Su Jin felt somewhat embarrassed. Lowering his eyes, he looked again at Shu Rongxin in the painting, whose eyes held faint mist, and said softly, “I don’t recall ever having seen her.”

Qian San’er said, “I didn’t manage to get the full story either, but”—he curved his crescent-moon eyes again—”you can ask Shu Wenlan yourself tomorrow.”

Su Jin didn’t understand.

“The seating for the New Year’s banquet is arranged by rank. You and Scholar Shu both hold the fourth grade. I heard that yesterday he dragged his sickly body to the Ministry of Rites and asked Minister Luo to open a back door and place your seat next to his. You know what Minister Luo is like—terrified that if Shu Wenlan became displeased and had an attack at his Ministry of Rites and died, he agreed on the spot.”

After hearing this, Su Jin rolled up the scroll in his hands. “Thank you for your trouble, Lord Qian.”

He actually should have thought of this earlier. As a woman insisting on entering officialdom, sooner or later he would have to face the hurdle of marriage. Having hidden for several days now and troubled Qian San’er, he already felt very apologetic.

So Su Jin stood up and first bowed to Zhao Yan: “Thank you for Lord Zhao’s kind intentions. I’ll go back and think it over myself.” Then he bowed to Qian San’er: “Thank you for your trouble, Lord Qian. In the future, if any officials come to your residence about this subordinate’s marriage matters, please have them come to the Su residence instead. I will explain to them myself.”

Seeing that Su Jin had no interest in this matter, Lords Zhao and Qian found it inconvenient to press for results. The several people clasped hands in mutual greeting, then left the duty chamber.

Su Jin walked last. Looking at the backs of the three people, he softly called out, “Lord Liu.”

On the snow-covered ground, Liu Chaoming heard ice shards crushing beneath his feet.

His eyes moved slightly. Turning back, his expression was already open and untroubled between his brows. He responded faintly, “Mm.”

Su Jin stepped forward and bowed with lowered head: “Just now I forgot to thank Lord Liu. I’ve troubled you to worry about Shiyu. Shiyu…” He paused slightly, suddenly remembering Liu Chaoming’s recent words about “no need to be effusive,” so he cut off the flowery words and directly raised his eyes to ask, “I wanted to ask if Your Lordship has any good solutions?”

She had worked hard for years, her complexion pale, but fortunately sustained by a tenacious spirit, tired yet not weary. These past days she had probably rested well—her cheeks were tinged with a serene, healthy color, and deep in her eyes was a clear, bright light.

Liu Chaoming averted his gaze and asked flatly and calmly, “Over these years, have you ever sent letters to your ancestral home in Qizhou?”

Qizhou wasn’t her ancestral home. Su Jin knew Liu Chaoming was asking about the Su family of Qizhou who had taken her in for half a year.

She shook her head slightly: “I haven’t.”

It wasn’t that she was unwilling. Back then, the Su family members had been very dissatisfied with this foster child of unknown origins, thinking she was an illegitimate child the old master had fathered outside. Old Master Su had always valued his reputation, yet for the sake of his past friendship with Prime Minister Xie, he had actually made do by acknowledging her as his own child under the name of an illegitimate child, registering her household.

During the half year Su Jin stayed at the Su residence, the entire estate was like a pot boiling with rolling water. Several wives and concubines quarreled incessantly every day over her matters, probably fearing this extra young master would take away part of the family property.

Later one day, Su Jin heard them privately call her “bastard.”

Su Jin had inherited her family’s learning from childhood—she could recite at three, compose poetry at five, and never forgot any classics, histories, philosophers, or literary collections she read. Beneath her proud bearing was all brilliant talent. She could endure unbearable treatment herself, but she couldn’t endure others insulting her family.

Su Jin thought, she was no bastard. She was a descendant of Prime Minister Xie, and her grandfather was like the rising sun in her heart.

The next day, Su Jin packed her belongings and took leave of Old Master Su.

This kindhearted old gentleman understood Prime Minister Xie’s nature well and knew Su Jin could not be persuaded to stay. He silently saw her off for five li, pressed a banknote into her hands, and said what seemed heartless but was actually merciful: “You’ve seen what’s happened to my family. Go then, to the ends of the earth. You need not write in the future.”

Liu Chaoming’s voice revealed neither sorrow nor joy: “This winter, Old Master Su passed away.”

Su Jin raised her head in shock, her brows gradually taking on a desolate color. After a moment, she shook her head in self-reproach: “I… didn’t even know.”

Liu Chaoming had originally planned to keep it from her, if not for everything converging at this critical juncture.

He said, “If you truly can’t avoid the officials’ marriage proposals, you can return home for mourning.” After a pause, he couldn’t help adding, “Leave after tomorrow’s New Year’s banquet.”

Hearing these words, Su Jin couldn’t help but think deeply.

The incident at the palace front hall hung like a dark shadow over her heart. That day, Shen Xi had lain in the snow and asked her, “I feel something’s going to happen. Do you believe me?”

Actually, Su Jin wanted to say she believed him, because she had the same unease in her heart.

But like Shen Xi, she couldn’t discern where the source lay.

She hoped she was wrong.

Su Jin pressed her lips together: “There’s no rush for this moment.” She thought for a moment. “I’ll first send a letter. I’ll wait until after spring when all matters are settled before departing.”

Liu Chaoming didn’t know what “all matters settled” meant in her expectations. Su Jin didn’t elaborate further. After taking leave of him, saying she was going to the Hanlin Academy to deliver the courtesy name she had proposed for the Seventeenth Prince, she hurriedly left.

The sky was grayish-blue. Though clearly cloudless, sunlight couldn’t penetrate it. The surrounding snow colors reflected off each other, refracting the human world into a dazzling bright white, like a day of false sunshine full of enthusiasm.

Liu Chaoming’s expression grew bland. A minor official at his side stepped forward and said, “My lord, that eunuch has been waiting for quite some time.”

Liu Chaoming responded with an “Mm”: “Have him come out.”

A moment later, a young eunuch emerged from the side room of the auxiliary courtyard—the very one Liu Chaoming had met in the plum garden after the incident at the palace front hall.

The eunuch, in a black cloak covering his brows and eyes, bowed to Liu Chaoming: “I greet Lord Liu.”

Liu Chaoming said, “You’re skilled in using poison.” He wasn’t asking but stating with certainty.

That day at the palace front hall, even if it was Zhu Lin’s wet nurse who administered the poison, a small child’s body was delicate and changed daily. Without a master guiding from the side, controlling the amount of jujube flower cakes consumed just right, if one wasn’t careful and misjudged the severity, wouldn’t it backfire?

Shen Xi and Su Jin couldn’t figure this out, but Liu Yun, who glimpsed the truth hidden beneath, could understand.

The eunuch said modestly, “This servant only knows a little.”

Liu Chaoming said, “This official needs a dose of medicine. After taking it, the person becomes weary and weak, showing signs of cold invading the bones, with lingering illness that cannot be eliminated without a full month of recuperation. Can you do it?”

The eunuch said, “Does Your Lordship wish to stay out of this matter?”

Liu Chaoming’s eyes suddenly turned cold.

The eunuch’s heart jumped in alarm. Around his neck, he faintly felt the suffocating sensation of being choked that day.

He hastily bowed deeply: “I can, but given the symptoms Your Lordship described, the medicine’s potency must be fierce. If the person is fine one moment and then becomes weak and feeble after taking the medicine, the imperial physicians in the palace are proficient in medicine—they will certainly detect that this was caused by drugs and will suspect Your Lordship.”

Liu Chaoming said, “Just prepare the medicine. Deliver it to this official before sunset. You need not concern yourself with the rest.”

In the middle of the night, wind and snow came again. Even with windows closed indoors, one could hear the howling outside like wild beasts passing through.

Waking the next day, there was genuine fine sunshine. At the hour of the rabbit, the assembled court officials accompanied Emperor Jingyuan to Zhaojue Temple for the heavenly sacrifice. After having a vegetarian meal at noon, they returned, went home to collect their family members, and hurried to the New Year’s banquet.

Actually, Emperor Jingyuan’s birthday was on the twenty-fourth day of the twelfth month. According to past custom, incense should be burned and heaven worshipped on Minor New Year, followed by the Longevity Banquet the next day. After the banquet ended, government would cease, and on New Year’s Day itself, everyone should celebrate in their own residences.

This year, gathering together in one hall, the court officials didn’t mention the reasons on their faces, but they understood in their hearts.

After the Dengwen Drum case at Fengtian Hall, Emperor Jingyuan had gradually neglected government. All important matters were handed over to Zhu Minda to handle, already showing hidden intent to abdicate.

Therefore, this year’s New Year celebration was probably the first and also the last that Zhu Jingyuan, as emperor, would celebrate together with his assembled subjects.

The banquet was held at Qionghua Garden. In the middle was a narrow river, with officials on the left bank and female family members on the right.

The narrow river was called Yao River. An open platform was built on the river surface where musical performances and dances would take place.

When the hour of the rooster arrived, officials and their female family members entered and took their seats in succession.

The feast consisted of small individual tables, with red clay braziers warming beneath each table for heating. Two braziers warmed beneath the table next to Su Jin’s, probably prepared for that sickly person from the Shu family.

Among the various princes, Zhu Jiyou and Zhu Mixiao, who had been confined in the inner palace, also came. It was said His Majesty had shown exceptional grace, wanting his third and fourteenth sons to have a good New Year. They would only be confined again after the winter hunt.

Su Jin had no family members, so he took his seat early. Before long, Shu Wenlan also arrived.

Not long after returning to the capital, Su Jin had seen him once from afar. At that time, Scholar Shu was walking with a group of Hanlin scholars, dressed much more thickly than ordinary people, very tall but thin.

Seeing Su Jin, Shu Wenlan bent and gave him a bow: “Censor Su.”

Su Jin stood and returned the bow: “Scholar Shu.”

Up close, one could smell the medicinal scent on Shu Wenlan. His entire person was wrapped in a thick, windproof fox fur cloak. His appearance was gaunt, his cheekbones very high, though his eyes and brows were handsome.

A moment later, at one end of Qionghua Garden, three people arrived together. Everyone shifted their gaze and seemed to fall silent for an instant.

These three were precisely the Tenth Prince, Thirteenth Prince, and Seventh Prince who currently held temporary leadership of the Court of Imperial Clan.

And just as that audaciously bold doggerel verse in the inner quarters said: “The seventh views the moon, the thirteenth the stars, but none compare to seeking plum blossoms in the winter month.”

These three were also the best-looking among Emperor Jingyuan’s many princes. The Seventh Prince was like the moon, Zhu Nanxian like stars and sun, and “winter month” meant the tenth month—the Tenth Prince Zhu Yiheng loved plum blossoms most.

Since the three led the Court of Imperial Clan, they were just coming over from the other side of Yao River after receiving all the female family members.

Zhu Zhaowei and Zhu Yiheng were both fine, but only Zhu Nanxian’s complexion looked somewhat unpleasant—who knew what had happened.

Su Jin was just thinking about this when a voice beside him said, “I guess it’s related to tomorrow’s winter hunt. In past years during the winter hunt, the various princes competed to see who could hunt the most beasts and fowl. This year, with the Tenth Prince holding the Directorship, he probably came up with some new twist.”

The speaker was none other than Shu Wenlan.

Seeing Su Jin turn his face toward him, he gave her an elegant smile and continued, “It must be related to the female family members on the other bank. What does Censor Su think?”

Su Jin said, “This is my first time celebrating the New Year in the palace. I cannot guess the princes’ thoughts.”

Shu Wenlan, being well-read in poetry and books, spoke with measured pace: “The Seventh Prince’s consort passed away five years ago. The Tenth Prince has yet to take a principal consort. The Thirteenth Prince is even stranger—he only keeps one concubine in his residence, heard to have been picked up from the ransacked residence of Minister Ma. Later when he went to his fief, he didn’t even bring this concubine to Nanchang. Why?”

Su Jin said, “Scholar Shu has asked the wrong person. As subjects and ministers, how dare we inquire much into the princes’ affairs?”

Shu Wenlan said, “Lord Censor, don’t misunderstand. Shu isn’t asking.” He paused. “I’m trying to get close to you.”

He was very tall with long legs. Sitting at this small table seemed rather uncomfortable. Being sensitive to cold, he had to curl up, extending his hands to warm them over the small brazier. He spoke unhurriedly: “Shu has no material possessions, is plagued by illness, and has lived in seclusion for years. I really don’t have anything presentable, but I am idle enough to have gathered a basket of palace and outside trivialities. Though Censor Su bears the responsibility of supervision, you may not know all the palace secrets, street rumors, and officials’ family affairs clearly. If you don’t understand something, Censor, you can ask me. Friendship grows from conversation. Let’s first be friends in conversation, and when the timing is appropriate, we can progress further.”

Su Jin didn’t know where Shu Wenlan’s “progress further” was meant to go. Surely he didn’t really want to marry his younger sister to her? That would be absolutely unacceptable.

Seeing she didn’t answer, Shu Wenlan continued from his earlier topic: “Shu has heard that it’s because the Thirteenth Prince has long had someone in his heart.”