As night rain clung to the eaves, and a few dim lamps illuminated the scene, Madam Shen received Zhang Xingjian in a warm pavilion.
She routinely praised Zhang Xingjian's handsome appearance—the expected courtesies rolling off her tongue—to which Zhang Xingjian responded politely with practiced grace. After several rounds of pleasantries, they finally got to the main business.
Madam Shen sighed, wiping her face with her handkerchief, trying to conceal her resentment towards Shen Qingwu though it leaked through her words. "It's my Shen family's fault for not raising our daughter properly. This unfilial daughter has caused such trouble, making us a laughingstock in Tokyo. We've even had to trouble Sanlang to come all this way."
Zhang Xingjian replied amiably, "Madam, you flatter me. Since our families will be related by marriage in the future, mutual assistance and understanding are only natural. There's no need for such trouble."
Madam Shen was even more pleased, her satisfaction evident.
She leaned forward with anticipation. "I wonder what Sanlang meant by asking Qingye to convey his message that he had a way to make my Qingwu change her way of speaking?"
Zhang Xingjian said modestly, "I'm ashamed to say it's just some underhanded threatening tricks, not something to be taken lightly."
Madam Shen was immediately disappointed, deflating. "Then your hopes have been dashed. Sanlang probably doesn't know, but our Qingwu is a stubborn rock—she doesn't listen to anyone or care about anyone, she does whatever she wants, and the Shen family can't control her."
Zhang Xingjian didn't speak, but took out a handkerchief from his sleeve with deliberate care.
The handkerchief was plain, with only the character "Shen" embroidered on the corner. The embroidery wasn't particularly noteworthy, but the character was written with strong strokes and a powerful style, not something an ordinary young lady could write—it carried the force of someone who held weapons rather than needles.
Madam Shen looked at the handkerchief over and over, extremely puzzled.
Zhang Xingjian said, "This was given to me by my savior."
Madam Shen stammered, "Oh, so it was embroidered by Qingye, it really is Qingye's handwriting..."
Zhang Xingjian didn't expose her, but just smiled slightly. His gentle smile made Madam Shen feel embarrassed and awkward, as if he could see through every lie. So Zhang Xingjian calmly continued:
"I've heard that Shen Erniang is a woman who wields weapons. She certainly wouldn't be interested in embroidering handkerchiefs, much less remember to do needlework. This handkerchief was probably forced upon her by someone close to her. Someone as stubborn as Shen Erniang must be very important to her to be able to get her to obey."
Madam Shen fell into deep thought, her mind already calculating.
She genuinely didn't know which family member Shen Qingwu was close to, but Zhang Xingjian's words gave her a starting point for investigation. If she could get to that person, she could force Shen Qingwu to comply—leverage was everything.
Just as Madam Shen was about to make arrangements, Zhang Xingjian added gently, as if the words were an afterthought, "Furthermore, I've heard that Shen Erniang's mother died early, and she grew up alone. Logically speaking, her mother must have been very important to her."
Madam Shen turned back and took a deep look at the gentle and handsome young man standing under the candlelight—seeing him clearly for perhaps the first time.
While Madam Shen was setting up her scheme with Zhang Xingjian's careful guidance, Shen Qingwu wandered along the Bian River in Tokyo under the pouring rain, unsure of where to go.
Tokyo didn't have a curfew, and the city was often more bustling and vibrant at night than during the day. Today's quietness was simply due to the sudden, heavy rain—water washing away the usual crowds.
Shen Qingwu stood under the bridge, watching the eaves of buildings pass by, umbrellas float by like water lotuses, and a few pedestrians quickly disappear. Everyone had their own destination, but she didn't know where to go—a ghost haunting familiar streets.
She had only left because Shen Qingye had begged her to go, crying. What would she do after leaving? She didn't know. The future stretched blank before her.
Shen Qingwu thought for a while and decided to go find Zhang Xingjian. Everyone said she wasn't good enough for him, but at that moment, she didn't realize how vast the difference was—how deep the chasm between their worlds.
Shen Qingwu hadn't walked far through the streets of Tokyo when Shen Zhuo and his men ambushed her.
At the alley entrance, Shen Zhuo dismounted, his gaze both worried and strange—he thought that after such a major incident, his foolish sister, having escaped, should have left Tokyo. Why wasn't Shen Qingwu leaving? Was he going to harm her?
Shen Zhuo's bitterness and inner turmoil were unknown to Shen Qingwu. Standing in the rain, her mind was clear and serene as still water. Seeing her brother and the guards and servants behind him, she knew they were there to deal with her.
Shen Qingwu gripped the dagger hanging at her waist warily. She had given this dagger to Shen Qingye for self-defense, and Shen Qingye had returned it to her when she escaped—a circle completing itself.
Shen Qingwu assessed the number of enemies and the terrain, pondering how she could escape with the cool calculation of a warrior.
Shen Zhuo walked towards her step by step in the night rain, but Shen Qingwu remained unmoved, poised for violence.
As he approached, Shen Qingwu prepared to draw her dagger, when she heard Shen Zhuo whisper in her ear: "Qingwu, leave Tokyo first. Brother will figure out the rest."
Shen Qingwu raised her head slightly, surprise flickering across her features.
A guard behind Shen Zhuo overheard the siblings' conversation and immediately shouted, "Eldest brother, don't forget what you promised Madam! If you can't bring yourself to do it, why don't you step aside..."
Shen Zhuo's voice rang out with sudden authority. "Let's see who dares to lay a hand on my sister!"
He suddenly drew his sword and turned to face the guards behind him. Unlike Shen Qingwu, he had practiced martial arts since childhood and had battlefield experience; his sudden burst of fierce aura caused the guards behind him to involuntarily take a step back, instinct overriding loyalty.
But the guards did not retreat far. They were members of the Shen family, not Shen Zhuo's—their allegiance bought and paid for.
Shen Zhuo tilted his head slightly back and said succinctly, "Qingwu, let's go."
Shen Qingwu wasn't an indecisive person, and her cold heart didn't feel that Shen Zhuo had made any sacrifice worth acknowledging. She didn't really understand how tonight's events had unfolded, but instinct told her that if someone tried to attack her and she couldn't win, she should leave.
Without hesitation, Shen Qingwu turned and leaped over the wall with practiced grace.
Her foot touched the wall, and she suddenly caught a glimpse of a cold light in the night rain. She abruptly shifted her body, leaping into the air and spinning, as a long arrow shot towards her like a rainbow cutting through darkness.
"Bang—"
With a whistling sound, the arrow struck the ground, forcing Shen Qingwu back to a distance. She landed kneeling on one knee, her dagger already drawn and gleaming.
Her sharp eyebrows rose, looking around at the walls and trees, where Shen family warriors stood like statues—an ambush prepared in advance.
Shen Zhuo cried out desperately, "Qingwu!"
Madam Shen's voice rang out at just the right moment, theatrical and triumphant. "Shen Qingwu, you want to escape? Where can you escape to if this isn't resolved?"
"Mother..." Shen Zhuo's voice broke.
He froze.
The guards parted like a curtain, making way for the carriage behind. Alighting from the carriage were not only Madam Shen, but also a handsome young man whose presence commanded attention.
After the young man alighted, a guard held an umbrella for him. A light rain blew, and a few raindrops fluttered on Madam Shen's sleeves, but he remained refreshed and composed, his demeanor impeccable—untouched by the night's violence.
He nodded to Shen Zhuo with polite acknowledgment.
Shen Zhuo said, word by word, recognition dawning like horror. "Zhang Sanlang."
At this very moment, in the Zhang family's old mansion, the flickering of a candle startled Zhang Wenbi, the second wife of the Zhang family, who was dozing with her arms propped up.
Upon waking, Zhang Wenbi listened to the rain outside and asked the maid on night watch if her younger brother had returned.
The maid replied, "It's past midnight. The young master has not returned home since he left last night."
Zhang Wenbi lowered her eyes, her heart filled with unease that gnawed at her.
As a child, her younger brother nestled at her knees as he studied. She worried he wouldn't amount to anything and was always strict with him. Now, he was rarely home, and when he did return, she often scolded him. She worried he'd gone astray, and was concerned he might be injured but wouldn't tell her.
The Zhang family's direct line was empty; she only had Zhang Xingjian left—the last thread of their bloodline.
Zhang Wenbi pushed open the door decisively. "Let's go visit the Shen family."
She wanted to know how her brother's plan to resolve that matter had gone—
Rain dripped down her cheeks as Shen Qingwu, surrounded by people, lifted her rain-streaked eyelashes to look at them—water and defiance mixing on her face.
Zhang Xingjian noticed her clear, dark pupils, calm as a still river. So many guards with swords attacked her, yet she remained unmoved, fear a foreign concept.
It was a natural talent for fighting, ignored by the Shen family—wasted, dismissed.
He would repay his savior in a way far better than marrying him. This was mercy, he told himself.
Zhang Xingjian stared intently at the young woman behind the rain curtain, while the young Shen Qingwu, surrounded by enemies, had her dark eyes fixed on someone else entirely.
Through the fine rain, she saw an elderly woman with white hair being pushed and shoved down from a carriage. The old woman staggered, looked up, and saw her.
Her voice trembled with recognition and fear. "Second Madam..."
A change finally occurred in Shen Qingwu's calm eyes; a hint of anger surfaced, piercing coldly at Madam Shen. Under that gaze, Madam Shen froze for a moment—even she could feel the hatred radiating like heat.
Madam Shen said unhappily, "I just found out that all these years, you've been in contact with your deceased mother's wet nurse. You occasionally give her money, and she nags in your ear, alienating our family. I said things kept going missing from the house; it turns out you were stealing them to give away."
Shen Qingwu replied indifferently, each word flat and final. "I didn't steal anything."
With Zhang Xingjian present, Madam Shen didn't want to be ridiculed by outsiders, so she endured this pointless conversation. Madam Shen stared at Shen Qingwu, her expression calming down into something colder and more calculated:
"We'll let bygones be bygones, but this matter is different in severity. I can't tolerate you anymore. Qingwu, you have to change your tune. Zhang Sanlang is your cousin's fiancé. He and your sister are deeply in love. What makes you think you're interfering?"
Shen Qingwu said with genuine confusion, "What does it have to do with me?"
Madam Shen had anticipated her unyielding attitude, but fortunately, she was well-prepared this time—Zhang Xingjian's strategy laid out perfectly. "If you refuse, this old woman and her entire family of ten will not survive tonight. They are servants of the Shen family; their lives are in my hands. Even if we appeal to the authorities, it will only amount to this. Whether this family sees the sun tomorrow depends on you."
Shen Qingwu looked calmly at Madam Shen, weighing, calculating.
The old woman knelt down with a thud, trembling as her body hit the wet ground. "Second Madam, please save my family. He's just a young man, nothing special. You don't even know him. I heard you only saved his life... I've known you for so many years, you know that!"
She knelt in the rain and began to recount how she had doted on Shen Qingwu in the past, how she had raised this child who was disliked by the Shen family...
The small acts of kindness from the past were trampled on in this rainy night, their meaning distorted—love weaponized.
Shen Zhuo hissed beside her, unable to bear it. "Enough!"
The old woman covered her face and wept, trying to crawl over to Shen Qingwu, her voice pleading earnestly, desperately.
The rain was fine and continuous, washing everything in gray.
Through the umbrella, Zhang Xingjian's gentle gaze fell on the slightly pale-faced girl.
Even with her high martial arts skills, she was still young and couldn't handle such dark schemes—innocence meeting calculation.
Shen Qingwu listened to the old woman's cries and lowered her eyes. Her grip on the dagger tightened and loosened, tightened and loosened, a sense of confusion washing over her.
She couldn't help but turn her head to look at Zhang Xingjian behind the rain curtain.
She couldn't see him clearly through the mist, but his pure and radiant appearance always made him stand out from others—a light that shouldn't exist in this darkness.
Shen Qingwu looked down again and saw the mud on the tips of her shoes.
A surge of violence and anxiety rose within her like a tide: Why? Why should she give up? Why wasn't she the one chosen? Why, just when she felt hope was within reach, was it cruelly ripped away?
Madam Shen's voice rose with impatience. "Shen Qingwu!"
Shen Qingwu raised her head, the movement slow and deliberate.
Madam Shen's tone was stern, delivering the final blow. "If you still don't change your tune, not only will this nanny's life be threatened, but your mother's grave will also be moved from the Shen family mausoleum. Do you want your mother to become a wandering ghost after death?"
This was exactly what Zhang Xingjian had taught her—the people Shen Qingwu cared about most were her wet nurse and her mother.
Besides these two, who else in this world could make Shen Qingwu bow her head?
It seemed like a long time had passed, yet it also seemed like a short time—moments stretching like hours.
The rain intensified under the night sky, the pounding sound like a torrent. The girl surrounded by the rain had a pale face and raised her extremely dark eyes—eyes that had seen through everything.
Shen Qingwu walked forward step by step.
Madam Shen was so frightened that she retreated step by step, suddenly uncertain.
Even Shen Zhuo was somewhat afraid of Shen Qingwu's aura and whispered urgently, "Qingwu, what are you going to do? Don't do anything wrong, don't hurt your mother!"
Wrongdoings.
It seems she's always been doing wrong things since she was little.
But are all the things others do right?
Are all the things others do good, and all the things she does bad?
Shen Qingwu stopped a foot away from Madam Shen, and the guards protecting Madam Shen breathed a sigh of relief. Sometimes, they were really afraid of this gloomy second mistress—her unpredictability a constant threat.
Shen Qingwu spoke, her voice carrying across the rain. "Okay, I'll change my mind."
Madam Shen's eyes lit up with triumph.
Zhang Xingjian's eyelashes trembled slightly under the umbrella—
Zhang Wenbi's carriage stopped at the alley entrance, and the guards informed her that something had happened ahead.
After she understood what had happened, she hurriedly got out of the carriage and ran towards the scene of the incident, chased by her maid calling her to be careful.
In the darkness, the rain was heavy, creating a curtain between worlds.
Zhang Wenbi heard the girl's words in the alley clearly—
"From tonight onwards, Shen Qingwu and Zhang Xingjian have no relationship whatsoever, and Shen Qingwu will never marry Zhang Xingjian. I can say this here, and I can repeat it again and again anywhere, without ever changing my mind."
"If I am unfortunate enough to marry Zhang Xingjian, may I be struck by lightning and die a horrible death, forever condemned to hell for all eternity."
Such a cruel vow startled Zhang Wenbi, the words hitting like physical blows.
Standing at the alley entrance, she saw her younger brother's back from a slight angle, the crowd of people, and the girl surrounded—a tableau of cruelty.
At the same time, Shen Qingwu's dagger flashed out rapidly. The crowd gasped, Madam Shen fell to the ground, and Shen Qingwu, like a ghost, subdued Madam Shen, while simultaneously lifting the weeping wet nurse with her other hand—impossible speed, perfect control.
In the tense, breathless atmosphere, Shen Qingwu toyed with the dagger against Madam Shen's neck, continuing indifferently, each word deliberate:
"But if you want me to make such an oath, I must make it clear.
"Nanny, I saved your life today. This is the last time. From now on, I will not listen to anyone who threatens me with you again.
"Madam Shen, you threatened me with my deceased mother, this is also the last time. From now on, if you burn my mother's ashes and mix them into soup, I will not bow my head again, nor utter another word.
"In this world, nothing can threaten me anymore.
"Everything tonight, I will remember in my heart, and I will repay a thousandfold."
Madam Shen trembled, fear finally penetrating her triumph. "Insolence! Shen Qingwu, are you out of your mind or insane? What nonsense are you spouting?!"
Zhang Xingjian suddenly looked up, his eyes shining brightly as he looked at Shen Qingwu.
He was not surprised by her submission; he was captivated by her current radiance—the way she turned surrender into declaration, defeat into defiance.
She had sworn never to marry him.
But in doing so, she had freed herself from everything else.
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