In the deep of midsummer, the banana trees in the garden of the Academy for the Virtuous grew lush and dense — a deep, glistening green on the verge of dripping, and on a few panels near the window, one could still faintly make out traces of ink.

Luowei had changed into a thin robe in a hue of crushed indigo, and skipped ahead of Song Ling, a food basket in hand.

On the spring tour, Song Ling had given her a fine sword, and Luowei had been delighted. She had pestered General Yanshao, who accompanied the tour, to teach her the sword.

Having finally mastered it with great effort, she was eager to come back and show Song Ling — but somehow she had managed to displease him without knowing how.

Song Ling had refused to speak to her for three full days, and it was only today that he had condescended to seek her out first. Luowei had prepared a bowl of sugarcane juice with cherries set on ice with her own hands, and had finally managed to coax him back into good spirits.

After that, the two had thought of Song Lan, who had come to the Academy but whom they had not yet gone to visit. So she prepared a second bowl and came with Song Ling to find him.

Song Lan had already changed into a clean black long robe with a glimpse of snow-white inner garment at the hem. He wore a soft cap, and since he had no personal eunuch to attend him, he carried his own small book satchel on his back, and was slowly making his way toward the study hall.

After Luowei caught sight of him, she had just begun to call out cheerfully when she was grabbed by the back of her neck and pulled back by Song Ling.

Somewhat puzzled, she followed Song Ling’s gaze and turned her head — only to see the Fifth Prince, A’Qi, emerge from somewhere, jewels and gold glinting on his person, and plant himself directly in Song Lan’s path in a huff.

Song Lan held the strap of his book satchel and called out quietly: “Fifth brother.”

Before the words were out, A’Qi sent a kick flying — right into his chest. Song Lan was unprepared and, with a cry of pain, fell backward.

The book satchel knocked against the steps, and the pages inside scattered across the ground.

A’Qi shouted in fury: “You are impudent! How dare you…”

They were not standing very close, and the second half of the sentence was lost.

Luowei watched as Song Lan’s face had turned somewhat pale from the blow, and tried urgently to step forward and intervene. But Song Ling half held her back and did not let go, his expression slightly cold as he continued to listen to the exchange between the two.

Song Lan clutched his chest. Something he said provoked A’Qi further, and A’Qi struck the book satchel out of his freshly gathered arms: “You were born under an inauspicious star, and your birth mother is a lowly servant imprisoned in Lanxun Court. Father and Second Brother have already shown heaven-sent generosity in permitting you to come here — yet you still dare act so carelessly, deliberately trying to…”

He was speaking and was about to strike again when Song Ling reached down with one hand, took hold of the black iron palace token at his waist, and with a snap of his wrist sent it flying, striking squarely on A’Qi’s wrist.

A’Qi’s fury was still smoldering and was now further provoked. He snatched up the token and, grinding his teeth, turned around furiously: “Who dares —”

Halfway through the sentence, he suddenly caught sight of who had come, and at once changed his words. A little sheepishly, he stuttered: “Sec — Second brother.”

Luowei went forward to help Song Lan to his feet. Song Ling approached with his hands clasped behind his back, and said in a cold voice: “To bully a younger brother, to speak with insolence — all the daily teachings of the teachers and tutors, have you forgotten every last one?”

A’Qi hung his head and muttered: “Elder brother does not know. It was this little one who first…”

Song Ling said: “He is your blood kin and brother. How should you address him?”

A’Qi immediately corrected himself: “Yes, Second brother. This younger brother knows he was wrong.”

He made a grimace in Luowei’s direction, and Luowei raised her eyebrows at him to signal she was unable to help — she and the various princes and princesses usually got on well enough. The Fifth Prince’s nature was impetuous and unruly, but he was not malicious at heart, and today’s behavior had startled even her.

Song Ling told A’Qi to go to the Hall of Correction for punishment. A’Qi bowed to him and, still flushed with anger, turned and strode off.

Watching his retreating figure, Luowei said helplessly: “A’Qi is not usually like this. What happened between you two?”

Song Lan, however, did not wish to say more. He simply brushed the dust from his clothes, bowed formally to both of them, and said: “Many thanks to elder brother and elder sister for their protection.”

Song Ling later learned that in the three months since Song Lan had come to the Academy for the Virtuous, he had been very unwelcome. He always came and went alone, and was frequently teased by A’Qi.

Despite all of this, he still persisted in coming every day to attend lessons. Morning and evening, he arrived on time and took his leave on time, bowing properly to each of the teachers, and never once complained.

Song Ling, seeing that he had no one to look after him, picked out a more seasoned eunuch from the Palace Eunuch Bureau — Liu Xi — and assigned him to attend to Song Lan. Liu Xi was a steady and dependable man, and attended to his duties with great diligence.

From that point on, Song Lan came and went with Song Ling in the Academy for the Virtuous, and became the prince closest to him.

Whenever Luowei brought novelties from outside the palace for the princes and princesses, she would always bring an extra share for him, and on the side would pull him aside to say with earnest care: “If Zi Lan has any difficulty, you must tell us. With me and A’Tang brother here, no one shall be allowed to bully you.”

Song Lan had no other way to repay her gifts, but had nothing else to offer, and could only give her the dried plum blossoms he had collected in Lanxun Court. Having given them, he felt they were too plain and humble, and hid behind the crabapple tree refusing to come out.

Hearing her words, he finally called out in delight: “Elder sister and elder brother are truly the best people in all the world.”

……

Luowei looked up at those plum trees, and suddenly shed a trail of tears.

Song Lan knew she was mourning for Song Ling. Displeased in his heart and yet unable to say so, he suppressed the feeling again and again — and in the end only gently pulled her into his arms.

Luowei leaned on his shoulder and heard his low voice: “Weiwei, do not grieve. I am here with you.”

And so Luowei understood that he must now be suffering most acutely — not because he was moved to grief with her over old times, but because he was a murderer who was forced to silently endure the inability to show his triumph before her.

He had never called him ‘Second brother.’ He had always properly and formally addressed him as ‘Elder brother.’ And now, he could not even bring himself to say the word ‘Elder brother’ before her.

She felt a flash of vengeful satisfaction, and wept harder. In the end she clung to him, weeping softly: “Next time when we go out of the palace, I still want to go to Tinghua Terrace.”

Song Lan’s hand pressed upon her shoulder and gripped painfully. Yet she knew this was Song Lan’s fury, and felt only gratification.

“All right.”

As they departed, Luowei glanced back once at the desolate and fallen Lanxun Court.

After Song Lan ascended the throne, his birth mother had moved away from this place, and since then no one else had been settled here. Song Lan had the palace gate beside Lanxun Court sealed off, leaving only this plum grove and a small number of palace servants to tend to it indolently.

She raised her hand to wipe the tears from the corner of her eye, and inwardly cursed herself.

Perhaps Song Lan would never know that her tears had once been shed for him as well — shed for the loss of that pure innocence of his. But that drop of tears was mixed in with the longing that enraged him, and how could it ever be distinguished.

The young boy who had once hidden behind the crabapple tree was no more.

Perhaps he had come to know the vastness of heaven and earth, and had abandoned in vain the green of the grass and trees.

* * *

On that same day, after sitting with Song Lan for a long time in Lanxun Court, Luowei had just returned to Qionghua Hall when she heard that Song Lan had summoned Ye Tingyan to the rear study of Qianfang Hall.

She and Yan Luo spread out the chess board and played, asking her to guess at the purpose of this move.

Yan Luo smiled and said: “Your Highness suddenly sent His Majesty to the Imperial Ancestral Temple in front of all the ministers in the Council of State. He could not refuse, and will naturally be suspicious of your intentions. Summoning a trusted confidant — it is to leave a pair of eyes behind in the palace.”

Having said this, she clicked her tongue: “But it should not be only one pair of eyes. This servant is actually curious — Lord Ye is a civil official, yet he comes from a military family. Even if His Majesty favors him greatly, would he bring him into the Zhuque Division?”

“Certainly not,” Luowei said definitively, placing a black stone. “He is far more useful than anyone in the Zhuque Division. Through the path of imperial examinations, though one may elevate scholars from humble origins, of the students sitting for the examinations today, who has not already been courted and roped in by various factions before the examination, and taken up residence under powerful families? A clean and untainted official of unaffiliated background, elevated through the special imperial examination — such a person is worth ten thousand taels of gold. After Yu Qiushi, Song Lan will have great need of someone like him, raised entirely by his own hand, to serve as a chancellor of the realm.”

Yan Luo said: “That Chang scholar…”

Luowei shook her head: “Song Lan is most adept at the art of balance — he would never stake everything on one person. Besides, if it were not for Chang Zhao, if there had been only Ye the Third, Song Lan would have his doubts even about the affair of protecting him at the Muspring Grounds. In a manner of speaking, Chang Zhao stumbling onto this by accident actually did Ye the Third a service.”

Yan Luo listened carefully, and pondered this.

She and Luowei played that game of chess through to the end, and then asked quietly: “Were Your Highness’s actions in the Council of State today not overly reckless? Before Lord Ye appeared, Your Highness was not so hasty. Are you so certain he can bring down the Grand Preceptor?”

Luowei tightly shut her eyes, then opened them again, and smiled: “The time has come, and there are things that must be done — whether he can bring down the Grand Preceptor or not, at worst one simply replaces him with another piece. My only concern is that if he moves to eliminate the Grand Preceptor too swiftly, I will be left without time to make my preparations and will be forced into a direct confrontation with him. Weighed against each other, that second outcome seems far more frightening.”

* * *

Three days later, the Emperor formally approved the petition to leave the palace to pray for rain. The Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review were still wrangling without resolution over the Muspring Grounds assassination case — Ye Tingyan and Chang Zhao had already agreed upon those in the two provinces, the six ministries, and among the Palace Guards who needed to be held accountable. But as for whether it was Lin Zhao or the horse trainer who had carried out the assassination, the matter was still unresolved.

The Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review pushed the responsibility onto each other, with no one willing to declare a verdict. The date for the public hearing was pushed back again and again. In the end, Song Lan grew tired of hearing of it, and ordered them to continue holding the suspects in custody. He would return from his prayers and open the public hearing himself.

With this move, Luowei had a fair amount to surmise.

Song Lan had tasked Ye Tingyan and Chang Zhao together with the Zhuque Division to handle the judicial proceedings, yet had held back the matter this long without releasing it. He had settled upon the certainty that the Lin Family was not innocent in the assassination.

Taking one step back: even if Lin Zhao were innocent, Song Lan would most likely still wish to wait for his return from the prayers before dealing with the Lin Family at his leisure — the national treasury was urgently short of funds. Previously, Luowei had entrusted Zhang Pingjing to deliberately exaggerate the shortfall somewhat when speaking in the Council of State, and together with Ye Tingyan’s insinuations about the Lin Family’s immeasurable wealth, this had indeed moved Song Lan’s heart.

The Lin Family’s fall would not only sever one of Yu Qiushi’s most capable lieutenants — it would also cause many others to feel, at least vaguely, a measure of resentment toward him.

In time, a single spark could set a prairie ablaze.

And Song Lan departed the palace to kneel at the Imperial Ancestral Temple. In the course of a few hurried days, he looked over Ye Tingyan’s dispatches, only to find that Luowei had made no unusual moves whatsoever.

In those few days, beyond her daily attendance at the rear study of Qianfang Hall to deliberate matters with Yu Qiushi and others, she had not even stepped out of Qionghua Hall.

He set aside Ye Tingyan’s dispatch and looked over those from Chang Zhao and Liu Mingzhong — the replies were identical. It seemed that, as if to avoid suspicion, Luowei was going out even less than usual, had received no outer officials, and had taken no suspicious action of any kind.

Ye Tingyan and Chang Zhao had each called at Qionghua Hall once. Luowei had received them and spoken with them, but both times had sent them away in under the time it took to burn one stick of incense.

Song Lan slowly burned the letter in his hand, and privately reasoned that his anxiety of recent days had been excessive.

Luowei’s approval of the Ministry of Rites’ petition, and the instruction for him to pray for rain, had perhaps been done simply out of concern for his reputation.

Ten days passed in the blink of an eye. When Song Lan returned to the palace, he passed through the city market. He had grown noticeably thinner, and though Jiangnan had still not received news of rain, the common people all praised the young Emperor’s benevolence and frugality, and declared him the image of a wise ruler.

This reassured him further. Upon returning to the palace, he went first to find Luowei. After a period of intimate tenderness, she remained gentle and attentive as always, and he felt the worry he had lifted trickle back down, little by little.

Fragrant incense burned richly in the hall. When the hour approached the morning court, Song Lan was startled awake by the sound of footsteps. Luowei rose and put on a light gauze robe to ask what the matter was, then returned unhurriedly and said: “Minister Zhang Pingjing is unwell.”

Zhang Pingjing was an old-time official, and had been on fairly good terms with Su Zhoudou. He had always appeared vigorous in spirit, but it now became known that he had been suffering from a grave illness all along, barely holding on by sheer will.

This latest episode came on with great force, and only because of the severity was it made known at last.

The following day, Luowei went out of the palace and personally called at the Zhang Family residence to pay her respects.

What surprised her was that Zhang Pingjing had actually kept Ye Tingyan nearby for conversation. Upon hearing that she had arrived, he suddenly claimed to be not feeling well, dismissed Ye Tingyan, and sent for both of them to wait in the front hall.

Outside Zhang Pingjing’s sick chamber lay a dim and dusky inner courtyard. The servants had all withdrawn to avoid the Empress’s cortege, and Luowei had also dismissed her own attendants. She opened her mouth and asked at once: “When did you and the old gentleman first become acquainted?”

Ye Tingyan blinked and said: “Just now.”

Before she could open her mouth, he continued: “Ten days’ separation — I did not expect that during the days His Majesty was absent from the palace, I would find it even harder to see Your Highness than usual.”

Luowei said languidly: “Lord Ye need not worry. This time His Majesty sent you and the Zhuque Division and others to watch over me, and came away with nothing. Next time he will not do the same.”

Ye Tingyan cupped his hands in a bow with an expression of utter sincerity: “Your Highness, this is a stratagem of feigning concealment in plain sight. This official is most admiring.”

Luowei could not be bothered to contend with him in words. She ignored his remark and asked directly: “Tomorrow is the Ministry of Justice’s public hearing. Whatever the outcome, it is a foregone conclusion that the Marquis of Feng Ping will be pulled into this — though this Empress is somewhat curious: His Majesty moved his heart over the Marquis of Feng Ping’s family wealth. This matter of the assassination must still be given some accounting. Has Lord Ye prepared his explanation?”

Ye Tingyan played with the white jade thumb ring on his finger, then lifted his eyes at her words and smiled at her. He said unhurriedly: “The explanation for this matter…”

He leaned in closer, and the fragrance of his incense came closer too: “This official seems not to have prepared it. If tomorrow this official’s plan should go awry and drag even himself into the water, would Your Highness consider… saving this official’s life?”