Over the next few days, Li Jingyun was astonished to find that Yin Huayue no longer argued with him, nor did anything go wrong again. Morning and midday meals, changing his clothes, seeing to his tea — she handled everything meticulously, without a single flaw.

When he said he wanted to go out, she prepared the carriage. When he said he was receiving guests, she prepared tea and refreshments, then took the servants and withdrew far away.

Inexplicably, Li Jingyun felt something was off.

At bedtime, he grabbed her, looked up at her lowered eyelids, and asked in a low voice, “Where are you going?”

“Reporting to young master,” Huayue said respectfully. “This servant is going to sleep on the small couch beside us. It’s already been prepared.”

“Why?” he frowned, mildly annoyed. “You never said anything before about changing where you sleep.”

Huayue smiled gently, patiently explaining to him, “The weather’s turned hot, and this servant crowding young master while sleeping would be uncomfortable for you. Besides, sleeping on the bed or on the small couch makes no difference — to outsiders, it all looks the same as sleeping together.”

Her manner was so utterly sincere that anything more he said would sound like he was just picking a fight.

Li Jingyun felt unsettled but seemed to have no way to argue. His hand was gently pulled away by her, and he watched sideways as she gathered a quilt and made up the small couch, then blew out the candle on the table.

The room went dark, and the two of them each lay down.

Li Jingyun stared at the bed curtains for a good while, then suddenly spoke. “Tomorrow is the Fifth Prince’s birthday. The Crown Prince is hosting a banquet for him outside the palace. You’ll come with me.”

The Fifth Prince, Zhou Hemin, had an uncle who was the current Chancellor, but his birth mother was locked away in the cold palace. His Majesty didn’t favor him much, but the Crown Prince had grown quite close to him recently over the matter of abolishing the Administrative Bureau, and was even personally arranging the birthday banquet.

Huayue’s eyes were half-closed, moonlight pouring in through the window and pooling in them, bright and deep. She seemed to drift off for a moment, then softly agreed, “Yes.”

Turning to face outward, Li Jingyun looked at the shadowy shape on the small couch. “You don’t want to talk to me?”

“You worry too much, young master.” Her voice carried a faint trace of amusement. “Whatever young master wants to ask, this servant will answer. Where does ‘not wanting to talk to you’ even come from?”

“Then why do you—” He wanted to say that she’d been cold these past two days, but thinking it over carefully, she’d been doing exactly what she should every day, hadn’t been avoiding him, hadn’t deliberately refused to speak with him either.

He swallowed the words back, privately grumbling to himself about how he too had become sensitive and suspicious. This business of feeling like others were being cold to you — that was the kind of drama Han Shuang liked to play. He was a grown man; he had no need for it.

“Forget it. Sleep.” Li Jingyun rolled over and closed his eyes, thinking that tomorrow he’d take her to see the world a little — once she was happy, maybe she’d go back to normal.

The room settled back into silence. Huayue turned over too, looking at the flower-shadows the moonlight cast on the windowsill.

Flickering, bright then dim — it looked just like the pattern along the hem of a four-clawed cloud dragon robe.

The Fifth Prince’s birthday banquet was held at a secluded estate in the capital. Those attending were all powerful nobles and young masters and misses of the court. To show his closeness to his brother, the Crown Prince deliberately wore his own four-clawed cloud dragon robe and personally stood in the courtyard greeting guests.

“Jingyun, you’ve come at just the right time.” Seeing them from a distance, Zhou Heshuo waved. “I need to go to the back hall for a moment. Come look after these gentlemen for me.”

His words carried a deeper meaning — in just a few phrases he’d classified Li Jingyun as “one of his own.” The nobles present all smiled at this. Li Jingyun didn’t refuse, only turned to her and said, “Go have tea in the flower hall.”

At an occasion like this, it wouldn’t do to have a woman standing beside him. Huayue obediently agreed and followed the servants toward the flower hall.

The flower hall was filled with wives and young ladies. Most who came to a banquet like this wore proper reds and kingfisher-blue jade, and the moment Yin Huayue walked in wearing her consort-red silk skirt, she drew attention from every direction.

Evidently no one had expected anyone to bring a concubine to a place like this. Several wives pressed handkerchiefs to the corners of their mouths, expressions unreadable, while a few more outspoken young ladies laughed outright.

“Whose is this one?” someone pointed and asked the person beside her. “Did she come to the wrong place?”

A wave of unexplained laughter rippled through the hall. Lady Han looked at her, eyes cold as ice. “Better not speak carelessly — this is the Li family’s third young master’s little favorite. For her sake, he even called off his engagement. She’s only wearing colored silk for now — once she’s raised to proper wife, what dress could she not wear?”

Several close friends among the wives heard this and grew indignant. “And here I thought she’d be some heavenly beauty — nothing special after all. The third young master is fine in every way, it’s just his taste in women that leaves something to be desired.”

“Exactly, look how unrefined she is, not the least bit presentable — nowhere near as cultured and well-mannered as ladies from proper families.”

Once the tide turned, the hall broke into a chorus of mockery. Everyone there depended on sticking together, and no one wanted to say too little and be singled out, so once it started they grew even more reckless — words like fox-spirit and shameless hussy who threw herself at him were all thrown out.

While they spoke, they kept glancing at the face of the woman by the door, wanting to see her reaction.

Instead, she looked as if she hadn’t heard a word. She took the tea a servant handed her and sipped it, her eyes calm and untroubled as she looked at them — as if she hadn’t heard enough — and lifted her chin slightly as if inviting them to continue.

“…” Lady Han choked, glaring at her with poisonous eyes. The wives beside her frowned in unison.

The hall gradually fell silent. Huayue found it rather funny; she set down her teacup, about to ask why they’d stopped, when someone suddenly emerged from the crowd and pulled her outside.

Her instinct was to break free, but this person’s hand was soft and gentle, giving her fingers a light squeeze.

Huayue froze, looked up, and saw an unusually serene face.

“Come with me,” the woman said with a smile. “I won’t hurt you.”

Perhaps because the woman’s presence felt so genuinely kind, Huayue gave up resisting and followed her all the way around to a small garden.

The garden was finely built, with rockeries and cascading water, birdsong and fragrant flowers. The lady before her sat by a rockery and smiled at her — her features weren’t as fine as the other wives’, but she carried a certain reassuring charm all her own.

“I’m the young mistress of the Xu family,” she said, her voice soft as fine silk, her almond eyes looking up full of goodwill. “Changyi has mentioned you to me.”

Xu Changyi’s wife?

Huayue blinked, a scene flashing rapidly through her mind.

—I haven’t seen much of the world, not like you two gentlemen, with a beautiful, virtuous wife at home. Used to such beauty, naturally it’s hard for you to be impressed.

—Third brother, we’re all friends here, no need to stab a man in the heart. Does my wife have any beauty to speak of?

Xu Changyi’s pained expression at the time had surely been about the very woman sitting before her now.

Huayue offered her greetings, thinking that young master Xu didn’t know how good he had it — his wife might not be a legendary beauty, but she certainly wasn’t without charm.

“Don’t take it to heart.” Mingshu helped her up, gently patting her back. “The people in that room never have anything kind to say — they just can’t stand to see you favored.”

Grateful, Huayue looked at her and nodded. “Thank you, my lady.”

“No need to call me ‘my lady’ either,” she smiled. “Just call me Mingshu. What should I call you?”

“Yin Huayue.”

“Then I’ll call you Huayue.” She reached into her sleeve and pulled out a piece of peanut candy, placing it in her hand. “This is my favorite — the wet nurse at our estate makes it. Try it?”

Her mood inexplicably lifted. Huayue took it and bit down, smiling at her. “It’s good.”

Seeing her finally smile, Mingshu let out a relieved breath, saying warmly, “It’s such lovely weather today. It’d be a shame to waste this spring sunshine feeling gloomy. You’re pretty — you look even better when you smile.”

She said this while squinting up at the sunlight through the treetops, the corners of her eyes crinkling faintly.

Only then did Huayue notice that she seemed somewhat older than young master Xu. Most wives in other families were three or four years younger than their husbands, looking fresh and youthful, but she seemed to have already passed twenty, the innocence of girlhood gone from between her brows.

“Lady Xu.” Someone called from a distance.

Mingshu came back to herself and stood with a smile. “I’ll go see.”

Huayue nodded, stepping aside to let her pass.

The half piece of peanut candy in her mouth was spit back out. Huayue looked down at what remained in her hand, feeling it a shame to waste it. She was guarded by nature and wouldn’t casually eat anything from others, but Mingshu was a good person, without any ill intent.

After a moment’s thought, Huayue took out a handkerchief, wrapped the candy carefully, and tucked it into her robe.

“You’re something else.” A voice suddenly came from behind the rockery, clear and bright as wind blowing into one’s arms. “If you didn’t want to eat it, you should’ve just thrown the whole thing away. Why eat half and hide half?”

Huayue jumped, startled, and stepped back warily to look. “Who’s there?”

A robe of moonlit white embroidered with mountains and rivers swept out, and a youth with red lips and white teeth looked at her, his brows full of curiosity.

This courtyard was full of nobles, and someone appearing so suddenly — Huayue had no idea of his status. The best course was to leave, as if nothing had happened.

However, the moment she lifted her foot, the youth seemed to already know what she was thinking. He stepped sideways to block her path, bending down to look at her seriously. “Hiding from what?”

Taking a deep breath, Huayue spoke obediently. “This lowly girl pays her respects to the noble one. I have some pressing business — might I trouble you to step aside?”

The youth raised his eyebrows, clearly unimpressed by her excuse, but he was well-mannered and stepped back to clear her a path.

Huayue put her head down and walked.

There were people chatting all through the garden. After walking for a while, she finally found an empty pavilion and sat down. No sooner had she settled than someone sat down right beside her.

“Your pressing business is just sitting here?” The youth looked her up and down. “Not going to socialize?”

Huayue sighed softly, looking at him with confusion. “There are so many people here — why would the noble one want to trouble himself with me?”

The youth laughed at that, waving his hand. “I’m not troubling you at all — I just got bored of looking at all those walking corpses in the courtyard, and I find you rather interesting.”

Interesting? Huayue frowned, thinking this person looked proper enough — how had his head gone so wrong? She barely knew him at all; what could possibly be interesting about her?

“Why do you still use the surname Yin?” The youth tilted his head, studying her. “Not thinking of changing it?”

Yin was the surname of the previous dynasty — from imperial relatives down to common folk, the Yin clan had once been numerous and thriving. But after the fall of the Great Wei, most of those still eking out a living among the nobility had changed their surnames to avoid suspicion. That she could now openly call herself a Yin was perhaps unique to her alone.

Huayue answered casually. “It’s the surname my parents gave me. It wouldn’t do to just change it on a whim.”

“Then why don’t people like you?” His gaze fell on her consort-colored skirt. “Is it because you’re a concubine? But wouldn’t a concubine coming to a place like this only make it look like she’s more favored?”

A vein twitched at her temple. She gritted her back teeth and said, “Since the noble one already knows this lowly girl is another man’s concubine, why doesn’t he mind his manners? What man converses so freely with a woman of the inner chambers?”

The youth froze, then let out a bewildered “Ah,” and laughed. “I’ve always done as I please. No one’s ever managed me.”

His self-righteousness was enough to make anyone flush with secondhand embarrassment.

Huayue found herself laughing despite it all — there was no escaping him either way, so she simply told him, “I’m a shameless servant who ruined her master’s good match and crawled into her master’s bed in the middle of the night, rising above her station. How could conduct like that ever earn people’s favor? The noble one had best keep his distance — if someone were to see us together, I might just drag you down with me into the pig cage.”

Startled by this response, the youth’s jaw dropped, his handsome eyes going wide and round, like two quail eggs.

Unable to hold it in, Huayue genuinely laughed aloud, laughing until her eyes crinkled and her shoulders shook.

Zhou Hemin had truly never met a young woman like this. When angry, her fine brows would stand on end, impatience practically carved onto her face — but the moment she smiled, it was like all the stars in the sky had gathered in her eyes, bright and sparkling, lively and endearing.

Inexplicably, he found himself laughing along with her, two small pointed canine teeth showing.

Seeing him laugh only made her laugh harder, and between laughs she scolded him, “What are you laughing at!”

He laughed back, “Then what are you laughing at?”

Wasn’t he just a fool? Huayue laughed until she couldn’t catch her breath, shaking her head. She’d thought that someone as shrewd as Zhou Heshuo would only invite clever guests — she hadn’t expected there to be a fool mixed in among all those clever people.

The two of them laughed together for what felt like the time it took three sticks of incense to burn.

After that, someone approached from that direction. The youth glanced over, then, with an almost strangled laugh, leapt over the wall. Huayue remained where she was, pressing a hand to her stomach, feeling like her face was about to freeze from smiling.

“My lady.” Several servants approached anxiously. “Have you seen someone wearing a moonlight-white robe?”

Pressing a hand to her chest and taking two calming breaths, Huayue stopped smiling. She pointed mercilessly in the direction the youth had disappeared. “I saw him — he just climbed over there. If you two flank him from both sides and move quickly, you’re bound to catch him.”

The servants thanked her gratefully and rushed off to encircle him.

The deeply hidden Steward Yin gracefully smoothed her skirts, slowly suppressing the flush of laughter on her face, then returned to the flower hall right on schedule.

When Li Jingyun finished speaking with someone and turned around, he spotted a familiar head tucked behind a hallway pillar.

He smiled faintly, walked over, and flicked her forehead. “Didn’t I tell you to go to the flower hall? Why’d you end up here again?”

A sting shot through her forehead. Huayue stepped back half a pace and bowed respectfully at the knee. “Reporting to young master, this servant came looking for Lady Mingshu.”

“Mingshu?” Li Jingyun thought for a moment, then understood. “Changyi’s proper wife. What did you need her for?”

“Reporting to young master, in this whole courtyard, she’s the only one this servant could talk to.”

His eyes flickered, his lips pressing together with displeasure. “Someone’s been giving you trouble?”

“Reporting to young master, no.” She shook her head gently. “With young master’s protection, no one would dare do anything to this servant.”

He waved his hand impatiently. “Can you say anything without it being such an effort? Reporting this, reporting that — how you used to talk back at me, have you forgotten all that already?”

Tilting her head, thinking it over briefly, Huayue smiled softly. “Reporting to young master, that kind of behavior was far too presumptuous — of course it needed correcting.”

He slumped, defeated. “This one isn’t holding it against you. You don’t need to keep up this act with me either. Let’s go back to how it was up on Guan Mountain — how about that?”

Huayue looked at him, not quite understanding.

Li Jingyun pulled her into an empty corner and, leaning his forehead against hers, said in a low voice, “This one dotes on you — don’t go stabbing at his heart. After this banquet’s over, this one will buy you pastries from Jing’an Hall. How’s that?”

Outside, the din of voices rose, but this little corner was unusually quiet, quiet enough that he could clearly hear her heartbeat, beat after beat, as if it were pulsing right in his arms.

Li Jingyun’s heart softened. He pinched the back of her hand and pressed a kiss to it, chuckling softly. “If you don’t speak, I’ll take that as a yes.”

Speaking felt wrong, and staying silent felt wrong too. Huayue simply stayed quiet, letting him half-embrace her.

It had to be said — the third young master really did have a way with coaxing people. No matter how much nonsense he’d spouted, all it took was lowering his guard and speaking a few gentle words, and what ordinary young lady wouldn’t immediately melt into his arms in tears over some grievance?

Huayue wanted to try being an ordinary young lady too, but this time, she couldn’t cry — even pinching her own thigh didn’t help.

Fortunately, someone came looking for him from outside before long. “Third young master? Where are you, third young master?”

Li Jingyun released her, cursed softly under his breath, then said, “Go find Mingshu. This one will feel more at ease with you there with her.”

“Yes.” Huayue agreed, watching him disappear around the stone wall.

It wasn’t yet time for the meal, and everywhere people were drinking tea. Just the courtyard on the west side alone required two pots of tea; the servants delivering tea were rushed off their feet, several silver pots piled up by the courtyard entrance, two maids ceaselessly brewing fresh tea to pour inside.

Huayue passed by and asked with a smile, “Have you seen Lady Mingshu?”

The two maids, not even looking up, said, “Haven’t seen her.”

Nodding in understanding, Huayue continued on her search. Her sleeve brushed against an open silver pot, stirring up a faint breeze.

A servant delivering tea rushed over, scooped up the freshly filled pot, and hurried toward the west courtyard.

Han Tianyong was in the west courtyard discussing matters with the Crown Prince’s retainer Situ Feng. The two men stood on different sides but shared some rapport, and so they could still sit and share a pot of tea.

“Xue Ji is gone. Someone needs to be promoted to Captain of the Imperial Guard,” Han Tianyong said. “Who’s more suited for the post than me?”

Situ Feng laughed outright. “Tianyong, are you really this dense, or just pretending? A post like Captain of the Imperial Guard — do you think the Crown Prince would ever give it to a Han?”

“Han Shuang and I aren’t the same kind of person.”

“But you both share the surname Han, and you both receive the Grand Princess’s New Year gifts.” Situ Feng poured him tea with a smile, shaking his head. “Give it up. Right now the Crown Prince and the Grand Princess are locked in a life-and-death struggle. The fact that the Crown Prince hasn’t already driven you out of the Imperial Guard camp is already showing the Han family plenty of face.”

Han Tianyong unwillingly raised his cup, toasting him, and the two drank together.

When the birthday banquet officially began, Huayue accompanied Mingshu for the meal in the southern courtyard. After Mingshu had a couple sips of wine, she grew talkative.

“When Changyi mentioned you to me, he said the third young master dotes on you terribly.” She held Huayue’s hand, her eyes bright with envy. “How exactly does he dote on you?”

Huayue felt a bit awkward. “How else — he just gives me money.”

Envy shone in her eyes. Mingshu clicked her tongue twice, then took another half cup of wine.

“Does young master Xu not treat you well?” Following the principle of courtesy, Huayue asked her the same in return.

Mingshu smiled with satisfaction. “He… treats me well too.”

The three of them sat at one long table, with Huayue in the middle. She hadn’t yet gotten around to complimenting Xu Changyi when the person sitting on the other side spoke up. “Well how, exactly?”

Startled, Huayue turned and saw a young married woman wearing a red robe with black trim, brows sharp as blades, lips deep crimson.

The woman looked past her at Mingshu and said, none too gently, “Over a month without sharing a bed and you still call that ‘good’? Give it a bit more time and he’ll divorce you, and you’ll still be presenting him with a plaque reading ‘Boundless Gratitude’ to hang in the Xu family ancestral hall.”

Huayue was stunned by this blunt, sharp-tongued outburst, momentarily forgetting to look away.

The young woman glanced over at her, pressing her crimson lips together. “I’m the proper wife of the Liu family. Mingshu and I are also fairly close — don’t misunderstand.”

Liu family… Liu Chenghe’s wife? Huayue nodded a greeting, thinking this temperament was rather amusing.

Mingshu was already a bit drunk and didn’t argue back, only smiled and pulled Huayue’s hand to introduce her. “This is Chaofeng. She never spares anyone’s feelings when she talks — don’t let her catch you off guard.”

Chaofeng looked at her state with plain disdain and waved a maid over to help her off to rest.

Huayue wanted to help too, but Chaofeng caught her arm. “Just let her go rest on her own.”

“Have Lady Chaofeng and Lady Mingshu known each other long?” Huayue couldn’t help but ask.

Chaofeng waved a hand. “Just call me by my given name — adding ‘lady’ is exhausting to listen to.”

She paused, then added, “We’re sworn sisters. That woman grew up alongside Xu Changyi since childhood. He said at five years old he’d marry her, but in the end, he dragged it out until she’d already passed twenty, practically an old maid, before reluctantly carrying her through the door.”

Huayue was stunned.

Whether in Great Wei or Great Liang, girls generally married at sixteen; if a girl was still unmarried at nineteen, people would start gossiping. To have married past twenty — how much had Mingshu suffered through?

“She…” Huayue glanced around, then lowered her voice. “Why didn’t she just find another family to marry into?”

Chaofeng paused, a flash of admiration appearing in her eyes as she looked at Huayue, though it was quickly overtaken by exasperation toward Mingshu. “She’s stubbornly devoted. Someone gave her a piece of peanut candy when she was young, and she remembered it for fifteen years. Back then the Xu family hadn’t even risen yet — they couldn’t even compare to her own family’s standing. Later, once he made it big, I never saw him show much gratitude for it either.”

Huayue listened with a sigh, shaking her head gently.

Chaofeng took her hand. “I can tell you’re a sharp, clear-headed person, so I’ll say this plainly — every single one of them, without exception, isn’t worth much. While you’re young, give the third young master a child, then live out your days in comfort and luxury. As for love and affection — don’t even think about it.”

She hadn’t been thinking about it anyway.

Huayue lowered her eyes, glancing briefly at the sky, then at the courtyard gate.

Servants bustled back and forth everywhere. Even if a few more people were added to the mix, no one would notice.

Drawing her gaze back, she smiled and answered Chaofeng. “I understand.”

Chaofeng nodded, satisfied, about to say more, when suddenly from somewhere outside came a sharp cracking sound, followed by the piercing scream of a servant, echoing through half the estate.