"Xiao," his mother pressed, "you need to think of Xuan'er, yourself, and our name. She isn't fit to be Mrs Shen, the matriarch of our family... She will only be an embarrassment.."
"…I will handle it," he said quietly.
"You had better solve it as soon as possible," his father growled. "We are not covering for anything. If there's a scandal, handle it yourself."
And the call ended.
He stood there for a long moment, the phone still pressed to his ear even after the screen had gone black and no sound was coming out of it.
He slowly lowered the receiver, setting it back into its cradle with a soft clack, though the sound rang in his ears like a final verdict.
The sitting room was quiet now, save for the faint creak of the floorboards as a maid passed distantly in the hallway beyond.
A painting on the far wall caught the late light, his grandfather in full military regalia, sharp-eyed and stiff-backed, watching Shen Xiao as if judging the man he'd become.
