Chapter 17 Small-leaved Bodhi Tree

Chapter 17 The Small-Leaved Bodhi

The Bodhi tree was planted by the two of them when they were twelve. At that time, Tan Youming had been confined to the family temple for a night of reflection by Guan Kezhi, for taking Shen Zongnian out without permission.

The family temple, nestled against the mountain, was assailed by rain and occasional thunder that night. Even the usually bold Tan Youming couldn't help but feel a tremor of fear, mumbling nervously to Mazu.

Suddenly, the three-meter-tall redwood door creaked open slowly. No one was there. Tan Youming was so terrified he lost his voice.

The mountain breeze couldn't disperse the night fog, and a figure appeared behind the carved floral window. Tan Youming's eyes widened as he tumbled onto the prayer cushion.

The shadow drew closer.

"What are you doing?"

Shen Zongnian's somber face became clear in the candlelight. Just as Tan Youming was about to unleash a string of curses, his gaze fell upon the food box in Shen Zongnian's hand, and his throat went dry.

Hmm… he hadn't eaten dinner yet.

"I was scared to death. It's too terrifying here at night."

Shen Zongnian, who feared neither ghosts nor gods and believed in no deities, leaned against the wall, watching him devour the food. "What's there to be afraid of?" he asked.

Tan Youming didn't want to admit he was afraid of ghosts, so he pretended not to hear. He was hungry and tired, and only halfway through the meal did he remember he was supposed to be reflecting. He glanced at Mazu, then at Shen Zongnian, hesitantly asking, "Will Mazu be angry with me?"

Even at a young age, Shen Zongnian was quite ruthless: "Then stop eating."

"I'll keep eating," Tan Youming quickly found a solution that satisfied both his hunger and his conscience. "I'll apologize to Mazu after I finish."

...

After finishing, Tan Youming returned to the soft cushion, bowed, and knelt. He said to Shen Zongnian, somewhat hesitantly, "You should bow your head too. Since you secretly brought me food, it's better to pay respects to feel at ease."

He hoped the compassionate and generous Mazu wouldn't blame them, these two partners in crime, and even more, he hoped she would bless Shen Zongnian so that the Shen family would never find him again, and he would live safely and peacefully from now on.

Shen Zongnian packed up the leftover food, unmoved, and said softly, "No need. I don't believe in these things." If gods and Buddhas truly existed, where were they when he called for help with no answer?

He didn't believe in gods or Buddhas; he only believed in himself.

The gods hadn't saved him; it was the Tan family, and Tan Youming, who had.

Hearing his blasphemous words, Tan Youming felt his vision swim. He quickly pulled Shen Zongnian down to kneel with a thud: "Ah, spit, spit, bad luck be gone! Mazu, don't take him seriously. He's talking nonsense. He's just a kid who doesn't know any better. Please don't blame him."

"If anyone is to blame, blame me. I'm Tan Youming. Put it all on my head. Please don't listen to him. He... he isn't quite right in the head. Mazu, you're magnanimous. Don't bother with a fool."

"..."

Tan Youming was truly afraid Mazu would blame Shen Zongnian. Even after being let out the next day, he remained worried. Not daring to ask Guan Kezhi, he secretly told Tan Zhongshan what had happened and asked his father what to do.

Tan Zhongshan didn't think it was a big deal—children's words carry no harm, and it was an unintentional mistake. But worried his son might worry too much, he thought for a moment and said, "It's fine. You two plant a tree together near the temple. Planting a tree is a good deed; each tree represents enlightenment."

"Plant it sincerely, apologize properly, and Mazu will understand you're good kids."

Tan Youming believed it wholeheartedly and dragged an unimpressed Shen Zongnian to find the house manager.

And so, the small-leaved Bodhi tree was planted by the family temple. Its rings grew, cause and effect intertwined, greening inch by inch each year, growing up alongside Tan Youming and Shen Zongnian until now.

After offering incense, they returned to Wanjing Hall. The housekeeper in the kitchen was shaping the rice cakes into little nian beast figures. Guan Kezhi was nearby, seemingly helping but actually making mischief, chatting about everything from Hong Kong scandals to Victoria Harbour secrets.

Tan Youming couldn't stand it: "Don't give Auntie wrong ideas. Those are all rumors. Read less of 'Huadu Evening News.'"

"You would know," Guan Kezhi had gotten a new hairstyle for the New Year—long, straight black hair. Unlike other high-society ladies who preferred cheongsams or formal dresses, she wore jeans and a white shirt with accordion pleats, looking exceptionally young.

Tan Youming picked up a snack and took a bite: "I went to his daughter's engagement banquet."

Recalling the man's past behavior, Guan Kezhi's smile faded slightly, offering a sharp critique: "Oh, selling off his wife and now his daughter."

Tan Youming was truly impressed by her.

Guan Kezhi was the daughter of a high-ranking official, quick-witted since her youth. Back then, she was in the news as often as Tan Youming is now, with countless suitors.

Those who liked her called her a chivalrous woman; those who disliked her called her a troublemaker. Tan Youming's clear sense of justice and his blend of righteousness and mischief were entirely inherited—Guan Kezhi deserved much of the credit.

The housekeeper, a long-time staff member in the Tan family, listened to the mother and son banter back and forth like a comedy act, laughing until she cried.

Shen Zongnian made lemon tea and went to help Tan Zhongshan with the wine.

Tan Zhongshan said Guan Kezhi had ordered them a batch of new clothes for the New Year: "They're washed and hanging in the closet. Try them on when you have time. If they don't fit, have someone alter them."

"I saw them. Thank you, Auntie Guan."

"No need for thanks," Tan Zhongshan said, selecting wine while asking about business matters. "The stock exchange back then was to help you return to Huantu's board quickly. If there are strategic changes now, Pinghai will, of course, accept adjustments."

Shen Zongnian ran his fingers over the wine bottle.

Tan Zhongshan told him: "This is for you and Youming to decide. Just—"

"Don't push yourself too hard. Youming says you work overtime almost every day. Take care of him, but also mind your own health."

Tan Zhongshan was tall and handsome, with a commanding presence when not smiling, but when he smiled, one could see the easygoing charm of his youth.

"Mm, Uncle Tan, I understand," Shen Zongnian began preparing the wine.

"If Youming distracts you too much when you're busy, don't indulge him."

Shen Zongnian said, "He doesn't."

Tan Zhongshan patted his shoulder, realizing the boy had already grown taller than him. Pointing at the Riesling in Shen Zongnian's hand, he smiled: "Let me handle this bottle."

Guan Kezhi was very picky about wine—too astringent wouldn't do, aerated too long wouldn't do either. It had to be just right, or she would refuse to drink it.

Shen Zongnian handed him the wine.

Tan Zhongshan expertly poured it into a swan-shaped decanter: "Which day are you planning to go back this year?" Shen Zongnian usually didn't return to the Shen family, but he had to visit the grave of Grandfather Shen during the New Year.

"Not decided yet." It depended on when Tan Youming was free.

Tan Zhongshan thought for a moment, concerned: "Otherwise... let Youming go with you?" Although the remaining extended family of the Shen family were not worth worrying about, he worried someone might say something unpleasant during the New Year and hurt the child's feelings.

Shen Zongnian said, "It's fine, Uncle Tan. I can handle it alone."

Tan Zhongshan seemed to suddenly recall his son's famous incident of standing up to the Shen uncles at fifteen and felt somewhat awkward: "Alright. If anything comes up, just tell us. Whatever Youming does at home, you do the same."

Tan Zhongshan's hand on Shen Zongnian's shoulder was warm and felt reassuring. Shen Zongnian gripped his wine glass tighter: "I know, Uncle Tan."

The New Year's Eve dinner was lively. Old Mr. Tan had two sons and a daughter. Tan Zhongshan was the eldest. Tan Youming's uncle was on a business trip to the mainland with a delegation and would land in Haishi the day after tomorrow. He didn't let those distant relatives come to suck up to him—only the closest few shared a simple reunion dinner.

But with Guan Kezhi and Tan Youming around, it was hard for things to be dull.

Elder Tan and Gao Shuhong were both listening with great interest; only Tan Zhongshan couldn't get a word in edgewise.

Shen Zongnian wasn't much of a talker at home either, but his hands were never idle—he served Guan Kezhi the black chicken wings, made sure Tan Zhongshan's beef was cooked a little longer since he preferred it more well-done, and let the soup cool before serving it to the elderly to avoid anything too hot or tough.

Among the food he scooped for Tan Youming were pieces of carrot. Tan Youming pretended not to notice and casually pushed them aside while chatting, planning to sneak them away when changing the bone plate later.

Guan Kezhi, sharp-eyed, pointed at the plate and casually snitched: "Nian, he pushed the carrots out."

Tan Youming: "?"

Shen Zongnian, who was standing by adding ingredients to the hot pot, turned to look at Tan Youming.

Meeting his gaze, Tan Youming got nervous and struggled to explain: "N-No, I was just waiting for it to cool down before eating."

Guan Kezhi leaned against Tan Zhongshan's shoulder, bursting out laughing, while Gao Shuhong also chuckled.

Tan Zhongshan: "..." But he never stepped in when his eldest son disciplined the younger one.

When Shen Zongnian went to the kitchen to grab more dishes, Tan Youming frowned and said, "Oh my god, Ms. Guan, how could you be so mean?"

Guan Kezhi tsk-ed and teased: "Oh my god, Tan Youming, how could you be so timid?"

After the New Year's Eve dinner, while Tan Zhongshan and Shen Zongnian went to the tea room to discuss business, Tan Youming and Guan Kezhi went to the garden together to smoke, chat, and walk it off.

The two had years of mother-son banter that had evolved into a deep friendship, and both had an offbeat sense of humor, able to talk about anything.

Guan Kezhi smoked 1824, a light slim cigarette, held between her jade-ring-adorned fingers. Tan Youming took out a lighter and lit it for her.

When Tan Zhongshan and Shen Zongnian were about to come out of the tea room, the two put out their cigarettes, aired out the smell for a while, and returned to the living room.

Tan Zhongshan frowned and asked, "Who was smoking?"

Shen Zongnian looked at Tan Youming, and surprisingly, Guan Kezhi also slowly turned her gaze to Tan Youming.

Tan Youming was incredulous: "??"

He looked pleadingly at Shen Zongnian, but Shen Zongnian threw him under the bus, heading back to the Octagon alone.

After playing a few rounds of mahjong with the elderly, Tan Youming ducked into Shen Zongnian's room.

Shen Zongnian was still wrapping up the last bit of work—a multinational project where the other party didn't celebrate the Spring Festival.

Tan Youming sat directly on the bed, went through Shen Zongnian's phone to check it, and then started playing games.

After a while, when Shen Zongnian paused, Tan Youming looked up with a smirk: "President Shen, should I send you back to Huantu now?"

Shen Zongnian ignored his sarcasm, rubbed his temples tiredly, and asked, "What do you want?"

Tan Youming looked at him strangely, as if to say, "Do I need a reason to be here?"

He shoved Shen Zongnian's blanket aside, got out of bed, and walked to the big picture window. Shen Zongnian stared at the pillow Tan Youming had hugged, lost in thought.

Unaware, Tan Youming stood by the window for a moment before softly saying, "Shen Zongnian."

"It feels like the New Year is really coming."

Shen Zongnian followed his gaze and gave a low hum.

Fireworks had already risen over the distant mountains, their booming sounds growing closer.

In truth, Shen Zongnian never liked fireworks, even though Victoria Harbour had them every day, year after year.

As a child, after being kidnapped by his birth parents, Shen Zongnian was blindfolded and taken to a deep mountain valley. The loud explosion before his rescue often echoed in his dreams, leaving him drenched in cold sweat.

Shen Zongnian remembered his parents as a handsome young couple. As a child, he often hoped the beautiful, sweet woman and the elegant, gentle man would come back to see him.

One day, his parents said they were taking him to the park. Little Shen Zongnian kept a straight face but was overjoyed inside, calmly putting on his new black leather shoes.

But halfway through the car ride, he already knew—this wasn't the way to the park. A child living on the edge had long become acutely sensitive to danger, to people's hearts, to human nature.

The year Shen Zongnian came to the Tan family was the coldest the tropical island had seen in nearly a decade.

A stray dog, half-dead—a puppy barely hanging on. The first face he saw upon opening his eyes was Tan Youming's.

"You're awake," soft little hands wrapped around his, saying brightly, "Don't be afraid. I'm Tan Youming, and this is my home."

Shen Zongnian tried to tug his hand back but couldn't break free.

Dazed and out of it, his hand was held all day.

During his first Spring Festival with the Tan family, Tan Youming was the first and only person who noticed Shen Zongnian was afraid of firecrackers. Though he thought to himself about how such a tough guy could be so jumpy, he still kindly covered Shen Zongnian's ears.

Tan Youming's hands were small but soft and warm, keeping him safe from the winter winds and snow of that year and many years to come.