Shen Yun sensed Su Xiaoqi's inner turmoil, mistaking it for fear of the sharp-tongued Madam Qian. He reached out and clasped her hand.
Su Xiaoqi was mentally retracing Shen Yun's actions during this period in the novel.
Startled by Shen Yun's sudden grasp, her hands instinctively clenched into fists. Staring at the side of Shen Yun's face, she didn't know what to say.
"Don't be afraid, your great-aunt just has a sharp tongue," Shen Yun said, though his thoughts differed.
He knew just how formidable Madam Qian was, evidenced by their second cousin Zhao Xiaolan, who had run away from home and had yet to return.
And Zhao Xiaozhu, who was nearly forced to death by her mother, not to mention Zhao Liushun, who had been so verbally abused that he considered taking his own life…
Madam Qian was a venomous and cruel person.
However, this did not prevent her from recognizing the current reality.
Their nephew, Shen Yun, was no longer the impoverished scholar who used to endure her scoldings and humiliation.
Thus, upon spotting Shen Yun and Su Xiaoqi's arrival, her sharp eyes immediately caught sight of them, and the harsh words on her lips ceased.
Unsure how she managed it, she quickly greeted them with a smile.
"Oh my, Young Master Yun has brought his wife! Come, come inside and sit."
As Madam Qian spoke, she led them into the main hall to sit. She even used her sleeve to ostensibly wipe the peach wood chairs in the room.
She then repeatedly called for her youngest daughter, Zhao Xiaoju, who remained by her side, to make them tea.
Su Xiaoqi's lips twitched slightly as she observed Madam Qian, whose change of expression was as rapid as a Sichuan Opera face-changing performance.
Partly due to surprise at her sudden shift, and partly due to the transience of life that Madam Qian's unexpected gentleness towards them evoked.
Considering their past interactions with Madam Qian, she had never imagined that she possessed such a side.
It was only when the warm tea was placed in her hands, warming her hands chilled by the winter wind, that she slightly regained her composure.
At this moment, Madam Qian spoke again, inquiring if Su Xiaoqi was collecting potatoes and corn.
If so, she offered to have their great-uncle help them with the collection.
"Although Zhao Huazi is from our village, he's distantly related to us, beyond the fifth degree of kinship.
How can he be as caring as your own maternal uncle, isn't that right, dear?" Madam Qian said, nudging Zhao Dashan.
Zhao Dashan sat beside her, his head bowed, remaining silent.
He didn't want to leverage his status as Shen Yun's maternal uncle to engage in the profitable business Madam Qian mentioned.
But he was a magnanimous man and never liked to argue with his wife over trivial matters.
Moreover, she was thinking of their only son.
She wanted him to earn more money to save for a courtyard in the city for Fugui.
People said that to marry a good wife now, one needed a courtyard in the city.
Zhao Dashan deeply cherished his only beloved son.
Therefore, he took in all of Madam Qian's words today.
He looked expectantly at Shen Yun.
Shen Yun, however, knew that Su Xiaoqi had no intention of collecting potatoes and corn.
Not only that, they had just disrupted the business of others collecting these two items at the village entrance plaza.
So, Shen Yun, not wanting to put Su Xiaoqi in a difficult position, calmly answered Madam Qian's question, "Xiao Qi has no plans to collect them."
"What? Young Master Yun, you are now a successful scholar, you can't deceive us common folk." Madam Qian was full of disbelief.
She had heard that Su Bancheng's household had even sent a shopkeeper to collect them.
She didn't believe Su Xiaoqi wouldn't collect them.
Didn't she always have a good business acumen?
With this thought, Madam Qian developed a considerable amount of dissatisfaction towards the young couple.
She had originally told herself to control her emotions, as the current Shen Yun was not what he used to be.
But the more she thought about it, the more indignant and unhappy she became, and she blurted out her accusations:
"When other families prosper, they remember to help their maternal relatives. Only you two never think of us.
You've completely forgotten how our Zhao family helped your Shen family back then.
If it weren't for us, your aunt would have lost her life, let alone raising you two children."
As Madam Qian's rant reached its peak, she spat out a thick phlegm, "Hmph!
You haven't even repaid the kindness of saving a life, and now you're making excuses when asked to help your maternal uncle. You truly are heartless, just like your uncaring father. What's the use of coming from the capital and being wealthy?"
Madam Qian's tirade grew more impassioned, and she inadvertently said too much, immediately drawing a roar from Zhao Dashan:
"Qian Shi, shut up…"
Madam Qian also finally realized that she had indeed gone too far this time.
She lowered her head, her eyes darting between her own shoes and those of Shen Yun and Su Xiaoqi.
Seeing that they were all wearing thick-soled, cotton-padded shoes, while she, unwilling to spend money, was still wearing thin cloth shoes from autumn, her big toe began to itch. It was likely frostbite was setting in.
Her anger flared up again.
She turned and glared at her husband, her eyes conveying a clear message: if you don't want me to speak, I will speak even more.
"Qian Shi, that's enough. Go inside." Zhao Dashan's face, usually a dark reddish hue, showed a rare hint of anger.
It was evident that he was deeply displeased with Madam Qian's words.
Su Xiaoqi collected herself. She hadn't actually gained much new information from Madam Qian's words.
This was partly due to her not reading the novel carefully.
She didn't know the background of Shen Yun's father.
Therefore, she couldn't glean more information.
But Shen Yun seemed to know something. When he heard Madam Qian mention his father, the calm mask he usually wore momentarily cracked.
However, under Su Xiaoqi's gaze, it gradually healed.
He said nothing.
Zhao Dashan also remained silent. He was slow with words, his hands tucked into his sleeves for warmth, mumbling, unsure of what to say, only repeating:
"Young Master Yun, don't listen to your great-aunt. She's just a blunt instrument, she doesn't know how to speak, she doesn't know how to speak…"
Shen Yun stared past Zhao Dashan, his gaze deep and distant.
Su Xiaoqi blinked. Shen Yun's past held a story.
Her mind whirred, desperately searching her memory for descriptions from the novel.
But she couldn't find anything.
She sighed, finding the current atmosphere heavy and chilling; she disliked it.
She gently tugged on Shen Yun's sleeve and whispered, "Husband, we came to deliver the holiday gifts."
A smile graced Shen Yun's handsome face. He donned his calm and steady mask once more, picked up the basket by the door, took out the contents, and placed them on the eight-immortals table, saying softly,
"Great Uncle, Winter Solstice is approaching. This is a small token of our family's regard."
Zhao Dashan watched as he took several gifts from the basket.
There were delicacies and cakes bought from Chen Jin Ji, which were exorbitantly expensive.
There was fabric, candy, and five catties of pork.
This was far more than a small token; this basket was worth at least a string of coins.
Zhao Dashan felt touched. He had indeed taken Madam Qian's earlier words to heart.
He felt that it was somewhat unfair for the Shen family to seek out Zhao Huazi, who was distantly related, for the collection of bitter buckwheat, yet not approach their family.
He wondered if the Shen family, now prosperous, looked down upon them as poor relatives, especially since Shen Yun's paternal relatives had done such things in the past.
But he was a man, after all, and inherently more magnanimous.
Seeing the substantial holiday gifts the Shen couple had brought them, and their respectful demeanor,
He felt he had likely overthought things.