Chapter 109: There Was No True or False Heir at All?
The Marquis of Divine Might’s carriage also arrived. A noble lady adorned with pearls and jade came forth, bringing Zhao Qingchan along, while the Divine Martial Marquis himself followed slightly behind.
Shen Zhigao and several clan elders hurriedly stepped forward to greet them.
As an old-established noble household, the foundation of the Marquis of Divine Might’s Residence had long been the envy of many. If the two families were to join in marriage, they would surely become one of the new first-rate families in the capital.
Now that Shen Tian’s hysteria had improved somewhat, it was time to discuss the matter of marriage.
“Senior Sister Zhao.”
Liu Zi’an, bringing along Qi Haoran, also stepped forward to greet Zhao Qingchan.
Zhao Qingchan was still dressed in plain attire, without a touch of makeup, yet her natural beauty and cold, ethereal temperament made her seem untouched by worldly dust.
A faint smile appeared on Qi Haoran’s face as he was about to speak, but then, recalling Zhao Qingchan’s current situation, he swallowed his words and silently followed behind Liu Zi’an, playing the part of a proper guest.
“This fine young man must be Qi Haoran, whom you mentioned to me before, Qingchan?”
“Indeed, quite a talented one—a born scholar with the makings of a future Grand Confucian.”
The noble lady intentionally or unintentionally cast her gaze toward Qi Haoran, her tone gentle and smiling.
She was Zhao Qingchan’s birth mother, and the mistress of the Marquis of Divine Might’s Residence.
“I have seen Madam Marquis.”
Qi Haoran was taken aback. He had never expected Zhao Qingchan to have spoken of him to her mother.
A faint delight rose in his heart—a feeling of being acknowledged. He quickly stepped forward and bowed.
“Yes, Mother. He is Qi Haoran. Despite his youth, he is already one of the core seeds of the Confucian Courtyard. In this year’s provincial examination, he will certainly rank among the top three.”
Zhao Qingchan nodded slightly, her tone calm as ever.
“In the past, that might have been called a genius indeed. But now, in the capital, it seems a bit lacking,” the noble lady said with a smile, withdrawing her gaze from Qi Haoran.
Zhao Qingchan remained silent.
A wave of humiliation rose in Qi Haoran’s chest. In the past, he might have brushed it aside—after all, his cultivation of virtue had taught him restraint. Yet the woman before him was Zhao Qingchan’s mother.
Could it be that she, too, wished to push Zhao Qingchan into the fire pit?
“Madam, have you not heard the saying: do not look down on the young and poor? It is true I cannot compare to those so-called geniuses now, but what of the future?”
“The heavens and earth have yet to be decided; you and I could both be dark horses. Who knows who will stand at the peak in the end?”
Qi Haoran took a step forward. At this moment, the usual scholarly grace on him was gone, replaced by a sharp, youthful spirit.
The beautiful lady clearly had not expected this young man to speak to her in such a manner.
Yet she was not angered. Instead, she smiled gently and took her daughter’s hand, saying, “Pretty words are easy to say, but Qingchan’s marriage is not something she can decide herself. And you, a mere hostage prince of Qi, what can you possibly change?”
“If my Marquis of Divine Might’s Residence joins with the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion, either heir we choose would outshine you by far. What do you have to compete with?”
Her lightly mocking words made Qi Haoran pause. Helplessness flooded his heart, only to be quickly replaced by fierce courage and pride.
The more others looked down on him, the more he would fight to prove them wrong.
A true gentleman’s spine must remain unbending—how could he yield to a few mocking words?
“I will prove that I am no lesser than either of them,” Qi Haoran said confidently, his eyes burning as he looked at Zhao Qingchan.
But Zhao Qingchan only lowered her gaze, not meeting his eyes.
The ministers who had arrived for the gathering all stopped in surprise at the sight of this little drama at the gates—a young man declaring affection before everyone. They paused with amusement, watching the show.
The Divine Martial Marquis and Shen Zhigao also turned their eyes that way.
“Qingchan truly is exceptional. Over the years, I imagine many have tried to step through the Marquis of Divine Might’s gates,” Shen Zhigao sighed.
The Divine Martial Marquis only smiled faintly.
“What a fine saying—‘The heavens and earth have yet to be decided; you and I could both be dark horses…’”
At that moment, a gentle, approving voice suddenly rang out.
“Your Highness.”
The ministers at the gate, who had been watching the spectacle, immediately turned and bowed toward the source of the voice.
A middle-aged man in a splendid robe approached. His temples were streaked with white, his features still handsome with traces of youth, and his eyes deep and warm. He looked more like a refined scholar than a battle-hardened prince.
It was none other than the Demon Suppression King, Shen Jingxiao.
Behind him stood a young man, also in fine robes—his face was handsome and firm, his eyes dark as ink, his posture upright, exuding faint traces of the bearing of a battlefield veteran.
“This True Heir looks far better in both bearing and complexion than when I last saw him outside the capital.”
Many ministers were astonished. Shen Tian’s complexion indeed looked more natural and steady now, not as ferocious and unhinged as before.
Could it really be that he had suffered from hysteria?
“Your Highness.”
Qi Haoran stood frozen for a moment, his breathing slightly quickened. He had never imagined that the mighty Demon Suppression King would take notice of him and even walk straight toward him. Hastily, he bowed in salute.
“Youthful spirit is only natural. If you like something, then fight for it—why not?”
“In you, this king sees something of his younger self. Only, back then, I lacked your courage and boldness.”
Shen Jingxiao’s tone was warm and approving as he gently patted Qi Haoran’s shoulder.
Seeing the Demon Suppression King showing such appreciation, the ministers who had been merely watching now all chimed in with praise.
Even the Marquis’s wife, who had not thought much of Qi Haoran earlier, smiled and said, “Your Highness is right. This young man’s spirit is indeed admirable. An ordinary scholar would never dare to speak such words on such an occasion.”
In the blink of an eye, everyone’s attitude toward Qi Haoran, the hostage prince of Qi, had changed completely.
Qi Haoran himself was taken aback by it all.
He had once held some resentment toward the Demon Suppression King, believing that it was by his will that the Marquis’s Residence and the Prince’s Mansion planned this marriage alliance.
“You young people should spend more time together and get to know each other.”
Shen Jingxiao turned to the young man behind him and said.
“Yes, Father.”
At that moment, Shen Tian’s mind seemed much clearer. His tone was calm and composed, even bearing a trace of the tempered air of a soldier.
As the saying went, one could not strike a smiling face. Since the Demon Suppression King had spoken so pleasantly, Qi Haoran took the opportunity to step down gracefully, greeting Shen Tian first: “I have seen the Heir.”
“You like Zhao Qingchan?”
Shen Tian nodded slightly. His tone was calm, yet to Qi Haoran’s ears, there was a faint trace of arrogance and disdain.
It was not the first time he had been asked this blunt question.
Back at the Dragon-Tiger Institute, Shen Yanzhou had also asked him the same thing. It had nearly unsettled him then, but he had adjusted his mindset in time, facing his true feelings with calm acceptance.
“To answer the Heir—yes, I do like Senior Sister Zhao.”
Qi Haoran took a deep breath and replied with a bow.
Shen Tian gave a cold laugh and said indifferently, “Father has already said that the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion will form a marriage alliance with the Marquis of Divine Might’s Residence. Zhao Qingchan will marry me in the end. You have no chance. Give up.”
Qi Haoran’s expression stiffened.
He felt that this Heir Shen was not easy to get along with. Did he not know that such bluntness easily offended people?
Or did he simply not care?
The ministers gathered before the mansion’s gates were all silently observing, listening to the exchange between Qi Haoran and Shen Tian.
Those who had believed Shen Tian’s hysteria had improved now secretly shook their heads.
So this was his true temperament—not particularly bad, but certainly not admirable either. He lacked the courtesy and tact that one of his station should possess.
Some had even thought that, since the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion now had two heirs, and one was to marry into the Marquis’s Residence, perhaps the other might be open to marriage with their own families.
But now, they were all hoping it would be Shen Tian who married Zhao Qingchan. Although Shen Yanzhou had once been arrogant and unruly, it had been a deliberate act of concealing his true nature. There was no need for such pretense anymore.
In every respect, Shen Yanzhou was far superior to Shen Tian—the only difference being that Shen Yanzhou had no claim to the Demon Suppression King’s title.
The Demon Suppression King, Shen Jingxiao, took in the subtle changes in the ministers’ expressions but paid them no heed.
To him, Shen Tian’s current condition was already satisfactory—at least he was not raving mad or losing control.
So what if his speech was blunt or lacking in manners?
“Where is that fellow Shen Yanzhou? At this hour, the Chilin Guards should have been dismissed from duty. Why hasn’t he returned yet? Surely he doesn’t intend to keep everyone waiting?”
Shen Zhigao and the others accompanying the ministers still lingered outside the mansion. After all, they had come to celebrate Shen Yanzhou’s appointment as Thousand-Household Commander—yet the man himself had yet to appear.
This also made the faces of several Clan Elders turn slightly unpleasant.
Even the ministers chatting nearby showed strange expressions, whispering guesses among themselves.
“Shen Yanzhou and the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion don’t seem to have a good relationship. With such an invitation, he might not even come.”
“Then perhaps tomorrow there will be a farce to laugh at…”
Liu Zi’an deliberately lowered his voice to speak to Qi Haoran.
Qi Haoran said nothing; he didn’t wish to meddle in private matters on such an occasion.
All the ministers present possessed uncommon cultivation. Though Liu Zi’an spoke softly, many still heard his words.
The old Duke glared at his grandson, but Liu Zi’an only grinned, utterly unconcerned.
“No rush. Perhaps something urgent delayed him at the Chilin Guards.”
“Tonight’s event is of great importance. Zhou’er would never miss it. Waiting a bit more won’t hurt.”
Shen Jingxiao’s expression remained gentle as he spoke, taking the initiative to comfort several Clan Elders, seemingly oblivious to the shifting looks around him.
He knew well that Shen Yanzhou harbored resentment. Even if he had compromised, he would surely protest in some other way—to express his dissatisfaction.
Being late like this, deliberately making everyone wait, must be his way of humiliating Shen Jingxiao before the ministers.
If it had been before, Shen Jingxiao might have been angry. But now, he regarded it as a mischievous son acting out—something he could easily tolerate.
His words made everyone present reassess the relationship between Shen Yanzhou and the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion.
Could it be that all those rumors and speculations had been wrong?
Yet many had heard that since joining the Chilin Guards, Shen Yanzhou hadn’t returned to the Prince’s Mansion even once.
And the scene outside the Imperial Capital, when the two nearly came to blows like fire and water—many still remembered it vividly.
While the ministers whispered and speculated, the sound of carriage wheels grinding over the bluestone street echoed.
From the eastern alleyway, several Chilin Guards hurriedly drove a black lacquered carriage toward them.
“Look, Zhou’er has come after all.”
Shen Jingxiao’s gaze fell upon it, his smile unchanged and his tone calm as he took the lead in walking forward.
Seeing this, the ministers followed closely behind.
Soon, the black carriage stopped steadily before Shen Jingxiao. The Chilin Guards hastily lifted the rear curtain and said, “My lord, we’ve returned to the Prince’s Mansion.”
“Oh? So soon?”
A slightly surprised voice came from within.
At that moment, everyone finally saw Shen Yanzhou seated inside. A luminous jade stone hung beside him, casting a soft glow through the carriage. Before him was a low table with stacks of case files piled atop it.
The young man’s brows were furrowed. In one hand, he held a file; in the other, a brush, as though he were in the middle of reviewing it.
He wore a moon-white robe embroidered with cloud patterns, a plain belt around his waist, and a token symbolizing the rank of a Thousand-Household Commander of the Chilin Guards. His features were strikingly refined, his build tall and lean.
Even that side profile—lit by the faint light as he worked through the files—made the eyes of the noble ladies before the mansion gleam with admiration, unable to look away.
Even the wife of the Divine Martial Marquis couldn’t help her eyes brightening, struck once again by his growing handsomeness.
She had seen Shen Yanzhou in person before, but each time, it felt as though his bearing and looks had subtly transformed—now giving off an almost otherworldly grace.
“He actually matches my daughter rather well.”
Instinctively glancing at her daughter Zhao Qingchan, who was also staring at the young man in the carriage, the Marquis’s wife covered her mouth with a smile.
While the women were all lost in their thoughts, the ministers felt a strange disbelief upon seeing Shen Yanzhou.
This man—once the infamous wastrel of the capital, known for arrogance and vice—
Now, even while traveling, he was reviewing case files?
“I’ve kept Father and the honored lords waiting. The Chilin Guards uncovered several major cases recently that required urgent investigation. I truly couldn’t get away.”
“I had no intention of making everyone stand in the cold waiting at the gate.”
As the gazes turned toward him, Shen Yanzhou set aside the files and brush, dusted off his robe, and stepped down from the carriage with a polite smile.
The Demon Suppression King, Shen Jingxiao, narrowed his eyes slightly, surprised to find that Shen Yanzhou truly had been working.
Sweeping his martial will across the carriage, he confirmed that the documents were genuine—real cases being handled, not a staged act.
So he hadn’t deliberately delayed his arrival to embarrass him?
For a brief moment, Shen Jingxiao couldn’t quite read his son—but soon dismissed the thought.
“The Chilin Guards handle many cases. Understandable to be a bit late. Tonight, after all, is your celebration banquet.”
“Come in now, lest the dishes grow cold.” Shen Jingxiao’s tone was once again gentle.
“Thank you, Father, for hosting tonight’s event.”
Shen Yanzhou smiled as well, his tone natural, showing no trace of discord between them.
The ministers exchanged confused glances. The two appeared every bit the harmonious father and filial son.
Was this genuine—or merely an act?
Qi Haoran and Liu Zi’an found the sight eerie. Surely they hadn’t been pretending hostility all along?
Shen Yanzhou deliberately looked toward Shen Tian standing behind, greeting him with a friendly smile. “Tian, you seem much better. Looks like the hysteria has eased.”
Shen Tian’s eyes reddened, faint blood threads visible as his breathing quickened. The rage inside screamed that Shen Yanzhou was the cause of all his suffering—but reason barely held him back from acting rashly as he had outside the Capital’s gates.
“Still… all right,” he replied coldly, restraining himself at last.
Shen Jingxiao was quite satisfied with Shen Yanzhou’s current attitude. His own smile deepened as he patted Shen Yanzhou’s shoulder and led him toward the mansion.
Along the way, he even thought that, had he known his son possessed such talent, things might have been different for the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion.
But back then, circumstances had not allowed it—the imperial will was unpredictable, the emperor’s heart even more so.
Fortunately, now everything seemed to be returning to the right path.
The ministers followed behind, watching the two talk warmly. A strange thought arose in many minds—had everyone been deceived by Shen Jingxiao’s scheme all along?
Could it be that there was never a “true” and “false” heir at all?
Impossible. If that were true, it would be a crime of deceiving the emperor himself—for Shen Jingxiao had publicly acknowledged it before the court.
Everyone realized that by tomorrow, the capital would surely buzz with rumors again.
Many noble families would spend the night speculating, reassessing the relationship between Shen Yanzhou and Shen Jingxiao.
Inside the Water Pavilion of the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion, the banquet tables were neatly lined, and servants began bringing in the dishes one by one.
The Princess Consort, Yu Chenyu, who hadn’t appeared earlier, now joined the feast. Simply dressed, her hair coiled high, her slender neck exposed—she looked elegant and dignified.
As the evening’s central figure, Shen Yanzhou, after taking his seat, stood to toast the attending ministers one by one. His manners were precise, leaving no fault to be found—every guest felt honored.
The Clan Elders who had worried he might cause trouble relaxed at last.
Shen Jingxiao, too, wore a faint smile throughout.
In his eyes, Shen Yanzhou’s conduct tonight was a statement of submission—his complete concession.
From this night onward, Shen Yanzhou would be forever within his grasp.
At the banquet, several ministers who had once thought Shen Yanzhou proud and arrogant found him suddenly much more agreeable. They began introducing the young noblewomen they had brought along.
Shen Yanzhou, ever courteous, raised his cup to greet each one. Recognizing a few familiar faces—ladies the original Shen Yanzhou had once flirted with—he smiled apologetically and toasted them in turn.
After his charming demeanor and words of apology, the young noblewomen’s eyes shimmered with tears, their long legs pressed together shyly, almost wishing to pull him aside to whisper under the moonlight.
Meanwhile, Shen Tian, supposedly another main figure of the evening, paled in comparison to Shen Yanzhou’s brilliance.
Even though Shen Zhigao and a few Clan Elders tried to help him make acquaintances among the officials, Shen Tian’s dull mind only led to awkward moments.
To foster closeness between Shen Tian and Yu Chenyu, they had arranged the mother and son’s seats nearby.
Throughout, however, Yu Chenyu spoke little—eating quietly and elegantly.
“Tian, you and your mother haven’t seen each other for a long time. Take this chance tonight to grow closer.”
“Go, offer your mother a toast, maybe serve her some dishes…”
Believing that Shen Tian alone was worthy of the heirship, Shen Zhigao urged him constantly.
Though his mind was clouded, Shen Tian instinctively felt he should be closer to Yu Chenyu—his birth mother—a longing etched deep in his soul.
“Mother, please eat.”
Obediently, he stood, picked up a glistening piece of meat, and moved to place it into her bowl.
Yu Chenyu, graceful and composed throughout the feast, kept a pleasant smile. But when she saw the food approaching, her brows knit slightly.
Clack!
A crisp sound of chopsticks striking rang out, knocking the morsel from his grip.
Shen Tian froze, staring blankly—then his eyes reddened with fury.
“Shen Yanzhou, you—!”
Already filled with suppressed rage toward him, Shen Tian could no longer contain it. Seeing Shen Yanzhou strike away the food meant for his mother ignited that fury once more, his voice chillingly cold.
The ministers, caught mid-meal and drink, hadn’t expected such a scene. Interest immediately lit their eyes—perhaps tonight really would have some drama to watch.