Chapter 41 Happy New Year

Chapter 41: Happy New Year

The butler at his side handed him a document.

Shen Wenzhou flipped through it as he went on, "Shen Siwen lacks ability, still mediocre and incompetent in middle age, and has no children. I’m also well aware of what Shen Siyu has been doing behind the scenes all these years—he's too calculating. Besides, his wife’s Liang family has been expanding their business, and they've got their eyes on the Shen family estate. As for Shen Sicheng, there’s no need to say more."

The document detailed the income, expenses, and management of Yuhe and Chonghe over the past six months.

Shen Shiyan stood up, bowing his head a little. "A few days of rest and you'll be fine. The Shen family still needs you at the helm."

Shen Wenzhou made a gesture for him to sit. "If either of your older brothers had half your filial devotion, I wouldn’t be considering you. Now that you hold the deep-sea oil and gas project and have the backing of Xingtu, your future is limitless. You've also got a solid handle on the energy sector. The position of family head..."

With age, Shen Wenzhou had increasingly felt his own limitations. His coughing fits came more often, and he'd been coughing up blood clots for several mornings straight.

He never shared his medical checkup results with anyone, always claiming everything was fine. Only he knew the truth—no matter how many fortune tellers or doctors he called in, none could save his life.

The master who'd originally done the feng shui reading for the Shen family was advanced in years. That morning, Shen Wenzhou had consulted him again, not about his own fate, but about the family’s. The master said others had too many hidden agendas, and that among the Shen family’s century-old foundation, only one person could keep it going.

Who that person was, the master didn’t say, but Shen Wenzhou had a pretty good idea who that was.

After a lifetime of ups and downs, with illness now beginning to show, money, power, status—all felt like a fistful of fine sand, no matter how hard he gripped, slipping right through his fingers.

Shen Shiyan stood up again. "You're too kind. I'm not cut out for this position. Second Brother's a better fit."

Shen Wenzhou observed Shen Shiyan’s expression, took a sip of ginseng tea from the nightstand, and said, "Alright, go on back for now. We’ll discuss it after the New Year."

He had yet to draft a formal will. He still had some hope for Shen Siwen and Shen Siyu. Calling Shen Shiyan in was more of a test.

Shen Shiyan said, "Take care," and left respectfully.

Walking slowly along the path, a deep disgust welled up in him—disgust at his own hypocrisy and endless lies.

But Shen Wenzhou was too suspicious. He couldn’t compete openly; he had to use this retreat-to-advance tactic.

Although the Shen family didn’t touch drugs or gambling, Shen Shiyan knew there were many armed bodyguards in the Shen estate. The family had connections with overseas arms dealers. If they wanted to dispose of someone, sending them overseas was as easy as squashing an ant. That was one reason the Shen family had stood firm for so many years.

Once Shen Wenzhou passed away and Shen Siwen or Shen Siyu took over, neither he nor Shen Ci would end up well.

He couldn't avoid it, and he couldn't run from it either.

From the night he was found and brought back to the Shen family, he was destined to wade into this mess.

Shen Shiyan didn't get a wink of sleep all night.

On New Year’s morning, he had to attend the main hall. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and beside him stood Shen Ci, dressed in a new red outfit.

The tedious old customs added a layer of oppressive heaviness to the Shen family’s New Year festivities. Many relatives and guests came to pay respects and give gifts. Not only did one have to observe all formalities, but every word had to be carefully chosen to avoid taboos.

A lantern on the ancestral hall’s eaves tilted with the wind, its yellow tassels scattering and then coming back together. Inside, wooden spirit tablets gleamed in the candlelight on the high altar. On the prayer mat, a figure knelt with hands clasped in sincere prayer.

Only after the ancestral rites were done did the day's schedule really end, and the vigil began.

Shen Ci was still young, so he didn't have to put on a fake smile and exchange pleasantries like Shen Shiyan.

On the table was a sweet-and-sour mandarin fish. Shen Ci stared at it for a long time, swallowing as his stomach growled twice.

Shen Wenzhou sat upright in the master’s armchair, dressed in brocade robes. He took a stack of red envelopes from the butler and began distributing them clockwise, starting with Shen Siwen on his left. As he spoke, a rare hint of warm, grandfatherly affection crept into his voice.

"Last year, the Shen family gained a new member. Though there were storms, we passed through safely. As the New Year begins, I hope the businesses and studies of each branch will strive for excellence. These red envelopes are New Year gifts, and a good omen for the year ahead!"

The envelopes were thick. One by one, the circle stood up, received them with both hands, offered tea and wine, and spoke words of respect.

At the table, no one was allowed to open them. Shen Rong felt his own envelope, and while the adults talked, he proudly shook it at Shen Ci, hinting his was way thicker.

Shen Shiyan caught the little gesture and glanced down at Shen Ci.

As the midnight bell tolled, the sound of firecrackers crackled outside. Fireworks bloomed in the night sky, and steaming dumplings were brought to the table.

By tradition, each person had one bowl. Among the dozen or so bowls, only one dumpling contained a coin. Whoever found it would receive a year’s worth of good fortune.

Shen Wenzhou had had some aged liquor. Shen Siwen whispered a lot of flattery beside him. In the end, Shen Wenzhou still favored this eldest son, the one he'd pinned so many hopes on. He took another sip of the wine Shen Siwen had poured and said, "After the businesses open on the eighth, Siwen, you'll go back to Chonghe."

Shen Siwen's face lit up with smug delight, crow's feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he repeatedly thanked Shen Wenzhou. Finally, he raised his wine glass slightly toward Shen Shiyan, a hint of provocation in his gesture. "I must thank my younger brother for his care of Chonghe these past months."

Shen Siyu chimed in with a few teasing remarks. His real estate project had been fully secured before the New Year, and Shen Wenzhou had praised him generously.

Shen Shiyan stood to return the toast, downing his glass in one gulp before sitting back down with a faint smile. "You're too kind, Big Brother."

Go ahead and laugh. You won’t be laughing tomorrow morning.

Shen Sicheng had prepared only one red envelope. He slipped it under the table, bypassing Shen Shiyan, and stuffed it directly into Shen Ci’s arms. Pulling his hand back, he leaned closer to Shen Shiyan and whispered, "Same routine every year. Seeing their smug faces kills my appetite..."

Before Shen Shiyan could tell him to stop, Shen Ci suddenly let out a hiss.

Shen Ci had bitten down on something hard. He spat out a gold coin, marked with two tooth impressions, which clinked onto the white porcelain plate.

The hall fell silent for a moment. All eyes turned to Shen Ci. Seeing that he had found the coin, Shen Wenzhou’s face flickered with displeasure, but he quickly attributed the good fortune to Shen Shiyan.

After all, it couldn’t be allowed to benefit an outsider with no Shen blood.

After the meal, the women invited a few neighbor ladies for a game of mahjong. Shen Wenzhou didn’t interfere with such small household amusements and even played a few rounds himself, winning a self-drawn pure suit hand.

Shen Shiyan had been plied with plenty of wine by Shen Sicheng. After asking Shen Wenzhou for permission, he took Shen Ci back to the side courtyard.

It was now three in the morning. He hadn’t slept in two days and a night. After a day of flattery and sycophancy, he was exhausted, stumbling twice as he walked. Once inside the living room, he collapsed directly onto the sofa.

Outside, firecrackers continued to roar. Fireworks from all directions nearly lit up the sky. Shen Ci held the cleaned gold coin in his left hand and two red envelopes in his right, staring blankly out the window.

Shen Shiyan lifted his eyelids to look at him. The alcohol roughened his voice, making it low and pleasing. "Go feel under your pillow."

Shen Ci snapped out of it, pattered over, and soon let out several excited cries. He ran back out, holding an extremely thick red envelope.

Shen Shiyan had slipped it there that morning without anyone noticing, intending for Shen Ci to discover it himself. But seeing that Shen Ci hadn’t seemed happy earlier, he assumed it was because Shen Rong had flaunted his thicker envelope.

The one Shen Shiyan had prepared was thicker than both Shen Wenzhou’s and Shen Sicheng’s combined—heavy and substantial.

Shen Ci threw himself directly onto Shen Shiyan, pressing his whole weight down, hands bracing on the sofa. His eyes sparkled in the light of the fireworks outside.

Before Shen Shiyan could say "get off," Shen Ci’s little head came down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Soft lips touched his skin, light and ticklish.

"Daddy." Shen Ci happily wrapped his arms around Shen Shiyan’s neck, his voice very small. "Happy New Year."

The sound of firecrackers seemed to explode directly inside Shen Shiyan’s eardrums. His heart pounded fast in his chest, beating against Shen Ci’s.

After a long moment, he said very softly, "Shen Ci, Happy New Year."