As soon as the day broke the next morning, Su Jinyu was already dressed and ready.
She chose a pale lotus-pink dress and pinned her hair with a white jade hairpin, looking fresh and neat. Without bringing too many attendants, she boarded her carriage with only her personal maid.
Marquis Weiyuan's Manor was only two streets away from the Minister's manor. The carriage wound through the quiet morning alleys and came to a slow halt before a pair of stone lions.
Just as she lifted the carriage curtain, she saw a crowd of people standing at the entrance.
Her maternal grandmother stood at the very front, wearing a dark brown beizi with her hair neatly combed. Holding a handkerchief in her hand, she took two steps forward the moment the carriage came to a stop, the smile lines on her face crinkling from the corners of her eyes all the way to her mouth.
Behind her stood Marquis Weiyuan. Today, he was not wearing his court robes, having changed into a casual black robe instead. His gaze held a calm, gentle warmth unique to an elder as it fell upon Su Jinyu.
Her aunt stood slightly behind her grandmother, dressed in slate-gray clothing. She held a plate of freshly steamed pastries in her hands, as if she had brought them straight from the kitchen; wisps of hot steam were still rising from the dish.
As Su Jinyu stepped down from the carriage, her grandmother had already reached out and clasped her wrist. Her palm was warm and dry, holding a natural, firm grip that only came from someone who truly cherished you.
Her maternal family did not have any complicated or messy family branches; their household was simple and quiet.
Her uncle and aunt had only had one daughter over the years, who was Princess Consort Xin, Shen Xi. After her marriage, she only returned home during the annual festivals.
There was also her cousin, Shen Sui. He was a child adopted by her uncle in his early years. Though not biological, he was highly accomplished and brought great pride to the family.
Shen Sui had achieved fame at a young age and was exceptionally skilled in military strategy, suffering almost no defeats on the battlefield. Whenever anyone in the capital mentioned “Young General Shen,” they would invariably give him a thumbs-up in admiration.
Whenever her uncle spoke of him, his face would beam with pride, calling him the most outstanding disciple of his life and the pillar of Marquis Weiyuan's Manor.
...
“Were you tired on the road? Have you had breakfast yet? Your aunt woke up early this morning to make your favorite osmanthus cake,” her grandmother said, pulling her inside the gates.
Marquis Weiyuan followed beside them, his pace slightly slower than usual to walk abreast with her. He looked down at her and asked softly, “As for your father...”
He trailed off mid-sentence, as if debating whether he should bring it up. Su Jinyu shook her head and curved her lips slightly, saying in a cheerful tone, “It’s all in the past. Grandfather, there's no need to worry.”
Marquis Weiyuan glanced at her and did not press further. He simply nodded slightly, as if confirming that she was indeed not just putting on a brave face.
Her aunt smiled and handed the plate over from the side, saying, “Taste it first. It was steamed with fresh osmanthus. It won't taste as good once it gets cold.” Su Jinyu took the plate, pinched a piece, and took a bite. The sweet fragrance of osmanthus and rice flour melted on her tongue, mingled with the warm steam; it was indeed much more fragrant than the ones made at her own manor.
Her eyes curved into a smile as she stood in the sunlight at the entrance. Her grandmother held her hand, her grandfather walked beside her, and her aunt offered her pastries—everyone was revolving around her. The feeling of being deeply loved felt exceptionally real in the morning light.
Bowing her head, she took a second piece of osmanthus cake and took a bite. The morning light spread a warm, golden layer over the blue stone steps, appearing even brighter than she had imagined.
Lunch was served in the flower hall. The family banquet at Marquis Weiyuan's Manor was much livelier than that of the Minister's manor.
Dishes crowded over half the table, steaming with hot white vapor.
Su Jinyu was pulled by her grandmother to sit beside her. To her right was her aunt, and the seat to her left was empty; they said her uncle was rushing back from the military camp and had been delayed on the road, so he would arrive a bit late.
Just as they were speaking, a hurried set of footsteps echoed from outside the hall.
Shen Zhiyuan strode in through the door wearing a greyish-brown casual robe. He carried the dusty air of travel on his shoulders, clearly having rushed straight from the military camp.
Upon entering, he first bowed to Marquis Weiyuan. Before even sitting down, he pulled a palm-sized brocade box from his breast pocket and handed it to Su Jinyu, casually ruffling the top of her head. “Take this back and play with it. Don't tell your father; he's never gotten anything good for you anyway.”
Having said that, he sat down at the head of the table. Without waiting for Su Jinyu to thank him, he turned to her grandmother and bluntly scolded Minister Su. He criticized him for not knowing how to raise his daughters, for treating a perfectly good legitimate daughter's future as a bargaining chip, and for now actually daring to indulge his concubine-born daughter in a clandestine affair with Xie Tianci. His tone was direct and sharp.
Su Jinyu held the brocade box without opening it. Looking at her uncle's face, which was filled with displeasure, she did not speak up to defend her father.
She knew Shen Zhiyuan doted on her, and she knew most of what he said was true. Slipping the brocade box into her sleeve, she picked up her chopsticks, placed a piece of lotus root into her bowl, and did not reply.
After Shen Zhiyuan finished cursing Minister Su, the atmosphere in the flower hall warmed up again. The aroma of the dishes mingled with the chatter and laughter of her grandmother and aunt, drifting above the table.
Su Jinyu noticed that there was another person standing behind Shen Zhiyuan.
The man had a tall, upright figure, wearing a dark green casual robe with a short blade hanging at his waist. He stood as straight as a pine tree, and his brow carried a calm, quiet temperament forged by years of living on the frontier.
Since entering, he had not sat down, standing quietly behind and to the side of Shen Zhiyuan like a bamboo planted in a corner.
Su Jinyu put down her chopsticks, looked up at him, and tilted her head slightly.
This was her uncle's adopted son—Shen Sui, who had spent years leading troops on the frontier.
She had only seen him once or twice during the New Year in the past, and each time had been a fleeting glance; they had never spoken.
She nodded to him and curved her lips slightly as a greeting.
Shen Sui's gaze paused on her face for a moment before quickly shifting away.
His Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and his fingers hanging at his side gently clenched against his robe before relaxing. There was no extra expression on his face, but a faint flush began to spread from the base of his ears, clearly visible in the sunlight.
Su Jinyu also withdrew her gaze, but the sense of familiarity that had risen in her heart did not dissipate. She felt that, for some reason, the feeling Shen Sui gave her was strangely familiar, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it—
Her grandmother also noticed that Shen Sui was still standing and waved for him to sit.
Shen Sui gave a soft reply and sat down next to Shen Zhiyuan. His movements were smooth and agile, his robes making no unnecessary rustling sounds as he took his seat.
After sitting down, he did not initiate any conversation, simply picking up the chopsticks beside him, his gaze fixed on the table.
The lively chatter in the flower hall continued to ring out. Sunlight filtered through the half-open window lattice, casting a warm, gentle glow on the rims of the dishes and wine cups on the table.
Rate on N.U.
