Chapter 34 Confrontation

Chapter 34: Standoff

"Been in the Shen family for just a few days, and you don't recognize me anymore!?"

"Who do you think you are!?"

"Just as cheap as your whore of a mother!"

"..."

The familiar tone, the familiar address—Shen Shiyan even knew exactly when he would pause, when he would take a breath, when he would glare at him with utter disgust.

Two more slaps landed on his right cheek.

On the street, he didn't feel embarrassed; he was secretly relieved that no one was around, especially Shen Ci. It didn't hurt much either, just some ringing in his ears, as if someone had sounded an air-raid siren right beside him.

Shen Shiyan pressed his tongue against his cheek; the taste of blood filled his mouth.

"Speak. What do you want?" Shen Shiyan lifted his head, looking directly at his wonderful father before him. His gaze was calm, the stark finger marks and swelling clear on his right cheek.

Over the years, Shen Sinian had always been like this. Whether it was family or work, whenever something displeased him, Shen Shiyan was the first to suffer.

He had always prided himself on being a good man, a gentleman. To this day, his legal wife and daughter didn't know he had kept a mistress outside, let alone that Shen Shiyan was less than two years younger than his half-sister.

Shen Sinian's anger subsided a bit. He pushed the wheelchair behind him forward and said, "I heard your grandfather has a private doctor. Have him come examine your grandmother."

Shen Shiyan felt he had heard the biggest joke in the world, so absurd it wasn't even funny, evoking only pity for the one telling it.

"There's a statue of Guanyin in my company. You can go pray to it." Shen Shiyan's voice was flat as he lowered his gaze to the person in the wheelchair.

A wrinkled, pale human skin covered in age spots clung to a loose, fragile skeleton. Her eyes drooped downward, and the corners of her mouth twitched.

The saying that beauty lies in the bones, not the skin, was absolutely right.

Even in her twilight years, now sick and nearing death, one could still glimpse her former grace from that wrinkled face. Otherwise, she wouldn't have caught Shen Wenzhou's eye.

Shen Sinian raised his hand again, but Shen Shiyan gripped his wrist tightly.

"Are you rebelling?" Shen Sinian's face was livid.

The height difference between them was negligible now; Shen Shiyan was even slightly taller. His spine, bent for eighteen years, was now straight. His eyes held only coldness and mockery.

Suddenly, Shen Sinian felt a chill of fear.

Instead of answering, Shen Shiyan asked a question in return: "You couldn't get into the Shen family, but I did. But you know why I could get in, don't you?"

He didn't give Shen Sinian a chance to answer, leaning closer to threaten, word by word: "In the eyes of the Shen family, we're both just stray dogs. Guess what would happen if I took you to Shen Wenzhou right now?"

His voice seemed infused with the chill of the eighteenth layer of hell, each word grating through his teeth into Shen Sinian's ears. A cold wind blew past, making him shiver, goosebumps rising all over his body.

After a long moment, Shen Sinian violently broke free from Shen Shiyan's grip and roared, "Stop fucking trying to scare your father! If that old bastard didn't value you, would he have given you two companies?"

Shen Shiyan sneered. "Then let's try. You can follow me back to the Shen family right now. Naturally, you'll see the private doctor too."

The person in the wheelchair began to struggle, rocking it dangerously. She could no longer make sounds; every part of her body ached, and moving sent pain through her organs, forcing weak "ah, ah" sounds from her throat.

Just as Shen Sinian frantically steadied the wheelchair, he looked up to see Shen Shiyan holding his phone, dialing a number.

"What are you doing!" Shen Sinian tried to snatch it, grabbing only air.

Shen Shiyan, finger poised over the call button, turned the phone to show Shen Sinian the screen. "Didn't you want to go back to the Shen family? I'm calling Shen Wenzhou to send a car."

Shen Sinian's eyes widened. "Don't you dare cause trouble for your father!"

Suddenly, a withered hand stretched out. Perhaps hearing Shen Wenzhou's name, she trembled, trying to reach for Shen Shiyan's phone. The hand hung in mid-air, and even her feeble, incoherent sounds became more broken.

Before Shen Shiyan could pull the phone back, that hand suddenly dropped. The whimpering ceased at the same instant.

A deathly silence fell over the scene.

Shen Sinian, trembling, reached out to check for a breath. There was none.

She was dead.

By the roadside in the cold wind.

In truth, she had died long ago—the moment greed and resentment took root. Years of obsession had long been like venomous snakes slithering through her blood, deep into her marrow, until the poison eroded her organs and sharp fangs severed her last nerve.

Letting go of this world, for her, was not death, but liberation.

The sky darkened. Across the street, a few people trying to make a living while evading city inspectors set up small stalls. Steam rose slowly. The nearest one had a white banner with cute brown lettering that read "Taiyaki."

Shen Shiyan's expression remained unchanged. Before his grandmother's corpse, he showed not a trace of sorrow. What was he thinking in that moment?

When this thought surfaced in his own mind, Shen Shiyan's inner world fell silent for a long time.

He was thinking that on his way home, he would buy Shen Ci a taiyaki.

Shen Sinian stood dazed for a moment, wiped away nonexistent tears, and said to Shen Shiyan, "She's dead. No need for a private doctor now."

Shen Shiyan didn't speak, just watched the man who bore some resemblance to him with cold indifference.

"Money."

Shen Sinian's patience was exhausted; he didn't want to say anything more.

"How much." Shen Shiyan had no extra words for him either.

"Two million." Shen Sinian sized up Shen Shiyan and added, "That's all for now."

Shen Shiyan let out a derisive laugh. "Bank account number."

Shen Sinian came prepared, directly pulling out a bank card for Shen Shiyan to photograph.

"By tomorrow morning at the latest," Shen Shiyan put away his phone, looking indifferently at the woman positioned between them, who should already be stiffening. His tone was icy, devoid of any emotion. "Deal with it soon."

Shen Sinian wanted to erupt but found no words. Even the hand that had slapped Shen Shiyan earlier felt too weak to lift.

He looked at this son he had beaten and berated for nearly twenty years and felt he was a stranger.

Stranger even than the mother in the wheelchair who had controlled his entire life and was now dead.

In the end, Shen Sinian only said, "I want to see the money by eight o'clock."

He knew Shen Shiyan would transfer the money. Even if just for a few days of peace, this most estranged son was also the one he understood best, the easiest to manipulate.

A smile appeared on Shen Sinian's face. In the fading light, with a bizarre, satisfied grin, he slowly pushed the wheelchair away.

Shen Shiyan stood in place, watching until Shen Sinian's figure disappeared into the darkness.