The silence left behind by the previous conversation lingered for a while.
The lantern burned quietly.
Tea sat forgotten upon the table.
Outside, the bamboo grove whispered beneath the night wind.
Inside, no one seemed eager to break the stillness.
Lu Wenyuan sat with his gaze lowered.
The words Wenyuan-ge still echoed faintly in his mind.
After all these years.
After believing Shen Qiyao dead.
After searching through provinces and cities.
That one title had erased years in a single breath.
Across from him, Shen Qiyao remained calm.
As though nothing unusual had happened.
As though he had not just shattered an entire evening of formality.
The longer the silence stretched, the stranger it became.
Finally, Shen Qiyao lowered his cup.
"You can stay here tonight."
The words were simple.
Yet Lu Wenyuan immediately straightened.
"Young Master Zi—"
Shen Qiyao looked at him.
Only looked.
Nothing more.
Lu Wenyuan stopped.
The room fell silent.
Even He Qing looked between them.
After several moments, Lu Wenyuan coughed lightly.
"...Ziyuan."
Another look.
Lu Wenyuan sighed.
"...Fine."
His shoulders relaxed slightly.
"A-Yuan."
The title sounded unfamiliar inside the shrine.
He Qing blinked.
A-Yuan?
For a moment, he genuinely wondered whether he had heard correctly.
The man who had spent the entire day saying Young Master Ziyuan with the seriousness of a court official was suddenly calling him A-Yuan?
What exactly was their relationship?
Shen Qiyao appeared satisfied.
"I'll prepare dinner."
Immediately Lu Wenyuan stood.
"I'll assist."
"No."
"I can help."
"No."
"A-Yuan—"
"No."
The answer arrived so quickly that even He Qing almost laughed.
Lu Wenyuan rubbed his forehead.
The movement carried the exhaustion of someone who had repeated this conversation many times before.
"A-Yuan."
"No."
"I have traveled for seven days."
"Then rest."
"I am perfectly capable of helping."
"No."
Lu Wenyuan stared at him.
Shen Qiyao stared back.
Neither moved.
Eventually Lu Wenyuan sighed dramatically.
"You're still impossible."
For the first time that evening, something resembling amusement flickered through Shen Qiyao's eyes.
Very briefly.
Almost invisible.
He Qing caught it anyway.
And suddenly—
The atmosphere felt different.
Not lighter.
Not entirely.
But warmer.
The court official from before seemed to have vanished.
In his place sat someone who clearly knew Shen Qiyao far too well.
Lu Wenyuan settled back down.
"Do you still remember when you tried to cook by yourself at twelve?"
A pause.
"I succeeded."
"You nearly burned down the east kitchen."
"I succeeded."
"The cooks cried."
"I succeeded."
He Qing pressed a hand against his mouth.
Lu Wenyuan pointed immediately.
"See?"
"See what?"
"Even your friend knows I'm telling the truth."
"I don't know anything."
"You laughed."
"I absolutely did not."
"You did."
"I didn't."
The exchange happened so naturally that He Qing found himself staring.
This wasn't the Shen Qiyao he knew.
Or perhaps—
It was.
Just another side of him.
A side that had existed long before the mountain shrine.
Long before their meeting.
Long before shared meals and summer evenings.
The realization settled strangely inside his chest.
For a moment, Shen Qiyao simply listened to Lu Wenyuan speak.
Then suddenly—
His gaze shifted.
Toward He Qing.
And stopped.
A pause followed.
Long enough that both men noticed.
"...What?"
He Qing narrowed his eyes.
Shen Qiyao blinked once.
Then twice.
As though realizing something important.
A rare expression appeared across his face.
Almost guilt.
"...I forgot."
He Qing stared.
"...You forgot what?"
Shen Qiyao looked at him.
Then at Lu Wenyuan.
Then back at him.
The silence became suspicious.
Very suspicious.
He Qing immediately crossed his arms.
"Mr. Taller Shen."
Another pause.
"You forgot me."
"No."
"You forgot me."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did."
Lu Wenyuan quietly lowered his head to hide a smile.
Shen Qiyao looked away.
Which was basically an admission of guilt.
He Qing gasped dramatically.
"You really forgot me."
The accusation echoed through the shrine.
Shen Qiyao rubbed his temple.
A familiar sign of surrender.
Finally he said,
"This is He Qing."
The room fell silent.
He Qing blinked.
That was it?
Just This is He Qing?
Lu Wenyuan's smile deepened slightly.
He rose smoothly and offered a respectful bow.
"Lu Wenyuan."
His voice carried its usual refinement.
He Qing returned the greeting.
"He Qing."
For a brief moment, silence settled between them.
Then Lu Wenyuan glanced toward Shen Qiyao.
Then toward He Qing.
Then back toward Shen Qiyao.
A strange expression crossed his face.
Almost disbelief.
He hesitated before speaking.
"...Mr. Taller Shen?"
The title sounded extraordinarily awkward coming from him.
He Qing blinked.
"What?"
Lu Wenyuan looked genuinely puzzled.
"I thought I heard correctly earlier."
His gaze shifted toward Shen Qiyao.
Then back toward He Qing.
"You always call him that?"
"Of course."
He Qing looked equally confused.
"What else would I call him?"
The room became very quiet.
Lu Wenyuan stared.
For a long moment, he simply stared.
Then suddenly laughed.
Not loudly.
Not mockingly.
Just completely unable to help himself.
He covered his mouth briefly.
"A-Yuan."
The title slipped out naturally.
"I don't believe this."
Shen Qiyao lowered his eyes toward his tea.
Clearly having no intention of rescuing either side.
Lu Wenyuan shook his head.
"When we were younger, even the tutors worried about whether people addressed him properly."
He Qing blinked.
The confusion only deepened.
"Why?"
"..."
"..."
Lu Wenyuan looked toward Shen Qiyao.
Shen Qiyao looked away.
Which somehow answered nothing.
And everything.
For the first time, Lu Wenyuan began understanding something.
This young man truly did not know.
He did not know who Shen Qiyao had once been.
He did not know the status attached to the name Shen Ziyuan.
He did not know the weight of the title "Young Master."
And somehow—
That ignorance had created a kind of freedom.
One nobody in the Shen Residence had ever possessed around him.
Lu Wenyuan found himself smiling unexpectedly.
Perhaps that was why the shrine felt different.
Here, Shen Qiyao was not a successor.
Not a young master.
Not a symbol of the clan.
Simply—
Mr. Taller Shen.
The realization was strangely comforting.
Shen Qiyao had already turned toward the kitchen.
He Qing stretched lazily.
"Then I'll buy wine."
The footsteps stopped.
A dangerous silence appeared.
He Qing immediately straightened.
"One jar."
"No."
"Half a jar."
"No."
"A small jar."
"No."
"A very small jar."
"No."
He Qing pointed accusingly.
"You're abusing authority."
Shen Qiyao continued walking.
"I have no authority."
"You absolutely do."
"No."
"Then why am I not allowed wine?"
No answer came.
He Qing looked deeply betrayed.
Lu Wenyuan watched the exchange with growing disbelief.
For several moments he simply sat there.
Observing.
The future head of the Shen Clan.
The person who once made entire halls of scholars sit straighter.
Arguing about wine.
In a mountain shrine.
With someone calling him Mr. Taller Shen.
The absurdity finally overwhelmed him.
A laugh escaped.
Genuine.
Warm.
The first truly relaxed laugh since arriving.
Both men looked toward him.
Lu Wenyuan shook his head.
"I suddenly understand why the shrine feels so different."
Neither responded.
Which only encouraged him.
"In the Shen Residence, nobody would dare argue with A-Yuan over wine."
He Qing blinked.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Not even once?"
"Not if they valued their tutors' peace of mind."
The confusion on He Qing's face deepened.
He looked toward Shen Qiyao.
Then back toward Lu Wenyuan.
Then back toward Shen Qiyao again.
The image simply refused to fit.
Mr. Taller Shen?
Terrifying?
Impossible.
Shen Qiyao looked away.
Which Lu Wenyuan immediately interpreted as guilt.
"A-Yuan."
"No."
"You frightened people."
"No."
"You absolutely frightened people."
"No."
"You made one tutor cry."
The shrine fell silent.
He Qing slowly turned.
"What?"
Lu Wenyuan nodded solemnly.
"He spent three months preparing a lecture."
"What happened?"
"You asked him."
"What happened?"
Shen Qiyao closed his eyes briefly.
The reaction alone was suspicious.
Lu Wenyuan looked delighted.
"A-Yuan pointed out seventeen mistakes before the first page was finished."
He Qing stared.
Then laughed.
Actually laughed.
Loudly.
The sound echoed through the shrine.
For a brief moment, Lu Wenyuan forgot where he was.
Forgot why he had come.
Forgot the years between then and now.
Because the sight before him felt strangely familiar.
A younger Shen Qiyao would never have laughed.
But he would have sat there exactly the same way while someone else laughed for him.
The realization warmed and hurt at the same time.
Eventually He Qing stood.
"Fine."
He pointed dramatically.
"If I cannot buy wine, then I shall at least investigate wine."
"No."
"I wasn't asking."
"No."
"I was informing you."
"No."
Lu Wenyuan covered his face.
The exchange had become completely ridiculous.
Finally he cleared his throat.
"If you don't mind..."
Both men looked toward him.
A faint smile appeared.
"May I join this investigation?"
He Qing's eyes lit up immediately.
"You drink?"
"A little."
The answer sounded suspiciously modest.
Very suspiciously.
He Qing narrowed his eyes.
"How little?"
Lu Wenyuan considered.
"A reasonable amount."
"That means a dangerous amount."
"A fair observation."
For the first time all evening, the corners of Shen Qiyao's mouth lifted.
Small.
Brief.
But undeniably there.
Lu Wenyuan caught it.
So did He Qing.
Neither said anything.
Because some moments felt too fragile to touch.
Outside, the bamboo grove whispered beneath the night sky.
The lantern light flickered softly across the floor.
And for a little while, before the past returned to demand its answers, the shrine felt almost like itself again.