Moreover, the Sixth Prince’s men had also learned that Han Linfeng had indeed set his sights on this young woman early on — he had previously gone so far as to fawningly send her frankincense as a gift, and had reportedly even pulled strings at the yamen to get someone released on her behalf.

So this was a case of an idle young lord coveting a woman for a long time, unable to obtain what he wanted, and at last producing such a scandal.

One could only wonder whether Prince Beizhen, when word reached him in Liangzhou, would be so furious that he would ride through the night to the capital and beat this unworthy son to death.

Had anyone else been involved, the Sixth Prince might have investigated further. But this Han Linfeng — he could not spare even half an eye’s worth of regard for him, and automatically dismissed any notion that he could be capable of orchestrating Cao Sheng’s prison break.

Added to that, the whole affair was simply too disgraceful. What the Sixth Prince feared most right now was news that a commoner girl had been violated at his wine banquet reaching the Emperor’s ears — if that happened, things would be truly catastrophic.

Damned Han Linfeng! And to think that his own sister-in-law had been weeping and begging to marry this sort of wretch!

He really ought to drag Fang Jinshu here to take a good look at the sorry, blood-soaked state of her beloved!

All the Sixth Prince wanted now was to defuse the situation and protect his own reputation. Had the commotion not attracted so many incense-seekers, he might have been able to deal with the young woman by labeling her an assassin.

But now the visitors had already heard the story, and there was even talk that the young woman was blind. Forcing the label of assassin on her would be laughable — like claiming it was snowing goose feathers in the middle of June.

And besides, dealing with Han Linfeng’s filthy mess was something he felt tainted by just being near.

Thinking this, the Sixth Prince said furiously: “Go — make it clear to that scoundrel, let him sober up. This affair has already caused too much of an uproar; it cannot be allowed to stoke further public anger. Whether he gives that young woman a generous sum of silver or takes her as a concubine — whatever it takes, he must stop her and her family’s mouths. If he dares cause any more trouble, seizing a decent woman and causing a death, don’t blame me for turning my face and having him hauled to the Office of Justice for interrogation!”

* * *

As for Su Luoyun — it was only after she had been interrogated by the matron sent by the Sixth Prince that this great performance finally reached a pause.

Just now, with Xiangcao attending her, she had bathed and changed, and was now seated before the dressing case that had been temporarily brought in, combing her hair and steadying her nerves.

Su Luoyun had not particularly wanted to bathe. But when Han Linfeng had struck earlier, he had done so with such force that the blood had spattered onto her face.

Xiangcao had told her that her garments were also covered in blood stains.

She did not want to frighten her younger brother when she returned, so when the Shizi’s household maids brought in hot water, she had Xiangcao usher all the Shizi’s servants out, then shut the door and hastily washed herself clean.

Xiangcao’s hands moved through the motions of habit, but her mind was in a fog — the whole of the afternoon felt like a dream.

She had only been dragged aside by a guard for a brief moment. How had the Shizi suddenly turned into a beast and pounced on her mistress, who had been left alone with him?

By the time Xiangcao managed to get close, the sight of all that blood had made her hands and feet go numb, and she let out a sharp involuntary scream.

And then that Qingyu had stretched his neck and howled along with her, bellowing something outrageous about how the Shizi had taken a fancy to her young mistress and what a tremendous honor it was — how shameless that she didn’t appreciate it.

The two of them had competed at the tops of their lungs, and that was how so many people had been drawn over afterward.

Xiangcao was filled with regret, feeling she should never have made such a scene. Fortunately, her young mistress had covered her face and come down the mountain quickly, so no one had gotten a good look at her — otherwise her reputation would have been utterly destroyed.

And then afterward, Qingyu had led people to escort her and her young mistress back here… Was this… was this to punish her mistress?

Yet looking at Su Luoyun’s still-composed expression, Xiangcao could only read it as the numb, world-weary resignation of a woman who had suffered the loss of her virtue — the look of someone who had seen through everything and no longer feared death…

“Eldest young lady, are you… all right?”

Su Luoyun gave a soft sound of acknowledgment, then slowly raised her hand…

Xiangcao jolted as if struck and screamed again, eyes wide: “Eldest young lady! You must keep your spirits up — please don’t do anything foolish!”

Su Luoyun had only been feeling that the hairpin was too tightly set while combing her hair just now, and the prongs were pressing into her scalp. She was simply trying to shift it. But the moment her hand touched the hairpin, Xiangcao came sobbing and lunging at her, clamping both hands around her wrist.

After hearing the wailing and crying, Su Luoyun did not know whether to laugh or cry. It dawned on her that Xiangcao suspected she was about to drive the hairpin into her own throat and take her life — which was why she was carrying on so hysterically.

The girl had quite a grip on her, and Su Luoyun could not pull free for a moment. She could only try to soothe her: “Dear Xiangcao, I have no wish to die — let go of me quickly!”

Just as mistress and maid were tangled up in this mutual misunderstanding, a knock at the door suddenly sounded from outside.

Su Luoyun gave Xiangcao a push and said: “I truly will not stab myself — it would hurt dreadfully! Go and open the door!”

Xiangcao wiped her tears and went to answer the door — then immediately fixed the visitor with a furious glare.

It was Han Linfeng, his wounds now dressed and bound, standing outside in a fresh pale-smoke-colored long robe, looking for all the world like a proper, respectable gentleman.

If one did not know the truth, anyone looking at this man — with his striking brows, clear bright eyes, and an air as refined and untroubled as cloud and breeze — would never in a thousand years have imagined that such an immortal-like face could be capable of such bestial conduct…

Before Xiangcao could say a word, Su Luoyun spoke first: “That is the Shizi, is it not? Please step outside for a moment — I have something to say to the Shizi.”

Though Xiangcao was uneasy, Su Luoyun insisted repeatedly, and she had no choice but to obey. She went to stand outside with Qingyu, the two of them fixing each other with matching glares.

After Han Linfeng had closed the door behind him, Su Luoyun caught the scent of medicine drifting closer and asked softly: “Are the Shizi’s wounds serious?”

She had long known that his air of careless indolence was a mask. Even so, she had not expected that when he struck himself, he would be so merciless. The wounds on his body must be quite severe.

Han Linfeng sat down across from her, poured her a cup of tea, and said: “I had it measured. They are only flesh wounds — they will heal and scab over within a few days. As for your younger brother, I told him only that you twisted your ankle on the mountain and I brought you down for treatment, that the physician has said you are not to move about, and that you are convalescing here at my residence. He wanted to come see you, but I did not let the guards allow him in. You should be able to return home tomorrow morning, after I have gone to the palace.”

Su Luoyun’s fine brows creased slightly. She did not understand why he needed to go to the palace first before releasing her.

The situation earlier had been too urgent to allow her time to think through the full implications — she had only been focused on resolving the immediate problem of the Sixth Prince’s bathing scheme.

But now that she had come down the mountain and calmed herself, she felt this plan was likely to leave a trail of troublesome consequences. One of them was this: she had “wounded” a member of the imperial lineage — how was that to be resolved?

By the letter of the law, it should be Han Shizi who bore punishment for having “humiliated” a commoner woman.

But the imperial family guarded its dignity. All the more so given that this had occurred at the Sixth Prince’s wine banquet — everything would be handled by making mountains into molehills and sweeping the whole affair quietly away.

Thinking it through, the most underhanded resolution would be to accuse her of having attempted to assassinate the Shizi — have her thrown in prison and charged with a crime, thereby covering up the scandal…

When Su Luoyun worked this out, she was genuinely alarmed. She had no way of knowing whether Han Linfeng was the kind of man who valued loyalty and sentiment — whether, out of regard for her having come to his aid, he would leave her a way out.

When she ventured to probe the question, Han Linfeng answered as if he had already thought it through long ago, and replied unhurriedly: “You are worrying too much. I told you early on that I would take care of your reputation. As things stand, having you enter the household is the only way to ensure both sides are fully protected.”

Su Luoyun was taken aback. She had not expected Han Linfeng to raise this matter again, and could not help a faint, bemused smile. “Shizi, the immediate crisis has passed — why are you still saying this?”

Setting aside all the complications between them, simply looking at Han Linfeng himself — he was not the sort of man to whom she could entrust her life. He was a man of deep concealment, and she had no idea what clandestine entanglements he harbored. A man like that — once the debt of gratitude was repaid, the wiser course was naturally to keep one’s distance.

She was well aware her own station was not fitting. As for his mention of “entering the household” — it most likely meant he intended to take her as a concubine.

He was, no doubt, thinking to salvage her reputation in this way.

But as for the loss of her virtue — she truly did not care. The laws of Great Wei said nothing about a woman’s reputation barring her family from serving in office. Nor did they say a woman of damaged reputation could not open a shop and earn silver.

If the storm grew too great and she could no longer do business in the capital, she would simply move to a neighboring county and open a shop there. What did it matter if her name was ruined? She could not see the contemptuous faces of those who scorned her, and it would not prevent her from eating and drinking.

As for the reputation of the Su family’s children — after Ding Shi’s many debacles, there was not much left to preserve. Her younger sister Su Caijian would have to grow strong enough to weather another round of malicious public opinion.

And as for herself — when the years had taken their toll and she had tasted her fill of the world’s glamour, she would take the silver she had earned and build a small dwelling on a mountain, plant a fragrant garden, listen to birdsong, watch snow fall and petals drift, keep company with a nun in prayer and simple vegetarian meals, and pursue the inner quiet she sought.

Thinking of it this way, the Shizi’s proposal was truly unnecessary.

Han Linfeng listened to Su Luoyun’s gentle refusal without comment. He only said mildly: “Did you not just think this through yourself — if this matter cannot be properly settled, the consequences for you are even greater. Even if you are broad-minded enough to take it in stride, think of your family, who will still have to go to considerable trouble to deal with it. And besides — what exactly is wrong with entering the Shizi’s household?”

Without waiting for Su Luoyun to respond, he continued directly: “After you enter the household, everything goes on as before — I am not one to keep you cooped up. I will not be staying in the capital for too long in any case; within a year or two, I will need to return to Liangzhou. If by then you find Liangzhou too remote for your tastes, I need not take you back to Liangzhou with me…”

If she preferred a place of bustle and abundance, he could leave her behind and establish a separate residence for her in a city that suited her.

Hearing this, Su Luoyun felt she understood what the Shizi meant.

The charge of defiling a commoner woman was too shameful a disgrace. If he took her in formally, both sides could salvage their reputations, and she would also be spared the nuisance of dealing with her father’s nagging.

Then, once the talk had died down and it was time for him to return to Liangzhou, he would release her from the household. After all, she was only a concubine — releasing her required no particularly complicated process.

A dignified Shizi keeping a blind concubine was always going to be an ill-matched arrangement.

But even if it was merely a temporary expedient, she felt there was no need for all this trouble.

Just as she was about to speak again, Han Linfeng said: “I know you are independent and dislike relying on others. I know even better that I am not the kind of man you would choose to depend on. But I hope Miss will understand — walking this stretch of road together is still better than you walking it alone… If you do not marry, you will never truly free yourself from the Su family’s troubles. At the very least, I can ensure that you and your younger brother are no longer dragged into the Su family’s mess.”

Su Luoyun fell silent. The words “walking it alone” were something only a person who truly understood her could have said.

The Shizi was not speaking to her of love and sentiment — he was speaking the cold, hard truth of her circumstances. And how could she not know that public opinion was a fearsome thing — perhaps more so than she could presently imagine?

Moreover, if she did not marry, she would remain under her father’s authority indefinitely.

But if she were to marry — even if it was only as a man’s concubine — and if the “transaction” with the Shizi went smoothly and the arrangement was to mutual benefit, if he was willing to give her a path to freedom, then perhaps she could find a life of her own choosing…

This Shizi spoke in measured tones, and his voice — naturally resonant and magnetic — had always been persuasive.

Even on her guard as she was, Su Luoyun found herself nearly swayed.

She did not want to decide too quickly. And so, in the end, she said softly: “Allow me some time to think…”

Han Linfeng lowered his gaze and looked at her snow-white, delicate cheek. She was softly biting her lower lip — clearly caught between two equally difficult choices.

He said nothing more. After letting Su Luoyun rest for a while, he turned and left the courtyard.

* * *

Just as he was settling himself in his study, someone came to report in secret: “Shizi, we have word. That man is being held in the Office of Justice.”

Han Linfeng took a sheet of paper, ground the ink, and dipped his brush with unhurried ease. “The man himself is no longer important. What matters is getting hold of his deposition — find out what he has confessed. Furthermore, he knows too much, and he could not withstand the interrogation. He cannot be allowed to remain. Make it clean.”

In a few brief sentences, he had decided that man’s life and death. The Office of Justice was strict, but there were many gaps through which a quiet killing could be arranged. He had spent years eating and drinking his way through the capital and had built connections — not all of them idle heirs and singing girls.

Having given his instructions, he handed the letter he had written to Qingyu at his side: “Go — deliver this to the Duke of Lu’s household.”

Qingyu glanced down at it. It was a letter addressed to Second Miss Fang.

He ventured a careful reminder: “Shizi, with such an openly delivered letter, I am afraid it will never reach Second Miss Fang’s hands?”

The Duke of Lu’s household currently guarded against the Shizi the way one guarded against a granary rat — terrified that he might gnaw his way to their most precious jewel.

Without some clever maneuvering, the letter would most likely be intercepted at the very first gate.

But Han Linfeng simply waved a hand and told him to make certain the letter was handed to the gatekeeper — beyond that, he need not concern himself.

Today was the fourteenth of the month. By longstanding custom, the Empress enjoyed hosting a small midday gathering with a few close court ladies over lunch.

If the letter was sent before noon, the timing should work out just perfectly…

He then pulled out another sheet of paper and wrote out a list of dishes at length, sending a page boy to deliver it to the kitchen.

He had long been in the habit of strolling beneath the garden wall, and like the beloved cat Little Rong, had made himself thoroughly acquainted with the Su family’s small courtyard menu. So the dishes he instructed the cook to prepare were all things Su Luoyun was fond of eating.

She had worked hard through such an ordeal today — she deserved a proper meal.

As for the rest… Han Linfeng closed his eyes and reclined on the daybed. He needed to think carefully and make sure he had overlooked nothing. An opportunity like this, after all, was a gift from heaven.

He had already told her: once entangled with him, she would find it impossible to disentangle herself. He had not said that lightly…

* * *

As for Su Luoyun — having performed the role of a fierce and unyielding woman on the mountain, she was genuinely tired. And so, even in unfamiliar surroundings, she lay down on the bed and dozed for a while.

When dinner came, the kitchen sent out the dishes the Shizi had ordered: stir-fried winter bamboo shoots without any ginger shreds, steamed dried fish with a handful of beans added in, and sweet and sour ribs with the bones replaced by strips of yam.

Ever since her eyesight had failed, Su Luoyun had stopped enjoying gnawing on ribs — being unable to see made eating that sort of dish look undignified.

Nanny Tian, who knew she loved the dish, had specially replaced the bones with fried yam — no gnawing or stripping of meat required, and she could eat a piece with full elegance.

The stir-fried bamboo shoots and steamed dried fish might just barely be explained away as a cook coincidentally guessing her tastes. But the ribs — such a particular preparation — could not be called coincidence at all.

Su Luoyun swallowed a piece of the modified ribs with some difficulty, and suddenly realized that, without her knowing when it had happened, her neighbor had come to know her daily habits — her food, her clothing, her every preference — completely and thoroughly.

If it had been Second Miss Fang, she would likely have been overjoyed. But Su Luoyun felt a chill of unease.

She was such an inconsequential blind woman — yet this man had observed her with such meticulous attention and understood her so precisely. Such depth of calculation and concealment was truly frightening.

If the Lu family had been a crumbling tower, then Han Linfeng was a bottomless abyss.

Su Luoyun finished the delicious ribs the Shizi had so carefully arranged for her, and made up her mind: she knew she was no match for this man’s scheming, and the sinking vessel that was the Shizi’s household she had no idea where it was headed. She would sooner die than marry into it as a concubine for the sake of mere expediency.

* * *

Once dinner was over, Su Luoyun looked for Han Linfeng to express — tactfully — that she did not wish to trouble the Shizi any further, and that with night falling, she had no desire to spend the evening in the Shizi’s residence.

But the household steward said that before dinner, the Emperor had summoned the Shizi to the palace.

Su Luoyun waited. The stars filled the sky; the palace gates would surely be closed by now — yet still the Shizi had not returned.

It was plain that he had been kept to spend the night in the palace.

Unable to wait any longer, Su Luoyun made to leave. But the moment she stepped out of the room, a guard blocked her way, saying only that the Shizi had given orders that the young lady was not to be allowed to leave without his permission.

With no other choice, Su Luoyun could only wait for Han Linfeng. But the night passed and he still had not returned.

Though Su Luoyun understood nothing of the court’s inner workings, her heart gave an uneasy lurch.

Being made to spend the night inside the palace — surely that boded more ill than well?

She waited and waited. It was nearly midday the following day before Han Linfeng finally returned to the residence, leaning on Qingyu’s arm.

It turned out that Han Linfeng had been made to kneel all night in the ancestral shrine, and it was only after the Emperor had finished his morning audience today and remembered him that he had finally been released from the palace.

Though Han Linfeng’s martial arts were formidable, there had been no cushion beneath his knees — spending a night on a hard stone floor was punishing even for a tough man.

When Su Luoyun went to the study to see him, a maidservant was pressing hot cloths against his swollen knees.

Once the maidservant took the basin and left, Su Luoyun said what she had come to say.

It was, more or less: she was grateful for the Shizi’s generosity in helping her through several crises. She was a person who remembered her debts, so she regarded today’s affair as her repayment to her benefactor.

As for her reputation — it could be remedied not only with formal status, but also with silver.

The Shizi could simply announce to the world that he had given the young woman a sufficient sum of silver and thereby closed the matter.

Han Linfeng seemed to have anticipated her response long ago. After listening patiently to her reasoning, he replied with no particular expression of remorse: “I must sincerely apologize to Miss. Yesterday the Emperor issued an edict ordering me to marry you into the household without delay… As for the compensation in silver — why don’t you work out the figure? How much would you need as a betrothal gift?”

It struck like a thunderclap from a clear sky. Su Luoyun’s mouth hung half-open, not quite believing what nonsense the Shizi was saying.

Han Linfeng was telling the truth.

The Sixth Prince, terrified that the Emperor might hear about this from someone else and have his own pristine reputation tarnished, had gone to the palace early the previous day and reported the matter to the Emperor himself.

Since there was as yet no lead on the hidden traitor, revealing that part too early would only make him appear incompetent.

So the Sixth Prince had omitted the part about investigating the traitor, and spoke only of how he had been hosting a gathering of guests, but that Han Linfeng had arrived already drunk from drinking elsewhere and had made a spectacle of himself on the mountainside before even reaching the banquet.

But he had barely opened his mouth before the Emperor said he already knew. It turned out that just earlier, Noble Consort Qiong had come with the Ninth Prince to discuss the imperial princes’ marriage arrangements, and had mentioned in passing something she had heard from another lady of the court.

The Sixth Prince inwardly cursed that cunning Noble Consort Qiong — she had beaten him to it and gone to tell tales first.

Emperor Huizong, having now heard Han Linfeng’s sorry affairs twice in succession, frowned several times.

Had any other member of the imperial clan been involved, the Emperor might have considered kinship ties and helped cover up the disgrace for an unworthy descendant.

But the offender was Han Linfeng. The Emperor, just like the Sixth Prince, could not be bothered to clean up after him.

Was this the sort of thing worth bringing to him? The Emperor simply told the Sixth Prince to handle it as he saw fit.

After the Emperor had delivered a somewhat lukewarm warning to the Sixth Prince about being more mindful in future of his image and public conduct, the Empress arrived at the imperial study to see the Emperor.

It turned out that after causing all this trouble, Han Linfeng had the audacity and the leisure to write a letter to Second Miss Fang of the Fang family — a letter full of the sort of sweet words and honeyed flattery a worthless rake uses to deceive a woman.

The rough substance of it was: he had been caught off guard and become entangled by a merchant girl. He had originally intended to take her as a concubine and be done with it. But to his surprise, the merchant girl had grand ambitions and refused to be a concubine. Now the Sixth Prince was also pressing him to comply with the girl’s wishes and not let the matter escalate further. He now regretted not having married Second Miss Fang earlier — if he had, she could have managed his household and spared him all this trouble. He hoped she would show generosity and give him the chance to become a wedded pair.

Just a few days prior, the Duke of Lu’s youngest daughter had been making a scene, forcing her mother to go plead at the Empress’s feet, declaring that she would marry no one in this life but Han Linfeng.

At the time, over the matter of Princess Yuyang, the Empress had both scolded and punished the girl — all to no avail. Short of hardening her heart and disowning the daughter entirely, what could a parent do?

By this point the Empress herself had a troubled heart and felt deep sympathy for the Duchess of Lu.

The Duchess had previously been able to counter her daughter’s wild declarations with the argument that Han Linfeng did not care for Fang Jinshu.

But to everyone’s shock, after stirring up this whole scandal, Han Linfeng had the nerve to secretly write to Fang Jinshu, hoping the Fang family would help clean up his mess. The shamelessness of it was beyond words.

The Duchess had intercepted the letter and rushed to the palace. When she recounted it privately to the Empress, she trembled with rage and could not stop her tears.

But the Empress soothed the Duchess, saying she would speak to the Emperor and that the Emperor would certainly consider what was best for the Duke and Duchess.

The Empress was not speaking empty comfort — for when she had previously raised the matter of Fang Jinshu with the Emperor, Emperor Huizong had flatly refused.

The Duke of Lu was a senior court elder of the Policy Council, a man of immense rank and influence. Taking his eldest daughter as wife to the Sixth Prince had been arranged in the first place precisely because the Lu family was a pillar of the nation’s defense.

What sense did it make to match such a powerful and honored family with a demoted and marginalized branch of the imperial lineage?

Emperor Huizong had frowned and waved the suggestion away the moment he heard it.

But the Empress had pointed out: the second Fang daughter seemed to be possessed by Princess Yuyang’s spirit — by all appearances, she was determined to marry Han Linfeng even at the cost of her life. If the Emperor did not step in to help, and something truly happened to Second Miss Fang, the Duke and Duchess of Lu would inevitably harbor resentment.

So though the match was ill-advised, the Emperor could not simply refuse outright — some delicacy of feeling had to be observed.

Great Wei’s peaceful governance over its remaining half of the realm depended precisely on the mutual support of the great noble houses.

When the founding Emperor Xuanzong, Han Xu, had been able to seize the throne from his imperial nephew all those years ago, it had been thanks entirely to the wholehearted backing of those great houses.

At that time, the Sage and Virtuous Emperor had been swayed by ambition and glory, and insisted on waging war against all counsel — an enterprise that had won him no love from the noble houses. Moreover, he had pursued land redistribution schemes that would have encroached on the prerogatives of the great families. The result of his grand military campaign had been the loss of the throne, and his descendants were still eking out their existence in Liangzhou to this day.

The Sage and Virtuous Emperor’s deposition could be said to have been a catastrophe entirely of his own making, brought on by his failure to read the times.

Emperor Huizong understood the history of how his father had deposed the previous emperor and seized power, and naturally also understood the indispensable importance of these great noble families. And so the Empress’s words did carry weight — they could not be disregarded.

But fortunately Han Linfeng was also a good-for-nothing who had long since made it known that he had no interest in Second Miss Fang. The Emperor could still use that as a pretext, citing his wish to be considerate of a descendant of the late emperor, and declaring he could not force such a match.

But now — that blundering Han Linfeng had just caused a major scandal, and knowing he had no way to resolve it himself, he had the gall to go and court Fang Jinshu, hoping the Duke of Lu’s household would shield him from his own mess.

That tender, affecting letter of appeal had made its way, through one pair of hands after another, to the Emperor’s imperial desk.

The Empress was at a loss as to how to handle it. But the Emperor, reading those pages of absurd nonsense, broke into a laugh — just when one craves sleep, someone obligingly delivers a pillow. What a convenient coincidence this was!