Transmigration; Married to My Ex-Fiancé's Uncle-Chapter 376; Reclaiming 1

The man blinked, visible relief flickering across his weathered face at receiving practical, reasonable instructions rather than emotional commands driven purely by anger. "Y-Yes, Miss. We can transplant them to the southern grounds or perhaps donate some to the botanical gardens in the city if you’d prefer."

"Use your professional judgment," Shuyin said, trusting his expertise. "Whatever will give them the best chance of continued health. I want them removed from this space, but I don’t want them to die in the process."

She paused in her digging, straightening to survey the garden with calculating eyes. "And once the ground is completely cleared, once we’ve removed every trace of what was imposed here, we begin replanting according to the original design. I have my mother’s garden journals stored away. They contain detailed notes about what grew where, what thrived in which seasons, how the space was meant to flow."

Even in the absence of the original Shuyin, she had her memories and they were very clear.

Yuyan perked up immediately, her attention sharpening. "The peach trees? You’re really going to plant them again?" 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Shuyin’s expression softened into something almost nostalgic, memory painting warmth across features that had been hard with determination moments before. "Yes. Peach trees first, in the same locations my grandfather chose. He knew this land, understood how the sun moved across it through the seasons, where water collected, and where drainage was best. His choices weren’t arbitrary or purely aesthetic. They were practical and beautiful in equal measure."

Her gaze drifted toward the far wall where imported roses currently climbed in stiff, controlled lines, their growth shaped and constrained by regular pruning into artificial perfection. "And jasmine along that wall again. My mother loved jasmine. The scent in summer evenings was..." she trailed off, memory stealing words for a moment. "It was home. Real home, not just a building we happened to inhabit."

Chen Xiao looked up at her quietly, his small face serious with the weight of a question he feared asking. "And the swing?" The words came out hesitant, barely above a whisper, as if he feared asking for too much, feared being denied or laughed at for wanting something so frivolous.

Shuyin’s expression warmed immediately, her features softening further. She reached down without thinking and ran her muddy hand gently over his hair, leaving streaks of dirt but offering comfort. "Yes," she said with gentle certainty. "The swing comes back too. We’ll plant a new banyan tree in the same location where the old one stood, and as it grows large enough, we’ll hang the swing again. It might take years before the tree is strong enough, but we’ll do it."

Something eased visibly in the child’s posture at that promise, a small piece of tension he’d been carrying unwinding from his small shoulders. The future suddenly seemed more certain, more permanent. They would be here long enough to watch a tree grow. That meant stability beyond anything he’d known in his short, traumatic life.

The servants began moving at last, uncertainty giving way to purposeful action. Tools were fetched from storage buildings. Instructions were passed from the head gardener to individual crew members. Workers approached the orchids and bonsai trees carefully, beginning the process of lifting them from the soil with attention to preserving root systems intact. Order returned to the courtyard, but it was a fundamentally different kind of order now. Lively rather than sterile. Growing rather than controlled. Hopeful rather than oppressive.

Mud squelched underfoot as activity spread through the garden like ripples across water. Voices called back and forth. Shovels hit the earth. Wheelbarrows creaked under loads of displaced plants. The sounds of transformation filled the air that had been too quiet for too long.

Shuyin stepped back from her own digging for a moment, breathing deeply, letting her lungs fill with morning air. The scent still carried notes of expensive roses and chemical fertilizer, artificial perfection maintained through constant intervention. But beneath those imposed smells, she imagined another scent already beginning to return, waiting just beneath the surface. Peach blossoms in spring, their delicate sweetness announcing new seasons. Jasmine at night, heavy and intoxicating when the evening cooled the air. Earth that held memory instead of control, soil that knew what it was meant to grow rather than being forced to sustain foreign species.

Lu Yuze approached quietly, his clean clothes a stark contrast to everyone else’s mud-covered state. He stopped beside her, following her gaze across the garden being systematically dismantled and reimagined. "You realize," he said mildly, conversationally, "this will start an immediate war the moment Madam Chen hears about what you’ve done to her precious garden."

Shuyin watched as Yuyan attempted to direct two gardeners who were easily twice her size, the twelve-year-old girl pointing imperiously while covered in mud, completely oblivious to how ridiculous and wonderful she looked. Nearby, Chen Xiao carefully carried a small uprooted plant toward the transplanting area, his movements precise and gentle despite his youth, treating the displaced orchid with more care than it had probably ever received.

A faint smile curved Shuyin’s lips, satisfaction settling warm in her chest. "The war already started when they had tried to erase my mother," she replied, her voice carrying quiet conviction. "When they destroyed her garden and replaced her memory with their artificial perfection. When they locked me away and pretended I never existed. The war has been ongoing for years. I’m just choosing where to make my first visible stand, where to stake my first public claim."

Lu Yuze studied her profile for a long moment, reading layers beneath her words. This wasn’t revenge born purely of anger, though anger certainly fueled it. This wasn’t destruction for destruction’s sake, though destruction was necessary. This was reclamation. Identity. Home. The fundamental human need to exist in a space that acknowledged your existence, that held your history, that reflected who you were rather than erasing you completely.

Behind them, Yuyan’s laughter rose again as she slipped in mud for what must have been the dozenth time and accused the ground of deliberate betrayal in tones of mock outrage. Even Chen Xiao’s quiet giggle followed, the sound rare and precious and worth more than any amount of perfectly maintained landscaping.