Liu Jue returned home, so furious that he gathered a group of subordinates in the grove to spar with him. He struck like the wind, showing no mercy in his blows, until he’d beaten a whole group to exhaustion, their arms sore, before he stopped. Without even looking at anyone, he returned to Songfeng Hall and stared angrily at the portrait hanging on the wall.

Liu Ying watched the young prince’s ashen face cautiously, not understanding why someone normally so composed and unreadable would be in such a temper. He asked ingratiatingly, “My lord, now that you’ve found that little girl, how do you plan to get revenge?”

Hearing this, Liu Jue’s temper flared again. He looked down at Liu Ying and sneered coldly, “The Chancellor Li’s third young lady, younger sister of the future Crown Prince’s secondary consort, someone quite close to the Fourth Prince—what do you think?”

The more Liu Ying listened, the more he felt he’d touched a sensitive subject. No wonder she’d dared knock out the young prince—she had backing. But they couldn’t act against her openly, and it was clear this was what troubled his lord. Hearing about her closeness to the Fourth Prince, he couldn’t help adding, “Isn’t the Fourth Prince already betrothed to marry Chancellor Gu’s daughter?”

At the Peach Blossom Banquet, Liu Jue had heard Gu Tianlin’s music and developed deep admiration for the elegant and intelligent girl. At the Mid-Autumn banquet, seeing Gu Tianlin dance so gracefully, he’d secretly fallen for her. He’d had to leave temporarily for some matter and missed hearing Li Qinglei play the zither, and afterward heard that the Crown Prince had been moved by a piece called “Autumn Waters,” but he hadn’t taken much notice. At the Mid-Autumn banquet, seeing the two young women as equally matched, he’d wanted to seek out Gu Tianlin, but by mistake he’d instead encountered the little girl who knocked him out. He studied the portrait daily, without realizing that those clear, sparkling eyes were already deeply imprinted in his mind. Now that Gu Tianlin had been betrothed to the Fourth Prince, how could he not be upset?

Seeing the young prince staring blankly at the portrait on the wall, Liu Ying, knowing it was a painting of the Gu family’s daughter, slapped himself and apologized regretfully, “This subordinate spoke out of turn—I deserve death!”

Liu Jue, his mind made up, said flatly, “Enough. Prepare a calling card. I’m going to pay a visit to Chancellor Li.”

When Chancellor Li heard that Liu Jue had come to visit, he pondered the matter secretly. The Anqing Prince held illustrious military achievements and had long led troops stationed at the western frontier. The prince’s estate was managed thoroughly by this young prince. The court held the Crown Prince in highest regard, yet quite a number of people supported the Fourth Prince. The Crown Prince was the current Empress’s biological son, while the Fourth Prince was the son of the late Empress. Prince Ning still held deep feelings for the late Empress, and though constraints of succession by seniority and the power of the current Empress’s Wang family had led him to establish Liu Jian as Crown Prince, in his heart he doted greatly on this Fourth Prince. Chancellor Li fully supported the Crown Prince, with Grand Marshal Wang’s daughter entering the Eastern Palace, clearly weakening the Fourth Prince’s position, while Prince Ning had swiftly betrothed Chancellor Gu’s only daughter to the Fourth Prince.

The Emperor’s true intentions were hard to fathom. If Prince Ning intended for the Fourth Prince to eventually inherit the throne, the Anqing Prince’s opinion would carry great weight—only he, commanding troops, could suppress the Empress’s maternal relatives and help the Fourth Prince ascend. Now, with Liu Jue’s visit, what intentions did the Anqing Prince’s household harbor?

A’Luo had just returned from outside when word came from the main hall that Old Master Li wanted her. Not knowing what the matter was, she went to the hall and bowed properly. She’d already spotted Liu Jue sitting to the side, smiling like a fox, and knew he’d come to make trouble. She pretended not to recognize him, keeping her eyes lowered and standing respectfully.

Chancellor Li said with a chuckle, “A’Luo, the young prince saw you playing the flute at the Mid-Autumn banquet. He praised your melodious playing and considerable skill, and admires you greatly. He is also a master flutist himself and would like to invite you to tonight’s banquet, to play flute together under the moon. Go along with him.”

Such nonsense! A’Luo cursed inwardly, but replied gently, “Let me go back and get ready.” She bowed and hastily took her leave.

Chancellor Li and Liu Jue exchanged a knowing smile.

Once outside the Chancellor’s residence, A’Luo lifted the sedan chair curtain and asked Liu Jue, “Where are you taking me?”

Liu Jue, riding on horseback, said with mock confusion, “The banquet—to play flute and compare skills.”

A’Luo felt exasperated—things couldn’t possibly be that simple.

The sedan chair swayed as it was carried along, and A’Luo felt increasingly nauseated from the jostling. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, closing her eyes and imagining hot pot, spicy fish, mapo tofu, sour and spicy noodles… anything flavorful, and then began imagining the restaurant she and Zili were running together, packed with guests every day, silver flowing into their pockets like water, imagining the customs of various kingdoms she’d read about in books, herself traveling with her seventh madam and Xiao Yu to see the sights. She tried her best to distract herself. But the sedan chair seemed like it would never stop. A’Luo shouted, “Stop the chair, stop! I need to throw up!”

The moment the chair stopped, A’Luo went to the side and vomited. Liu Jue, on horseback, said angrily, “We still have nearly an hour’s journey to the dining place. How are you all carrying this chair?” He had deliberately made the chair bearers take a roundabout, jostling route, just waiting to see A’Luo make a fool of herself and beg for mercy.

Having finished vomiting, A’Luo felt much better. She glanced up at Liu Jue’s expression. His face showed anger directed at the chair bearers, but there was a hint of smugness in his eyes—she knew he’d done it deliberately. Hearing there was still an hour to go, A’Luo decided to be stubborn—if he wanted to watch her suffer from motion sickness, she’d let him watch to his heart’s content, even if it meant vomiting the whole way there.

A’Luo calmly settled back into the sedan chair. “Let’s go. It wouldn’t do to delay the young prince’s dinner.”

Liu Jue was taken aback, noticing the chair bearers’ faces showing reluctance. Angered, he whipped his horse and rode off. “We’ll meet at the Fragrant Flow Pleasure Boat by the Duning River.”

Once Liu Jue had gone, the sedan chair suddenly became smooth and steady, and in less than fifteen minutes they’d exited the south gate and arrived at the Duning riverbank.

The Duning River was over thirty zhang wide, its surging waters flowing eastward. The evening breeze blew along the riverbank, and the sky at the horizon was tinged faintly with purple mist. A’Luo couldn’t help but think of the poetic lines about smoke and light coalescing as mountains turn purple at dusk, sunset glow flying alongside a lone wild duck, autumn waters merging with the vast sky in one color. In the modern world, unpolluted rivers like this could only be found deep in the mountains. Her desire to travel this otherworldly realm grew even stronger.

Along one side of the riverbank, more than a dozen pleasure boats were scattered and moored. In the evening haze, colorful lanterns had already been lit. The Fragrant Flow Pleasure Boat had three stories, with carved beams and painted rafters, exquisitely furnished. A maidservant led A’Luo up to the top floor, where Liu Jue stood with hands behind his back behind a pearl curtain, by a carved lattice window in the inner chamber.

A’Luo looked around. The outer room was furnished with brocade stools and low tables, hung with paintings and calligraphy by famous artists, and decorated with various flowers. Behind the pearl curtain stood a large round table, with a daybed and armchairs to the side. The space was spacious. The window was open, and the river breeze blew in, filling the room with coolness.

Liu Jue’s robes fluttered, a few strands of hair dancing in the breeze, the lines of his profile sharp and handsome. A’Luo thought it best to try to explain herself. Speaking through the pearl curtain, she said, “That day when Prince Ning came to the house to deliver the imperial edict, it truly wasn’t intentional to break our appointment. I still wanted to say I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

Liu Jue turned his head and picked up a cup of tea, not drinking it, slowly turning it in his hands, and suddenly smiled. “Do you know why I came to your residence today?”

A’Luo said, “Actually, I was planning to go to your estate today to explain. Last time at the Peach Blossom Banquet, it was my fault—I shouldn’t have knocked you out. It’s just that it was my first time out of the residence, and having finally seen such beautiful scenery, only to be disturbed by you, I felt upset. I’ll say sorry again.”

Seeing A’Luo’s sincere attitude, Liu Jue couldn’t help but smile. “That matter is settled. But, you did rob me of my silver…”

A’Luo’s face reddened, and she lowered her head to answer, “I’ll return it to you.”

Liu Jue thought to himself that he didn’t actually care about that small amount of silver. A’Luo kept apologizing, and he really shouldn’t have any more grievance with her, yet something still felt off. “Is saying sorry enough to settle it?”

A’Luo thought, I’ve already apologized, what more does he want? She asked Liu Jue, “Then what do you want?”

Liu Jue was momentarily at a loss—indeed, what did he want? Thinking of how affectionate A’Luo and Liu Fei seemed together, an inexplicable anger rose in him. “You’re on such good terms with the Fourth Prince—what can I do about that?”

A’Luo was startled. “That Fourth Prince?” Suddenly understanding, she thought—Liu Jue meant Zili? She asked, “Zili? Chen Zili? Is that Liu Fei?”

“Do you really not know, or are you pretending not to know? Seeing how well you two already know each other—the shopkeeper at Qianfeng Tower said you personally cooked for him in the kitchen—how intimate!”

A’Luo asked him urgently, “He told me his name was Chen Zili—isn’t the Fourth Prince named Liu Fei?”

Liu Jue smiled coldly. “The late Empress’s surname was Chen. Zili is his courtesy name. Chen Zili is Liu Fei, Liu Fei is Chen Zili. For him to let you call him Zili shows your relationship is far from ordinary.”

A’Luo opened her mouth, not knowing what to say. She’d used a false name when she first met Zili too—Zili not wanting others to know his identity, whether he used his mother’s surname or his true name, wasn’t a big deal. She’d taken a Fourth Prince as an elder brother—nothing wrong with that either. She didn’t think of herself as a noble daughter of the Chancellor’s household, but others hearing of it would think her status all the more distinguished.

Liu Jue changed the subject, no longer mentioning Zili, and said with a smile, “I’ve heard the third young lady’s flute skills are exceptional. Would you play a piece?”

A’Luo pulled aside the pearl curtain and walked in, going to the table and pouring herself a cup of tea to drink. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat first. Do you actually want to hear music, or did you just invite me out to torment me?”

Liu Jue said mockingly, “Look at yourself—does that look like the manner of a Chancellor’s daughter, a young lady of good family?”

A’Luo glared at him. “You jostled me in that sedan chair for over an hour. My stomach’s empty from vomiting, and I’m thirsty and hungry. Where would I find the leisure or energy to play the flute?”

Liu Jue chuckled and clapped his hands. Maidservants filed in one after another, and soon various dishes were brought to the table. A’Luo wondered what the food here would taste like. She said to Liu Jue, “Shall we begin?” and picked up her chopsticks and began eating. She found the flavors quite good, but the few vegetable dishes were lacking. She then understood—Feng City’s cuisine was rich in color, aroma, and flavor, but not refined when it came to vegetable dishes, no wonder even a plate of plain boiled tofu at Qianfeng Tower could be praised as “Three Perfections.” She thought to herself that in Feng City, perhaps only vegetable dishes could truly stand out. Her chopsticks kept reaching for the meat and fish dishes, which made Liu Jue frown. “Haven’t you eaten meat at the Chancellor’s residence?”

A’Luo, eating happily, said casually, “Usually it’s all made in the small kitchen at Tangyuan Courtyard, mostly simple dishes. I haven’t eaten food this good in years.”

Liu Jue felt a pang of sympathy. “Is Chancellor Li really that frugal?”

A’Luo smiled. “My beautiful mother, though lovely, isn’t favored. At Tangyuan Courtyard, she can only live out her days in quiet obscurity.”

Liu Jue said mockingly, “And yet you’re still so arrogant? A concubine-born, unfavored woman meeting someone like this young prince ought to be all the more attentive—oh right, just like how you treat the Fourth Prince.”

A’Luo grew furious. Suppressing her anger, she slowly put down her chopsticks. “Once we’ve finished dinner, I wonder if the young prince, having heard the flute piece, would then send this humble girl home?”

Seeing A’Luo’s expression calm, her eyes shifting brightly in the lamplight, her small face partially hidden by her bangs yet appearing all the more lively, Liu Jue couldn’t quite see through what she was thinking. His mind was already made up. Turning his wine cup in his hand, he said, “The outer room is the place for performances.” His words already treated A’Luo as an entertainer aboard the boat.

A’Luo thought—if it were another ancient-era young lady hearing Liu Jue’s words, she might feel so humiliated she’d throw herself into the river! Even if she didn’t die, she’d surely glare at him and scold him! She walked to the outer room, found a stool, and sat down, thinking, the angrier you try to make me, the happier I’ll act. She picked up her flute and played a lively tune called “Joyful.”