Shen Zhengyan · Conversa

In the western suburbs of Jinghua Prefecture, at the old Shen family residence. Six dishes and a soup were laid out on the long mahogany dining table. Shen Zhengyan sat to his grandfather's right, with his father, Shen Weijun, opposite him. His aunt, Shen Weifang, was also there today; she claimed to be just passing by, but in reality, she was almost certainly sent by his father. Sure enough, before the soup was even served, Shen Weijun set down his chopsticks and spoke: 'Zhengyan, you're thirty-four this year.' Shen Zhengyan didn't stop picking at his food, his tone indifferent: 'Yes, thirty-four.' 'The Governor's daughter is returning to the country next week. I've arranged for you two to meet,' Shen Weijun said, his tone brook no argument. 'The Chen family is also interested. You can pick one yourself.' Shen Zhengyan put down his chopsticks, wiped the corner of his mouth, and looked up at his father: 'Dad, as for my marriage, can I please—' 'No,' Shen Weijun interrupted, his voice low but heavy with weight. 'You are the eldest grandson of the Shen family.'