The ruthlessness Situ Sheng had shown in dealing with the Tao Family during his tenure reform should have been just an appetizer.

She understood all too well what Situ Sheng had endured in his childhood — experiences that even a grown adult would struggle to bear, let alone a child so young.

So whatever revenge Situ Sheng chose to take against Tao Huiru, nothing could be considered excessive.

Yet Chu Linlang had inadvertently formed an inexplicably strange friendship with the seventh young miss of the Tao Family, and this made the boundaries of the situation rather awkward.

She was not a child, and she had little interest in forming factions or drawing strict lines about who she would and would not speak to.

In Chu Linlang’s view, Tao Huiru was Tao Huiru, and Tao Yashu was Tao Yashu — the two could not be conflated.

Yet she could not ignore Situ Sheng’s feelings in the matter, so after thinking it over, she asked him directly whether she ought to sever ties with Miss Tao Yashu, or perhaps withdraw from the women’s academy altogether and distance herself from the Tao Family.

As she said this, Situ Sheng was in the middle of washing her hair. He had recently built her a basin stand so she could lie comfortably on the bed and extend her head over the specially crafted frame to wash.

Situ Sheng’s carpentry was truly fine — washing her hair this way was far more pleasant than hunching over and pouring water from above.

When he heard Chu Linlang ask whether she ought to keep her distance from the seventh young miss of the Tao Family, Situ Sheng was cradling the back of her head, working his fingers through her long hair, then rinsing it with the watering can.

Accompanied by the sound of rushing water, he said lightly: “If you find her agreeable, it must be because she has qualities worth befriending. Go ahead and befriend her as you see fit.”

Chu Linlang glanced up at the handsome face hovering above her and confirmed that he was not speaking out of spite, then cautiously continued: “But… mmm, that feels so good…”

She could hardly be blamed for changing the subject — Situ Sheng was at that moment skillfully kneading and massaging her scalp.

The sensation was so pleasant that Chu Linlang felt like a cat being scratched in just the right spot, very nearly purring aloud.

Little did she know that her cat-like trembling sound had stirred something deep in the man’s eyes, his body tensing ever so slightly.

For in these recent nights, whenever the lamp was extinguished and his fingers interlaced with hers, this woman would flush with just such a rosy color, close her almond-shaped eyes, and let out a similar trembling sound — so alluring that it left one unable to stop.

Meanwhile, Chu Linlang, thoroughly enjoying her scalp massage, wisely decided not to press the subject further.

After all, this was one of Situ Sheng’s admirable qualities as a gentleman. Unlike upright, self-important men such as Zhou Sui’an, he never condescended to lecture women on how they ought to conduct themselves, nor did he force women to comply with his wishes.

When it came to Chu Linlang’s daily social affairs, unless she asked him directly, Situ Sheng never interfered.

Still, her acquaintance with Tao Yashu could only extend within the walls of the academy, and any deeper friendship was unlikely — after all, Miss Tao was soon to enter the imperial palace, and after that, she and her fellow female students would probably have very little in common.

But then — why, with her hair half-washed and still dripping wet, had Situ Sheng wrapped it up in a cloth, lifted her in his arms, and pressed her down onto the bed?

The shift happened so quickly that Chu Linlang felt the world spinning.

Situ Sheng turned her over, untying the laces of her robe, and said as a matter of course: “When you make sounds like that, how is a man supposed to hold back?”

In a few days, Linlang would be returning to Jiangkou — but Situ Sheng was entangled in official business and could not accompany her.

At the thought of not being able to hold her as he slept for a stretch of time, Situ Sheng truly wished he could keep her nestled against him every moment.

Linlang laughed and pushed him away at first, but before long, she had half-relented.

Situ Sheng might appear mature, but he was still a young man who had only recently tasted desire. Once the floodgates opened, it became something of a retaliatory release — unrestrained and without limit.

Even after Linlang had moved out of the deputy minister’s residence, Situ Sheng came to her nearly every night, and every time, they needed the lamp extinguished before they could be together.

Chu Linlang was a woman who had been married before, yet she had never imagined that such matters could reach such heights of lingering, tender intensity.

He grew bolder by the day, daring to do everything imaginable.

There was nothing to be done about it — the man’s methods were truly extraordinary. Apart from the first few times, when there had been the slightest trace of inexperience, once he had become practiced in the matter, he had long since surpassed Linlang as a novice instructor and developed his own repertoire of refined, exploratory techniques.

And afterward, both of them were drenched in sweat — the hair washing had been for nothing.

It was afternoon, and the weather was blazing hot. Situ Sheng simply proposed taking Linlang out to the countryside, to a secluded stream he had recently discovered — a cool and shaded spot where they could bathe in the open air.

He arranged for a horse carriage to take them out through the city gates, then along a mountain road. After a short walk on foot, they came upon a stream feeding into a clear pool.

Linlang recalled that he had not known how to swim as a child. But watching him now — stripped to the waist, slicing through the water with the agility of a fish — she could tell he had put in no small effort to master the skill.

Ironically, she had been a decent swimmer in her youth, but ever since he had dragged her into the water as a child, she had been afraid of it and had never swum again.

After a few laps, Situ Sheng gestured for Linlang to come in. The water here was shallow — no need to be afraid.

The cool pool, on such a sweltering day, was genuinely tempting. So Chu Linlang took hold of Situ Sheng’s large hand and slid carefully down into the water.

Having some foundation in swimming, she found her rhythm again within a few strokes.

Situ Sheng watched the lithe, slender, fair-skinned young woman gliding through the pool with her hair fanning out around her — a sight as enchanting as a mermaid, like a spirit descended into a mountain valley — and could not help but smile as he watched her.

When they grew tired, she draped herself in a long cloth and sat beside the pool with Situ Sheng.

Situ Sheng was remarkably skilled at skipping stones — a single small pebble could bounce more than twenty times across the surface before finally sinking. Had the pool been wider, it seemed he could have sent it even farther.

Chu Linlang could not help but turn and look at him.

In that moment, the man standing shirtless in the sun had shed his official bearing and the focused sharpness he wore on ordinary days. The tip of his straight nose caught the light, and when he sent a stone skipping beautifully and turned to her with a smug grin, there was truly something about him — a fresh, youthful vitality belonging to young men.

Linlang was charmed by him. She smiled sweetly in return, picked up a stone of her own, and tried her hand at skipping it, copying his movements.

For a fleeting moment, it felt as though they had both slipped back to their childhood afternoons in Jiangkou — the two of them among the green willow shade, skipping stones together. And hadn’t it been she who first taught Situ Sheng this trick?

Back then, she had managed two consecutive bounces, while Situ Sheng — who had apparently never played such games before — was utterly clumsy at it, and she had laughed at him loudly and without restraint.

Linlang used to think that being with a learned, bookish man necessarily meant composing verse and affecting elegant refinement — that sort of companionship was pleasant enough, but required her to constantly stretch onto her tiptoes to reach, which was exhausting.

Yet when she was with Situ Sheng — who was, after all, an esteemed scholar who had achieved third place in the imperial examinations — they always seemed to be doing things that looked rather pointless: frying dishes and stoking the fire together in the middle of the night, or now, playing like children and tossing pebbles.

It appeared quite dull on the surface, yet it left Linlang feeling uncommonly relaxed and at ease.

This man always seemed to make her feel comfortable — whether on the bed or off it.

She used to think that what married couples called conjugal duty was just a perfunctory matter — the man took his pleasure first, and that was that.

But now she understood that such things could, in fact, be something that allowed the woman to reach her own satisfaction first.

Only this meant being reduced to tears, and even crying aloud.

Such loss of composure always left her with the slightest tinge of embarrassment afterward.

But whenever she grumbled about it, Situ Sheng would always nuzzle his lips against the tip of her nose in an indulgent little kiss, and tell her softly that in his eyes, Linlang looked beautiful no matter how she appeared.

Such words were deeply gratifying. Though Chu Linlang had been married once before, the feeling of being so tenderly cherished — of not having to manage a man’s moods and pleasures while in his company — was something she had never known in all her life.

Yet this intensity of entanglement, this sense of a man knowing her body more intimately than she knew it herself, also left her faintly afraid.

She felt that Situ Sheng was seeping into her very marrow, wringing out every last trace of her rational mind.

This, too, left Linlang with a small, creeping fear. She suddenly understood, a little, why Situ Sheng’s mother had been driven to madness by love.

This feeling of being wholly drawn in and controlled by a man — of being unable to govern one’s own joy and sorrow while sheltered in his embrace — truly had the power to unravel a woman.

This man — once tasted, could not satisfy the craving. Instead, the hunger only grew worse. If she continued clinging to him like this, she might gradually become less and less like herself.

So Linlang’s return to her hometown this time, beyond the surface reasons, was partly to cool the scorching heat that had built between the two of them — to give both him and herself a chance to still their hearts and wean themselves off the addiction.

When word spread among the women’s academy students that Chu Linlang would be going home to Jiangkou before long, her classmates were one and all consumed with envy.

Guan Jinhe said she actually wanted to go as well. Young Master Wang had been dispatched on an official errand, so the wedding date they had planned for the fifth month had been pushed back to the golden autumn of October. This meant she still had time before the marriage to make one more trip abroad and personally select some Jiangnan silk and cloth — just thinking about it was exciting.

At the time, they were in a class on stem-cutting flower arrangement, and Madam Qi, who taught them the art of flower arrangement, overheard the students chattering all at once and chimed in herself. She mentioned that when she was young and attended the women’s academy, summer breaks used to include organized excursions by boat to other places.

If all of them were so eager, she would go back and consult the families of each student, and perhaps Ronlin Women’s Academy might organize such a trip. With escorts accompanying them, it might well be possible to travel to Jiangkou to gather local impressions and enjoy some leisure.

For this group of noble young ladies, once they married, such carefree days would likely be behind them. How could they let a chance for sightseeing and pleasure slip by?

So all the female students went home to consult their families, and apart from Tao Yashu’s household, which had coursework she could not leave behind, most were able to make the journey — some were even bringing their mothers and younger sisters along.

Listening to their lively discussion, a nearly imperceptible trace of envy passed across Tao Yashu’s usually composed face.

As for the boats and security arrangements along the way, each household demonstrated its connections, and in the end they managed to borrow the imperial ark — the vessel the Emperor had used in his youth when traveling to Jiangnan, once used to seat the court officials. It was a great, steady ship with many cabins, even complete with washrooms and bathing rooms, which sent the young ladies into a frenzy of excitement.

As for the soldiers escorting them, Situ Sheng had asked General Li Chengyi to temporarily dispatch a company of crack troops from the naval forces.

Had it been only Chu Linlang making the journey, it would have been difficult to make such a request — but with so many noble ladies traveling together, calling upon this company of soldiers seemed entirely reasonable.

Chu Linlang had never imagined that what was simply a trip home to deal with a shop would somehow turn into such an extraordinary summer excursion.

Soon, when the summer break began, two great ships set off along the waterway, escorted by a naval formation of four vessels.

And just before departure, Tao Yashu — who had originally said she could not come — had somehow convinced her mother to allow her one final outing before entering the palace.

When Chu Linlang saw her arrive, she hurried over and said with a quiet laugh: “You finally persuaded your mother?”

Tao Yashu gave a dignified nod, though she could not conceal the gleam of delight in her eyes, and replied softly: “It was my fourth aunt who pleaded to my grandfather on my behalf and won me permission to come out and enjoy myself.”

But Tao Yashu had not come alone — her fourth aunt had accompanied her.

Tao Huiru was still dressed in her pale gray nun’s robes, chatting and laughing with Madam Hua, the wife of Qi Jingtang.

When Linlang caught sight of Tao Huiru, her smile dimmed considerably.

Over these past days, she had intentionally and unintentionally gathered quite a bit of information about this Tao Huiru from other women of the household circle.

This fourth aunt of the Tao Family had truly loved her husband Yang Yi to the depths of her soul. Even though her husband’s name had become a disgrace to Great Jin and could not be spoken aloud, Tao Huiru still dressed as one keeping faith with the dead, refusing to remarry.

Chu Linlang had heard that after Yang Yi’s surrender, he had become the son-in-law of a tribal chieftain somewhere in the Jing Kingdom — and his new wife, by all accounts, was a renowned beauty of the Jing Kingdom.

She used to find Yang Yi’s legendary record of three marriages rather astonishing and difficult to comprehend — why did capable women throw themselves after him one after another?

But once she learned that Situ Sheng was Yang Yi’s son, she suddenly understood completely.

She did not know how closely Situ Sheng resembled his father, but one look at the son gave a fair impression of what the father must have looked like.

A handsome military commander with formidable martial skill and a distinguished battle record — charming one or two women would have been effortlessly simple.

Yet this rakish man was Situ Sheng’s father, and he had so shamefully failed his first wife and eldest son, utterly destroying the reputation of the Yang Family’s loyal and upright lineage of generals.

Thinking of all this, Chu Huaisheng seemed somehow not the most wretched father in the world after all — which was its own kind of pathetic comedy.

When the fourth aunt of the Tao Family’s gaze drifted in her direction, Chu Linlang deliberately averted her eyes.

So the group of female students and their attendants boarded the ship amid laughter and merry chatter.

Since both the men’s and women’s academies were on summer break, many idle instructors had also tagged along — though to avoid any impropriety, they traveled on a separate ship from the noble ladies.

The slovenly Instructor Liao had also come, standing at the bow of the ship with several other instructors, reciting poetry and laughing heartily at the scenery around them.

It seemed the painful lesson of being plucked clean by the female students last time had not taught Instructor Liao very much.

His clothing and appearance were, as ever, utterly disheveled and unrestrained. With the warming weather, he had added new accoutrements to his ensemble: a pair of heelless cloth slippers slapping against his feet, and a fan in his hand swinging ceaselessly, blowing his long chin whiskers apart so that they flared outward — tempting anyone who saw it to reach over and comb them firmly into place.

Tao Yashu caught a glimpse of this version of Instructor Liao and felt her whole body recoil, yet she could not stop her eyes from involuntarily drifting back to him with a cold, withering look.

Chu Linlang thoughtfully stepped in front of her, shielding her classmate’s line of sight so she would not have to keep looking at the aggravating spectacle.

The considerate gesture made Tao Yashu laugh, and she gave up watching the boatload of odious men entirely, turning instead with her classmates to gaze out over the river scenery.

Along the way, layers of green mountains rose one after another along both banks of the river, and from time to time the calls of gibbons and mountain birds drifted over, truly cleansing the spirit and making the heart feel uncommonly bright and open.

The instructors’ boat provided the most entertainment: led by Instructor Liao, several of the instructors went barefoot, trouser legs rolled up, fishing with their lines dangling over the side, their laughter carrying far across the water. When they moored for the night, they had actually caught a fine haul of fish, which was distributed to the ladies on the main ship as fresh braised fish for everyone’s supper.

The leisurely, pleasant pace of the journey gradually eased Chu Linlang’s anxiety about returning home after so long away.

She had been separated from Jiangkou for so long that she had nearly forgotten what her hometown looked like.

They traveled by fast boat along the waterway for more than ten days, and when the familiar scenery of Jiangkou came into view, Chu Linlang could not suppress the surge of emotion that welled up inside her.

She could not help but say with a smile to Guan Jinhe, who stood beside her: “Look! That jetty there is where I used to sell clay dolls when I was little!”

Then, like recounting treasures from memory, she listed all the famous local snacks and specialty products of Jiangkou.

The young ladies who had never ventured far from home listened with hearts full of longing, declaring one after another that the moment they disembarked, they would buy everything she described to taste.

Yixiu Junzhu stood nearby with her ears perked, yet poured cold water on the idea with disdain, remarking that those street stall foods were filthy, that her mother never let her eat haphazardly from such places, and that she would not want them even if they were given to her for free.

Chu Linlang was never one to bicker with her noble classmates, so upon hearing Yixiu Junzhu say this, she pretended not to hear it.

For some reason she could not quite identify, ever since she had told them she had left the deputy minister’s household, Yixiu Junzhu’s attitude toward her, while still not exactly warm, had softened considerably.

Later, she heard from Miss Guan in a whisper that the Yun Family had taken a fancy to Situ Sheng and had sent word through intermediaries to his side. Unfortunately, Situ Sheng still declined to discuss the matter of his own marriage on the grounds of mourning his mother, leaving the Yun Family to meet with a polite but unyielding refusal.

Chu Linlang heard this and found nothing particularly surprising about it.

If not for the excuse of “observing mourning,” the gates of the handsome deputy minister’s household would likely have been worn flat by matchmakers long ago.

Still, Yixiu Junzhu was probably without hope. In Chu Linlang’s view, only a truly distinguished young lady like Tao Yashu would be a fitting match for someone like Situ Sheng.

Yet he carried such a heavy secret, and by the look of things, he would not be thinking about settling down and starting a family for quite some time.

So whenever Chu Linlang heard of someone coveting Situ Sheng, she could remain calm and unruffled.

She felt herself to be quite terrible! When she had first learned of the secret Situ Sheng carried, she had felt a strange sense of having stumbled upon a treasure — one she could keep to herself with a clear conscience for a few years.

Such a dark and selfish thought — clutching something that ought not to belong to her — was enough to make even Chu Linlang herself feel contemptible.

Having deliberately put some distance between herself and Situ Sheng for a time, Chu Linlang resolved to think of him no more.

On this return trip, she had no intention of going back to the Chu Family household, and even less desire to see her own father.

Once she had dealt with the shop matters, she would arrange to slip away and meet her mother in secret, discuss future arrangements with her, and then decide what to do next.

After disembarking, she led her maidservant to buy local treats for her classmates: Qian’s pork pies, crumbled sesame pastries, Zhang Jiu’s roasted mock goose, oil-burst shrimp, osmanthus glutinous rice cakes, and more.

These specialty snacks filled a full six large five-tiered food carriers.

The local officials had received word well in advance and had already arranged for canopies to be erected along the banks of the Reflecting Moon Lotus Lake — the most scenic spot in Jiangkou — spread with fragrant mats and set with incense burners.

Everyone could sit and enjoy the lotus-dotted lake view while sampling the local specialties.

The water-town snacks carried the characteristic gentle refinement of Jiangnan — each serving was delicate and meticulously presented.

The ladies and their attendants were all accustomed to northern fare, and even those who had occasionally tasted such dishes before had never encountered versions made with the local specialty ingredients and craftsmanship — the flavor was truly something else.

Everyone ate with nothing but praise. Even Yixiu Junzhu, who had sworn she would not eat food from street stalls, could not resist picking up her chopsticks for a taste or two on the sly.

Once she started, she found it rather difficult to stop.

And when Chu Linlang happened to glance over at her, she caught the young lady eating the roasted mock goose in steady, contented mouthfuls.

Just as Yixiu Junzhu was most thoroughly enjoying her food, she noticed Chu Niangzi watching her with a smile and a meaningful look.

The young girl’s face instantly stiffened. To hide her embarrassment, she swallowed quickly — too quickly — and choked, craning her neck and rolling her eyes, while the maidservant at her side frantically patted her on the back.

Chu Linlang calmly looked away, laughing inwardly — no matter how noble the status, what girl of that age was not a little greedy for food? Having declared so firmly she would not eat had simply been stubbornness for nothing.

Having done her duty as the local host and treated her classmates to a fine meal, she left the remaining sightseeing arrangements to the local county assistant, while she went ahead with her maidservant to check on her shop.

The coachman Sui Qiye and the young manservant Wang Wu had traveled on the same boat as Instructor Liao’s group.

While Chu Linlang was treating the noble ladies to local snacks, Qiye had already led Wang Wu to the local stable yard, hired a horse carriage, and was waiting quietly at the roadside.

Having such a careful and experienced old retainer accompanying her was truly a great comfort — without being told, he had already quietly taken care of everything.

Once the carriage entered the town, Chu Linlang looked out at the familiar streets around her and felt a swell of feeling.

After marrying Zhou Sui’an, she had spent the first two years of her married life here in this town of Jiangkou.

Every cobblestone slab of this place was achingly familiar.

In those days, the Zhou household had been utterly destitute. Though she had a few mu of thin farmland, when the rent could not be collected, every day had to be managed with careful frugality.

Every evening as dusk approached, she would walk back and forth along this very market street, watching for anything she might pick up cheaply to bring home.

She would wait until the fish stalls and meat stalls were nearly closing up before rushing over to buy some leftover small fish at a reduced price to make into fish paste, then spend a few coins on bones stripped of nearly all their meat to boil into soup — nourishment for her husband who was laboring over his studies.

Those cheap little fish were full of tiny bones; picking out a bowl of fish meat took great effort and strained the eyes. Sometimes the vendors would even give her these worthless fish for nothing.

Because she was always accepting such small advantages, she had been mocked more than once — here was the daughter of the wealthy Chu salt merchant family of Jiangkou, and she had married a pauper, reduced to buying fish like a beggar.

At the time, she smiled and said nothing, letting people ridicule her as they pleased. But inwardly she swore that someday she would leave this place, and when she returned, it would be draped in honors and in splendor.

Yet as things turned out, she had left in some dignity, and now she was returning with the stigma of a woman who had been cast aside — sneaking home, hiding from her father and brothers, not daring to be seen by the neighbors lest word reach her father.

Revisiting this familiar place, Chu Linlang found herself recalling a great many things she had not had time to think about before. The way things changed while places remained the same was, by all accounts, a common truth of life — and her melancholy was only momentary, quickly scattered by the practical calculations spinning through her mind.

When the carriage arrived at the shop entrance, the manager and the shop assistant were in the middle of taking stock. The moment they saw the proprietress had returned, they invited her warmly into the back hall.

Chu Linlang asked after the shop’s business as usual and reviewed the account books.

The manager, surnamed Qian, was a long-trusted old hand whom Chu Linlang had relied upon for years. From the moment he saw her, his face had worn the look of someone with something troubling to say.

When Chu Linlang finished reviewing the accounts, Manager Qian deliberated for a moment, then said to her: “Proprietress, you did not notify the Chu Family about your return, did you?”

When Chu Linlang shook her head, he went on: “It seems Master Chu has somehow learned about your… separation from Deputy Minister Zhou. He came to the shop and caused quite a scene, saying he wanted to take back this shop.”

Chu Linlang jerked her head up: “How did he find out? What does this shop have to do with him?”