◎ A Meeting ◎

The two of them had just reached the side garden where the male guests were gathered when they suddenly heard a melodious tune drift over. Qu You found it somewhat familiar and remarked, “That’s a lovely piece—sounds like a moon lute.”

Gao Yunyue said wistfully, “Sharp ears you have. Today’s banquet, Father invited Chun Niangzi from the Chunfenghualiu Tower to play for the guests. Who else could play the moon lute so beautifully besides her?”

“Chun Niangzi came too?” Qu You said, delighted. “If there’s time, I’d love to go see her.”

“You’re close with her?”

“Of course—Chun Niangzi is a good friend of mine.”

Gao Yunyue looked at her in surprise, seeming as if she wanted to say something but held back, and finally only said, “Is this from the bond you made when you beat the drum on the Imperial Street? You… can really call them your friends, just like that?”

Qu You sighed, realizing her own behavior must seem rather ahead of its time to someone like Gao Yunyue, raised within a feudal official family. “Do you think… it demeans my standing?”

To her surprise, Gao Yunyue gently shook her head.

“It seems you really have forgotten a great deal. Before, it was actually me who said I wanted to befriend Chun Niangzi, and you hesitated again and again, too afraid to go.”

“Back then I was reading haphazardly, and came across a passage in the Tang-era Record of the Northern Ward that left a particularly deep impression on me.”

“‘These girls are raised as beggars from childhood, or hired out by poor families in the lower wards; there are often unscrupulous men who prey upon them in secret, and there are also cases of good families’ daughters being betrothed into such houses, traded on for a heavier price. Once ensnared, there is no escape. First they are taught songs, and pressed most urgently to learn; the slightest sign of reluctance or laziness brings the whip and the cane upon them’… I couldn’t bear to even imagine such a fate.”

Gao Yunyue smiled bitterly. “Who would willingly fall into that life? Some are dragged in by a relative’s crime, some sell themselves to support their family, some are sold by their own kin, some are disfigured or met with the wrong man, some even seek revenge for old wrongs. There have been many remarkable women forced into circumstances beyond their control—even in the previous dynasty there was Lady Xiangzhui, who carried army provisions a thousand miles. I don’t think what you did was shameful at all.”

Qu You studied her closely, thinking—a thousand years ago, besides Zhou Tan, there had apparently been people like this too.

Even if it was only to sigh, on their behalf, that it was never a choice they’d made willingly.

“I’ll lend you the book—it sounds like you can’t find your own copy anymore,” Gao Yunyue said, seeing her fall silent. “I never expected you’d go and befriend Chun Niangzi before me. I’ll have a maid fetch her over in a bit—introduce me, won’t you?”

Qu You agreed, smiling.

The two returned to the banquet. Gao Yunyue’s original seat had been beside her mother, but she chose to sit with Qu You at the far end instead. Madam Gao, helpless, let it be. After the chrysanthemum banquet, the women were led in twos and threes into the pavilions and gardens to listen to music and admire the flowers.

Gao Yunyue led Qu You to the best seat available, pouring chrysanthemum wine as she answered her questions. “That one? That’s Princess Jiafu—just got engaged, marrying young General Qi. She’s given you trouble before, best not to talk to her much… The one who just came in is the second daughter of the Ning family, in talks to marry my elder brother. He insists on taking the military examinations, which has nearly driven my father mad with worry. It’s a shame, really—he once asked me in secret what foods you liked, and I thought I’d finally get to benefit from that…”

“Ah, and beside my mother is the Grand Princess of Pingxi. The demure one next to her is the Crown Princess, Lady Li. The Crown Prince came today too—he must be with the male guests now, chatting with my father and your husband…”

Qu You had finally sorted everyone out. Fortunately, she was reasonably well-versed in the nobility and official system of Northern Yin, or she’d have been completely lost. She lifted her cup and took a small sip of chrysanthemum wine, just as Gao Yunyue paused. “That one… is Lianxi’s mother.”

She set down her wine cup and followed Gao Yunyue’s gaze.

Madam Liu was a shrewd, capable woman; her husband had risen through the imperial examinations to become a Court Attendant, on the same rank as Qu You’s father. But Qu Cheng came from a family of scholars, and had held some standing even in poorer times, whereas Lord Liu had come from a remote, impoverished village, and Madam Liu was the wife he’d married while still there—she stood out somewhat awkwardly among the noblewomen of the capital.

While the others mostly moved about in pairs or small groups, Madam Liu had no companion at all. She sat coldly in the hall, drank a cup of chrysanthemum wine, then simply sat in her chair, staring blankly into space.

Gao Yunyue shook her head. “Lianxi and I used to be close, so my mother often sent Madam Liu invitations. Madam Liu is shrewd and careful—every word, every action deliberate, terrified of showing weakness that might damage Lord Liu’s reputation… For someone like that to go and make such a scene at the Ministry of Justice, even I was startled to hear of it. Given how entangled she is in this case, Mother hesitated for a long time before sending this invitation—I honestly thought she wouldn’t come today.”

“A white-haired mother burying her black-haired child—the bitterness of it is beyond words…” Qu You said, and together with Gao Yunyue went to greet her. “Madam, are you well?”

Madam Liu looked at the two of them blankly at first, but her gaze caught on Qu You, and recognition dawned. She rose from her chair, a little agitated, lips trembling. “L-Lady Zhou?”

Heedless of propriety, she seized Qu You’s hand. “Lianxi was close with you both once. I heard… you’re now the wife of Vice Minister Zhou of the Ministry of Justice. You must, you must clear my daughter’s name!”

Seeing her state, Gao Yunyue glanced around and quickly led everyone into a side chamber at the back of the hall, closing the door behind them.

Qu You felt the woman’s tears falling one by one onto the back of her hand, and took out a handkerchief to wipe them away. “Aunt, why are you so certain the Capital Prefecture’s verdict was wrong?”

She asked directly. Gao Yunyue glanced at her.

An expression of intense, barely suppressed hatred suddenly crossed Madam Liu’s face. She forced her teeth together and said bitterly, “Lianxi was deceived by that Du Gaojun’s sweet talk back then—it was only after she married into his family that his true nature came out! He was already infamous across the capital as a philanderer, but my poor daughter truly believed she’d won that wastrel’s genuine affection. Not five days after the wedding, that Du Gaojun already wanted to bring her maid into his bed…”

“Lianxi refused, and Du Gaojun actually struck her. From then on it was nothing but beatings and curses. Half a year ago, she couldn’t bear it any longer and finally told me everything…” Guilt and regret gradually surfaced on Madam Liu’s face. “But I—I was worried about her father’s career, worried about the family’s standing, and I only made her endure it again and again. I never imagined… it was I who caused my own daughter’s death!”

“The Capital Prefecture says the guard was stealing in the middle of the night and Lianxi caught him. Setting aside why there was no maid present—she’d disciplined herself carefully since childhood, and every night without fail would retire to sleep by the second watch. How could she have caught a thief in the act at midnight? The petition is riddled with errors, and the Capital Prefecture is clearly covering something up—I wasn’t even allowed to see her body! How am I supposed to believe any of it!”

“The magistrate of the Capital Prefecture is close friends with Du Gaojun’s father, and the former Chief Justice of the Court of Judicial Review was in league with them too. I had nowhere left to turn, and then I remembered that Lady Zhou was once Lianxi’s old friend, so I decided to try, with everything I had left… My lady, have mercy—give my daughter the justice she deserves!”

As she spoke, she made to kneel. The two of them, startled, hurried to help her up, and only after much coaxing did she finally hold back her tears.

Qu You held her hand and asked a few careful questions, and after a long while finally saw her off. Gao Yunyue left the chamber with her and took a shortcut back toward the main hall.

One side of the long corridor was lined with a railing, behind which grew clusters of roses; the other side was a plain white brick wall, broken here and there by carved flower-lattice windows, through whose gaps sunlight fell in scattered patterns across the women’s faces as they passed.

Gao Yunyue walked slowly, then suddenly said, “You had me point out all these noblewomen and ladies today just so you could find Madam Liu, didn’t you?”

Qu You’s steps faltered slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her mind, but she said nothing.

“You think I can’t tell?” Gao Yunyue was growing irritated again. “If you wanted to talk to her, you should have just said so—why go through such a roundabout way about it? I could’ve just had someone bring her to the side chamber.”

“Don’t be upset,” Qu You coaxed her, helpless. “The Ministry of Justice is also going to take Madam Liu’s testimony tomorrow. I was only worried that out of concern for Lianxi’s reputation, she might not want to say certain things in front of everyone, so I wanted to ask her privately first. You know I’ve… been a bit slow-witted since I fell into the water. Asking you to help me place everyone wasn’t entirely about her, you know.”

“I understand—you were just being careful. Honestly, Qu Yilian, you don’t even trust me!”

Gao Yunyue shot her a sidelong glance, though her expression had already softened. Just as she was about to say more, a warm, smiling voice sounded from behind them. “Miss Gao, what’s the matter?”

Gao Yunyue turned to see Ye Liuchun, cradling her beloved moon lute, offering a graceful bow, her voice gentle. “I heard from my maid—I meant to come find you two after the banquet, but as luck would have it, the feast had just ended when I saw you both passing by the corridor, so I followed. What are you two squabbling about?”

She hadn’t yet removed her hairpins, still in her full ornate dress and makeup, her eyes carrying an effortless allure with every glance. Gao Yunyue stared at her for a moment, stunned, while Qu You trotted over from behind her. “Sister Chun, Miss Gao is very fond of your moon lute and would love to get to know you. I’ve gone and upset her just now—won’t you make it up to me and play her a tune? I owe you one, Sister.”

Gao Yunyue had studied the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting since childhood, with a particular love for poetry and music—she played the guqin exceptionally well herself, though only ever among close friends in private. She had once, by chance, heard Ye Liuchun play a piece at a banquet and had been utterly captivated ever since, longing to make her acquaintance.

She genuinely wanted to hear Ye Liuchun play, but didn’t want to seem too eager, so she said stiffly instead, “Chun Niangzi’s music is worth a fortune a note—even at banquets she only ever plays two pieces. Just how much face do you have, to have someone play just to please me?”

Seeing the two of them bickering, Ye Liuchun covered her mouth and laughed, then lowered her head to remove the brocade cover from her moon lute and handed it to the maid attending her, who took it and withdrew.

“That’s no trouble at all—what matters most is a young lady’s happiness.” She sat down casually beneath the corridor, cradling the lute, then paused and set down the white jade pick in her hand, plucking the strings lightly with her slender fingers instead. “Let me play you something no one has ever heard before. How does that sound?”

“Has Xiaobai’s wound fully healed?”

Song Shiyan held a folding fan, dressed today in ordinary brocade robes, the very picture of a dissolute young noble of a decadent age. “The medicine for my wound was prepared by the palace physicians—I imagine it’s a cut above what’s available outside.”

Zhou Tan responded with great deference. “Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. It’s no trouble at all now.”

Gao Ze was speaking with another official nearby. Song Shiyan brought his gaze back from the people behind him and turned, smiling, to Zhou Tan beside him. “Father sent that Capital Prefecture case to you—you understand what he means by that, don’t you?”

Zhou Tan didn’t answer, only reaching up to smooth his sleeve cuff; the dark green bamboo-leaf pattern set off his figure like slender bamboo itself.

Moments earlier, as the group had passed beneath the pavilion with its hundred pots of autumn chrysanthemums, several women had hidden behind their round fans while stealing glances this way.

“You’re a clever man—you know exactly what to do without me needing to say more.” Song Shiyan tapped a cluster of roses beside him lightly with his fan; the overblown petals scattered and fell. “Lord Zhou, however loyal you show yourself to be, the simple fact that you were once a student under Chancellor Gu is enough. If you wish to be seen as an unquestionably loyal minister, he will never believe it.”

Just as he finished speaking, the sound of music drifted from behind a nearby wall of blue-green tile and white plaster. The two of them walked a few steps along the wall and, through an ornately carved flower-lattice window, saw a few distant silhouettes.

“Well now,” Song Shiyan remarked with interest, “a tune this fine—Chun Niangzi could never have played that at the banquet just now.”

Zhou Tan lowered his narrow eyes, catching, faintly, a familiar voice woven through the melody. He seemed lost in thought and didn’t reply.