Han Yao hesitated. “But theirs is a match decreed by the Emperor himself…”

Nanny Xi shook her head with a helpless air, her expression grave. “Commandery Princess, you are simply too young. This is no proper imperial decree — this is the Emperor covering up an embarrassment for the Beizhen manor. If it were a genuine marriage, how could the wedding have passed so quietly? We left early, and I imagine the Prince and Wang Fei nearly fainted when the letter reached them. Just listen to me, dear — this old servant would never lead you astray.”

Han Yao had been raised under Nanny Xi’s supervision since childhood. And so, though she felt the words were perhaps a little harsh, she also found a measure of sense in them.

She let out a quiet sigh and reasoned to herself that in the ordinary course of life within the manor, she would treat her sister-in-law as warmly as always — but when they went out in public, she would simply keep a certain distance and avoid being seen walking together.

At first Luoyun did not notice. But after it happened twice — on two separate social calls — she observed that her usually gentle young sister-in-law seemed not to know her in public, deliberately keeping her distance and taking care never to be seen seated beside her, as though they did not share the same household at all.

After the second time, Luoyun understood. The young Commandery Princess was ashamed of her lowborn sister-in-law and was deliberately distancing herself from her in company.

Well. If that was how things stood, she need not be overly warm either — no sense diminishing the Princess’s standing further by association.

Having recognized this small calculation of Han Yao’s, Luoyun bore no particular resentment.

For one thing, she herself knew this marriage was nothing more than a transaction. For another, her own brother had not exactly been gracious toward Han Linfeng, his brother-in-law. Since both parties of this false marriage were enduring their share of cold treatment, there was no point picking at each other over it.

By the customs of the Great Wei, a new bride returned to her family home nine days after the wedding. When Luoyun had originally been married off, Han Linfeng had arranged, for the sake of convenience, to receive the send-off at the Shen family’s small courtyard. Now, for the return visit, he again claimed that the main Shen residence was too far away, and insisted the home-return ceremony take place at the same small courtyard.

At the time of the wedding, Su Hongmeng had been caught completely off guard and had scrambled through the preparations in a state of some confusion. Such a fine match for his daughter — and yet they had barely managed a few tables of guests at their own side of the celebration. His clan uncles had been asking pointed questions ever since, wondering whether the Shizi had been forced into the marriage against his will — was that why the wife’s family had been treated with so little regard?

Now that the Shizi was finally bringing his daughter home for the formal visit, Su Hongmeng was determined to put on a proper spread — invite all the relatives and family friends, and recover some of the face he had lost.

But the small courtyard was so cramped. How many tables could possibly fit?

He hurriedly sent word to Luoyun through a manservant, suggesting they hold the event at the main Shen residence instead — far more suitable, and room enough to invite a larger number of clan uncles.

Luoyun sent word back that she could not presume to decide things on the Shizi’s behalf, and asked her father to understand her difficulty and be content with a quiet home visit — there was no point making requests beyond what was reasonable.

After all, how did the Shen family compare to the Beizhen manor? Did her father truly expect to put on a display of a father-in-law’s authority before imperial kinsmen?

The reasoning was sound, but Su Hongmeng seethed with suppressed frustration all the same. This daughter of his — she might as well not have married at all. Here he was, unable to act the part of the father-in-law, reduced instead to showing deference. A fine situation.

In the end, stewing as he was, he gave up on the banquet entirely.

On the day of the return visit, Su Hongmeng deliberately arrived somewhat late. When he finally reached the small courtyard, his distinguished son-in-law and daughter had already come early and were sitting in the stone chairs of the courtyard with Su Guiyan, chatting.

When Su Hongmeng settled into his chair and prepared to receive his son-in-law’s tea in the customary fashion, Han Linfeng simply picked up the cup and had a maidservant pass it to Su Hongmeng on his behalf — then said with minimal ceremony: “The wedding was rushed, and if there have been any lapses in courtesy toward my father-in-law, I ask for your forbearance.”

Su Hongmeng, who had never quite found his footing in Han Linfeng’s presence, managed a genial uncle’s smile. “Think nothing of it, think nothing of it. I hear my worthy son-in-law has taken up a post at the Ministry of Works — a new appointment, and no doubt very demanding. Should there be anything I might assist with, please do not hesitate to say so. I served as a treasury clerk at the Trade Supervision Bureau in my time, and I am well-acquainted with accounts and documents. There is also…”

Luoyun sat listening as her father steered every three sentences toward official advancement. He was clearly hoping his new son-in-law might recommend him for some minor clerical position.

Not wishing to see her father make a fool of himself before the Shizi, she cut in: “Ah, that reminds me — after Su Guiyan’s autumn examination, I intend to enroll him at the Luming Academy.”

Her father’s attention shifted slightly at this. His general drift was: since Guiyan was going, could his two brothers Su Jinguan and Su Jincheng go as well?

Luoyun explained that enrollment required both a recommendation and an entrance examination, and even Guiyan’s admission was not yet certain — if the two brothers wished to attend, their father would need to put in some effort on their behalf himself.

Su Hongmeng laughed and suggested that since the two boys were the Beizhen Shizi’s brothers-in-law, what academy would dare turn them away?

And with that, he was off again — talking endlessly, trying by every means available to draw some useful commitment out of Han Linfeng.

In short, with Su Hongmeng in the room, Luoyun had no opportunity whatsoever to speak privately with her brother.

Han Linfeng, however, saw this clearly. He used the excuse of needing to return to the Ministry of Works that afternoon, and as he rose to leave, invited his father-in-law to accompany him on his way out.

Su Hongmeng, though not yet satisfied he’d had his say, could hardly refuse when his son-in-law made the invitation. The two men walked out through the lane together, continuing their conversation on the road.

And so, with the two men gone, Luoyun at last had a quiet moment alone with her brother.

In just seven days, he would sit for the childhood examination. Luoyun worried that her marriage had distracted him.

Though Han Linfeng had arranged for Tutor Shao to take up residence in the small courtyard and oversee the boy’s studies, Luoyun still needed to reassure her brother — to keep him from brooding over things that did not concern him.

But Guiyan said: “I know better than anyone how much those two years were set back by my stepmother. I know what this examination means. Only when I have made something of myself will I be able to protect my sister. Do not worry — one day, I will come and bring you home from the Shizi’s manor.”

Luoyun smiled and ruffled his hair. Her brother’s words had the eagerness of youth in them — but a person needed something to hope for. Without hope, how could one keep moving forward?

She too longed for that day to come.

When the Shizi released her from the marriage, she would live just as she pleased.

As the sister and brother sat together imagining that future reunion, footsteps sounded again in the courtyard. “If you wish to bring your sister home, you are welcome to do so at any time — but you will need to wait until the examinations are finished.”

Han Linfeng, who had supposedly just departed, had turned around and come back.

Luoyun was used to the near-silence of his footsteps, yet was still startled.

There was nothing improper in what she and her brother had been saying. The terms she and the Shizi had agreed upon before the wedding were exactly this.

But appearances still had to be maintained, and so she smoothed things over with a smile: “Guiyan misses me and always wants me to come home for a visit. By the way — Shizi, did you not need to go to the Ministry of Works? Why have you come back?”

Han Linfeng replied without particular expression: “I was halfway there when I remembered the Ministry has a day off today. So I turned around.”

Luoyun did not believe for a moment that this had been a spontaneous return. Several of his manservants had arrived behind him carrying a number of food boxes — the kind of dishes that required hours of preparation and were specially ordered from a proper restaurant.

He must have placed the order long in advance. This had been no last-minute decision. Which meant his earlier maneuvering to walk Su Hongmeng out of the courtyard had been entirely deliberate.

All of it arranged so that, in the days before the great examination, she and her brother could sit down and share a proper meal.

Su Guiyan, however, clearly did not regard this unexpected brother-in-law as one of his own. He sat stiff and awkward throughout, helping only his sister to dishes and drink, not sparing Han Linfeng so much as a glance.

Su Luoyun could not see this, but she could feel the tension at the table. Her brother was young and blunt — he had never been good at concealing his feelings.

She was just considering how to ease the atmosphere when Han Linfeng spoke, quite naturally: “This year’s examination — beyond recitation and legal principles, they have added an impromptu composition on practical governance. Many senior scholars at the academies are predicting the topic will concern real administrative affairs. Have you prepared for that?”

Su Guiyan knew exactly what sort of brother-in-law he had been given. The books in the man’s study were pristine, their pages unturned. A man like that, discussing examination topics with him? The presumption was almost laughable.

And so he said coolly: “Tutor Shao has given me his predictions. Shizi need not concern himself.”

Han Linfeng saw that the young brother-in-law had not shifted to calling him “brother-in-law” but did not take offense. He went on, with the same easy tone: “Since I started at the Ministry of Works, I’ve come to realize that the court’s most pressing problem is in fact a shortage of grain. It makes sense — in the last decade or so, the population has grown by more than threefold with the years of peace and prosperity, and the majority have settled in the south, all of them mouths that need feeding.”

He paused briefly, then continued: “The southern regions have mild weather and are suited for cultivation through all four seasons. The difficulty is that there are too many people for too little land, and the abundance of lakes and marshes limits what can actually be farmed. Farmers have been clever about it — they devised the poldering method, building embankments and enclosing marshland to create new fields. For a time, grain yields increased considerably. The embankments can also be used for mulberry cultivation and silkworm raising, while the enclosed ponds support fish and shrimp. But this approach has its complications as well.”

Su Guiyan had always had a hunger for learning. Though he disdained Han Linfeng the person, now that the man was discussing matters of genuine national importance, he could not help responding: “With all those new fields, surely the grain shortage can be addressed? What complications are there?”

Han Linfeng smiled. “The method is ingenious, but building and maintaining the embankments is beyond the means of ordinary farming households. In the past, the counties and prefectures organized the local communities to do the construction. But over the last decade, as county governance has grown increasingly complicated, local authorities simply stopped overseeing this. Many farmers, unable to afford the repairs themselves, have lost good farmland. Left like this, it will eventually become a serious problem.”

Su Guiyan found the argument sound. When he had traveled back from their hometown to collect his sister, he had seen farmers there whose paddies had been flooded by a heavy rain, their embankments washed out. Unable to afford the expensive water-lifting machines needed to drain the fields, they had beaten their chests and wept, helpless to save themselves.

With that in mind, Guiyan said: “In that case, would it not make more sense to require the counties and prefectures to resume their responsibilities and help farmers repair the embankments?”

Han Linfeng shook his head. “I’ve heard from officials at the Ministry that the court has had very little money to spare for farmland and waterworks in recent years. My colleagues often discuss it. Rather than waiting for some sweeping reform, they say, it may be more practical to take matters into one’s own hands. Instead of waiting for large-scale policy changes, the Ministry could produce more water wheels and bailing scoops and distribute them to the various counties for farmers to borrow in rotation. This year’s rainfall is already looking heavier than usual — it would be wise to prepare early.”

Su Guiyan listened, but he still found it difficult to accept the court standing by so passively. In his view, the Emperor’s years of continuous palace renovations had been a wasteful drain on the people, and if only the court practiced greater frugality, the national treasury would be replenished well enough.

But Luoyun had understood Han Linfeng’s meaning very clearly. Hearing the youthful indignation in her brother’s response, she immediately spoke up: “The examination exists to select men of practical use for the court. I have heard that in past years there have always been a few impetuous candidates who filled their papers with sweeping criticisms of current affairs, trying to distinguish themselves through bold opinions. What they fail to understand is that the court looks above all for men of practical ability. What use is a beautifully written essay from someone with his head in the clouds? When you approach your composition, you must hold the word ‘respectful restraint’ firmly in your mind — criticism of the current administration must not appear anywhere in your answer.”

In previous years, practical governance had not been part of the examination. This year, for whatever reason — whether imperial whim or a genuine desire for capable men — it had been added without warning.

Most candidates would have no experience with such a topic. Had Han Linfeng not steered the conversation here, Luoyun would not have thought to consider the pitfalls that her brother’s youthful impetuousness might lead him into on the examination paper.

The realization gave her a small jolt of alarm, and she could not help speaking in a serious tone of warning.

Su Guiyan might have little regard for Han Linfeng, but he had always listened to his sister without question. Seeing her suddenly turn grave, he quickly agreed.

When the family meal was over, not wanting to interrupt her brother’s studies, Luoyun set off with the Shizi to return to Blue Fish Lane. The two of them walked home at a leisurely pace through the evening light, and Luoyun took the opportunity to thank Han Linfeng for his guidance.

She understood perfectly well that this man’s knowledge was likely no less than Tutor Shao’s, and his ability to read situations and people was something no scholar buried in books could match.

What he had said today had not been idle conversation. It had been a thoughtful and genuinely helpful prompt directed at Su Guiyan.

Her brother, in his ignorance of the man’s real intent, had not known to be grateful. But she, as his sister, knew how to recognize kindness.

Han Linfeng only smiled and said lightly: “I have not been much help to him, I’m afraid — a poor brother-in-law. But Guiyan is sharp and quick to grasp things. As for this examination — the chief examiner and the one setting the questions is the senior scholar Li Guitian, who also holds positions in the Hanlin Academy and as Minister of Works. He comes from a humble family, both parents farmers. He naturally holds agriculture in high regard. I recently accompanied him on a visit to Yan County, which suffered severe flooding this year. So I was simply guessing — if he is the one setting the topics, they will likely touch on farming and water management. But it is only a guess, and not at all certain. I was just making conversation with Guiyan.”

As he spoke, he found himself looking at the woman beside him. Blind as she was, her mind was sharp and quick — she had understood his implication at once and moved immediately to warn her brother.

It was a pity she had been born a woman. With a mind like that, and that combination of outward gentleness and inner resolve, she would have made an excellent official.

Coming to the capital this time, the greatest thing he had gained was finding this unpolished gem of a person.

The only trouble was that this singular treasure had not yet made any room for him in her heart. Even when they walked side by side, she kept just the faintest distance between them.

With this thought, he suddenly reached out and drew his new bride closer to his side.

Luoyun, caught off guard, stumbled lightly into him. “What is it?” she asked, surprised.

Han Linfeng caught the faint fragrance from the hair beside his face and said offhandedly: “There is dog filth on the path ahead. Stay closer to me — I’ll steer you around it.”

Luoyun took this at face value and made a small sound of acknowledgment.

At that moment, Han Linfeng reached out and took her soft hand in his. Her instinct was to pull free from that large palm, but Han Linfeng gave her hand a slight, gentle swing and murmured: “The neighbors are watching. Bear with it a little longer.”

Since they were performing for an audience once again, she had no choice but to let him hold on for a while. Only this man seemed extraordinarily cautious about where he set his feet — as though deeply afraid of stepping in something — and walked with remarkable… deliberateness.

Luoyun could not very well urge him to hurry. She could only submit to that large, warm hand gradually heating her lightly cool fingers, and walk on beside him in a state of unnameable awkwardness.

When they had finally made their way through the gates of their residence in Blue Fish Lane, safely past all danger of stepping in anything, Luoyun wasted not a moment in shaking free of that scorching hand.

When she went to the washing room to change and bathe, Xiangcao muttered: “Dog filth, he said? I had a clear view the whole way — those stone paving slabs were perfectly clean. The only thing that might have left a mark would have been an ant.”

Luoyun paused, and then her irritation rose quietly. He had taken advantage of her blindness to play a trick on her.

That evening, when the two of them were alone in the room again, Luoyun said nothing and began laying out her bedding on the floor.

Han Linfeng raised a brow at this. “The bed is more than large enough. Why are you on the floor again? It’s already autumn — the nights are getting colder.”

Su Luoyun continued feeling her way through the bedding arrangements. “Surely a manor this size has a spare daybed somewhere. If there were one in this room, I would not need to sleep on the floor. Please do not concern yourself, Shizi — I will sleep on the floor tonight, and I would not dream of troubling you to give up the bed.”

Han Linfeng watched her in silence for a moment and gradually came to understand that Su Luoyun was in something of a silent sulk.

He walked over and crouched down beside her. “What are you unhappy about?”

Luoyun said nothing. She could hardly give Xiangcao away to the Shizi’s face.

But Han Linfeng thought for a moment and came to his own conclusion.

He stilled Luoyun’s fumbling hands, and said with perfect composure: “Is it because I deceived you today?”

Luoyun did not answer, which only confirmed it. He was fairly certain a certain maidservant had been doing some talking out of turn.

Han Linfeng simply sat down on the bedding, took both of Su Luoyun’s hands in his, and explained without the slightest trace of guilt: “I am a married man now, and in all of this enormous capital, you and Guiyan are the only two people who feel like family to me. When my heart is glad and I want to be close to family, what is wrong with that? If you could stop treating me like a stranger in the future, I would not have to keep finding flimsy excuses, and you would not have to quietly laugh at me.”

Luoyun knelt on the bedding and felt certain that not only her eyes had stopped working properly, but her ears as well — otherwise how was she supposed to make sense of whatever it was the Shizi was rambling about?

How could she and Guiyan be the only family he had in the entire capital? Did he think every member of the Han imperial clan in the city had simply ceased to exist?

But then — he had said he wanted to be close to her. What sort of remark was that? Had they not agreed before the wedding to be a marriage of convenience only?

When she brought up the agreement they had reached before the wedding, Han Linfeng said calmly: “I said I would let you adjust gradually and would not force anything on you. I never said I only wanted to be a husband in name. A fair and worthy lady — what gentleman does not wish to draw near? I am no different from other men in that regard.”

Su Luoyun had been shaped by years of dealing with the most cunning of merchants.

She had thought those traders in bulk fragrances were the most crafty people she would ever encounter. She had not imagined that the most crafty one of all would be hiding right here in Blue Fish Lane.

What was this? Was he tearing up their agreement and refusing to honor his word?

Her indignation was sharp enough that she found herself briefly unable to speak. Even when Han Linfeng reached out to give her back a calm, reassuring pat, she shook it off with force.

She steadied herself and took a slow breath. Well. She supposed her face was not altogether unpleasant. And this Shizi, however much of a pretense his idleness might be, was very much in the prime of his years and certainly had a man’s appetites.

He had taken a look at her and decided she was pleasing enough — so naturally he intended to make the most of what was already there.

She held back her temper and said stiffly: “I am living under your roof now. Every grace or punishment is yours to bestow, Shizi — it seems I was the one who was too naive, thinking you could abide by a gentleman’s agreement.”

At that moment, Han Linfeng suddenly pulled her to her feet and swept up the bedding from the floor.

Su Luoyun stiffened instinctively and gripped her collar. “What are you… what are you doing?”

Han Linfeng reached over and straightened her collar for her. Then he said, quite simply: “You are angry with me. I will not trouble you then. I will spend the night in the study. Get some rest.”

With that, he tucked the bedding under his arm and walked out.

Su Luoyun stood there with an entire speech of reproach prepared — and had nothing left to say it to.

What had he meant by that? One moment he had said he did not want a marriage in name only — and the next he had taken his bedding and left.

Was he trying to prove he was a man of honor, unwilling to press her into anything she did not wish for?

Alone in the room, Luoyun drank a long draft of cool tea, trying to settle the vexation of having been tricked.

His departure was good. She was simply this sort of person — unromantic and unresponsive. She hoped that henceforth he would not trouble himself to set foot in this room again.

And so it was that the new couple, only a few days into their marriage, came to sleep in separate rooms — as though they had quarreled rather badly.

Nanny Xi saw the light burning in the study, and smiled with quiet satisfaction. Han blood after all, she thought. The Shizi understood well enough who was above and who was beneath him. He had gotten past the novelty of the new and was already withdrawing from that girl of no standing.

This state of affairs went on for three days. The Shizi’s residence was not a particularly large household, yet somehow the two newly married occupants managed to go three full days without crossing each other’s path — something that gave the servants considerable food for thought.

On the morning of the fourth day, as Su Luoyun rose and began washing up, the maid Ji Qiu — who was carrying the water basin — seemed to have something to say but kept stopping herself.

When Luoyun had finished washing and sat before the dressing mirror while Xiangcao applied her face cream, Ji Qiu finally spoke in a low voice: “Shizi’s consort — would you perhaps consider bringing warm water to the study yourself? The Shizi will have finished his training by now and will need to wash up soon. Seeing you would surely please him.”

Ji Qiu had not, at first, held the consort she served in particularly high regard. But after the incident where Nanny Xi had used her as a pretext, had her slapped, and had nearly had her expelled from the inner courtyard — it had been this consort who had, in a few deft words, silenced the formidable Nanny Xi and sent her away without a further word.

In the inner quarters of a great household, a servant’s security depended entirely on choosing the right mistress. Ji Qiu, though grateful for the consort’s help, had not truly believed a blind young woman from a modest background could hold her ground in this household.

But Ji Qiu found herself in a difficult position now. Nanny Xi was still in residence, and with the Commandery Princess not yet married, the old woman had no reason to leave.

Nanny Xi had already taken a dislike to her. If the consort’s position weakened any further, Ji Qiu’s own fate would not be a pleasant one.

And so it was Ji Qiu who was most anxious about the Shizi and the consort sleeping apart. Her only option was to try the treatment reserved for a horse already given up on — she was considering whether to gently encourage the consort to soften her position a little.

Otherwise, at the rate the Shizi had historically rotated the women in his company, whatever warmth remained between them would dissolve on the wind before long.

Fortunately, the consort was someone who could be reasoned with.

After having Xiangcao apply a light dusting of powder and a touch of rouge, Su Luoyun said to Ji Qiu: “You are right. The nights have been chilly, and I do not know how well the Shizi slept. Prepare a copper basin of warm water for him. And have the kitchen brew a bowl of hot ginger and brown sugar congee for him. Xiangcao — come with me. We will go to the study and attend to the Shizi’s washing.”

Over the past few days, Luoyun had, in fact, thought things through clearly. She and Han Linfeng had gone through the proper wedding ceremonies. Whatever had been agreed beforehand, they were now, in every formal sense, husband and wife.

If she was going to sulk and make difficulties every time the Shizi held her hand or expressed an interest in her, she would not have a leg to stand on in any court in the land.