TYSUF – Chapter 63 Vast Old Rivers and Mountains (1)

1967, Shen Residence

“Later, your grandfather rebuilt the Shen family ancestral hall for me.”

In the study, an elderly lady in her seventies concluded her story. She held a fountain pen, wore a pair of delicate gold-rimmed glasses, with a fine chain dangling beside her face.

She sat upright, back straight, reviewing students’ post-operative reports. Nearby, a little boy used the lamp light to cast shadows of his hands on the wall—sometimes butterflies, sometimes wolves.

He murmured, “The 30th year of Guangxu… the 33rd year…”

Suddenly, the boy placed his hands on his knees and looked seriously at his grandmother. “Is the story not finished yet?”

“Not finished?” The elderly lady paused, setting down her pen and removing her glasses.

“You just said your and grandfather’s fate began in the 33rd year of Guangxu, when grandfather first saw your black-and-white photo. That’s… from 1907 to 1918, only eleven years,” he finally found a reason to continue listening to this legendary tale. “But you said it’s a twelve-year story, right? One more year—tell one more year.”

Twelve years?

The elderly lady recalled—it was indeed necessary to have a twelve-year story to make it complete. Her husband had labored for years, pouring half his fortune into efforts often misunderstood; some even thought him a traitor or misjudged by those he helped. All of it was because he wanted China to participate in World War I.

In the end, he achieved his goal. China not only joined the war but also became a victorious nation.

She subconsciously avoided mentioning 1919.

That year…

The elderly lady leaned slightly forward, draping a wool blanket over her knees.

“In the winter of 1918, Germany surrendered, and World War I ended,” she recalled. “The army your grandfather funded hadn’t yet reached the international battlefield when this monumental news arrived. In that era, our country was constantly invaded, territories were ceded, reparations demanded, and internal chaos persisted. Our nation longed desperately for a victory.”

She smiled. “It was a nationwide celebration. No government organization was needed—people spontaneously marched and celebrated. Firecrackers rang everywhere, speeches of the new era filled the air…”

“The greatest joy in nearly a century!” laughed Second Master Han, offering wine to Zhou Lixun who had come from Beijing. “Too bad I came back early and missed the festivities. Quick, tell me—was it really bustling in front of the Forbidden City?”

“Yes. The Ministry of Education specially ordered students to have a holiday for the celebrations. Imagine the fierce winds of November in Beijing, Mr. Cai’s voice went hoarse from calling out every day, yet he still gave lectures daily,” Zhou Lixun laughed, taking a cup, mimicking Mr. Cai Yuanpei’s speeches by the window. “‘The result of the world war—victory belongs to the Allied Powers. We must eliminate all unjust darkness in international relations, replacing it with enlightenment!’”

Fu Tongwen laughed, and everyone present laughed along.

“Just a pity, Tongwen’s millions in military aid went down the drain,” Zhou Lixun teased.

“Better that way,” he said unconcernedly. “We win without fighting, and fewer soldiers die—what’s wrong with that?”

Everyone laughed.

In the corner, only Second Master Fu wore a long gown, appearing out of place, yet sharing the same joy. He had actually come to bid farewell that night but unexpectedly met Zhou Lixun from Beijing. Fu Tongwen’s small apartment had gathered a group of wealthy young men from the capital. Some had connections with Second Master Fu from earlier years, so naturally insisted he stay.

In the first-floor living room, the discussion shifted from lectures at the front gate to the grand military parade to be held at the Forbidden City’s Taihe Hall at the end of the month, all reminding Second Master Fu to attend. After all, most people here handled business in Shanghai, and only Second Master needed to head north.

Upstairs, Shen Xi and Su Qing sat on the sofa, waiting for the downstairs festivities to end.

“Cold?” With nothing else to say, Shen Xi and Su Qing asked. “Shall I add another charcoal pan? I’ll get Wan’an.”

“May I see Mr. Tan? Is he here?” Su Qing suddenly asked.

Shen Xi’s heart skipped a beat.

He was here… but because Second Master Fu and Su Qing had come to bid farewell, Tan Qingxiang deliberately avoided appearing, staying in his bedroom. He was avoiding awkwardness. From Second Master Fu’s perspective, Tan had once been Su Qing’s benefactor; discretion was wise.

“Mr. Tan… I can ask,” Shen Xi said.

“Tell him… this may be the last time in this life. Second Master is planning to settle in Tianjin,” Su Qing said.

Tianjin? She was surprised. “Didn’t Third Brother give Second Master the Fu family house?”

Su Qing smiled. “Second Master also has a foreign-style building in Tianjin. He can go if he wishes; it makes no difference.”

When she first met Su Qing, Second Master Fu had been her benefactor. They exchanged warm and gentle words, hearts subtly touching. Fu Tongwen had carefully explained her loyalty to Fourth Master—how she risked her life for revenge, her eyes betraying no falsehood. And Mr. Tan? Tan Qingxiang was her first love; naturally, there were special feelings.

Tan Qingxiang likely also wanted to see her—just as old friends catching up.

…

“I’ll be quick,” Shen Xi said.

She went upstairs and knocked on the door. After a long while, even Peide peeked out, and only then did Tan Qingxiang slowly open it. His bedroom lights were off; the sudden light from outside made him squint. “Everyone gone? Hungry? Need to pack? If you’re hungry, call Peide; if packing, call Wan’an. I have a headache—don’t disturb me tonight.”

He motioned to close the door, but Shen Xi blocked it. “Su Qing wants to see you.”

Tan Qingxiang paused slightly. “See me for what?”

“She’s leaving soon, maybe to bid farewell. She’s going to settle in Tianjin; following us, whether in Beijing or Shanghai, you’d hardly see her again.”

Tan Qingxiang was silent for a while.

“Go. I’ll accompany you,” she said, then reconsidered. “If you think it’s inconvenient for me, I can wait outside. Just be careful—not to do anything wrong…”

“What do you take me for?” Tan Qingxiang asked sternly. “Second Master Fu is downstairs. What could I possibly do?”

“So, will you go or not?”

“Go on, wait, let me wipe my face,” he said.

Shen Xi felt uneasy, unable to imagine what the two of them would say or what might happen when they met.

When Tan Qingxiang and she entered the second-floor bedroom, he sat down at the desk, while Su Qing occupied the sofa. Both were silent, each lost in their own thoughts, sitting absentmindedly.

Not a word was exchanged.

Shen Xi treated herself like a decorative piece, browsing books by the bookshelf.

Half an hour passed. She heard louder noises downstairs—it seemed the living room door had opened. Everyone must be saying goodbye to Second Master Fu; they were about to leave. She closed her book and looked back. Su Qing and Tan Qingxiang, coincidentally, met each other’s gaze for the first time that night.

“Back then…” Su Qing said softly.

“Why?” Tan Qingxiang interrupted her.

“Qingxiang, you are the best person in the world,” Su Qing looked at him sincerely. “But Qingxiang, I am an ordinary woman. Not everyone can live like you, Third Master, or Fourth Master. I can’t imagine, and I can’t accept… having a husband who is always ready to sacrifice himself for the country. I need to be virtuous, to have a stable home, and live a life without worries about food or shelter.”

Forty million people—each different.

Some loyalists sacrificed themselves for the fallen Qing, some shed blood to overthrow the Qing government, some gave their lives for the revolution, some fretted over not having a bowl of hot porridge, some ran tirelessly for their family…

What Su Qing meant was: Qingxiang, you are selfless for the country, and I am someone who wants a family.

There is no right or wrong—just different pursuits.

“Qingxiang, I respect you, I am grateful to you, and I understand you, but I cannot be a person like Miss Shen. I cannot reach the level you have.”

Tan Qingxiang said nothing.

Soon, Su Qing’s maid came to escort her.

From start to finish, they exchanged only these few sentences, and even at their closest, they were still five steps apart.

Second Master Fu was leaving, and the other young masters had dispersed.

Shen Xi saw them out. From the apartment door to the alleyway, Fu Tongwen and Second Master Fu were saying goodbye. She and Su Qing were silently parallel. Finally, Fu Tongwen and Second Brother paused by the roadside, seemingly finishing their conversation.

Su Qing reached out from her sleeve and held Shen Xi’s hands: “I wish you could have spoken ill of me to Mr. Tan. But alas, Miss Shen, you probably haven’t learned how to speak behind someone’s back.”

Shen Xi smiled with complex feelings.

“I was born in Rouge Alley,” she suddenly began, “and the older folks there had seen the Eight-Nation Alliance. They told me that when the Alliance entered Beijing, where were the men? Left behind were the women, serving the foreigners, feeling like slaves of a fallen nation… That’s why women in Rouge Alley knew: you can’t rely on men—you have to rely on yourself to survive and live well.”

She added, “But my perspective is limited; that’s all I could understand. Second Master said, ‘Miss Shen, you are after loyalty and valor, naturally different from me,’” she suddenly stopped, eyes unexpectedly misting, “no matter whether it was true or not, you were Fourth Master’s only official wife at the time… and back then, I was jealous of you.”

“It’s false. All false,” Shen Xi quickly explained.

“I know, Miss Shen,” she smiled, “Second Master told me.”

Shen Xi was speechless.

“Farewell, take care.” Su Qing released her hands and went to Second Master Fu.

Fu Tongwen personally saw Second Brother onto the car.

In the night, a sedan drove off. Only after losing sight of the car did Fu Tongwen put an arm around Shen Xi’s shoulder and walk back. “Tan Qingxiang probably won’t sleep tonight.”

“That’s your sister-in-law; you still joke like that?”

Fu Tongwen smiled. “It’s just Qingxiang’s obsession, not an affair.”

“Back then, did Tan Qingxiang want to marry her?”

“You know? From what was just said?”

“Not explicitly, but roughly.” she replied.

“He wanted to marry, but Su Qing didn’t even meet him. She later entered the Fu household directly in a sedan,” Fu Tongwen remarked. “Even today, it’s their first meeting since Su Qing married into the Fu family.”

No wonder.

Back in the house, Wan An was tidying up.

No sign of Tan Qingxiang or Peide.

“Mr. Tan went to sleep again?” Shen Xi asked curiously.

Suddenly, a girl’s shriek came from upstairs—it was Peide.

Fu Tongwen rushed upstairs first. Shen Xi and Wan An hurried to the third floor. As Fu Tongwen reached to knock, Tan Qingxiang had already opened the door. Inside, Peide sat on the bed, wide-eyed, still startled, looking at the intruders.

Tan Qingxiang was shirtless, having just fastened his belt. He held a shirt, ready to leave.

…

Fu Tongwen stared at him incredulously. “What… are you doing?”

“Mr. Tan… you, you…” Wan An stammered, unable to speak.

Shen Xi couldn’t help but laugh.

Tan Qingxiang immediately pointed at Shen Xi: “No laughing! Listen.,” He glanced at Peide, wanting to say something polite but gave up. “This child is so clueless. I was just taking off my clothes to sleep, and she hid in my bed… I hadn’t even called out yet, and she screamed first. Shen Xi, you should teach her properly—Chinese girls have rules. Who hides in a man’s bed? Scared me…”

The more he spoke, the more aggrieved he seemed, pushing past the three blocking him.

Running downstairs while putting on his shirt, he called, “Are we eating? Want some stir-fried rice cakes?”

Shen Xi hurriedly closed Tan Qingxiang’s door, stifling her laughter.

“What’s with pretending to be clueless,” Wan An muttered, “I already saw it—Peide is really quite fine, isn’t she?”

Fu Tongwen smiled and shook his head, saying nothing.

But Shen Xi roughly understood his meaning—just two words: obsession.

Just like he can’t let go of his dream for the country, she can’t let go of saving lives. People need a hurdle they can’t pass to remain trapped in the mortal world; otherwise, they’d have long retired to the mountains, leaving everything empty.

In Su Qing’s heart, there will always be the Fourth Master riding through long alleys.

And Tan Qingxiang will forever remember that fourteen-year-old Su Qing, living in the west wing of Shihua Pavilion—the little Su San.