Chapter 110: Discussion of the Marriage Alliance, The Night Was Beautiful but Tinged with Green
The once lively banquet suddenly fell so silent that a pin could be heard dropping, as countless gazes turned toward the source of disturbance.
Even Shen Jingxiao furrowed his brows ever so slightly, not expecting Shen Yanzhou—who had behaved so properly the entire evening—to suddenly stir up trouble.
“Shen Yanzhou, what are you trying to do?”
Shen Zhigao and the others couldn’t help but rebuke him aloud. In their eyes, Shen Yanzhou must still be harboring resentment, deliberately provoking Shen Tian.
A clan elder nearby quickly grabbed Shen Tian’s arm, fearing he might lose control again in such a formal setting.
Many of the attending officials did not think the situation troublesome at all; on the contrary, they watched with great interest.
Zhao Qingchan, Qi Haoran, Liu Zi’an, and the others also turned their eyes toward Shen Yanzhou.
Princess Consort Yu Chenyu appeared somewhat surprised but did not reprimand Shen Yanzhou. Instead, she looked down at the piece of meat that had fallen onto the floor.
“What’s the matter?”
At that moment, Shen Yanzhou seemed rather puzzled by everyone’s exaggerated reaction.
He turned to Shen Zhigao and the others, looking genuinely confused.
“What’s the matter? You’re still asking what’s the matter? Can’t you see what you just did?”
“Tian’er was only showing filial respect by serving his mother some food, and you blocked him—what did you mean by that?” Shen Zhigao scolded coldly.
“Third Grandfather, have you forgotten that Mother breaks out in rashes from chicken? There’s never any chicken served in the meals within Emerald Bamboo Courtyard.” Shen Yanzhou asked with a serious expression.
Of course, he was making that up. In an ancient setting, there was no such concept as “allergy.” Illnesses like “peach blossom rash” were likely caused by such things.
Yu Chenyu was certainly not allergic to chicken—it was simply her obsession with cleanliness. She would never touch food that had been picked up with someone else’s chopsticks.
Shen Tian had used his own chopsticks to serve Yu Chenyu, which naturally displeased her greatly.
Normally, she would never have eaten it, but given the occasion, she likely would have forced herself to swallow it for the sake of appearances.
Shen Yanzhou knew Yu Chenyu all too well. Having been away from the mansion for several days, if he didn’t take this chance to regain her favor, he might find himself coldly received later.
He also wanted to glean some information from Yu Chenyu about the situation in Beiyu.
Hearing this, Shen Zhigao froze, his face shifting between colors.
Yu Chenyu gets rashes from chicken?
He truly had no idea—and never cared for such small matters anyway.
Even the Demon Suppression King, Shen Jingxiao, showed a trace of confusion. Clearly, this was the first he had heard of it.
After all, the number of times he and Princess Consort Yu Chenyu had eaten at the same table could be counted on one hand, and he had never paid attention to her preferences.
“Tian’er meant well. Speak properly—no need for such rash movements. On a day like this, do you wish to make people laugh at us?”
Yu Chenyu finally spoke.
She first gave Shen Yanzhou a reproachful glare before mildly scolding.
“Yes, Mother is right. It was inconsiderate of me—I acted too hastily,” Shen Yanzhou quickly replied.
Then, he turned to Shen Tian with a face full of sincerity. “Brother Tian, you won’t blame me, will you?”
The sugary tone of those words only made Shen Tian’s expression worsen, yet he truly could find no grounds to argue.
He genuinely hadn’t known Yu Chenyu avoided chicken.
But could Shen Yanzhou not have simply spoken up privately?
Did he have to embarrass him in front of everyone?
Those who had been expecting a good show were somewhat disappointed, though many did notice the subtle changes on the faces of the clan elders from the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion.
Could it be that they, too, hadn’t known of Princess Consort Yu Chenyu’s aversion?
After all these years of marriage, no one cared about her preferences?
Even the Demon Suppression King himself seemed unaware.
The officials couldn’t help letting their imaginations run wild.
“No wonder the Princess Consort favors Shen Yanzhou so much. He knows exactly how to please her—remembering even such details… hmph.” Shen Zhigao snorted inwardly but chose not to pursue the matter further.
For the grand banquet, it was merely a small interlude.
Under the persuasion of the clan elders, Shen Tian slowly calmed down. Since he couldn’t offer food, he could still offer wine, right?
Yet even that didn’t go smoothly.
Whispering, chaotic voices rang in his mind, buzzing incessantly. The calm he had just regained gave way once more to agitation and irritability, as violent emotions stirred.
He tried to suppress them, but the wine cup in his hand began to tremble.
In the eyes of the onlookers, it seemed that when Shen Tian raised his cup to toast his “birth mother,” Yu Chenyu, his emotions were so stirred that some of the wine spilled, wetting the hem of her robe.
Even Shen Jingxiao—usually calm and composed—had not expected Shen Tian to relapse again. His expression darkened slightly, and he immediately summoned servants to escort Shen Tian away.
Yu Chenyu glanced down at her soaked robe, her gaze sweeping faintly toward Shen Yanzhou before she rose from her seat, excusing herself to change clothes.
Though her expression remained composed, all the officials could tell something was off.
What kind of mother treated her son with such indifference?
Could the rumors be true—that there was never a real and false heir to begin with?
As for Shen Yanzhou—the very instigator—he simply watched Shen Tian being taken away, then smiled lightly, raised his cup again, and went on to toast the others.
Shen Jingxiao’s gaze deepened.
Shen Tian’s sudden relapse seemed too coincidental.
Back outside the Imperial City, it had also been Shen Yanzhou’s appearance that triggered his madness.
Was it deliberate manipulation—or merely Shen Yanzhou’s presence that provoked him?
“He must learn proper rules. Shen Tian is the true heir, bearing my bloodline. Shen Yanzhou, born of a mere courtesan, may have stumbled upon fortune and opportunity, but that will never change his lowly birth…”
The thought flashed through Shen Jingxiao’s mind before his expression returned to calm.
After several rounds of wine, many officials grew tipsy and began taking their leave, escorted out by the clan elders.
Seeing the timing was right, the Divine Martial Marquis also rose, saying with a smile, “Since both heirs are here today—and though Heir Shen Tian’s health is delicate, it is clear he’s improved greatly—it’s time we proceed with the marriage alliance discussion.”
The words instantly sobered everyone present.
Even Qi Haoran, who had been drinking with his friend Liu Zi’an, jolted upright and glanced toward Zhao Qingchan, who sat across the table beside the Marquis’s wife.
Shen Jingxiao nodded slightly. “Indeed, the matter should be settled. It has been months since we first discussed it. Brother Jinghe, what are your thoughts?”
The Divine Martial Marquis’s given name was Zhao Jinghe—only close acquaintances addressed him so.
“My thoughts are simple,” Zhao Jinghe said with a genial smile. “All present here are distinguished figures of the court. Before such witnesses, our two houses joining by marriage, bound by kinship, would only strengthen our alliance—a most auspicious affair.”
Notably, he did not specify which heir he intended the match for.
But Shen Jingxiao already had a plan.
Any marriage alliance with the Marquis of Divine Might’s Residence would naturally involve his own legitimate son.
Those earlier rumors pairing Shen Yanzhou and Zhao Qingchan had merely been smokescreens—he would never truly allow such a match.
“Tian’er and Qingchan are of similar age. I think they suit each other well,” Shen Jingxiao said with a warm smile.
Zhao Jinghe chuckled and nodded. “Then let it be as His Highness wishes.”
What mattered to him was the title of the Demon Suppression King’s heir; who the person was hardly mattered—so long as that individual inherited the title.
Seeing the two men finalize the marriage so swiftly, Qi Haoran’s face went pale. He wanted to object but lacked the courage.
He looked toward Zhao Qingchan, who happened to glance back.
When she saw he did not move, the faint glimmer in her eyes dimmed, and she lowered her gaze.
Qi Haoran’s heart clenched, his fists tightening. It felt as if something that should have been his was slipping away.
“Wait—”
Just as the gathered officials were about to witness this “auspicious union,” an ill-timed voice rang out.
It was Shen Yanzhou, who had been laughing and drinking with several noble ladies. As though just noticing the situation, he put down his cup and walked over, smiling.
“Yanzhou, what do you wish to say?”
Shen Jingxiao looked at him, brows twitching slightly, though his tone remained calm.
“The marriage alliance between our mansion and the Marquis’s is indeed a joyous affair—but I think Father shouldn’t be so quick to play matchmaker,” Shen Yanzhou said seriously.
At his words, even Zhao Jinghe turned to him in surprise.
The rest of the officials all held their breath.
“What do you mean by that—‘playing matchmaker at random’?” Shen Jingxiao asked.
“Qingchan and I share mutual affection. She accepted my courtship some time ago, yet Father suddenly announces today that she is to be married to Brother Tian? If that isn’t a random matchmaking farce, then what is?” Shen Yanzhou said.
“When did this happen? Don’t talk nonsense.”
Shen Jingxiao frowned slightly.
The Divine Martial Marquis, Zhao Jinghe, turned to Zhao Qingchan in confusion, as if to confirm whether it was true.
“I’m not talking nonsense. If Father doesn’t believe me, he can ask Qingchan directly.” Shen Yanzhou’s expression remained calm and composed.
At that moment, as all eyes turned toward her, Zhao Qingchan also rose from her seat.
She looked toward Shen Jingxiao and said, “Uncle Shen, I’ve been meaning to tell you and Father about this, but I haven’t found a proper opportunity.”
That statement was essentially a tacit admission of what Shen Yanzhou had just said.
Shen Jingxiao’s expression darkened slightly.
Zhao Jinghe also fell silent.
Neither had expected such a situation to arise tonight. Had it been discussed privately, they could have easily dismissed the so-called “personal affection” between the two young people.
But with so many officials of the court as witnesses, refusing them outright would appear cold and unfeeling—and tomorrow, the Imperial Capital would surely be abuzz with gossip.
That would bring no good to either the Marquis of Divine Might’s Residence or the Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion.
The gathered officials exchanged subtle looks. Many lifted their cups with faint smiles, taking quiet sips.
“Since Qingchan herself has feelings for him, let her decide her own marriage,” came the soft voice of the Marquis’s wife, who gently pulled her daughter back down to sit beside her.
Although Shen Tian was the true heir, she did not favor him.
It was Shen Yanzhou she truly liked—from the bottom of her heart. Even if he had no right of inheritance now, that could change in the future.
If he achieved more military merit, he might well be promoted again. For someone so young to already hold the rank of Hundred-Household Commander, even the Demon Suppression King himself had not matched that in his youth.
“My lady speaks well. Perhaps the marriage alliance can be discussed another time?” Zhao Jinghe said with a light shake of his head.
Shen Jingxiao gave Shen Yanzhou a deep, meaningful glance. So, all that obedient behavior earlier tonight—was this what he had been waiting for?
To stop the marriage alliance between the two houses?
But what good would that do him?
It seemed Shen Yanzhou still hadn’t fully yielded. He’d have to be taught a lesson.
“Very well, we’ll discuss it another day. Young people today treat affection lightly—what they like one day, they may dislike the next. A matter as grave as marriage must not be decided so rashly.”
He smiled faintly as he said this.
No further discussion of the alliance followed; the two turned instead to talk of other happenings in the capital, and the rest of the officials joined in the chatter.
At the back of the hall, Qi Haoran finally exhaled in relief, though his heart felt oddly hollow.
If only he had Shen Yanzhou’s courage, he might have stood up just now—but no, even if he did, it would have made no difference.
Unless he held Shen Yanzhou’s current prestige, favored by Emperor Mingde himself, he could never have dared to intervene in such a matter.
“Senior Sister Zhao…”
Qi Haoran looked toward Zhao Qingchan.
At that moment, Shen Yanzhou, his handsome face calm and smiling, walked over to Zhao Qingchan’s seat. He leaned slightly and extended his hand. “The moonlight is beautiful tonight. The water pavilion’s lotuses should be blooming soon. Shall we go see them together?”
Zhao Qingchan pressed her lips together in hesitation. Yet under her mother’s gentle, approving gaze, she finally extended her slender hand before everyone.
The moment their hands touched, Qi Haoran’s eyes widened. His breath caught in his throat, his body tensing as he nearly rose from his seat.
Though he had long admired his Senior Sister, he had always maintained the proper distance—never once had there been physical contact.
But Shen Yanzhou…
Before all these witnesses at the banquet, he had held her jade-like hand so openly.
Even reciting the words of the sages in his mind could not calm Qi Haoran’s surging emotions. His breathing quickened uncontrollably.
Shen Yanzhou…
His teeth clenched, fists curling tight. Hatred and jealousy burned inside him like an erupting volcano.
“Brother Qi, calm down. You wouldn’t want Senior Sister Zhao to feel awkward right now, would you?”
Liu Zi’an quickly tugged at his sleeve, sending a quiet voice transmission.
Qi Haoran’s fists creaked from the force of his grip.
He hated it—envied it—why should Shen Yanzhou so easily hold that slender hand?
At the banquet, the others looked upon the pair of strikingly matched young people, unable to speak further.
The noble ladies who had been laughing with Shen Yanzhou earlier couldn’t help but feel jealous. Why wasn’t it their hand he held?
Yet they knew very well—in family, talent, and beauty—none of them could compare with Zhao Qingchan.
Soon, Shen Yanzhou used the excuse of “admiring the moon” to take Zhao Qingchan away.
Their figures receded down the corridor by the water pavilion.
“I’m feeling a little unwell. I’ll step out for a moment,”
Qi Haoran said hurriedly to his friend, afraid Zhao Qingchan might be taken advantage of. Without waiting for a reply, he rose and followed them out.
Liu Zi’an guessed his thoughts but could do nothing to stop him, only sigh silently.
The Demon Suppression Prince’s Mansion was vast, its corridors winding and lanterns hanging from every eave. Yet near the water pavilion, the lighting grew dim.
Only faint moonlight shimmered on the pond’s surface, scattering into rippling waves like shards of gold.
Qi Haoran summoned his literary qi. A brush appeared in his hand, and he wrote the character “敛” (Conceal) into the air, cloaking his form and aura before silently following along the corridor.
He truly worried, for he knew Zhao Qingchan had only accepted Shen Yanzhou’s pursuit under pressure.
Allowing him to hold her hand before so many tonight was likely the greatest concession she could make.
Though Shen Yanzhou’s reputation had improved greatly of late, if he were truly a gentleman, he wouldn’t have coerced her by threatening her under the guise of “helping her.”
To Qi Haoran, Shen Yanzhou’s actions were little better than those of a petty man.
This late at night, to “admire the moon and lotus flowers”? Only Shen Yanzhou knew his real intentions.
If he dared act indecently toward his Senior Sister, Qi Haoran vowed to stop him.
“How long do you intend to keep holding my hand?”
From a short distance away, carried by the cool night breeze, came Zhao Qingchan’s faintly cold voice.
Still holding her hand?
Qi Haoran’s heart clenched tighter—another reason to rid himself of Shen Yanzhou someday.
“As long as I want to. Not only will I hold it, I’ll savor it carefully…”
Shen Yanzhou’s teasing voice drifted through the night air.
Qi Haoran’s mind went blank; his teeth nearly shattered from the force of his bite. What vulgar words! His hatred for Shen Yanzhou deepened further.
He took several deep breaths to calm himself. If it was only hand-holding, he could tolerate it.
“…”
Zhao Qingchan fell silent.
The two walked together along the floating bridge toward the pavilion deep within the water pavilion.
“So tell me,” Shen Yanzhou’s playful tone carried through the air, “didn’t I help you a lot tonight? I managed to delay the marriage alliance for you—how should you thank me?”
“How do you want me to thank you?” Zhao Qingchan’s cool voice replied.