Jinghe Year Fifteen, the seventh day of the fourth month.
At the Shen Residence, three lamps shone brightly, and the remaining tea at the guests' seats was still warm. Clearly, the members of the Shen Faction had only recently dispersed after their discussion.
"Heh. He certainly has nerve."
Shen Duan sat behind his desk and tossed the calling card onto a side table with a cold sneer.
There was only a single line on its face, its strokes as stern and sharp as freshly split bamboo.
[Wei Nisheng, Department Secretary of the Revenue and Expenditure Bureau, Ministry of Revenue]
The steward of the Shen Residence stood with his hands lowered, not daring to respond.
Shen Duan said nothing more. He picked up the calling card again, his gaze settling on the signature. He frowned, then set it down once more.
He had not wanted to receive the visitor, but then he remembered his grandson by the legitimate line, Yi'er...
The bonds of shared incense, the debts of human kindness!
"If I refuse to see him, I might seem lacking in magnanimity!"
Shen Duan gathered his thoughts, his expression indifferent.
"And it would make me look petty."
Naturally, the steward understood what Shen Duan was implying.
He bowed to acknowledge the instruction and was about to withdraw when Shen Duan called him back.
"Wait." Shen Duan rose, paced two steps with his hands behind his back, then stopped.
"Invite him over tomorrow. Through the main gate."
The steward acknowledged the order and withdrew.
The eighth day of the fourth month, midway through the Hour of the Goat.
The main gate of the Shen Residence opened. Wei Zi lifted his sedan curtain and stepped out.
No scarlet robe, no jade belt. He wore an ordinary zhiduō robe with a