Chapter 111 — The Setup
The Sichuan Xie family hadn’t come to send birthday gifts — they had come to reclaim the dowry from years ago.
Whether it was about demanding money or “rewriting the family genealogy,” either was shocking enough on its own. The He clan members who had come for the celebration didn’t say it aloud, but the disbelief was written all over their faces. Many began to glance toward He Shuwei — this time, their shock was even greater than before.
He Shuwei felt as though thorns were pricking his back. Supporting the elderly Madam He beside him, he lowered his head and said nothing, but his trembling hands betrayed him.
Those ten wooden chests that Xie Siquan brought had shattered the confidence he’d built over years.
While the others were still murmuring in the courtyard, He Shuwei barely heard his father’s voice. His ears buzzed, and the only word that came through clearly was “Xie Jing.”
It wasn’t stern nor indulgent — it was that rare tone of a father speaking to his son.
He Shuwei almost couldn’t stand upright.
Old Madam He squeezed his hand anxiously and turned to Xie Siquan for proof. “You say it is so — but where’s the evidence? There must be a witness!”
Xie Siquan clapped his hands. A seventy-year-old woman was led in — dressed in a Sichuan-style gray-blue robe with silver buttons down the diagonal front. It was none other than Granny Kou.
Old Madam He recognized her and her face changed color.
Granny Kou didn’t greet the others — she only bowed toward He Dongting and called out respectfully, “Mister”
He Dongting’s expression flickered. He hurriedly descended the steps, emotion overtaking his face. “Aunt Kou — you’re alive!”
“Yes, this old woman’s still alive.” Her tone was calm. She looked him up and down before sighing softly, “You’ve aged, my mister You’ve gone gray.”
He Dongting’s eyes reddened as he reached to help her, but Granny Kou stepped back and shook her head. “I came to say a few things to you, mister.”
“Please, go ahead,” He Dongting said.
But Xie Siquan interrupted, “This isn’t the place to talk. Bao Bao, come with me.” He looked at He Dongting. “You too.”
He Shuwei saw them heading toward the ancestral hall. His heart jumped violently; his face turned pale and sweat beaded on his forehead. He instinctively wanted to follow, but Xie Siquan turned and glared at him, “If you dare take one more step, I’ll break your legs!”
He Shuwei froze. He had never seen his uncle so furious — this wasn’t suspicion or irritation anymore, but open hatred.
Old Madam He tried to comfort him, “Don’t be afraid, Shuwei. Those rude Sichuan men are always like this. Don’t take it to heart.”
But He Shuwei knew this time was different.
From the very first moment he’d met that man named Xie Jing at the auction, a faint unease had begun to grow. He’d told himself then it had nothing to do with Sichuan — but Xie Siquan’s recognition of him had shattered that illusion.
Through all these years, Xie Siquan had suspected, yet this cunning man never acted without proof. Even when He’s third uncle brought fake antiques and Xie Siquan, in a rage, smashed the He family estate, he hadn’t cut ties.
The Sichuan patriarch was like an old, calculating wolf — his seemingly brash actions were actually tests and warnings. He had left space for his sister’s true bloodline, while making his stance clear to everyone else.
He Shuwei had always been somewhat afraid of him. As a child, his uncle treated him well, but as he grew older, the man’s eyes changed — watching him too long, too closely, until he feared every flaw might expose him.
Recently, that strange temper had worsened; whenever He Shuwei failed to answer questions, Xie Siquan would just click his tongue, leaving him burning with shame.
Inside the ancestral hall
Granny Kou lit incense before the memorial tablet of her late mistress and knelt down, weeping until her voice grew hoarse. Then she recounted all the years of fleeing with young Xie Jing.
Xie Siquan’s eyes reddened, but he held his tears back, clenching his fists.
He Dongting, meanwhile, had long been crying openly — from the moment Granny Kou appeared, he had recognized her as the trusted servant and elder his late wife loved most.
When Granny Kou finished, she said to him, “Mister, I never thought I’d live to see you again. But since I have, there’s something I must tell you. I was there when Jing’er was born — I cut his umbilical cord myself. My lady’s dying wish I’ve never forgotten. I raised the child by my side, watched him grow into a man. She told me that once he was grown, I was to bring him home. I have done as she asked.”
He Dongting, filled with guilt, whispered, “Aunt Kou…”
She continued, “I’m an old woman with one foot in the grave. I don’t want anything — only one thing for Jing’er, please.”
“Don’t say that. Whatever you need, I’ll do it if I can,” he said.
“I want to take my lady home.”
He Dongting froze, staring wide-eyed at her.
Granny Kou struggled to her feet and took the memorial tablet into her arms. The monks nearby tried to stop her, but she refused to let go, crying: “Please, mister, have mercy. Jing’er never once saw his mother, never once knelt before her. How can you bear to let strangers worship in her place? If my lady’s spirit still watches, she would—”
She fell to her knees, and He Dongting panicked, dropping to one knee himself to help her. When he couldn’t lift her, he too knelt down. “Aunt Kou, whatever you want, I’ll agree — but this… this I…”
Xie Siquan stepped forward, pulled He Dongting aside, helped Granny Kou up, and shielded her behind him. His voice was rough, “Bao Bao, take it. I’ll see who dares stop you today!”
He Dongting tried to intervene, but Xie Siquan punched him square in the jaw, shouting, “I’ve had enough of you! When my sister married you, you swore you’d protect her for life — and what happened? My sister is dead! Dead!” Tears finally fell from his reddened eyes.
He Dongting didn’t fight back. He only stared at the tablet in Granny Kou’s arms, clutching Xie Siquan’s sleeve as if in a trance.
Xie Siquan pried his fingers loose one by one, “If you want to guard a fake, then do it for life! You were never worthy of my sister’s love. You’ve spent all these years clinging to lies, mistaking glass for pearls. Pathetic.”
Blood rushed to He Dongting’s head, but he couldn’t refute it.
He had indeed wronged Xie Jing — his and Yuanyuan’s only child, who had suffered so much since birth.
Outside in the courtyard
The Sichuan Xie clan laid out a long list of dowry items and ordered the He family storerooms opened. One by one, they carried things out — where pieces were missing, they were compensated with silver, land deeds, or other valuables. The Xie family didn’t quibble — anything of worth would do.
Old Madam He was heartbroken, but she couldn’t stop them. The visitors had brought forty trained men, and the He had no way to resist.
At the first sign of interference, one of the Sichuan men smashed a grand master’s chair to splinters, and the He clan’s courage collapsed instantly. None dared stand in their way, remembering all too well how Xie Siquan had destroyed the He estate years ago — and how afterward, He Dongting hadn’t blamed them at all.
Old Madam He urged He Shuwei to stop them, but he could only hold her up helplessly.
Then a calm voice came from behind, “Let them take it.”
It was He Dongting, following Xie Siquan and Granny Kou back into the courtyard.
When Old Madam He’s gaze fell upon the object in Granny Kou’s arms, she knew it was bad — even through the black cloth, she guessed what it was.
She lashed out bitterly, “Dongting, wake up! It was the same back then — why are you still obsessed now? Xie Yuan is dead! Will you throw away your family again for that woman’s sake?”
At the mere insult to Xie Yuan, He Dongting’s face darkened. “The old madam is unwell. Send her to the countryside to recuperate.”
His eyes were fixed only on that memorial tablet — on nothing else.
That evening, Xie Siquan returned to the East Courtyard with ten enormous chests.
Afterward, he went to visit Bai Rongjiu.
“You’ve already packed everything?” Bai Rongjiu asked, surprised. “That was faster than I expected.”
“Word travels fast around here, huh?” Xie Siquan said, grinning as he toyed with a jeweled dagger.
Bai Rongjiu nodded. “I’ve heard a bit.”
After a pause, Xie Siquan took out several contracts. “These are for two factories in the eastern suburbs — the ones you’ve been wanting to acquire. Take a look.”
Bai Rongjiu frowned. “Yes, those are the ones. But they weren’t owned by the He family — how do they end up with you?”
“They were about to go under. He Dongting spent over a year buying them up. Why do you think he was so nervous when you planned to build nearby? You thought that auction was him trying to make friends? No — he was probing you. He has a good eye for property, but a terrible one for people.”
Bai Rongjiu didn’t take the papers.
Xie Siquan blinked. “What are you looking at me for? Just take them.”
“I can’t accept reward without cause.”
Xie Siquan clicked his tongue. “You scholars and your scruples! Fine, fine — consider it thanks for taking care of Jing’er all these years. I mean it. It’ll make me happy if you take it — better you than those bastards.”
Bai Rongjiu said, “Then I’ll take it in Jing’er’s name — an investment for his future.”
Xie Siquan waved it off. “As you like.” Then he asked, “Where is Jing’er, anyway? Haven’t seen him today.”
“Hu Da took him riding this morning. They should be back soon.”
“That turtle Hu Da — probably still loitering around the stables! No lunch either, I bet!” he grumbled, heading out to find them.
Just then, he ran into them at the gate.
Xie Jing was with a bodyguard Xie Siquan didn’t recognize, quietly discussing something. When the guard saw Xie Siquan, he immediately fell silent and stepped aside.
Ignoring them, Xie Siquan went up, pushed Hu Da out of the way, and personally took Xie Jing’s reins. “Had fun today, Jing’er?” he asked, smiling.
Still on horseback, Xie Jing frowned, “Uncle — is He Dongting doing business with the Japanese?”
“No, no,” Xie Siquan waved. “It’s about rescuing a few students, that’s all — some misunderstandings got mixed in.”
Xie Jing’s expression eased slightly.
Thinking he’d smoothed things over, Xie Siquan grinned — but Xie Jing then asked, “Why did you bring empty boxes to the He estate today?”
“Ah, that—” He rubbed his neck. “Just reclaiming what’s ours. Some was yours, some things I gave them over the years. Can’t let outsiders have it, right? I made some mistakes back then — gave too much away. All that’s yours now.”
“You didn’t start a fight?”
“Of course not! Your uncle talked it out nicely.”
Xie Jing studied him for a moment before nodding and preparing to dismount.
Xie Siquan stopped him, leading the horse himself while chatting about his trip back to Sichuan.
“Uncle,” Xie Jing called softly.
“Mm? What is it?”
“I’m not your pawn in this feud.”
Xie Siquan turned to him quickly. “Of course you’re not! Mr. Bai told you? I wasn’t hiding anything, just too busy. I had to handle family matters back west. I’d already arranged all this with Mr. Bai. Your father — He Dongting — he’s starting to suspect things. The people behind him are well hidden. I had to stir the waters before we could catch the fish.”
As they walked, Xie Siquan rambled on, cursing the He family one by one — calling the third uncle a useless scoundrel, saying only He Dongting had any real talent, though even he was blind when it came to people.
“Shuwei’s acting was too good,” he concluded. “I had to set up this trap to catch both him and that old fox behind him.”
“Third Uncle?” Xie Jing asked.
“No. He’s got the nerve but not the guts. Someone else is backing him.” He sighed. “Your father’s life has been miserable — the one he loved most is gone, and now he clings to the past, unable to move on.”
“Poor man,” he added.
“Jing’er, when you meet someone you love, don’t fall too deep. It’s not worth it.”
Xie Jing dismounted. “Don’t worry, Uncle. I know my limits.”
Xie Siquan took his hand and suddenly grinned. “So — there is someone you like? Have I met them?”
Xie Jing lifted his riding crop, lightly flicked open his uncle’s collar, revealing the faint red mark at his throat, and asked evenly, “You seem to have someone by your side too, Uncle. Who is it?”
Author’s note:
Bai Rongjiu: “It’s New Year. I’ll have my child pay you respects.”
Bai Rongjiu: “Bai Er.”
Bai Mingyu: “???”
