Hot flashes

This time, Cheng Yan was unusually well-behaved for a few days. When Shen Ji came out of the study, Cheng Yan was practicing calligraphy on his desk, each stroke meticulous and serious, and from a distance, he looked quite professional.

Shen Ji walked over, stood behind him, and looked down. Cheng Yan's handwriting wasn't bad; the structure was upright, and the strokes were clean—this was the result of half a year of practice.

"There has been progress," Shen Ji said.

Cheng Yan looked up, her eyes brightening for a moment before dimming again, and casually said "Oh." "Of course, when I get serious, even I'm afraid of myself." Her pen then veered off course.

Shen Ji didn't speak, but walked around the desk and headed out. Cheng Yan called after him, "Where are you going?" Shen Ji replied, "To attend a meeting."

Everyone had arrived in the main hall. Shen sat in the main seat, slowly and deliberately turning the sandalwood prayer beads in his hand.

Shen Yu sat to his left, a cup of tea in front of him, which had gone cold, but he didn't touch it. Below him were Shen Xun, Shen Heng, and several other direct descendants, as well as Shen Lang and Shen Cong from the collateral branches, each sitting in their own seats, and no one spoke.

Shen Ji went in and sat down to the left of Shen Yu. Shen Duan glanced at him, his hand that was twirling prayer beads stopping. "The Cui family has replied."

Shen Ji looked up. Shen Duan took a letter from his sleeve and handed it to him.

Shen Ji took the letter, unfolded it, and read it from beginning to end. The letter was short and politely worded—Cui Yin's meaning was clear: they were willing to work with the Shen family, but not for free.

After the matter was accomplished, the six prefectures north of the Yangtze River would belong to the Cui family, 30% of the salt profits south of the Yangtze River would be given to the Lu family, and the management of the canal transport would be handed over to the Zheng family.

Shen Ji folded the letter and placed it back on the table. The room was quiet for a while. Shen Xun couldn't help but speak up: "The Cui family is asking for an exorbitant amount." Shen Duan didn't speak, but Shen Heng followed up: "The six prefectures of Jiangbei? They dare to ask for them too." Shen Duan twirled his prayer beads, one by one, slowly and deliberately.

Shen Lang coughed and said carefully, "The six prefectures north of the Yangtze River were originally the Cui family's territory, but the court has reduced their holdings considerably in recent years. It's not unreasonable for them to want to take it back." Shen Xun's face darkened: "Not unreasonable? What about the salt profits? What about the grain transport? So, our Shen family put in manpower and effort, and in the end, they get all the benefits?"

Shen Cong sneered, "Brother Boyu, the way you're saying it makes it sound like our Shen family is doing this for personal gain." Shen Xun was taken aback. Shen Cong looked at him, "Don't you know what our motives are?" Shen Xun's face flushed red; he wanted to retort, but didn't know what to say.

Shen Duan stopped counting the prayer beads. The soft sound was not loud, but the room fell silent.

Shen Duan looked at Shen Yu. Shen Yu hadn't spoken since entering the room, but now, feeling his brother's gaze, he slowly raised his eyes.

He didn't look at Shen Xun, nor at Shen Heng; his gaze was fixed on Shen Ji. "Shi Yu, what do you think?"

Shen Ji spoke up. "We can agree to the Cui family's conditions."

Shen Xun suddenly stood up: "Shi Yu!" Shen Ji didn't look at him and continued, "The six prefectures north of the Yangtze River originally belonged to the Cui family, and the imperial court has never really controlled them over the years. Giving them to them is just doing a favor by doing the imperial court something it can't control. Thirty percent of the salt profits will go to the Lu family, and the canal transport will be handed over to the Zheng family—as long as the big plan can be accomplished, these things can be discussed."

Shen Duan twirled his prayer beads, remaining silent. Shen Xun stood there, his expression shifting repeatedly, before finally sitting back down.

Shen Ji continued, "But there's one condition that cannot be compromised." All eyes turned to him. Shen Ji's voice was calm: "After this is accomplished, the selection of the new emperor will be decided by the Shen family."

The room fell silent for a moment. Shen Duan stopped counting the prayer beads. Shen Ji lowered his eyes, looking at his hands resting on his knees.

Shen nodded. "Shi Yu is right." He put the letter away and tucked it into his sleeve. "I'll talk to the Cui family. You all mind your own business. Don't say what you shouldn't say, and don't do what you shouldn't do."

The crowd stood up and left one after another.

The courtyard gate was ajar. Shen Ji pushed it open and immediately saw the person slumped behind the desk. Cheng Yan was lying on the desk, his face buried in his arms, breathing evenly.

On that piece of paper, the last line of text was only half-written when the ink bled, obscuring half of the character. Shen Ji walked over and looked down at the paper.

It is the Thousand Character Classic – “Heaven and earth were dark and yellow, the universe was vast and desolate.” There is another line after it, which he added himself: “The sun and moon wax and wane, the stars and constellations are arrayed.” When he wrote the character “arrayed,” his brush tip went crooked, leaving a long ink mark, as if his fingers could not support the brush and slipped down.

Shen Ji stood there for a while, then turned around, went into the house, and took out a thin cloak, which he then covered Cheng Yan with.

Cheng Yan stirred in his dream, mumbled something indistinctly, and then sank back down.

Shen Ji sat down opposite him, picked up the pen that had fallen to the ground, and placed it on the pen mountain.

Moonlight streamed in through the window, falling on half of Cheng Yan's face and casting delicate shadows on his eyelashes.

Shen Ji sat there, looking at the shadow, his fingers tapping lightly on his knees, as if counting something.

Then he stood up and walked to the door. The moonlight made the courtyard look white, and one of the lanterns under the eaves had gone out sometime ago, leaving only one alone, swaying in the wind.

The wind blew in from the other side of the mountain, carrying the chill of late autumn, making his robes flutter.

In the study, Cheng Yan turned over, and his thin cloak slipped off his shoulders.

The sound of a night watchman's drum came from afar. Shen Ji turned around and walked back, gently draping the thin cloak that had slipped off over Cheng Yan again.

The drumbeat sounded again. Shen Ji reached out, picked up the brush from the brush holder, dipped it in ink, and wrote a few words on the blank space of the paper. After finishing, he put down the brush, turned around, and walked out of the study.

When Cheng Yan woke up, it was already broad daylight. He sat up, and his thin cloak slipped from his shoulders to his waist.

He paused, looked down at the cloak, then glanced around. He stood up, folded the cloak neatly, and placed it on the back of the chair. Looking down at the paper, he suddenly stopped.

A few more words appeared in the blank space of the paper, written in bold, powerful strokes, alongside his crooked, illegible line: "Cold comes and heat goes, autumn harvests and winter stores."