Encountering a Snake - Chapter 23

In the afternoon sunshine, Shen Qingxuan sat at his desk, fiddling with a thin letter. Resting his chin on his hand, he read and pondered over his reply while stifling a yawn, looking utterly lazy. After the yawn, with tears in his eyes, he put down the letter, rubbed his eyes for a moment, and then simply lay down on the desk, burying his face in his elbows, as if about to nap.

 

Yi Mo, reclining on the nearby divan, held a book in hand. Although he appeared somewhat indifferent, he read with a degree of seriousness that made it hard for Shen Qingxuan to concentrate, despite his yawns. Putting down the book, Yi Mo said, “Whose letter is making you look like this?”

 

Shen Qingxuan, not lifting his head, replied in a muffled voice, “My brother’s letter.” After a slight pause, he grumbled, “This child is skilled with writing, but when it comes to family letters, he writes like a three-year-old, babbling endlessly. He repeats the same thing eight or nine times in a single sentence without a hint of brevity. I can almost smell his drool on the paper.”

 

Yi Mo said, “Let me see.” He reached out, and the small sheets of paper on the desk flew into his hands.

 

Indeed, the five or six pages were filled with repetitive content: missing home, longing for family especially during the New Year, and complaints about the unappetizing food and poor-quality water here. The letter was full of a childish tone, almost overwhelming in its stickiness. Yi Mo couldn’t help but frown and said, “What is this?”

 

Shen Qingxuan chuckled and finally raised his face, still half-asleep. “I receive several of these letters every month. It seems he writes one by candlelight, sends it, writes another in a few days, and sends it again. Otherwise, given the long distance, receiving a letter once a month would be quite good.”

 

Yi Mo asked, “Have you replied?”

 

Shen Qingxuan shook his head. “I used to respond diligently, but recently I’ve become lazy. I thought his spoiled behavior was a minor issue, but now it seems it’s not so minor. Let him be neglected over there for now. I’ll reply next month.”

 

Just then, a maid announced that the old lady had arrived. Shen Qingxuan immediately closed his mouth, looking somewhat displeased, and said, “Please ask her in quickly. I don’t think she would be slow by nature.”

 

Yi Mo said nothing, watching Shen Qingxuan push his chair to open the door. Yi Mo stepped aside voluntarily to avoid being a nuisance.

 

Before long, Shen’s mother entered with a maid, holding a book and appearing very dignified.

 

Seeing his mother’s familiar and kind face, Shen Qingxuan felt a mix of emotions. He thought that perhaps official ladies were like this—elegant and gracious, handling matters with poise but lacking the warmth of a humble background. Though they were mother and son, their relationship remained polite and formal. Shen Qingxuan couldn’t even remember if his mother had ever held him as a child; instead, it was his wet nurse and second mother who often held and pampered him. In the end, the ones who were closest to him were the ones who had betrayed him. The world was indeed full of surprises.

 

Shen Qingxuan called out, “Mother,” and they both sat at the table. Shen’s mother looked around and asked, “Where is your guest?”

 

Shen Qingxuan thought it strange if she had seen him, and said, “He went out.”

 

Shen’s mother nodded and, after a brief pause, said, “I have made a vow to Buddha, and now it has been fulfilled. We, mother and son, should write out the Buddhist scriptures together to thank the Bodhisattva for their blessings. I’ve brought the scriptures; if you have time, please write a few copies for me.”

 

Shen Qingxuan understood that her vow was related to his recovery, although he knew it had nothing to do with the Buddha. He felt it was inappropriate to refuse and agreed, taking the scriptures and setting them aside. “I will write them, but after the New Year, there will be many matters to attend to, so I may not be able to write too many.”

 

Shen’s mother said, “No matter, just do your best.”

 

Shen Qingxuan agreed, poured tea, and handed it to her, then asked, “Is there anything else, Mother?”

 

After hesitating, Shen’s mother revealed the real purpose of her visit, which was as expected—arranged marriages. As the matriarch of the Shen family, having given birth to a son, she had fulfilled her duty for the family line. Now that her son was an adult and had not married due to health reasons, at twenty-eight, he had finally agreed to marry and take concubines. However, the concubine who was pregnant with a boy had miscarried. The engagement had been broken off, and now the family line was at risk of dying out. As the head of the Shen family, how could she not be anxious?

 

Shen Qingxuan had anticipated this outcome. Seeing his mother’s worried expression, he felt a pang of regret, wishing he had delayed the dissolution of his engagement by a few months. Now, barely days after breaking off the engagement, the topic of marriage was being raised again.

 

Shen Qingxuan sighed internally, glancing at the seemingly empty divan and feeling more frustrated. It was all because of this snake that turned his sincere feelings into a bargaining chip, transforming affection into charity, leading him to become disillusioned and consider breaking off relations and marrying. Realizing this, Shen Qingxuan mentally chastised himself, recognizing his youthful impulsiveness and lack of composure, which had caused unnecessary trouble.

 

But with things having come to this point, regret was futile. He needed to find a way forward.

 

After a long silence, Shen Qingxuan finally said, “Mother, although I can speak now, my health hasn’t improved. I still rely on nourishing soups and ginseng pills for energy. Even though Yi Ge promised to cure my legs, it is an old affliction, and the blocked channels and bones have made it incurable. Even if there are good women willing to marry me, I cannot afford to do so. If I were to pass away, it would leave them as widows, which is a grave injustice. You are compassionate, and loving your son is kind, but pitying a girl is also kind. To be kind to oneself, even if great, is still a small kindness; to be kind to others, even if small, is a great kindness. Mother, you have been compassionate all your life, but please do not let your son’s issues tarnish your virtue.”

 

Shen Qingxuan knew his words were harsh, but he felt no guilt. It is said that the bond between mother and child is strong, and he understood his mother well. She was a person of goodness, never doubting others’ intentions. Even when he showed clear disdain for his second mother, she never questioned it and continued to treat her like a beloved sister. She even held Shen Zhen, despite rarely indulging her own children. She interpreted his dislike as a result of misfortune and never asked why he felt that way about her and her son.

 

She had never asked him, not even once. Instead, she blamed him for taking out his misfortune on others and losing his composure.

 

This was the manner of an official lady—generous, kind, and meticulous, never allowing herself to be reproached, even by her own son.

 

Shen Qingxuan felt resentful.

 

How could it be that there was none? Still just a child, yet when trouble arose, not even his own mother had any sense of crisis, instead trusting those who harmed him. If it weren’t for the existence of that child he called his younger brother, he wouldn’t have been thrown into the ice cave. A lifetime wasted!

 

There was no hatred, just a heart full of grievances with no place to vent. At the age when he still needed protection, not a single close relative was there to lend him a hand. Even his own mother did not say a word to comfort him, “Don’t be afraid, mother is here.”

 

Left alone, he curled up on the bed, silently experiencing the feeling of being crippled, unable to even complain. He watched helplessly as his mother and his enemies chatted and laughed, humbly exchanging pleasantries and sitting together embroidering. He couldn’t say anything, couldn’t do anything, not even pull his mother away. In the end, he had to resign himself to fate.

 

Yes, this was his mother. A distinguished woman from a scholarly official family, proud and unwilling to let anyone speak ill of her. She wanted everyone to bow at her feet in complete admiration, calling her “madam” with utmost respect.

 

She even looked down on the most basic jealousy among women. Her husband respected her all his life.

 

Her son could only respect her too.

 

Watching his mother walk away, Shen Qingxuan gazed at her retreating figure until the upright and dignified silhouette disappeared from view. Then he slowly turned his head and, with a smile, spoke to the corner of the bed, “Brother Yi, let’s talk. We’ve known each other for almost a year, and I haven’t had a proper conversation with you yet.”

 

Yi Mo appeared and, looking at him, waved his hand, “Speak.”

 

Shen Qingxuan straightened his body, picked up the letter from Shen Zhen, read it for a while, and then put it down with a smile, “Let’s start with my younger brother.”

 

Shen Zhen.

 

Shen Qingxuan repeated the name, his thoughts retracing back to when Shen Zhen had just learned to walk, with a few baby teeth and drooling every day, like a chubby little duck, running towards him despite their mother’s objections. When the second mother forbade him, he would cry, his voice so loud that it silenced the birds and insects in the courtyard. That was real wailing. Not only did he cry, but he would also sit his tender little bottom in the dirt, rolling around. Covered in dirt, with a face full of grey, tears creating small grooves on his face, struggling to breathe.

 

Every time the second mother helplessly brought him over, Shen Zhen was always a little dirt ball.

 

Everyone knew that Shen Qingxuan’s temperament changed drastically after his misfortunes. No one paid attention to him. Initially, he ignored Shen Zhen, but later, unable to withstand the dirty little ball’s persistent clinging, he eventually paid attention. The two often stuck together, unable to separate, even sleeping together wrapped in the same blanket. 

 

A half-grown child, holding a soft little brother, covered with a blanket, sleeping sweetly. Truly, a brotherly affection.

 

But no one knew that Shen Zhen ate the “sugar pills” his brother gave him every day. The “sugar pills” were made by Shen Qingxuan from earthworms mixed with dirt from the courtyard, rolled into mud balls, and coated with sugar water, threatening him to eat them. Shen Zhen ate them, grimacing, afraid that his brother would ignore him, so he ate every day. After eating, he would have stomachaches, and would see the doctor from time to time. Eventually, the doctor prescribed strong medicine, and the child ended up with a few worms in his stomach. Such small troubles caused his previously chubby cheeks to quickly disappear. Yet he never dared to tell anyone because if he did, his brother would ignore him and might even hit him.

 

As he grew older, Shen Qingxuan knew he could remember things and stopped doing such things. Instead, he used gestures to encourage him to climb trees to get birds, always choosing trees with thin branches. Shen Zhen would climb up and fall down every time. After several falls, he became clever, deliberately climbing not too high to fall down intentionally, and falling less painfully. His brother could not tolerate him trying to outsmart him in front of him, so one day, he chose a tall tree growing over the courtyard wall and told him to climb up to get the bird’s nest.

 

Shen Zhen climbed up to the highest point and was afraid to come down.

 

Shen Qingxuan opened his arms and mouthed, “Jump, I’ll catch you.” Although they were far apart and Shen Zhen couldn’t see his lips, he understood the meaning.

 

At that time, Shen Zhen was six years old, staring at him with a tiger-like face, and then actually jumped.

 

How could Shen Qingxuan catch him? He did not move at all, coldly watching him fall.

 

Shen Zhen was caught by tree branches halfway down, not breaking any arms or legs but dislocating his shoulder. He hung on the tree, crying for who knows how long before someone came to rescue him. He was carried by the servants to find a doctor, and when he looked around, he found that his brother, who had been sitting under the tree, was no longer there.

 

At that time, Shen Zhen was still naive but vaguely understood that his brother disliked him, hated him, and wanted to harm him.

 

Yet he still liked his brother and continued to follow him, leaning on his legs, looking at his brother, who had never stood up and smiled gently at him.

 

Every time he was injured more severely, his brother’s smile would be even brighter. His eyes would also become brighter, no longer so gloomy.

 

So Shen Zhen continued to bear the reputation of being mischievous, repeatedly getting hurt.

 

Until one time, Shen Qingxuan gave him a fire stick and told him to start a fire in the woodshed, saying he could roast sweet potatoes himself. When he set the fire and prepared to go out, he discovered that the door of the woodshed was locked. He couldn’t open it and was trapped inside, with the fire growing larger. When the flames licked his face, eight-year-old Shen Zhen saw his brother’s face through the burning window. Still smiling, his brother looked at him with a gentle smile.

 

Shen Zhen cried out, “Brother!”

 

“Brother!”

 

“Brother, brother, brother, brother!!”

 

He said nothing but only called out for his brother.

 

Just like Shen Qingxuan, who fell into the ice cave, shouting for his wet nurse.

 

But unlike him, who screamed his throat raw with no one to save him, Shen Zhen had someone.

 

His brother eventually opened the woodshed door, dragged the terrified child out, extinguished the flames on him, and held him as they both climbed to the side, hugging each other, watching the woodshed turn to ashes.

 

Afterward, no one knew why the fire started, and no one knew how the fifteen-year-old Shen Qingxuan managed to drag Shen Zhen out of the fire. Shen Qingxuan couldn’t speak, and Shen Zhen would shiver and refuse to talk about the fire.

 

Until one night, Shen Qingxuan woke up in a daze and saw a small figure standing by his bed in the darkness. The figure was shivering in the cold, barefoot on the floor, timidly looking at the elder brother on the bed.

 

Shen Zhen asked, “Brother, do you no longer dislike me?”

 

Shen Qingxuan lit a candle, looked at him, and after an unknown period, finally nodded.

 

The past had faded away.

 

Shen Qingxuan drank a cup of tea, poured another, and after drinking it in silence, turned to Yi Mo with a smile, “It’s strange. I did so many bad things to him, but later treated him well, and yet I don’t feel any guilt. I only think that wanting to kill him back then was justified, and treating him well afterward was also deserved. I’ve never felt any remorse. Isn’t that strange?”

 

Yi Mo shook his head, “Not strange.”

 

Shen Qingxuan looked at him. Yi Mo paused for a moment and said, “He pities you.”

 

Shen Qingxuan thought about it and agreed with a murmur, adding, “If I had been in good health, I would have been much better than him in terms of studies and future prospects. Perhaps by now, he would dislike me.”

 

Yi Mo said, “You have thought it through.” He then told a small story about two brothers from a family that, while not wealthy or noble, was still well-off. The younger brother, two years younger and born to a concubine, was often compared unfavorably to the elder brother by the family elders. They often said the younger was foolish and the elder outstanding. Over time, the younger brother harbored resentment, his entire childhood filled with gloom and no joy, as all the good things went to the elder, while he only got the leftovers. After their father died, the brothers separated, never interacting again. The elder brother entered public service and became wealthy and influential, while the younger led a hard life as a traveling merchant.

 

Twenty years later, the elder brother fell from grace, losing his position and being sent back to his hometown. The younger brother, after years of hard work, had built his own business and accumulated assets. With nowhere else to go, the elder brother sought refuge with the younger.

 

After decades, when they met again, the younger brother was well-dressed and rosy-cheeked, while the elder brother was ragged, emaciated, and suffering from a serious illness.

 

Yi Mo paused and asked Shen Qingxuan, “What do you think will happen between the brothers?”

 

Shen Qingxuan thought for a moment and said with a smile, “Naturally, the younger brother would accept the elder, providing him with good food and clothing, treating his illness, and truly restoring their brotherly bond.”

 

Yi Mo nodded, “Correct.”

 

“If I were the younger brother, I would do the same,” Shen Qingxuan said. “What could be more satisfying than seeing someone once unreachable groveling at your feet, accepting your charity?”

 

Yi Mo looked at him, pondering, and then said, “It’s not like that.”

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“You’re missing a point,” Yi Mo said slowly. “Although there was a rift, they are still blood brothers, connected by their bloodline. Therefore, the younger brother’s acceptance and kindness to the elder are not entirely out of revenge. It’s because, when the younger brother saw the elder’s fallen state, he first thought of himself. He had once been humble and discriminated against, knowing the hardship. After many years, when they met again, it was not a relationship of giving and receiving. Instead, they were finally equal, free from external influences, and could restore their brotherly bond.”

 

Yi Mo continued, “Shen Qingxuan, you harmed Shen Zhen because you saw yourself as the victim, while Shen Zhen was the beneficiary of the whole affair. You didn’t spare him, which was natural and did not require guilt. Later, when you saved him and cared for him, it was because you made him experience the suffering you endured. You two have balanced the scales, so there’s no need for guilt.”

 

Yi Mo asked, “Am I right?”

 

Shen Qingxuan was silent.

 

After an unknown time, he finally nodded and sighed with a smile, “Yes.” He paused slightly and added, “Actually, Shen Zhen never asked me why I hated him before. Maybe he vaguely guessed something but was just too scared to say… this is just like me.”

 

Shen Qingxuan thought, after all, they were brothers. Even if he wasn’t clear, he knew that if this issue were brought up, the consequences could be unpredictable.

 

They couldn’t speak, couldn’t ask. Because the Shen family was where they grew up, despite its flaws. Those flaws could never outweigh the things they cherished.

 

No one had the heart to truly destroy their home.

 

So those flaws had to be hidden, suppressed, buried deep. Time would wear on, and eventually, it would fester into a rotten thorn in the flesh. Perhaps someday, an opportunity might arise to pull out that rotten thorn, turn it to dust, and allow the wound to heal.

 

Shen Qingxuan moved his chair closer, took Yi Mo’s hand, and said nothing, just holding it quietly.

 

Their fingers intertwined, silent and still.

 

As if holding hands like this, they could walk to the end of time.

 

Outside the window, the sunlight was everywhere, shining on the unmelted snow, dazzlingly bright.

 

Shen Qingxuan said, “How fortunate.”

 

And then fell silent.

 

He did not finish the sentence, but Yi Mo understood.

 

The unspoken words were—how fortunate to have met you.

 

Perhaps because of the beautiful sunlight, Yi Mo let him hold his hand and stand side by side, watching the view outside, never pulling away.