under dim wall lamps and the smoke curling from the incense burner, Fu Tongwen’s mother, her white hair disheveled, pounded rhythmically on the smoking couch. She looked like a vengeful spirit demanding payment… The scene was too ghastly to bear.

The dull thuds weighed on Shen Xi’s chest, making her feel suffocated.

Quietly, she clasped Fu Tongwen’s hand and glanced toward the door, hinting that his mother should be taken away.

“Take the Old Madam out,” he ordered.

The maids lowered their heads and hurried in.

“Mother has words to say… Tongwen!” The Old Madam gripped the little side table by the smoking couch, her bloodshot eyes fixed on him.

Panting heavily, her bound feet, no shoes on, only white socks, touched the floor as she tried to dodge the maids. The two maids closed in and lifted the small, frail Old Madam off her feet, carrying her out the door.

Their black shadows overlapped and stretched across the floor.

As they moved farther away, the shadows lengthened.

At the moment she was carried through the doorway, the Old Madam wailed, clutching at the doorframe: “Tongwen! Mother knows! In your heart there is still the Shen family of Guangzhou! That wasn’t your elder brother—it was your father who did it—”

Her dangling earrings struck against her face and the wooden door, flashing green light that trembled and clashed without pause.

The maids used force, hauling the Old Madam away.

“Tongwen! Listen to Mother! Spare your elder brother’s life! Don’t put all the blame on him—”

“Third Brother…”

No, that must have been a mistake… she must have misheard…

The Shen family of Guangzhou? She was talking about the Shen family of Guangzhou? How many Shen families were there in the world, how many in Guangzhou?!

The grand opera house echoed with her shrill cries.

The Old Madam was still defending the eldest master, shouting outside the door, at the stairwell, at the foot of the stairs… even on the first floor she called Fu Tongwen’s name, shouting about the Shen family’s extermination.

Her words, every syllable, echoed—sometimes far away, sometimes right at the ear.

Shen Xi’s heart pounded wildly, making the scene before her eyes blur and tremble.

Blood surged through her entire body, rushing to her brain. Her face flushed crimson in an instant, and she frantically searched for something to focus on—everything was a blank white.

“Tongwen? Tongwen?” She looked for Fu Tongwen’s face. The man holding her hand was right there, yet she couldn’t even see his features clearly.

Among the blinding whiteness, there were faint red shadows—the wall lamps. She could make out the lamps but could not distinguish Fu Tongwen’s brows or eyes.

“Tongwen, you tell me…” Shen Xi kept calling his name, “Tongwen…”

Tell me the truth. What is the truth?

Everything in front of her turned white—the white of his shirt.

Fu Tongwen wrapped his arms tightly around her, suppressing his voice: “I will tell you, every word. Don’t listen to her, listen to me!”

He wanted to block out the Old Madam and the rest of the world, but there was no way. He held Shen Xi, fearing she might act impulsively, using all his strength.

Was this an admission? He had never lied to her…

Shen Xi suddenly lost her strength, collapsing softly into Fu Tongwen’s arms. The tighter he held her, the more she felt like a drifting leaf.

She had thought she was the luckiest of the Shen family, having survived, having met Fu Tongwen. She thought she should cherish this second chance at life, thinking she had personally witnessed the villain who framed the Shen family die in the opium den. Heaven had been kind—revenge for her family, a fresh start, studying abroad, learning medicine, saving lives…

She thought she was helping others, like her parents, her brothers, especially her second brother. Though the Shen family was gone, she survived and lived for the Shen family. But these were just self-affirming illusions. The Shen family was a memory that could not be touched—their parents and brothers killed in a single night. She remembered every face.

The Shen family. The Fu family.

She had thought the Fu family were benefactors. Now, everything she believed was overturned.

Every cry of Fu Tongwen’s mother said that his father had caused the Shen family’s annihilation…

Fu Tongwen scooped her up and laid her on the opium couch. His own heart was in turmoil. Trying to move a low table, he pressed his hand against an unlit lamp, pricking himself. He didn’t make a sound, didn’t pause, and pushed the table aside.

He had never intended to hide the truth forever. With his father and elder brother gone, this was the moment for the truth to emerge. He never expected a perfect ending…

Shen Xi clutched his shirt sleeve. For a drowning person, he was the only piece of driftwood.

Seeing her tear-streaked face, Fu Tongwen’s eyes glimmered with the same heat. He cupped her face in both hands, pleading with a repentant gaze: “It was the Fu family who wronged the Shen family, Wan Yang. I don’t ask you to be magnanimous. I only beg you to listen to me. I will tell you everything…”

Tears streamed down her face. Shen Xi stared at him, hollow-eyed.

Their eyes met.

With no lingering affection, he could not read her heart. He feared his emotions might spiral, that he might relapse and not survive, but more than that, he feared leaving his words unsaid.

Fu Tongwen took a steadying breath.

After a brief silence, he began, laboriously, to unveil this memory—for her, and for himself.

“Your father and I were old acquaintances, lifelong friends despite the age gap,” he said softly. “That year, I returned from England and met your father, Master Shen, on a cruise. Of course, by then he had already resigned from office to go into business.”

The Shen family, from Shen Xi’s grandfather onward, had long advocated for banning opium.

But a single opium destruction event could not save the already-corrupt Qing dynasty. When Shen Xi’s father served as an official, his colleagues were addicts; opium had become an essential part of social interactions and officialdom. Outraged, Shen Xi’s father resigned to go into business.

Guangzhou was the earliest trade port. Shops in the Thirteen Factories flourished—a prime period for wealth accumulation. The Shen family prospered quickly. While not as rich as the Pan, Wu, Lu, or Ye families, they were influential enough in Guangzhou that their footsteps could sway local affairs. Yet Shen Xi’s father had loftier ambitions.

“Before I went abroad, I supported the reformists, and after returning, I still did. I wanted to change China but not overthrow the Qing government. Your father, however, had become a revolutionary—he wanted to completely overthrow the Qing,” Fu Tongwen explained. “Though we differed politically, we admired each other.”

Fu Tongwen even disembarked early in Guangzhou to argue politics with Shen Xi’s father, staying for a month. Two stubborn men—a nearly fifty-year-old wealthy businessman and a twenty-something overseas-educated young master—couldn’t sway each other.

Yet at that time, Fu Tongwen had already begun to waver.

Raised in Beijing, a scion of nobility, he lacked the exposure to open ports like Shen Xi’s father had. Overthrowing the Qing government required more time and experience.

“In the twenty-ninth year of the Guangxu era, your father suddenly came to Beijing and asked to meet me. He gave me a list of 377 people, hoping I could help them flee the country—his comrades in the revolution,” Fu Tongwen’s voice dropped low, as if fearing eavesdroppers. “He said he was about to die and was exposing himself to distract Qing officials from his comrades, buying them time to escape. No one could be trusted except me—he believed I would help.”

Shen Xi’s heart thumped heavily. Her father was a man of few words, only chatty around her mother. As a child, she didn’t understand revolution, and even if she were grown, he would never have told her such secrets…

“I asked if there were any Shen family members on the list, so I could arrange for them too. He said no. I found it strange—did Shen family members not participate? He told me over a dozen had, including your brothers, cousins, and distant relatives,” Fu Tongwen’s voice faltered, still shaken years later. “Your father said the Shen family members couldn’t escape—if they did, there would be leaks, because the Shen family… was too prominent.”

Shen Xi’s lips moved slightly. She breathed with effort; each inhalation felt murky and suffocating, as if she had inhaled all the smoke from the censer into her lungs.

Fu Tongwen continued: “I then, under the guise of business, helped these people disperse to Vietnam, Japan, even Europe. Your father and the dozen Shen family members were imprisoned. When your father met me that night, we expected the worst outcome: those involved in the revolution from the Shen family would face execution along with him.”

“Back then,” he paused, then said, “my father and elder brother were in charge of the case. The Shen family had served the government for three generations—they should never have been wiped out. But my father and brother sought credit, using this as an opportunity to seize the Shen family’s property…”

The Shen family’s wealth was staggering. Many local officials grew rich by confiscating it.

Ultimately, gold bars replaced opium. The Shen family’s people and fortune vanished into smoke.

In the first month of the thirtieth year of Guangxu, 371 members of the Shen family were executed.

In the same year, Fu Tongwen helped 377 revolutionary youths escape. He knew his father and elder brother had destroyed the Shen family, yet he could not intervene in Guangzhou. He had to ensure his old friend’s mission succeeded without error.