Chapter 2: Take Care, Uncle Pei

Pei Che was indeed swift and decisive—just a few words and the marriage between the two families was settled.

Anyone unfamiliar with his style might suspect that this Pei Ziye had some terrible illness or defect that kept him from finding a wife, so the moment he found her, he clung on like she was his last chance.

As for Jiang Shiyuan, she had no objections. This marriage had been in the works three years ago, when her aunt first tried to play matchmaker. But back then, her heart was set on Shen Luchu, and she had refused before her aunt could even finish her sentence.

Three years had passed, and the Pei family was still willing. She was honestly surprised.

Then again, maybe Pei Ziye hadn’t exactly been up to anything good these past three years. Otherwise, why would he still be single?

“I still have official business to attend to. I’ll take my leave for today.”

Having settled the important matter, Pei Che stood up to go, his tone strictly businesslike.

Nanny Qin beamed and gave Jiang Shiyuan a gentle nudge. “Miss, go walk Lord Pei out.”

Jiang Shiyuan was still in a daze. Nanny Qin shot her a mild glare and whispered, “Go on—you’re going to be family soon. Better get familiar with each other early.”

That made sense.

Rumor had it that even though Pei Che wasn’t the head of the Pei family, he held a lot of sway. If she could get close to this little uncle, Pei Ziye probably wouldn’t dare act too wildly after they were married.

Jiang Shiyuan rose to see him off.

Though “seeing him off” was more like quietly trailing behind him the whole way.

Normally lively, Jiang Shiyuan went completely mute at the sight of Pei Che’s official robes.

It was Pei Che who finally broke the silence: “What do you usually like to do at home?”

She had prepared a little when she heard last night that she would be meeting someone.

Polishing the resume a bit—she understood the game.

Hearing the question, Jiang Shiyuan responded smoothly, like reciting from memory, “Lately I’ve been learning to manage household affairs, and in my free time, I enjoy reading and experimenting with cooking.” Elders always liked these virtuous answers.

“Is that so?” Pei Che slowed his steps, allowing her to catch up and walk beside him. He turned to look at her.

Jiang Shiyuan immediately panicked like she’d been seen through and confessed like spilling beans, “Well, if storybooks count as reading, and stuffing my face counts as culinary appreciation, then yes—I’m quite skilled.”

They arrived at the gate. Jiang Shiyuan hung her head like a student caught cheating on an exam. Overhead, a low chuckle sounded.

Pei Che was clearly laughing at her and Pei Ziye—two useless brats, a perfect match.

“Tastes aren’t noble or lowly. If a pastime brings comfort and joy, that in itself is a rare talent.”

Jiang Shiyuan looked up in surprise, her almond-shaped eyes wide. “That’s not what you said before.”

Pei Che blinked. “What did I say before?”

“You said, ‘Hobbies ruin ambition—base pleasures!’” And you said it in front of everyone.

Jiang Shiyuan furrowed her brow and pulled a long face, letting out a soft snort of derision. Her expression was mocking, but her gaze was aggrieved—as if accusing him.

Did he… really say that?

Pei Che looked away, turning his gaze toward the nearby pedestrians. “Then I was wrong.”

Huh?

Did she hear that right? The golden child of the nation, Pei the Genius, just admitted he was wrong?

She looked up again in shock, only to see Pei Che stepping down the stairs and heading toward his carriage.

Jiang Shiyuan suddenly didn’t think he was so scary anymore. Unable to help herself, she called out, “Take care, Uncle.”

Pei Che paused mid-step as he boarded the carriage, turning back to give her a deep, unreadable look.

Jiang Shiyuan’s heart did a little flip. What? Did I say something wrong again?

Pei Che merely nodded and said no more.

After seeing him off, Jiang Shiyuan quickly turned and rushed back to her room—only to suddenly run into a group of people.

“Jiang Shiyuan, you came to celebrate Li Luo’s birthday too. How come you’re so late? We’re already finished.”

Jiang Shiyuan looked up and saw a group of young men and women walking along the stone path.

Among them, Shen Luchu stood out like a crane among chickens. Surrounded by others, he was chatting and smiling, but looked up when he heard her name. There was still a faint smile in his gray-brown eyes.

Shen Luchu was indeed outstanding—in appearance, family background, and scholarly talent. He was among the very best of his peers.

Seeing him again, Jiang Shiyuan had expected a pang of heartbreak. Instead, she felt remarkably calm.

Did she still like him?

Probably. That stunning first glance in her youth, that one word of praise—she had remembered it for years.

But after hearing the words “disgusting” come out of his mouth with her own ears, Shen Luchu’s glow had faded. That initial flutter had stilled. That was that.

Let’s just chalk it up to being young and foolish.

Who hasn’t made dumb mistakes when they were young?

Not everyone was born like Pei Che—flawless and incapable of messing up.

Jiang Shiyuan withdrew her gaze, just as a soft, melodious voice chimed in.

“Hello, Sister Jiang. I was just asking Luchu why you hadn’t come yet.”

Jiang Shiyuan’s eyes landed on Su Liluo, and the sachet hanging at her waist.

Noticing her gaze, Su Liluo smiled sweetly. “Today’s my birthday. Young Master Shen rented out half of Spring Courtyard to celebrate for me. He even wanted to give me a gift, but I thought it was too extravagant, so I refused everything and only accepted a sachet from him.”

There was a hint of provocation and smugness in her smile.

Everyone knew that sachet had been made by Jiang Shiyuan for Shen Luchu. Inside was a protective talisman she had gone to great lengths to retrieve from Yuzhou, because the Manjusri Bodhisattva there was considered the most effective—and Shen Luchu was set to take the spring civil exam next year.

Su Liluo’s intentions were obvious, but Jiang Shiyuan acted as if she hadn’t seen a thing.

“Sounds nice,” she said lightly.

Just one question—besides academic blessings, could Manjusri also bless relationships?

She spoke calmly, then turned and walked past them without pause.

The group was left stunned. Shen Luchu’s friend Zhou Jingshen frowned in confusion. “Luchu, what was that?”

The sun must have risen from the west. It was rare enough for Jiang Shiyuan to not be at Shen Luchu’s side at a gathering like this. But just now, she hadn’t even glanced his way. That was unheard of.

She hadn’t said a word, but everyone who ever attended the same event as Shen Luchu knew—Jiang Shiyuan’s eyes were always on him. She liked him obsessively and clung to him whenever she had the chance.

Then Zhou Jingshen suddenly smacked his own forehead. “I get it now—it was Jiang Shiyuan’s birthday yesterday!”

Shen Luchu stared at her retreating figure, a strange irritation stirring in his chest. “Was it? I forgot.”

“How could you forget? It’s September ninth, easy to remember. Double Ninth Festival—that’s Jiang Shiyuan’s birthday. It was just yesterday.”

Zhou Jingshen suddenly fell silent—he hadn’t even remembered the date, so naturally, he didn’t prepare any gift.

He couldn’t help but glance at Su Liluo. The double standard was a little too obvious.

“Isn’t this a bit much?” Zhou Jingshen asked, a little guilty.

Strictly speaking, they’d known Jiang Shiyuan far longer than Su Liluo. Jiang Shiyuan had no backing, and her family background was weak, but she was warm, considerate, and never shied away from hard work. When they were younger, she helped them copy books, and after leaving the academy, she continued to lend them help. After all these years, she was at least a familiar friend.

“Hasn’t it always been like this?” Shen Luchu said indifferently.

Zhou Jingshen thought about it—it really had been that way. They’d known Jiang Shiyuan for ten years, and every year on her birthday, no one ever bothered to prepare a gift.

But whenever someone else had a birthday, Jiang Shiyuan would always prepare gifts for everyone.

They’d all just assumed it was her way of currying favor with Shen Luchu and never took it seriously.

She must have grown used to it by now.

So… it wasn’t because of the birthday. Then what was it?

As Zhou Jingshen pondered, his gaze happened to fall on the sachet at Su Liluo ’s waist.

It was the one Jiang Shiyuan had specially gifted Shen Luchu a few days ago—inside it was a rare protective talisman.

Would the talisman lose its effectiveness now that it had changed hands?

Zhou Jingshen didn’t think there was anything wrong with the situation—his first thought was simply that.

Su Liluo, quick to read the room, hastily removed the sachet from her waist and apologized with an uneasy look. “This wasn’t from Sister Jiang, was it? I’m sorry—I didn’t know it was a gift from her. It looks like she misunderstood. Don’t worry, Young Master Shen, I’ll go explain things to her right away.”

Shen Luchu looked at the sachet and said dismissively, “If you like it, keep it. I don’t care for these flashy trinkets. As for my top scores—it was real talent and hard work, not some superstition. Only the incapable would rely on charms and spirits.”

With that, Shen Luchu walked away without a second glance.

He didn’t take it to heart, but he couldn’t help thinking of the glimpse of a figure he’d seen the day before while laughing and chatting with others at the academy.

Yesterday was Jiang Shiyuan’s birthday—did she come to see him?

Did she hear?

A flicker of guilt crossed Shen Luchu’s heart, though it was brief.

So what if she had? Everything he’d said was the truth.

Jiang Shiyuan’s father was a military man, and her mother had once been a bandit. She came from a vulgar background, and the students at the academy had always kept their distance.

He’d only spoken to her out of pity.

If she mistook that pity for something more, then she was greedy beyond reason. How could one not feel disgusted?

That’s what Shen Luchu told himself. And yet, just as he stepped into the carriage, he blurted out an order almost involuntarily.

“Go to Baiwei Fang in the east of the city and buy a box of pastries. Deliver it to the General’s Estate.”

The servant, Moyu, found it odd and asked, “Young Master, is that for Miss Jiang?”

Shen Luchu gave a vague “Mm.” Let it count as a belated birthday gift.

“What kind should I buy?” Moyu asked.

Shen Luchu paused. Jiang Shiyuan knew all his likes and dislikes, but he couldn’t recall hers. All he remembered was that she’d once mentioned the pastries at Baiwei Fang were delicious.

“Why are you asking so many questions? Just buy whatever.”

Moyu thought to himself that was true—normally, whatever the young master gave, Miss Jiang would be overjoyed. If she knew this time he was sending pastries just for her, wouldn’t she be beyond grateful?

He nodded and went off.

Shen Luchu returned to the Marquis Wenyuan’s estate and had just sat down to read when Moyu returned, empty-handed.

“Young Master, bad luck. I arrived just a moment too late. Baiwei Fang had already sold out—all their pastries were bought out.”

Shen Luchu frowned in annoyance. “Why didn’t you give your name and ask them to spare a box?”

“I did, but they ignored me. Said the pastries were for their soon-to-be young madam—couldn’t spare a single piece.”

Shen Luchu’s mother was a princess, and his father was a first-rank marquis. There were few in the capital bold enough to disrespect the Shen family. He snapped, “Whose household was it?”

Moyu answered, “The Pei family on Wutong Street.”

Shen Luchu immediately fell silent.

The Zhuque Imperial City, Pei residence on Wutong Street—in a city where every inch of land was worth gold, only the top aristocratic clan, the Pei family, could occupy an entire street.

The Pei family was powerful and full of talent. When one mentioned them, one couldn’t ignore Pei Che, the tenth son.

Pei Che had become famous young—he passed the provincial exam at twelve, ranked first in the imperial exam at sixteen, and in just ten years had risen to the top ranks of the imperial court, becoming one of the emperor’s most trusted ministers. He was the unattainable idol of every scholar.

Thinking of Pei Che, Shen Luchu felt a pang of sourness.

He himself was a top scholar, and everyone praised him as a promising candidate to become the next Pei Che.

The next?

Who would want to be second to anyone?

He had already won top honors at the county and provincial levels—he only needed to top the imperial exam in the spring to sweep all three rankings.

If he did that, even Pei Che would have to admit defeat.

“What did you just say—the Pei family bought the pastries for whom? Their new young madam?” Shen Luchu asked curiously.

Moyu nodded. “Yes, their steward came in person. Seemed like they took it very seriously.”

The first person Shen Luchu thought of was the idle, good-for-nothing Pei Ziye, who wandered about aimlessly every day. He couldn’t help but sneer, “Who’s so unlucky to be marrying that useless scoundrel? She’ll be crying soon enough.”