Chapter 63: He Must Not See Liu Fuying

“A-Ying, come try this.”

Shen Jieling brought a plate of freshly steamed pastries to Liu Fuying’s side, placing it on the small table. She then waved to Shen Yiliang across the room, inviting him to come taste them as well.

“Oh, it’s still hot. A-Ying, don’t touch it yet—let it cool a bit longer.”

Just as she was about to return to the stove, Liu Fuying suddenly caught her by the wrist.

“Why are you always on the move? I’ve never seen you sit down and rest properly.”

Shen Jieling smiled in response to Liu Fuying’s concerned chiding, gently patting her hand. “Isn’t the shop about to open? I need to come up with plenty of new styles and flavors. Of course I know I should rest—I’ll rest when I’ve earned enough silver. I invited you here today precisely to have you taste these.”

Liu Fuying glanced at the pink-and-white pastries on the table before looking up to ask another question.

“Have those people been bothering you again?”

At this question, Shen Yiliang across the room also lifted his head to glance over.

“Don’t worry,” Shen Jieling patted the back of Liu Fuying’s hand and laughed. “My life is getting better and better. Even if they’re jealous and come to cause trouble, with a great Buddha like you standing guard here, they wouldn’t dare do anything real.”

Shen Jieling’s late husband had been a scholar during his lifetime. His parents had long passed away, but he had left behind some family assets. As long as Shen Jieling managed them well, she wouldn’t have to live too poorly in her later years.

Having no in-laws to meddle should have been a good thing, but unfortunately, her husband’s family had a few shameless uncles. In their greed to seize the modest inheritance left by Shen Jieling’s late husband, they even slandered her, claiming her son was not of the Shen Family’s blood.

At that time, Liu Fuying had just moved to this area.

Although the incident had blown up, she hadn’t originally intended to get involved.

Until she saw Shen Yiliang—his face bearing some resemblance to Pei Zhouwu’s.

Then, without realizing it, she felt a stir of compassion. Using her status as the General’s Madam, she stepped in to help Shen Jieling settle that messy affair.

Just like that, she and Shen Jieling became friends. Living close by, they often gathered to pass the time.

However, although she had intervened back then because of Shen Yiliang, it wasn’t because she had any particular interest in him. Shen Yiliang had been only sixteen three years ago, still a child with youthful innocence. Like Shen Jieling, she regarded him only as a younger brother.

Her pity for him was purely because, at the time, she hadn’t yet fully let go of Pei Zhouwu.

Thinking of Pei Zhouwu waiting alone in Xiangshan, she still felt somewhat uneasy.

Helping Shen Yiliang and his family had merely been a pitiful attempt to redeem her own troubled conscience.

Fortunately, everything had now been settled.

Perhaps Pei Zhouwu had long forgotten her.

“A-Sheng, Nian-Nian, come out for pastries.” Shen Jieling walked toward the stove, calling into the inner room as she went.

A moment later, two three- or four-year-old children emerged from the room together.

The boy was Shen Jieling’s son, named Zhuang Yusheng.

The girl was Shen Xinian, Liu Fuying’s child.

Her child with Pei Zhouwu!

“Mother.”

Shen Xinian descended the steps, her fine bangs fluttering as she rushed toward Liu Fuying. Liu Fuying sat up straight, reaching out to catch her.

“Mother, Nian-Nian is hungry. When are we going home, Mother?”

“You didn’t eat enough this morning,” Liu Fuying gently pinched her cheek, pink and soft like a peach. “What time is it now, and you’re already hungry? Well, your Aunt Jieling just made new pastries—have some to tide you over.”

“Okay, Auntie… Auntie’s pastries are the best in the whole wide world.”

At two or three years old, her speech was still a bit halting, and her vocabulary was limited, yet she was particularly fond of talking.

Just as she reached out to take a pastry, Liu Fuying quickly stopped her.

“It’s hot, let Mommy blow on it for you first.”

Shen Xinian watched eagerly as Liu Fuying picked up a pastry, blowing on it again and again, making her swallow her saliva in anticipation.

Once the pastry had cooled, she stretched out both hands to take it.

Her chubby little hands firmly grasped the pastry, and just as she lowered her head to take a bite, she suddenly thought of something and stopped.

She turned around and scampered off, running over to Shen Yiliang’s desk across the room.

“Yiliang gege, for you.”

She wasn’t even as tall as the desk yet, straining on tiptoe to place the pastry on the edge of the table.

Shen Yiliang looked at the pastry, then at her, frowning slightly as he corrected her, “Call me Uncle.”

“Gege!” Shen Xinian insisted.

The maids in the mansion usually taught her to call those who looked young “gege” and those who looked older “uncle.”

Shen Yiliang was indeed quite young, so calling him “gege” wasn’t unreasonable.

But Zhuang Yusheng, the son of Shen Jieling, was to be addressed as “gege” by Shen Xinian. If she also called Shen Yiliang “gege,” it would mess up the family hierarchy.

This small dispute over “uncle” or “gege” often occurred between the two.

“It’s Uncle Yiliang,” Shen Yiliang never relented on this point.

“Mommy?”

Shen Xinian turned back, her little face scrunched up as she looked to Liu Fuying for help. Liu Fuying found it amusing and beckoned the child back, telling her not to disturb Shen Yiliang while he was writing.

“If you still want Uncle Yiliang to read to you in the future, don’t make him angry.”

She wore a smile, clearly directed at Shen Xinian, but it was Shen Yiliang who responded.

Shen Yiliang’s lips curved slightly, a warmth flickering unnoticed in his eyes, rising in temperature until it tinged with an indescribable shyness. Afraid of being seen, he quickly lowered his gaze, hiding it carefully.

“Niannian meimei, come quick, look at the little rabbit my mom made.”

Over by the stove, Zhuang Yusheng coaxed her with a dough rabbit, and Shen Xinian’s eyes lit up as she dashed over.

Liu Fuying leaned back again. Such ordinary, uneventful days were the most comforting.

She hoped she could live this comfortably for the rest of her life, free from any storms.

Outside the General’s Mansion at the entrance of the alley, a large procession of people and horses had stopped.

The curtain of the carriage in the middle was lifted, revealing Shen Xiunian’s pale, sickly face.

“General Pei.”

He called out to Pei Zhouwu, who was about to dismount up ahead.

Hearing this, Pei Zhouwu tugged on the reins and rode back, stopping beside the carriage window.

“General Pei, I am deeply grateful for your assistance in escorting me this far.”

Shen Xiunian had woken up last night. After learning that Pei Zhouwu had brought him back, he lay awake all night, worried. Since they had already reached the nearby town and were about to enter the city, he couldn’t very well send Pei Zhouwu away at that moment.

Now, his heart was filled with waves of unease.

He had only one thought in mind: he absolutely must not let Pei Zhouwu and Liu Fuying meet.

“General Shen, you’re too kind. Back during the Xiangshan incident, it was only thanks to your fairness that I was cleared of the charges. I’ve been looking for an opportunity to repay you ever since.”

Shen Xiunian pressed his lips together.

Repay? What repayment was there to speak of?

Back then, he had even felt sorry for Pei Zhouwu, thinking he was a lovesick fool trapped by affection just like himself, and thus held considerable sympathy for him. Seeing that Pei Zhouwu still cherished the Glowworm Wooden Hairpin gifted by his beloved even in his dreams, he truly felt heartache on his behalf at the time.

Who would have thought!

Pei Zhouwu turned out to be the adulterer with whom his own wife had been carrying on an affair behind his back.

He, a man cuckolded, had actually pitied the very adulterer who caused him to be cuckolded—truly… utterly absurd.

Although it was he himself who had pushed Liu Fuying out to find an adulterer, still…

Every time he recalled it, he always felt unsettled.