The White Moonlight is So Scheming - Chapter 44

The tension was palpable.

The air was thick with the scent of gunpowder.

His neck bulged with anger, fingers trembling uncontrollably as Shen Congjun pointed at Shen Juexia’s nose and raised his voice: “Ungrateful daughter! I don’t want to see you in this house anymore. Get out right now!”

“Oh, so the old mansion is under your command now?” Shen Juexia fiddled idly with her nails, as if wishing the situation would escalate further. “Does Grandpa know about this arrangement?”

In charge of the household?

Hah… He couldn’t even lay a finger on the company’s core operations.

That stubborn old man was blind as a bat, doting on Shen Tinghan day and night while refusing to delegate even a shred of authority to him.

Shen Juexia’s words struck a nerve. Shen Congjun lashed out without thinking: “Disciplining you is my right as your father. Since when do I need his permission?”

……

That guy’s Chinese grades were freakishly good. Paying attention in class would just be a waste of time.

The boy on the left—Ni Zikun, who was sitting between them suddenly straightened up as if realizing something.

He smoothed his hair, tilted his chin up with a flick, conveniently blocking Shen Tinghan from view, and flashed a bright, toothy grin at the foreign-looking beauty on his right.

Shen Juexia could only think he had some serious issues.

And that smile wasn’t radiating sunshine. It was oozing grease.

Thud, thud, thud.

The Chinese teacher suddenly rapped on the blackboard and raised her voice: “Students in the back, pay attention! No zoning out!”

Shen Juexia immediately turned her focus back to the teacher. Unlike Shen Tinghan, she needed to concentrate every second in Chinese class.

“The most prominent theme in this passage is Zhu Zhiwu’s loyalty and righteousness. He bravely ventured into the Qin camp to share his sovereign’s burdens. A true embodiment of the ‘scholar’s spirit’ during the Spring and Autumn period. ”

Swish.

Shen Juexia looked down and found a small note tossed onto her desk. Scribbled on it was: [Why keep staring at me?]

She shot her deskmate an incredulous look, only to see Ni Zikun wearing an expression that screamed I know exactly what’s up. Two parts smug, three parts roguish, four parts indifferent.

“Ni Zikun, stand up!” The Chinese teacher’s brows furrowed. “Fooling around in class and distracting your neighbor. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Ni Zikun had no choice but to rise unsteadily to his feet. His earlier rebellious demeanor finally wilted under the teacher’s authority.

“What does ‘I should return (it)’ mean here?”

“It means…”

“Can’t answer? And yet you still refuse to pay attention?”

Shen Juexia crumpled the note and stuffed it into her pocket, her mood lifting. It had been a while since she’d felt such schadenfreude.

Five minutes before the bell, the Chinese teacher dismissed class early.

“Teacher Wang needs to record a lesson later, right? Everyone, pack up quickly! Teacher Li will be here soon.”

Teacher Wang was their physics instructor. That afternoon, he was scheduled to film a district-level public lecture in the auditorium and needed time to prepare.

To Shen Juexia, recording public lectures was incomprehensible. Both teachers and students were just putting on a show, wasting precious extracurricular time; benefiting no one.

Homeroom teacher Li had already been waiting outside. Her stern, square-jawed face had appeared in the classroom door’s window five minutes prior.

“Now, we need to move our desks and chairs to the second-floor auditorium. Arrange them in pairs, spaced two arm-lengths apart.”

Shen Juexia had already returned to S City ahead of time.

She knew her father didn’t care, and neither did the relatives. She herself was also sick of being treated like a circus monkey.

Everywhere, people were smoking and drinking.

Shen Juexia disliked the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. These dark-skinned, wiry relatives loved drinking while playing finger-guessing games, their shouts loud enough to shake the heavens. Her hearing had always been sharp, and now her eardrums throbbed incessantly with a dull ache.

She missed the drizzly days in England, missed being an ordinary nobody.

Perhaps one day in the future, she would become a remarkable figure who drew attention. But everyone knew which country such figures belonged to, and no one would ask them to say a few words in English just for fun.

“I want to find Mom.”

Shen Dingguo slapped her not too hard, but enough to make those four words bleed. So, Shen Juexia covered her cheek and fell silent, mechanically gathering the clothes on the kang.

They both knew it was an impractical fantasy. Only pain could snap one out of a daydream.

The first thing Shen Juexia did upon returning home was dig out a lockable wooden box and seal her phone inside.

Just before she put it away, a red notification dot popped up on WeChat:

[Yao Qingyan: Want to hang out on Saturday?]

With a snap, Shen Juexia shut the box. The past few days had drained most of her energy. She didn’t even have the strength to reply.

Only by getting into a good university and earning a solid degree could she make real money and escape this godforsaken neighborhood. She had heard about the brutal competition of China’s college entrance exams and knew her father had cut off all her escape routes.

Shen Juexia’s biggest headache was Chinese class.

Though Chinese was her mother tongue, that didn’t make it any less agonizing. Thousands of characters sprawled across the page like arcane scribbles, resurrecting the nightmares of weekend Chinese school from her childhood.

No wonder, back in England, people would look at her with awe when they learned she spoke Chinese.

Now, she felt the same way. Every classmate could effortlessly write an 800-word essay in forty minutes without a single typo, it was absurd.

Especially the classical Chinese section.

Ancient Chinese and Old English operated on completely different logics. One character stood for a word, one sentence implied three, and the translation ended up five times longer than the original. Supposedly, this was called “profound meaning in concise words.”

Shen Juexia bitterly regretted not taking Latin.

If she had studied Latin, another language famed for its “profound conciseness” would classical Chinese have been easier?

Locking away her phone and shutting the windows, cutting off all distractions, Shen Juexia found her studying flowed much smoother.

Sunlight slanted through the window. Unlike her classmates, who immediately drew the curtains, Shen Juexia welcomed the rare warmth. Golden rays that warmed her cheeks and heart alike, flooding her with dopamine.

The lunar calendar truly was a testament to ancient wisdom. After the Spring Festival, the weather really did begin to warm. Clusters of green buds swathed the willow trees by Luoxi Lake.

Bathed in the golden glow, Shen Juexia managed to focus for three uninterrupted hours. A first for her. Only when her empty stomach twisted sharply did she realize it was time to eat.

Recently, Shen Juexia had discovered a new food: instant noodles.

They were infinitely better than the dry, artificially flavored bread she used to eat. Especially the broth, it smelled heavenly. She couldn’t bear to waste even a drop, drinking every last bit.

Instant noodles were a godsend.

Just pour boiling water over it and wait five minutes, and it’s ready to eat. The cup noodles even come with a fork, so you don’t even have to wash dishes afterward. A pack of Master Kong’s braised beef noodles costs two yuan, and adding an egg brings the total to less than three. Eating this every day could save a lot on living expenses.

Shen Juexia boiled the water, pressed the lid down with a pencil case, and finally opened the box at the corner of the table to take out her phone. She turned on the news and short video apps, completely forgetting the message Yao Qingyan had sent earlier.

As she waited, the sound of a piano drifted into her ears.

The walls of the old apartment complex were thin. You could even hear the neighbors snoring at midnight, let alone the kid upstairs practicing piano.

Today, the child was playing Two Tigers again, the same few notes over and over. Shen Juexia was so annoyed she couldn’t even focus on her phone.

Music is beautiful, sure.

But only if you have an ear for it.

Shen Juexia thought again of the violin in the snowy night and that soul-stirring Winter.

There were always street performers at the Wanda Plaza—saxophonists, erhu players, even guitarists rapping.

She decided to go on a whim.

If the weather was sunny, she’d go out to get some vitamin D; if it was cloudy, she’d stay home. She was used to letting logic serve her whims. It made life easier.

Shen Juexia threw on a hoodie and a pair of loose pants that sagged at the hips, threatening to slip down with every step. She rummaged through the closet and found a peeling brown belt, barely saving the pants from disaster.

Her winter wardrobe was especially monotonous. Nothing but black, white, and gray hoodies and wide-leg pants. She didn’t even have to think before going out; no matter how she mixed and matched, it always looked the same.

Twenty minutes later, Shen Juexia stood in front of Wanda Plaza.

Today must be her lucky day. Without even trying, she heard the familiar sound of a violin.

Though Shen Juexia was tone-deaf, she was absolutely certain who was playing.

She followed the music to the western side of the plaza, near the statue of Zu Chongzhi.

Sure enough, Shen Tinghan stood bathed in sunlight, her bow swaying side to side, her fair skin glowing. Her eyes were closed, her glasses hanging from her collar, swaying along with the sweat at her temples.

This was the first time Shen Juexia had heard this piece—melodic and uplifting, not sad at all, like the soundtrack to some movie. And in Shen Tinghan’s hands, it danced like a spirited fawn.

Shen Juexia wanted to toss some money into the case but worried Shen Tinghan might open her eyes at the wrong moment; that would be awkward.

She patted her pockets again but remembered she’d left in such a hurry she hadn’t brought any cash. So, she gave up on the idea.

When the piece ended, Shen Tinghan opened her eyes and saw Shen Juexia standing nearby. This time, she barely reacted, pausing only briefly before raising her bow to play the next song.

Shen Juexia stayed where she was, her gaze flickering between the violinist and the drifting white clouds above.

She stopped wondering why Shen Tinghan was here.

If she’d come all the way to the west side of the city to play, she must be avoiding classmates. There was probably something she didn’t want to talk about, and accidentally prying would only make things worse.

As song after song ended, the small bowl in front of Shen Tinghan grew fuller.

For a moment, Shen Juexia felt a pang of envy. With that much extra spending money, she could eat scallion pancakes from the stall downstairs for every meal.

Too bad she had no marketable talents. She couldn’t very well stand next to Zu Chongzhi and recite Shakespeare.

Finally, Shen Tinghan set down her violin.

This time, she exuded the composure of a seasoned artist, unhurried as she placed the violin and bow into the case, tidied up, and then fastened the small bowl for collecting money.

After slinging the bag over her shoulder, Shen Tinghan walked straight toward her.

Shen Juexia hadn’t expected her to approach first, and her heartbeat suddenly quickened, a nervous tension rising in her throat.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Shen Juexia lowered her head.

Shen Tinghan wiped her glasses with her sleeve and put them on.

“Which problem did you want to ask about today?”

Shen Juexia’s ears burned instantly.

“I—I’m not here to ask about a problem. I just came to hang out, and I happened to see you playing the violin. It sounded so beautiful, I couldn’t help but stand here and listen. Don’t get the wrong idea. Last time too, I really just wanted to hear you play. You’re amazing.”

When nervous, she couldn’t stop talking. An old habit that hadn’t changed.

“I see. Thank you.” Shen Tinghan gave a slight nod, almost like a bow.

She was so polite. So polite that it left Shen Juexia at a loss for words. She subtly rubbed her fingers together inside her coat pocket.

The two stood facing each other for a moment before, as if by unspoken agreement, they both started walking toward the bus stop.

Shen Tinghan broke the silence first: “I finished reading The Moon and Sixpence.”

Shen Juexia’s eyes lit up immediately. “Did you like it?” she asked eagerly.

“I liked it but not entirely.” Shen Tinghan looked at her face, earnest and sincere.

“Why?” Shen Juexia’s heart skipped a beat.

The students around them began standing up and clearing their desks.

Shen Juexia sighed inwardly, gripping the sides of her desk in preparation to move it.

“Shen Juexia, you don’t need to move it. Just leave it there,” the homeroom teacher said, clearing his throat before announcing to the class, “All girls, wait in the hallway and review the material for the next class. All boys, stay behind to move the desks.”

Why?

The instruction was so baffling that Shen Juexia wondered if she was dreaming.

The other girls in the class filed out one by one, but she remained motionless. Yao Qingyan, standing at the front of the classroom, waved at her, but she still didn’t move.

Shen Juexia walked up to the homeroom teacher. “Why should only the boys move the desks?” She didn’t think the girls in the class were incapable of lifting a desk.

Shen Tinghan, who had been passing by, stopped in her tracks and turned to look.

The teacher patted Shen Juexia’s shoulder and smiled. “Let the boys show some gentlemanly spirit for this kind of heavy work. You girls should cherish your advantages.”

Shen Juexia lowered her head without another word. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shen Tinghan avert her gaze and quietly slip out of the classroom.

In the hallway, the girls of Class 3, Grade 1 gathered in small groups, ostensibly preparing for the open class but mostly chatting about unrelated things.

When Sun Zhizhi saw Shen Juexia finally emerge, she rushed over. “Hey, hey did the dark-skinned little princess confess to you? You didn’t say yes, right?”

Shen Juexia had wanted to keep it a secret, but somehow, some bigmouth had let half the class know about it.

“No,” she replied, hoping her cold tone would end the conversation.

Sun Zhizhi, sensing the lack of interest, turned to chat about games with Yao Qingyan instead.

The class sports committee and two tall boys came out of the classroom, each carrying a desk. They had rolled up their uniform sleeves to show off their bulging muscles and whistled softly as they passed the girls.

Shen Juexia peeked through the back door.

None of the boys were idle, but some were clearly slacking off, their displeasure written all over their faces.

Taking a few steps forward, she overheard a conversation on the other side of the door—soft-spoken, but not too faint to catch.

“Why don’t the girls have to move anything?”

“You think they can even lift this stuff?”

“She’s not my girlfriend! I don’t owe her free labor for grunt work.”

“Help the Ice Queen move her desk, earn a smile from the beauty. It’s a solid investment.”

“Kong Wenlong already moved out, okay?”

Long disillusioned with the man who was once nominally his “father,” Shen Juexia felt not even a ripple of emotion at those words. Instead, the corners of his lips curled in smug satisfaction, eager to stoke the flames further.

Like a deflated, rotting ball, Shen Congjun’s bravado slowly leaked away as he shrank back, stammering, “Father, listen to me! I just wanted to pave the way for Zi Cheng in advance.”

“Pave the way? You idiot, haven’t I paved the way for you?” Panting heavily, Shen Huimin clenched his fists. “You have five minutes to get rid of this person. Then come to my study immediately.”

After delivering those words, Shen Huimin shot Shen Congjun a withering glare of disappointment before storming off.

Staring blankly at his father’s retreating figure, Shen Congjun remembered the promise he had made to Jiang Ziyun and tried one last desperate plea. “Father, listen! Jiang Hui is a good kid. Everything I did was for the sake of the Shen family!”

“Brother-in-law, please, just stop talking.”

Stepping forward, Jiang Hui grabbed Shen Congjun’s arm, his face ashen as he shook his head.

Turning to face him, the two men exchanged a helpless look.

Shen Congjun weakly punched his own thigh, his voice thick with humiliation and fury. “It’s all that bastard’s fault. He ruined everything!”