TIPS – Chapter 3

The news that the Xue family’s daughter was arranging a marriage with the assistant magistrate’s family quickly spread through the village. And whenever her name was mentioned, people couldn’t help but bring up Shen Junxi, since many still remembered their past engagement.

It was likely that Chen Shi had said something outside, as the villagers were now discussing the matter in this way:

“The Shen family and the Xue family only ever had a verbal agreement. Back then, the girl was still so young—there was no need to rush an engagement. It’s not like she wouldn’t have suitors. Besides, with the Xue family’s good conditions, were they ever really worried she wouldn’t get married?”

What they didn’t realize was that the Xue family had originally arranged the engagement early because they feared missing out on Shen Junxi, a promising scholar. Now, with this change in tune, the villagers easily accepted it—after all, Shen Junxi had fallen on hard times. What did he have to offer to marry a Xue family daughter?

Not that no one stood up for the Shen family. Some said the Xue family was opportunistic, going back on their word.

But others quickly countered with a laugh, “Be honest with yourself—if your daughter were engaged to the Shen family, would you still want her to marry into their situation?”

The person who had spoken up fell silent, then mumbled, “The engagement was made for benefits, and now that those benefits are gone, they abandoned him. In the end, it’s their own selfishness—what does that have to do with the Shen family?”

And so, no one blamed the Xue family. Instead, everyone mocked the Shen family’s downfall.

The Shen family’s matriarch, the old lady, heard about this from the younger generation. She now lived with her third son, Shen Dongying. His wife, Wang Shi, asked her, “Should we step in? The Xue family has gone too far. Even though the eldest brother split from the family, he is still a Shen.”

But the old lady wasn’t nearly as upset. When she married into the Shen family, her mother-in-law had adopted her firstborn, Shen Dongming, to raise as her own. Later, she had her second and third sons, and she had been too busy to care much for Dongming.

A child raised by someone else could never compare to one raised by her own hands. The old lady had never gotten along with her mother-in-law, and as a result, she also harbored resentment toward Shen Dongming. After her mother-in-law, Wu Shi, passed away and Dongming reached marriageable age, he was given a wife—Yang Shi—who had been arranged by Wu Shi.

Once the old lady became the household matriarch, she ignored Dongming and his wife at every turn. She looked down on this eldest son, whom her mother-in-law had raised to be neither smart nor capable. Old Master Shen had been a scholar his entire life, and like his wife, he disliked their honest but dull eldest son. Instead, they favored their third son, who excelled in academics.

As for the second son, Shen Dongqi, he wasn’t scholarly, but he was a businessman. His tea plantation was the largest in Chashan Village, bringing in the most wealth. Ten years ago, he and the third son established the Shen Family Private School, solidifying the Shen family’s status in the village.

It was during that time that Shen Junxi showed his scholarly talent. Those were the best years for their family’s relationship with the main Shen household because Old Master Shen valued him somewhat. But five years ago, everything fell apart overnight, and their relationship with the main family returned to what it had been before.

Such was life.

Even in his hardest times, Shen Dongming had never asked the main family for a single penny. Instead, he gritted his teeth and carried cargo at the docks, saving up coin by coin to treat his wife and son’s illnesses. But no matter how hard he worked, his son, Junxi, still lost his voice. That was the one thing Shen Dongming could never let go of.

After that incident, he completely gave up on the main family. Parents and brothers? None were as reliable as himself. He no longer had any expectations of them.

Shen Dongming’s wife, Yang Shi, returned from the vegetable field with a hoe on her shoulder and a bundle of greens in her hand. Entering the courtyard, she saw her husband sitting on the doorstep, smoking. She softly advised, “Smoke less. Your old cough is acting up again.”

She had heard him coughing at night these past few days and was thinking of finding some loquat leaves to make tea for him.

“I’m fine.” Shen Dongming tapped the ashes from his pipe and asked, “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve been bullied again.”

There had been gossip everywhere these past few days, and he had told his wife and son not to listen. But his wife just couldn’t stand hearing even a single bad word.

Yang Shi turned her head away. “I’m going to cook.” She set down the hoe and vegetables. “Where’s Junxi?”

Shen Dongming gestured toward the kitchen. “Roasting tea leaves.”

Yang Shi was surprised. “Junxi knows how?”

“Go take a look.”

Inside the kitchen, Shen Junxi skillfully stirred the tea leaves, occasionally tasting a bit. If the fire was too strong, he reduced it; if it was too weak, he added more fuel. He handled it steadily.

Standing at the doorway, Yang Shi was relieved—he had his father’s demeanor.

Tea roasting was a skill passed down through generations in the Shen family. Shen Dongming had learned it firsthand from his grandfather. But in this generation, Shen Junxi had barely touched it, focusing instead on his studies for the imperial exams. It was only after the family’s misfortune that he had picked up the craft again.

He had been learning for three years now, and today was the first time he was roasting tea on his own.

Shen Dongming followed his wife inside. “How is it? Let me taste.”

Shen Junxi turned and saw his parents, smiling slightly. He handed his father a bamboo sieve filled with roasted tea leaves.

“The color looks good.” Shen Dongming sifted through the leaves with his hand, picked up a small handful, and tasted them. He gave his verdict: “Over-roasted—too crisp. Watch out for that next time.”

Shen Junxi nodded seriously, signing with his hands that he understood and would pay attention next time.

Yang Shi also tasted the tea and found it to be just like the tea her husband roasted. “Isn’t this the same as yours?”

For Junxi’s first time roasting tea on his own, she thought he had done remarkably well.

Shen Dongming said, “Are you the master, or am I the master?” A master has to act like one—when a disciple tries something for the first time, you must never praise them too much. Even if they do well, you have to point out flaws, so they know there is still room for improvement.

Yang laughed. “I’m just an outsider. You’re the master.”

The whole family burst into laughter for a while. Then, Shen Dongming clapped his hands and said, “I’ll leave today’s batch of tea for you to roast. Once you’re done, I’ll sell it myself.” This was his son’s first batch of tea, and as a father, he wanted to hear the customers’ opinions.

Shen Junxi nodded and continued roasting the remaining tea leaves.

Their tea plantation wasn’t large, but during the two months around Qingming Festival, they had steady income each month. After Qingming tea came summer tea, which had a heavier, slightly bitter taste and wasn’t as delicate and fragrant as spring tea, making it harder to sell. In autumn, however, the tea market picked up again because autumn tea was rich, smooth, and aromatic.

If spring tea was like a young maiden, then autumn tea was like a graceful, mature woman.

As for Shen Junxi himself—well, his family didn’t like drinking “maidens” or “mature women”; they drank summer tea.

Since Shen Dongming was going to sell the tea himself, Shen Junxi didn’t go. He had mixed feelings about Lihua Town. Part of him wanted to revisit old places, but another part felt anxious about returning home. In the end, he figured going wouldn’t be of much use anyway.

Meanwhile, Song Man sent his trusted aide, He San, to Chashan Village to inquire about the Shen family.

He San had received quite a few bribes from Song Jinmei, so he spoke highly of the Shen family. He reported that they were a prominent family in the village, with some members running businesses and others teaching at a private school. Their ancestors had been scholars for generations, and their family had a good reputation.

Initially, Song Man had been reluctant to arrange a marriage, believing the Shen family to be poor farmers. But now, the situation seemed different—at least the man in question was a scholar.

Song Man had learned to read only after becoming wealthy, and he enjoyed associating with scholars because it made him feel more cultured.

Now, he felt this marriage arrangement was quite suitable.

However, He San hesitated and said, “Everything is good… except for one small flaw.”

Song Man asked, “What flaw?”

He San chuckled. “This scholar fell seriously ill five years ago, and after recovering, he lost his ability to speak.”

Song Man was frustrated and said, “Why not just say he’s mute?” If the man couldn’t speak, he couldn’t take the imperial exams—he would remain just a scholar for life. But even a scholar was better than nothing.

After some hesitation and a few more words of persuasion from Song Jinmei, Song Man finally made his decision. “Alright, let’s send someone to the Shen family to discuss the proposal. They’ll definitely agree—our family is the wealthiest in Lihua Town. Only an idiot would refuse.”

The next morning, He San personally traveled to Chashan Village to finalize the engagement.

The Song family’s carriage slowly rolled into the village. He San sent a servant to ask for directions to Shen Junxi’s house.

A villager pointed at a young boy nearby and said, “His house is right next to Shen Junxi’s. Let him take you there.”

Seeing that it was just a child, the servant pulled out a handful of roasted sunflower seeds and offered them. “Lead the way.”

The boy took the seeds and ran ahead. When they arrived outside Shen Dongming’s house, he shouted, “Shen Junxi! Someone’s looking for you!”

After calling a few times, he turned to the servant and said, “He’s not home—he went to pick tea.”

The servant asked, “Where?”

The boy gestured toward the foot of the mountain. “Over there.” As he cracked open a sunflower seed, he added, “His mother is home. I’m leaving now.”

Hearing the commotion outside, Yang Shi set down her embroidery and quickly went to open the door.

Shen Junxi’s classmates from town occasionally visited him, though in recent years, such visits had become rare. Still, Yang Shi hoped they would come—it made her son feel less lonely.

“Who is it?” She opened the door and saw a brand-new carriage. This was definitely not her son’s classmates—none of them could afford such luxury.

He San stepped forward. “Madam, is this the home of Shen Junxi?”

Yang Shi nodded, confused. “Yes. May I ask who you are?”

He San smiled. “I am He San, a steward of the Song family from Lihua Town. I have an important matter to discuss with your son. May we speak inside?”

“Song family of Lihua Town?” That name was well known—even the village children knew they were wealthy.

Yang Shi was puzzled. “What business does your family have with my son?”

He San chuckled. “No need to worry, Madam. It’s a good thing.”

Once again, he asked to be invited inside, saying this matter wasn’t suitable for public discussion.

Seeing that it involved the powerful Song family, Yang Shi hesitated but eventually said, “Alright, please come in.”

She poured two cups of tea and said, “My husband and son will be back soon. Please wait a moment.”

He San nodded. “Madam Shen, don’t be nervous. Since your husband and son will return shortly, we’re happy to wait.”

Given that the Song family’s young master was proposing marriage, He San maintained a respectful tone. No matter what happened to Song Jingwei, he was still a Song. As long as he carried that surname, Song Man would never abandon him.

The sun grew stronger as the Shen father and son returned home, each carrying a basket full of tea leaves on their backs. When they saw the grand carriage parked at their doorstep, they exchanged puzzled looks, unable to guess who might have come.

Shen Dongming said, “Could it be one of your old classmates looking for you?”

Shen Junxi shook his head. That was impossible—he had gradually lost contact with his classmates. Sometimes, when he stayed out late selling tea in town, he didn’t actually stay at a friend’s house but just found any place that could shelter him from the wind and rain for the night.

“Let’s go in and see.” Shen Dongming walked ahead, muttering, “Your mother is too naive, letting just anyone into our home. What if they’re troublemakers?” Although he said this, he wasn’t truly angry. Their area was generally safe, and troublemakers were rare.

Hearing sounds from the door, Yang Shi sighed in relief. “They’re back.”

He San looked up and saw a middle-aged farmer in his forties leading the way. His features were decent, his skin tanned from the sun, and apart from his strong build, he looked quite ordinary. Behind him followed a young man in his early twenties, with clean features and a calm, steady demeanor—someone who seemed reliable at first glance.

“Madam Shen, is that your husband and son?”

Yang Shi quickly nodded. “Yes, that’s my husband and my son.” She stepped forward to help them remove their baskets. Shen Dongming frowned and asked in a low voice, “Who is this? Why did you let them in?” With both men of the house out, how could she be so careless?

“He said he’s a steward from the Song family in Lihua Town. That’s the Song family…” Yang Shi trailed off, as if just mentioning the name would cost money.

Shen Dongming was stunned. He looked at He San, then heard Yang Shi whisper, “He said he’s here to discuss something important with our Junxi.”

That puzzled him even more. A well-dressed steward from a wealthy household—what business could he possibly have with their Junxi?

He San walked up with a smile and cupped his hands in greeting. “I am He San, a steward of the Song family in Lihua Town. You must be Master Shen?”

Unlike his two younger brothers, who were used to being treated with respect, Shen Dongming had never been addressed so formally before. This was a first for him, and he hurriedly returned the greeting. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare call myself that. I’m just the head of this household, Shen Dongming. May I ask what brings Steward He to see my son?”

He San chuckled. “No rush, no rush. Master Shen, please come inside. Let’s sit down and talk.”

The Shen family exchanged glances before silently following him in. They each took a seat at the old Eight Immortals table in their home.

He San took a sip of tea to moisten his throat before saying, “I’ll get straight to the point. I’m here today regarding my young master’s marriage.” His gaze swept over the Shen family before finally landing on Shen Junxi. “Young Master Shen, do you still remember the afternoon of the ninth day of the fourth month—the moment when you and the young master of the Song family were intimately close?”

Shen Junxi’s eyes widened. He San’s words shattered his calm facade, sending ripples of shock through his heart.

The Shen family was completely confused. They grabbed He San and demanded, “What ninth day of the fourth month? What intimacy? Steward He, explain yourself!”

But He San ignored them. He wanted Shen Junxi to answer first. He repeated, “Young Master Shen, do you remember or not?”

Under the bewildered gaze of his family, Shen Junxi hesitated before nodding.

Only then did He San smile and continue, “That’s good. My master is already aware of your relationship. He was originally against it, but my young master begged him relentlessly. Since my master dotes on his son, he had no choice but to grant his wish.”

Regardless of how shocked Shen Junxi felt, Shen Dongming and Yang Shi were still utterly lost. Shen Dongming asked, “What exactly happened? Steward He, can you explain?” From what he was hearing, it sounded like Junxi and the Song family’s young master had some sort of relationship—but was that even possible?

He San sighed. “Normally, this shouldn’t be my place to say, but given the circumstances, I’ll keep it brief.”

He then recounted the events of that afternoon on the ninth of the fourth month, altering the details to frame it as a tale of mutual affection—where Shen Junxi and Song Jingwei had met in secret, been caught by their elders, and ultimately won their approval through their devotion to each other.

As for whether Shen Junxi would deny it, He San wasn’t worried at all. Only a fool would dare reject the young master of the Song family.

If one ignored the calculated maneuvering behind it, the story could almost be called a beautiful and romantic one. At least, that’s how Shen Dongming and Yang Shi saw it.

They turned to look at their son with strange expressions.

Shen Dongming thought to himself, Well, well, so you already had someone in town, and here your mother and I were worried about you for nothing.

Yang Shi, on the other hand, thought much further ahead. Her son was outstanding, yes, but the Song family’s young master was of an entirely different status—was their humble family even capable of handling such an alliance?

The entire Shen household was thrown into turmoil. No one’s heart was at peace—not even Shen Junxi, who tried to maintain his composure.

Noticing their reactions, He San added helpfully, “My young master is deeply devoted. For the sake of your son, he even drank river water.”

The words river water made Shen Dongming and Yang Shi’s hearts skip a beat.

Especially Yang Shi—her eyes lit up as she asked excitedly, “Did you say… river water?”

But then she hesitated. No, that didn’t seem likely. After all, they were talking about the young master of the Song family.

“That’s right, that day, my young master drank river water,” He San sighed and said. “If not for that, my master wouldn’t have agreed.” Then, shifting his tone, he asked seriously, “May I ask how your esteemed family plans to arrange this matter?”

Upon hearing “river water,” the couple was overjoyed. But upon hearing the words “your esteemed family,” they looked around at their own shabby home, their faces turning awkward. How could their family possibly afford to marry the young master of the Song family? They didn’t even dare to think about it.

Even a family like the Xue’s required a significant betrothal gift—let alone the wealthiest family in Lihua Town, the Song family. Just how much silver would be needed for such a marriage?

Shen Dongming cast a guilty glance at Shen Junxi and muttered, “This matter… I’m afraid our family can’t handle it. Look at us…” It was clear at a glance—they simply weren’t a proper match. He had always known he was poor and lacked ability, but he had never felt as resentful of his poverty as he did today.

He San seemed to understand Shen Dongming’s dilemma and reassured him, “Master Shen, you don’t need to worry. My master is not the kind of person who despises the poor and favors the rich. He said that as long as your son treats our young master well, then everything else is not a problem.”

Fearing that Shen Dongming still wouldn’t understand, he added bluntly, “As for the betrothal gift, just a token amount is enough. Genuine feelings are what matter most in a marriage, don’t you agree, Master Shen?”

Shen Dongming liked hearing this and nodded in strong agreement. “Your master is absolutely right. That’s exactly how it should be. My wife and I have been poor together for decades, and we’ve never had a serious argument.” Saying this, he suddenly felt that the master of the Song family was truly a good man.

He San smiled. “Then shall we consider this settled?”

Shen Dongming thought for a moment before laughing. “As long as the Song family’s master doesn’t mind our poverty, or mind my son…” Wait—did the master of the Song family know that Junxi couldn’t speak?

He San waved his hand dismissively. “Not at all. My master is very satisfied with your son. He has already inquired thoroughly.”

Hearing this, the Shen family of three all breathed a sigh of relief—including Shen Junxi. Though he couldn’t speak, he quietly listened.

There were some things his parents didn’t know, but he understood them well. He knew better than anyone whether or not Song Jingwei truly loved him. But despite everything, he didn’t want to refuse this opportunity.

And when he heard that the Song family’s master was very satisfied with him, he secretly relaxed, his brows smoothing out, and deep inside, a small, delicate joy bloomed.

“Then it’s settled,” He San said. “I will return and inform my master. We’ll be waiting for your good news.”

Having won this negotiation, He San clasped his hands in farewell.

The Shen couple enthusiastically escorted him to the door, promising to visit soon.

Shen Junxi, however, did not follow them out. He remained seated inside, appearing somewhat dazed in the eyes of his parents.

Shen Dongming, unable to hide his joy, rushed back inside after seeing He San off and immediately questioned Shen Junxi, “You rascal, hurry up and explain—what exactly is going on between you and the young master of the Song family?”

Yang Shi was just as curious. “Yes! When did you get to know such an important figure? How come your father and I had no idea?”

Her Junxi had always been filial and honest, never hiding anything from them.

This time, however, it wasn’t that Shen Junxi didn’t want to tell the truth—he simply couldn’t. He would rather his parents never know about the scheming involved.

“You’re saying you two just recently met?” Yang Shi watched as Shen Junxi gestured in sign language, her face filling with concern. “Then what kind of person is the Song family’s young master? If you’ve only known each other for a short time, why is he so determined to marry into our family?”

If he truly liked Junxi that much, shouldn’t it be the other way around—shouldn’t he be bringing Junxi into the Song family instead?

Of course, it wasn’t that Shi Yang wanted her son to be married off. She would much prefer the Song family’s young master to come into their home. But the whole thing seemed too unusual —something didn’t add up.

Shen Junxi thought for a moment, made a few gestures, and then stopped explaining altogether.

Yang Shi and Shen Dongming exchanged glances, and their faces flushed.

When had their Junxi become so shameless, praising himself like that?

“Oh well, oh well, if he’s willing to marry in, then that’s a good thing. Let’s not overthink it,” Shen Dongming said, still overwhelmed by everything. He added, “Go quickly and find a matchmaker. We need to prepare Junxi’s birth chart.”

Yang Shi nodded. “You’re right. I’ll start making arrangements right away.”

Shen Dongming continued, “Starting tomorrow, we need to tidy up the house—we can’t be sloppy anymore. Junxi’s spouse is from a wealthy family. We can’t let him dislike our home.”

Yang Shi and Shen Junxi were both helpless. Their house was always kept clean and neat. But to reach a standard that the young master of the Song family would find acceptable, they’d need to rebuild the entire house.

Building a new house required money—money they didn’t have.

The Song family said they didn’t require a betrothal gift, but the Shen family couldn’t really give nothing. They would still need to set up the wedding chamber, buy new furniture, host the wedding banquet, and invite guests—all of which cost money.

As Yang Shi muttered to herself about all the expenses, Shen Junxi felt a mix of both bitterness and joy. It was a truly conflicting feeling.

“Junxi, we can’t delay this matter. Tomorrow, we’ll have the matchmaker visit, and the day after, the three of us will go to deliver the betrothal gifts. What do you think?”

Shen Dongming paced around in circles, wondering if he was being too hasty.

Looking at his wife and son, he asked, “Am I being too impatient?”

Yang Shi and Shen Junxi nodded. It wasn’t that they thought Shen Dongming was being impatient; rather, they agreed that proposing the marriage tomorrow and arranging the betrothal the day after was the right decision.