It was the end of March when Little Shen found it, and in the blink of an eye, the Dragon Boat Festival in June is almost here.

The sound of washing clothes came from the courtyard. Zhan Xinjia lazily leaned on the window and looked out. In the fenced yard full of wildflowers, the young man was sitting on a small stool on the stone steps, carefully washing the old clothes that the two of them had worn out of the cave in the bright sunlight.

The outer robe was stained with blood and had some scratches and snags.

If it were some domineering prince, those two pieces of clothing would probably have been thrown away long ago.

But Xiao Shen's way of life is very similar to hers: if it can be washed clean, it can be worn. The money to buy clothes doesn't grow on trees. What kind of family is this that would wear one piece and throw it away?

Thinking back to when I used to go shopping with Master Shen, he was the type who would haggle with people when buying groceries.

At that time, Zhan Xinjia asked, "Young Master Shen, Young Master Shen, you are so rich, why do you still haggle with people for so long over a bunch of vegetables?"

She thought only poor people like her would act like that.

Just then, Lord Shen, who had just bought two cabbages at a satisfactory price, tapped her forehead with his knuckles.

"I'm just rich, not sick. Why not take the cheaper option? I can save a penny or two and buy you a piece of malt candy at the alley entrance."

Pulling herself out of her reverie, Zhan Xinjia rubbed her eyes again after being blinded by the sunlight that had climbed onto the windowsill. Little Shen was already there, sewing another of her slightly torn jackets with a sewing basket in hand.

The background is a vast expanse of rice paddies outside the fenced yard, their surface rippling in the wind, stretching as far as the eye can see.

The clouds drifted lazily across the clear, azure sky.

The warm sunlight of early summer dappled through the gaps in the jujube tree branches outside the courtyard, falling on his shoulders and hair. Accompanied by the rustling of the leaves, his shadows swayed gently in the wind, and time flowed by.

A light blue jacket draped over his knees. He sat on the stone steps with his knees bent, his eyes lowered. His long, slender fingers picked up a fine needle and pulled out a long thread, slowly and deliberately hiding the thread inside the jacket.

The young man appeared calm and composed, his movements fluid and graceful.

As the years passed by him, they seemed to be exceptionally quiet and gentle, like green leaves that swirled and landed on his shoulder before being casually brushed away by the next breeze, unwilling to leave any flaws or marks on him.

Zhan Xinjia squinted sleepily and rested her head on the windowsill for a long time.

Having lived a comfortable life in Linshui Village for so long, she sometimes forgot that she and Lord Shen had actually fled for their lives.

I wonder what the situation is like in Yaozhou City, whether Yan Yuyao's old prescription is effective or not, and most importantly, whether Fu Shou'an and the others are still alive.

She was also a little worried that the pursuers from Lanjiang might follow the trail of the fall off the cliff and find their way to Linshui Village. She didn't want to disturb the carefree and peaceful paradise.

Worrying won't help; Lady Shen's injuries haven't fully healed yet, and she's still limping.

At this point, Zhan Xinjia has to praise the unique judgment mechanism of the storybook; if it were in a normal world—

A penetrating arrow wound allows someone to get out of bed the next day, and a broken leg allows someone to run and jump (albeit on one leg) within days. Is this normal?!

But the story doesn't talk about whether it's reasonable or not; it remains silent and simply pushes the plot forward.

By the way, since this is Master Shen's former home, there might still be some old antiques left behind from when he lived there.

Zhan Xinjia immediately became interested and started rummaging through the documents.

The wooden door frame was roughly marked with several engravings. Zhan Xinjia compared them and realized that this seemed to be a ruler used to record Lord Shen's height. The engravings disappeared at the ninth mark, and then suddenly jumped up a lot higher.

The carvings for the first few years were likely made by Master Shen's parents. After his parents passed away in the ninth year, Master Shen was taken to live in a Taoist temple for several years until he returned to his home at the age of thirteen.

Therefore, the records after the ninth are Xiao Shen's own.

Imagining a young, tiny Shen Daren standing solemnly under the doorframe, marking his head as he drew lines, her heart softened yet ached. But there was something even more heartbreaking—

Her height could only reach the eleventh mark at most!

That is to say, when Xiao Shen was fourteen years old, he was already taller than her.

Zhan Xinjia, fuming, tucked her hands into her pockets and plopped down next to the door.

The young man who was sewing clothes not far away was drawn to her sulking and turned his gaze over. Seeing the little girl puffing out her cheeks and wondering what was wrong with her again, he smiled helplessly.

"Ah Zhi?"

Zhan Xinjia ignored him and quickly went inside.

In the corner of the main room, there were several old wooden boxes piled up. It was assumed that Master Shen had packed away all the odds and ends when she cleaned the room. She climbed into the boxes and looked through them one by one.

What's this? A cloth tiger! So Little Shen had his own cloth tiger when he was little. How cute!

This looks like the calligraphy practice book that Master Shen used when he was a child. It turns out that Master Shen didn't have beautiful handwriting from a young age. His handwriting was crooked and messy at first!

Why is there a small wooden sword? Could it be that Lord Shen once dreamed of being a chivalrous knight-errant?

Zhan Xinjia lay contentedly in the huge wooden box, rummaging around. No matter what she pulled out, she couldn't help but laugh. This place was like a secret base full of treasures, carrying the past of Lord Shen that she had never experienced.

And at this moment, she witnessed all of this again.

In the courtyard, when Shen Suqing finished sewing the clothes and discovered that the little girl who had been right under his nose was gone again, he sighed.

If a child is quiet, they're definitely up to no good.

When Shen Suqing lifted her out of the dirty box by the back of her collar like a rabbit, she was still holding a crimson robe in front of her, gesturing back and forth.

The little girl's eyes sparkled, and she grinned, revealing two sharp canine teeth, her smile charming and innocent.

"Young Master Shen, are these your old clothes?"

Shen Suqing was taken aback.

"This... I found it back in my hometown, and I was wondering why I couldn't find it anymore."

This is a very ordinary piece of clothing, but of course, it has a special meaning for him.

When he passed the imperial examination with top honors, he rode a white horse in this scarlet official robe and returned home in glory.

The yamen runners dispatched by the local magistrate cleared the way, and a red carpet was laid out on the road. The crowd was noisy and bustling, and the people on both sides bowed their heads in worship. When they occasionally raised their heads, their eyes were full of respect and admiration when they looked up at him.

At that time, Shen Suqing felt no excitement. Looking up at those unfamiliar faces from above, he felt more disappointed than anything else.

He fulfilled his parents' expectations of him, but his parents are now in their graves.

The young scholar, a top scholar, rode into the prosperous world. His hooves splashed up fallen flowers that covered the bluestone path, and the petals were quickly crushed into mud by the horse's hooves, leaving only a lingering fragrance.

At that time, Shen Suqing never imagined that one day he would see this garment again in another way.