Chapter 32: Ao Shuang's Visit

After bidding farewell to the Master of Mist, the group departed from Biyshan Academy. At the academy gates, they each went their separate ways.

Lu Ziqing and Feng Ze sought out an inn to stay in, waiting for the third day of the fifth month when the Wuji Sect would appear. Regarding the matter of confronting the Wuji Sect, Lu Ziqing felt more powerless than ever before.

Meng Yuanheng, on the other hand, went to the Xuan Prince’s Suzhou estate. The Xuan Prince’s household, with its century-old foundation, was vast and wealthy, its businesses stretching across the land. On her way to the Xie mansion with Xie Mingyu, Shen Qianmo thought of her two shops and realized she still had much work to do to become truly wealthy.

She guessed that Meng Yuanheng had followed her south to Suzhou to investigate the Wuji Sect, perhaps for other reasons as well. But Shen Qianmo didn’t blame him for keeping secrets; she had always felt that Meng Yuanheng’s sudden decision to come to Suzhou was not entirely straightforward.

Everyone has secrets they prefer not to share with outsiders. She hadn’t been honest with him either. Besides, the matter of the Wuji Sect was entangled with the Xuan Prince’s ancestral grudges; it was only natural for him to be discreet.

Their relationship, when laid bare, was nothing more than the whim of a man with power, and she was powerless to escape it—such was the sorrow of women living in a feudal era.

Even so, she was determined to live as brilliantly as she could. She blamed no one and depended on no one. If others treated her kindly, she reciprocated; if others mistreated her, she would not allow herself to be bullied. Romance was not the center of her life. If, in time, Meng Yuanheng treated her with true affection, she would return it wholeheartedly. But if he deceived or betrayed her, she would let go without hesitation and walk away.

By the time she arrived at the Xie mansion, dusk had fallen and the lanterns were lit. With the Master of Mist’s birthday banquet approaching, the household was busy with preparations. Seeing Xie Mingyu return after several days away, the mansion was filled with lively commotion.

The men of the Xie family took no concubines, so their numbers were few. The Master of Mist had only two children, Xie Chun, known as the Hermit of Pine Moon, and Xie Yun, a son and a daughter. Xie Chun had two sons and a daughter: the eldest Xie Mingyu, the second Xie Mingfeng, and their sister Xie Yao. The Master of Mist preferred to reside at the academy, so only Xie Chun’s family lived in the mansion.

Xie Chun and his wife had not seen Shen Qianmo for many years. Now, seeing her grown into a graceful and charming young woman, they felt both pleased and sentimental, thinking of the late Xie Yun and unable to avoid a pang of sorrow.

Xie Mingfeng and Xie Yao were twins, two years younger than Shen Qianmo, just sixteen. Thanks to the Xie family’s excellent lineage, Xie Mingfeng was already strikingly handsome at a young age, while Xie Yao was intelligent and poised. Both called Shen Qianmo “Cousin,” curious about this cousin they had never met, whose gentle demeanor was hidden beneath a veil, but their good upbringing kept their curiosity in check.

With several days until the Master of Mist’s birthday banquet, Shen Qianmo settled in the Xie mansion with Green Bamboo. The household staff was few, and Yu Shi was busy preparing for the banquet.

Unfamiliar with ancient etiquette and banquet customs, Shen Qianmo could not help much. She let the industrious Green Bamboo assist Yu Shi, while she herself helped Xie Mingyu organize student records at Biyshan Academy and handled some academy affairs.

Compared to household chores, Shen Qianmo found herself more at ease dealing with academy matters.

“Mo’er, do you remember a person named Du Yu?” One day, as they were verifying student enrollment records from the past two years in the Academy’s Imperial Library, Xie Mingyu suddenly asked her.

“Isn’t he the eldest son of the Du family, the one who went missing a few months ago?” Shen Qianmo replied after a moment. At the time, the Wuji Sect assassin who died suddenly in the Tianxiang Tower in the capital had impersonated Du Yu.

Xie Mingyu nodded. “Yes, but he returned mysteriously about ten days ago. And it’s said he remembers nothing about the months he was missing.”

“Selective amnesia?” Shen Qianmo’s brows furrowed slightly. Seeing Xie Mingyu’s bewildered expression, she explained, “Selective amnesia happens when someone experiences trauma so severe that their mind cannot bear it, and chooses to forget that period. It’s a subconscious form of self-protection.”

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Xie Mingyu was renowned for his scholarship; with that explanation, he should understand.

“So, Du Yu must have experienced something terrifying during his disappearance, something he cannot accept. But what could it have been?” Xie Mingyu mused.

“Have you seen Du Yu lately?” Shen Qianmo asked.

Xie Mingyu shook his head. “I wanted to visit the Du estate, but I heard that since his return, Du Yu has stayed inside, refusing to see anyone.”

“If he’s been traumatized, not wanting to see outsiders is normal. But if this goes on, it may affect his mental health. Psychological illness is still illness, and should be treated early.”

Xie Mingyu had never heard such an idea before and looked at Shen Qianmo with some surprise, then self-deprecatingly said, “Sometimes I feel you know more than I do, Mo’er. I think I need to reflect on whether I still deserve the title ‘Mingyu Gentleman.’”

Shen Qianmo was speechless. Could she admit that, in some areas, she really did know more than Xie Mingyu?

At that moment, a servant reported, “Young Master, Cousin, a young lady calling herself Miss Leng has come to visit.”

Leng? It must be Leng Aoshuang. With only two days left until the third of May, her arrival was timely.

Shen Qianmo saw that although Xie Mingyu’s face was calm, a hint of delight flashed in his eyes. Amused, she teased, “Cousin, a beauty’s come to visit. Shouldn’t you prepare yourself?”

Xie Mingyu shot her a glance and smiled gently. “Let’s go.”

At the academy gates, Leng Aoshuang stood in white, graceful and solitary. When Shen Qianmo emerged, a smile appeared on Leng Aoshuang’s exquisite, icy face as she called, “Qianmo.”

A smile to rival a city’s beauty—this was not the first time Shen Qianmo had seen Leng Aoshuang smile, but it dazzled her nonetheless.

Xie Mingyu was equally shaken.

He had become famous young, his literary talent and charm made him the dream of countless noble maidens. But for twenty-eight years, he had devoted himself to study, indifferent to romance. Though courteous to all, he was, in truth, utterly detached.

Yet, when he was abducted to the Flower Moon Palace and encountered Leng Aoshuang, her breathtaking beauty and cold, clear eyes left an indelible mark on his memory.

In the palace, she had him take medicine that kept him asleep, thwarting Leng Xiangning’s schemes; she secretly sent someone to deliver a message to Mo’er, revealing his whereabouts; she risked her life to shield him from Leng Xiangning’s attack and suffered grave injuries—all of which he remembered vividly. The moment he saw her cough blood and collapse before him, he vowed never to let down this woman.

But after witnessing her sister’s tragic fate, would she ever open her heart again and believe in love? He had no confidence, and so did not dare act. He feared scaring her away.

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“Aoshuang, you’re finally here.” Shen Qianmo greeted her joyfully, taking Leng Aoshuang’s hand. “You look travel-worn. You must be tired from the journey.”

Leng Aoshuang shook her head, noticed Xie Mingyu nearby, and a flicker of emotion crossed her face before she greeted him coolly, “Mister Xie.”

Xie Mingyu responded politely, “Miss Aoshuang.”

And then, silence.

Shen Qianmo rolled her eyes inwardly. Both of them were so reserved—clearly interested in each other, yet pretending otherwise. The pressure of matchmaking these two was no small matter.

In the face of such reticence, Shen Qianmo did her best to exercise her modest social skills, warmly inviting Leng Aoshuang to stay at the Xie mansion and introducing her to Yu Shi.

Shen Qianmo explained to Yu Shi that Leng Aoshuang was a heroic woman of the martial world and her close friend; that she and Xie Mingyu had faced danger on their journey to Suzhou and were saved thanks to Leng Aoshuang’s help, so she had invited her to stay while she attended to business in Suzhou.

Yu Shi, seeing Leng Aoshuang’s extraordinary aura and stunning beauty, immediately thought of her eldest son.

To be honest, the matter of Mingyu’s marriage had been a source of endless worry for her. Her eldest son was twenty-eight already, and in the past ten years she had introduced countless young ladies, but he hadn’t been interested in a single one, making her wonder if he’d become a monk or an immortal. Now, whenever she saw an eligible maiden, she was desperate to pair her with Xie Mingyu—almost to obsession.

Yet, after learning of Leng Aoshuang’s background, Yu Shi hesitated. The Xie family was a distinguished household, and Xie Mingyu, as the eldest legitimate son, was destined to inherit the family estate. How could she allow a solitary orphan from the martial world to become the mistress of the Xie household? The thought brought a look of regret to Yu Shi’s face.

Leng Aoshuang, sharp and perceptive, immediately guessed Yu Shi’s intention. She knew her own background was unworthy of Xie Mingyu. Still, she had her pride. She promptly excused herself from Yu Shi and Shen Qianmo, and when she saw Xie Mingyu waiting at the gate, she didn’t acknowledge him, but left with a cold expression.

Xie Mingyu, seeing this, thought Leng Aoshuang disliked him, and watched her leave with a gloomy gaze.

“Cousin, Aoshuang may have misunderstood,” Shen Qianmo wanted to explain, but Xie Mingyu shook his head and left disheartened.

Shen Qianmo opened her mouth, wondering if she had meddled too much. Matchmaking was clearly not so simple.

Well then, let them cool off for now—it might do them good to think things through. After the Master of Mist’s birthday banquet, she would talk to them both.

Shen Qianmo thought she wasn’t the type to meddle in others’ affairs, but perhaps the idle days of effortless comfort had made her restless.