Chapter 24 Perfect Harmony

Chapter 24: Blossoms and Full Moon

After dinner, Shen Zongnian went to fix the vintage sewing machine, imported from Italy, for the old lady. She had mentioned in the group chat a few days earlier that it was broken, so Shen Zongnian brought his tools home today.

Shen Zongnian had been no stranger to "unexpected situations" since childhood and had acquired numerous practical skills. During his time in exile, when he was chased into the deep mountains and wild forests, he even repaired his own car; a sewing machine was nothing to him.

He bent down to tighten the screws, pulling a wrench from his pocket. Since he was home today, he wasn’t wearing formal attire—just black trousers and a windbreaker. His movements were as deft as a male engineering student disassembling a model.

"Nian," Gao Shuhong sat nearby watching him work, "can it still be fixed?"

"Yes."

"If it can’t be fixed, it’s alright. I’ll be flying there again later this year."

"It can be fixed," Shen Zongnian said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

The old woman smiled. "Was everything alright when you went back to the Shen family yesterday?"

"Yeah," Shen Zongnian looked up at her, "nothing happened, Grandma."

Gao Shuhong remembered how he used to return from the Shen family covered in wounds and bruises when he was little. Such a small child, his bones shattered, yet he never cried once. It made her eyes red just thinking about it.

"Next time, let Ming Boy go with you."

Shen Zongnian tightened his grip on the screwdriver and said softly, "No need, Grandma."

Gao Shuhong propped her chin in her hand. "Grandma worries. Ming Boy can protect you."

Shen Zongnian drew a deep breath. His heart was sixty percent warm, forty percent guilty. Without looking up, he continued working and said quietly, "Grandma, I can protect myself too."

"With one more person, Grandma would worry less."

Just as Gao Shuhong was about to say more, Shen Zongnian finished repairing the sewing machine. "Give it a try."

Gao Shuhong was delighted. "It’s even smoother than before!"

"Added some lubricant." Shen Zongnian packed up his tools.

"Here, Nian, take this." Gao Shuhong handed him a package of dragon's beard candy. "The Li family made it themselves." Shen Zongnian had loved it as a child, so she specially asked them to make some for him.

She added in a whisper, "Don’t tell Ming Boy. His sugar lion is gone." The craftsman no longer worked for the Li family.

Shen Zongnian paused for a moment before accepting it with both hands. "Okay, thank you, Grandma."

"No need for thanks."

Shen Zongnian lowered his head and carried the candy back to the Octagon Building as if cradling a box of hot stones. He stared at the dragon's beard candy for a while before starting to tidy up the jackets, video game consoles, and charging cables scattered on the sofa.

A photo frame sat on the entryway cabinet. The person in the photo had eyes full of life and spirit, but today, those peach-blossom eyes were shadowed with faint dark circles, making him look dejected and weary.

Shen Zongnian closed his eyes and heaved an inward sigh.

The door opened—Tan Youming got back. He paced around aimlessly, casually passing by and tossing out, "Don’t mess up my stuff."

Shen Zongnian didn’t look up. He found their passports and asked, "Aren’t you going to see Felipe?"

Tan Youming was taken aback. "What?"

"Not going?" Shen Zongnian pulled open a drawer to put his passport back.

Tan Youming immediately bent his knee and nudged Shen Zongnian’s arm to stop him. He scoffed and gave the chair a light kick.

After more than a decade together, they had developed their own unspoken understanding for offering compromises and calling truces.

Tan Youming wasn’t one to hold grudges, especially against Shen Zongnian. No matter how angry he was, two days was his limit. But once he knew he had regained the upper hand, he started ordering people around again: "Use your big suitcase for the luggage. Don’t bring an extra one."

"Don’t pack those thick, ugly down jackets for me. Even if you bring them, I won’t wear them."

"And bring my snowboard too."

He issued commands while practically leaning his whole weight on Shen Zongnian.

Shen Zongnian grabbed his ankle and raised an eyebrow. The look in his eyes made Tan Youming’s heart flutter with nervousness, and his shin tingled. He tried to pull his foot back.

Shen Zongnian let go, put away the passport, and stood up. Just as he turned around, he heard Tan Youming say from behind, "Shen Zongnian."

"If you dare go back to the Shen family alone again, just wait and see."

Shen Zongnian turned back, his dark eyes looking down at him. Tan Youming unconsciously straightened up and was about to speak when Shen Zongnian said, "I know."

This little cold war, which hadn’t even lasted three days, was just another ordinary spat in the more than 5,800 days they had spent together, in Tan Youming’s eyes. Only Shen Zongnian knew it was yet another failed attempt to break the pattern.

In every tug-of-war and struggle that Tan Youming didn’t even know existed, Shen Zongnian had never won. He was utterly defeated.

With the upper hand now, Tan Youming began throwing his weight around: "I want black bean steamed fish for dinner."

Shen Zongnian tidied up the clutter. "Tell the auntie."

"I want yours." He hadn’t eaten well at lunch—no, he hadn’t eaten well these past few days.

Shen Zongnian stopped what he was doing and turned to look at him. "Didn’t you have enough on the sea?"

"I didn’t even—" Tan Youming caught on quickly. "How did you know I went out to sea?"

Shen Zongnian didn’t answer and turned back to continue tidying.

Realizing that Shen Zongnian had been tracking his movements these past few days, Tan Youming immediately felt pleased and loudly complained: "I didn’t eat well at all! These past couple of days, you made me so angry my stomach hurt, and I almost fainted on the deck."

Shen Zongnian felt hardly any reaction. Winning sympathy and softening hearts was a natural talent of Tan Youming’s, and he was very good at creating the illusion that he couldn’t live without you.

But Tan Youming never did it intentionally—Shen Zongnian knew his nature.

Still, looking at Tan Youming’s drawn appearance, he said softly, "Tan Youming."

"Yeah?" Tan Youming had been following closely behind him.

"You still need to eat properly." No matter what happens.

Tan Youming was taken aback. If Shen Zongnian had scolded him coldly, he would have retorted without a second thought. But with such a sincere and gentle reminder, Tan Youming felt a little uncomfortable.

"Oh."

Shen Zongnian personally drove the BYD back to Chen Wan, though it was Zhao Shengge who answered the phone.

"It’s fine. You can keep using it if you want." He really didn’t want to see this car again.

Shen Zongnian coldly refused. "No need."

He added, "Thank Chen Wan for me," and hung up before Zhao Shengge could say another word.

He handed Tan Youming a Cayenne key: "You hold onto this."

Tan Youming: "Why give it to me? Trying to get out of chauffeur duty?"

"No, just have it as backup." He couldn't bear the embarrassment of borrowing a car every day.

On the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, as New Year's celebrations ended, the photographer came to the Tan house like always to take the annual family portrait.

The tradition of taking a family portrait each year began with Tan Youming's birth.

The year he turned eleven, Shen Zongnian's face joined the family portrait.

The Tan family portraits were never too formal or fancy; they were more about documenting each member's changes and commemorating another year spent together, so everyone appeared in their everyday attire.

Guan Kezhi wore her usual stylish jeans and white shirt, Tan Zhongshan had on a black flight jacket, the elder Tan was in his daily Zhongshan suit, and Gao Shuhong dressed in a traditional side-fastened outfit.

Shen Zongnian wore a comfortable black hoodie for the day. Tan Youming had initially chosen a blingy, sequined shirt but, upon seeing how Shen Zongnian looked so handsome it made his knees weak in his black hoodie, he changed his mind at the last minute: "I have one like that too." He quickly changed into a white one.

The photographer chatted with Guan Kezhi while setting up his equipment, smiling as he asked, "So, where should we take the picture this year?"

The Tan estate was sprawling, and each year the family portrait was taken in a different spot.

They had captured happy moments before the weeping plum blossoms, in the Jade Screen Pavilion, and all across the Baojing Mountain—every corner of the estate had witnessed the family's joy.

"This year, let Nian choose," Guan Kezhi directed. "Ming picked last year, so it's your turn."

Tan Youming looked at Shen Zongnian, who gave a slight nod. "Go ahead and choose if you want to." He gave him this year's choice.

Tan Youming didn't hesitate. They had already taken photos in front of the horizontal plaque inscribed by his great-grandfather and on the landscape terrace in the courtyard. After looking around, he stopped in front of a painting on the wall, tapping it. "Let's do it here."

The painting featured a forest background, done in a child's drawing style with vibrant oranges and greens. A clever, sly fox had its arm around a stern-faced head wolf, almost like the fox borrowing the tiger's terror.

When Tan Youming was thirteen, he got really into a mainland cartoonist, so much so that even video games lost their appeal. He bought all of the artist's collections and lent one to Zhao Shengge, only to hear later that Old Master Zhao had burned it. Zhao Shengge eventually secretly bought a new copy to replace it.

After that incident, Zhao Shengge never borrowed his comic books again.

Tan Youming didn't mind. When he saw an interview with the artist, he exclaimed, "Wow, he's actually super handsome."

Shen Zongnian frowned and scolded him, "How many days has it been since you last did your homework?"

Tan Youming replied, "And he's only a college junior, with so much talent!"

"..."

Shen Zongnian refused to help him with his homework again but still waited in line all night with a stoic expression when the artist came to Hong Kong for a signing event, just to get an autograph for him.

The young artist, noticing Shen Zongnian's aloof demeanor—so different from every other fan—said with a laugh, "Hey kid, you don't seem to like my work much."

Shen Zongnian's expression turned even colder. "Don't 'kid' me. Just sign it."

"..."

The young artist wasn't sure if this was a fan or a client. Shen Zongnian pointed to a corner and instructed, "Write here: 'To Tan Youming, may you be happy every day.'"

This brightly colored, childlike painting was totally out of place in the Tan family's living room, but Tan Zhongshan had hung it up because Tan Youming liked it so much.

Old Master Tan held his wife's hand, Tan Zhongshan had his arm around Kezhi's shoulder, Shen Zongnian stood straight with little expression on his face, and Tan Youming leaned his head against him, hooking an arm around his neck, smiling wide enough to show his fangs.

With a "click," the moment was captured.

In the frame: rosewood windows, a porcelain vase with plum designs, the vivid painting, green tiles and vermilion eaves, beams carved with dragons and phoenixes, and a couplet on either side—pieces from when Tan Youming and Shen Zongnian practiced calligraphy as children, framed and hung on the wall by Tan Zhongshan.

The left scroll read, "Bestowed with glory, bearing all blessings," and the right, "Firm in celebration, myriad fortunes gather."

This was the happiest of family portraits, yet also a destiny-sealing ledger.

In the photo, everyone smiled warmly and softly. The only one not smiling was steadfastly protecting and preserving this rare, cherished happiness.

However.

Shen Zongnian's promise to take Tan Youming to fly to Rotterdam never happened.

On the seventeenth day of the first lunar month, while the New Year lanterns still hung along Central Avenue, Haishi was suddenly hit by the first seismic event of the year.

"Lin's male model gets married abroad; Mrs. Xie dies furious during the New Year"

"Choosing beauty over the throne, a stray dog scrounging on the streets"

"Xie Gong turns white-haired overnight after losing his wife at sixty; a love that defies death during the reunion festival"

"The wild child, disheveled and seemingly deranged, wails like thunder, driven miles away"