Chapter Ninety-One: Too Cliché

Given their relationship, Xiao Yan would never do anything to harm the Duke of Zhen’s household in the future.

As expected, not long afterward, Xiao Yan arrived at Shaohua Courtyard together with Shen Si Nian.

Shen Si Nian’s face was wreathed in smiles, his steps slightly hurried, as if he had encountered some great fortune; this surprised Shen Nan Yuan a little.

For him to appear so delighted, it must be a truly wonderful event.

Qing Rui and Jin Zhu greeted him with proper ceremony. He walked straight up to Shen Nan Yuan, his eyes brimming with joy. “Yuan Yuan.”

Shen Nan Yuan looked up, puzzled.

“Father is coming home.”

He held a letter in his hand. “He should be in the capital within a month.”

Shen Nan Yuan’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Really?”

She was overjoyed. “That’s wonderful!”

“Father has returned much earlier than expected,” Shen Si Nian smiled and raised his brows, “perhaps he wished to make it back before your birthday.”

Hearing this, Shen Nan Yuan paused for a moment before realizing that her birthday was indeed approaching.

Just one month left.

It seemed Shen Yi truly wanted to return before her birthday.

A gentle warmth spread across her heart; though she was not the original Shen Nan Yuan, she could not help but feel moved.

Shen Si Nian casually picked up a slice of watermelon and took a bite, handing another to Xiao Yan at his side, then asked with a smile, “What birthday gift do you want this year, Yuan Yuan?”

“How can you ask someone what they want?” Shen Nan Yuan replied, “If I say it myself, there’s no mystery left. You should come up with something yourself.”

Before entering the story, whenever it was her birthday, her family and friends would always give her gifts; she enjoyed the process of opening presents and the happiness it brought, not the gifts themselves.

Shen Si Nian sighed, troubled.

“Every year, the hardest thing is deciding what birthday present to give you.”

“Whatever you give, I’ll be happy.”

Xiao Yan’s gaze lingered on Shen Nan Yuan, his brows lowered in contemplation.

This would be the first birthday he spent with her, the first gift he would give; like Shen Si Nian, he had no idea what would be best.

Xiao Yan pressed his lips together, feeling rare uncertainty.

Shen Nan Yuan suddenly remembered something. “By the way, big brother, let’s not make a grand affair of my birthday this year. It’s enough for us to have dinner with Father and Mother at home.”

She didn’t want the trouble.

Inviting nobles and those close to the Duke’s household was far too much hassle and utterly exhausting. All the birthday gifts from those people would surely arrive at the Duke’s mansion on time anyway; whether the celebration was grand or not made no difference.

Especially since Shen Yi would have just returned triumphant, coming home for her birthday—what mattered was a simple family meal.

She grinned mischievously and continued, “They’ll still send their gifts, so we won’t lose out.”

“This…” Shen Si Nian hesitated, “I’m not sure Mother will agree. Your birthday is the most important day each year. We should ask her.”

“Mother will definitely agree.”

If they used Shen Yi’s return as an excuse, saying he needed rest, Lady Shen would surely give in.

Shen Si Nian sighed, “You really are different from others. Most girls want their birthdays celebrated grandly, but you don’t.”

In past years, preparations for Shen Nan Yuan’s birthday began a month in advance.

This year, it would be much simpler.

He paused, then laughed, “When Father returns and sees the house so quiet, as if no one’s celebrating your birthday, won’t he scold me for neglecting it?”

Shen Nan Yuan exclaimed, “I’ll explain to Father myself. He’ll listen to me.”

Shen Si Nian’s tone grew slightly sour, “Yes, Father always listens to his daughter and dotes on his precious girl.”

“Why are you jealous? You can act spoiled with Father too; maybe he’ll listen to you.”

“No way,” Shen Si Nian waved his hand quickly, “If Father doesn’t smack me, I’ll count myself lucky.”

The scene was vivid and lively.

The group around Shen Nan Yuan couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

There was a plain yet indescribable harmony, as if there were no barriers of status.

Even Xiao Yan’s expression softened.

He felt enveloped by warmth, as if his whole being had thawed; he rather liked it.

It was precious and rare.

Only this small corner of Shaohua Courtyard held such warmth.

——

Liu Yu Li hurried to the Prince’s residence, entering Jun Ci’s study, breathless.

“You sent for me in such urgency—has something happened?”

Jun Ci sat in his chair. Hearing the question, he looked up, his eyes showing traces of fatigue as he spoke quietly, “It’s almost Shen Nan Yuan’s birthday. I wanted to ask your advice on what to give her.”

“That’s it?” Liu Yu Li plopped into a chair, exasperated. “Your servant said I was needed urgently. I thought something serious had happened—just for this?”

He waved his hand impatiently. “How should I know what to give? I’ve never sent a birthday gift to a young lady.”

Jun Ci pinched the bridge of his nose, lips pressed tight. After a moment, he said, “I did give her birthday presents two or three times before, but I always had someone choose something from the storeroom at random. Now, I want to give her something heartfelt, but I don’t know what would suit her.”

“You’ve given gifts to Miss Lin before, haven’t you? Couldn’t you just follow that—” Liu Yu Li stopped abruptly, realizing his mistake.

Jun Ci’s relationship with Lin Yan was now strained; Lin Yan had caused several scenes, though they were kept quiet and few knew. It was not a subject to mention.

He coughed lightly and glanced at Jun Ci’s expression, continuing, “Perhaps a hairpin, or something made of jade? Girls usually like those.”

“Too cliché.” Jun Ci closed his eyes. “I don’t want that.”

This time, Liu Yu Li thought seriously. After pondering a moment, he suggested, “Your paintings are widely admired and nearly impossible to obtain. Why not paint something for Miss Shen as her gift?”

Hearing this, Jun Ci felt as if his heart had been struck hard, a deep ache swelling within.

He clenched his hand tightly, his breathing quickening.

Once… Shen Nan Yuan had wanted him to paint for her. He had always brushed her off impatiently, so after all these years, he had never painted for her.

Suddenly, a pair of clear eyes tinged with disappointment appeared in his mind, sharp as a blade, slicing his heart and drawing fresh blood.

His fingers curled, knuckles whitening.

It was as if a crisp voice echoed beside his ear: “Brother Jun, will you paint something for me?”

He let out a heavy breath and, after a moment, answered softly, “All right.”