But the tranquility of those days in the capital was only a temporary calm.

Two prefectures in the north had yet to be reclaimed. Unfortunately, the autumn harvest season had arrived, and it was no time to be sending troops into the field. Moreover, the internal affairs of the Great Wei had not yet stabilized — the border could not afford another war — and so the recapture of those two prefectures had to be set aside for the time being.

The good news was that the Tiefa people had been driven into a large-scale northward retreat after their defeat. The northern territories were now relatively settled, and the herdsmen there could go about their days in peace. Even the sheep sent to the palace were noticeably plumper than usual.

The Zong Empress had been confined to the Buddhist prayer hall for over a month, and during that time had been required to observe a vegetarian diet. Now that she had at last been released, eating the black-wooled lamb from their home in Liangzhou for the first time again, she felt the corners of her eyes grow suddenly warm.

She swallowed a mouthful of the lamb meat and let out a long sigh to her daughter-in-law and daughter, who were dining with her. “Everyone seems to think coming to the capital is such a wonderful thing — but what is so wonderful about it? It still cannot compare to our Liangzhou. Even the meat from home tastes better there. In those days, sitting and chatting with the ladies of the various households, playing flower tiles, there were no airs to put on… Ah, when will we ever be able to go back to Liangzhou?”

Both Luoyun and Han Yao kept their heads bent over their bowls, the only way to suppress the laughter threatening to spill out.

Because the Zong Empress’s lament now was delivered in exactly the same tone as her longing for the capital during her years in Liangzhou.

Luoyun kept her head low, holding herself back with great effort until she had managed to smooth her expression. Only then did she lift her gaze and say: “If you enjoy it, Mother Empress, do eat more. There are still a few live sheep from home that have been penned up. When winter comes and the snow falls, we can put up a hot pot and eat the meat in thin-sliced pieces — that would be lovely.”

The Zong Empress sighed again. “That would be wonderful — though I do wonder whether the palace cooks can manage to replicate the dipping sauce with the Liangzhou chili flavor. This punishment I received was itself a miscarriage of justice. The whole affair proved that the Duchess of Junguogong was never a decent person — and she had the nerve to throw herself in a river? She wasn’t even afraid of contaminating the inner waterways. Because of her, I had to go and eat vegetarian food. When I see your father the Emperor, I absolutely intend to have a thorough discussion about this.”

There was no need for Luoyun to redirect her this time — Han Yao spoke up first. As she helped her mother select pieces of meat with her chopsticks, she said: “My dear Mother Empress, please do not go stirring things up with Father Emperor again. Back when our household was small, you and Father Emperor could close the door and argue and no one would be any the wiser. But now this is the imperial palace. Father Emperor holds the throne. If you go troubling him over every great matter and small, would you not just be making trouble for yourself?”

The Zong Empress shot her daughter a look, but she knew Han Yao was right. She let out another sigh, and said in a tone of resigned melancholy: “Nanny Zhou has spent countless hours lecturing me. I have heard more than enough of it. Must I now be scolded by a little girl like you as well?”

At that, she seemed to recollect something, and turned her gaze toward Luoyun, asking with a studied air of casualness: “Now that we have been in the capital for so long — I wonder whether anyone from your family has come to pay their respects?”

Luoyun answered honestly: “My father retreated to his hometown to escape the war. It seems he only returned to the capital a few days ago. I have not had the time to see him yet.”

The Zong Empress seized on this immediately and said in her most instructive tone: “You are with child now, quietly resting and nurturing the pregnancy in the palace — what could you possibly be busy with? How dare you speak of having no time to see your own father! Even now that you are a Crown Princess, you are still someone’s child — you cannot be unfilial. When you have a moment, have your father summoned into the palace. This Empress should meet the other family as well, and observe the proper courtesies.”

Luoyun turned it over briefly in her mind and made a fairly accurate guess as to why her mother-in-law had suddenly become so keenly interested in cultivating family feeling with the other side.

The Zong family had recently come to the capital seeking titles and rewards.

After all, when a daughter of the family made something of herself and became the Empress of the realm, the Zong clan had transformed overnight from disgraced officials who had resigned their posts into illustrious imperial relatives — and naturally they were eager to claim some share of the benefits.

But the Zong Empress had been in the Buddhist prayer hall at the time, unable to receive anyone.

Now that she had emerged, she was likely also aware of the Emperor’s feelings toward the Zong family — after all, in the earlier years, the whole household had endured years of belt-tightening and hardship to cover the hole left by her father’s debts.

Seeking titles and rewards for the Zong family alone would be difficult for the Zong Empress to put forward openly. But if she brought in her daughter-in-law’s family as well, surely the Emperor would not refuse to give his beloved Crown Prince even that much face.

With the Zong family and the Su family making their requests together, it would not look like favoritism.

Having worked out the Zong Empress’s intentions, Luoyun opened her mouth and said: “Mother Empress may not know my father’s character, but he is rather similar to Grandfather Zong — the moment money comes into view, he loses all sense of proportion and thinks nothing of the difficulties it creates for his children. I have been putting off seeing him deliberately. I am in no hurry. Though Linfeng is now Crown Prince, he still has to be careful about his conduct and give the censors no grounds to find fault with him. If my father decides that being an imperial relative means he can make whatever demands he pleases, and if he gives me thorny situations to deal with that bring a bad reputation down on Father Emperor and the Crown Prince — I will be the first person not to tolerate it.”

The Zong Empress felt a faint warmth creep into her cheeks at these words. Although Luoyun had pointed directly at her father Zong Qing’s mercenary nature, she could not take offense — because Luoyun had leveled the same criticism at her own father in the same breath. And what Luoyun said was the truth. Even the Zong Empress herself had to admit that when it came to greed for money, Zong Qing was something of a master practitioner.

Luoyun pretended not to notice her mother-in-law’s discomfort and continued: “At the moment, the Crown Prince is helping Father Emperor push through the land reform. Many landholders and wealthy gentry have been seeking special considerations and exemptions for themselves. As it happens, my father has a fair amount of land registered in his name. If I see him now and he makes a request, I will be in the wrong whether I agree or refuse — it is better to use this as an excuse not to see him, and wait until this particular storm passes.”

Speaking this directly was, in fact, Luoyun’s way of delivering a quiet warning to her mother-in-law.

Compared to the Zong family’s landholdings, Su Hongmeng’s were a small fraction. Knowing Zong Qing’s character, he had almost certainly not been honest about reporting his actual acreage. The fact that he and his son had come rushing urgently to see the Zong Empress was very likely because he wanted her to obtain an exemption from the land tax for him.

The Emperor and the great families had already been fighting tooth and nail over the land equalization matter. Every old noble house was watching for any slip or misstep on the part of the Crown Prince and the Emperor. If at this critical juncture the Empress were to put forward such an unreasonable request, the Emperor would certainly refuse — and this long-estranged husband and wife would be back to quarreling, with the Zong Empress at a complete disadvantage. She would only end up back in the prayer hall eating vegetarian food again.

But as a daughter-in-law, Luoyun could only say so much. Whether her mother-in-law listened was entirely up to her.

That afternoon, after Luoyun and Han Yao had taken their leave, the attendant Sheng Mama brought over several garments and asked the Empress which she wished to wear when she received the Zong family’s patriarch later that day.

The Zong Empress turned her string of prayer beads over and over in her hands with a restless, agitated air. She thought back over what her daughter-in-law had just said. In the end, she waved her hand impatiently. “Have the palace attendants send word that I came down with a chill in the Buddhist prayer hall and am feeling somewhat unwell — unfit for visitors. Tell them to go home for now, and I will summon them when I am recovered.”

Sheng Mama hesitated. “That… might not be entirely proper. The patriarch has been waiting for you a very long time, my lady. He only just learned you had left the prayer hall. From what the eldest young master of the Zong family said, the patriarch has been missing his daughter terribly lately, and his health has not been the best either…”

The Zong Empress gave her a sharp look. “You know perfectly well I have only just come out of the prayer hall. Are you trying to send me back in? When I tell you to pass a message, go quickly — why are you giving me all these unnecessary words?”

Seeing the Empress’s temper rising, Sheng Mama dared not say more — though she had accepted several dozen taels of silver from the Zong father and son as a consideration, and it seemed that on this occasion she was unable to speak a word on their behalf.

After watching Sheng Mama lower her head and withdraw, the Zong Empress turned to gaze at the rustling fallen leaves outside the window, and heaved another quiet sigh. “Liangzhou was better — one could see whoever one wished…”

The words Luoyun had used to steer her mother-in-law away from trouble were eventually relayed by Han Yao, passing through several hands until they reached the Emperor’s ear.

He was playing chess with Han Linfeng, who had just returned from the countryside.

The Emperor set down a piece with an unhurried air and said conversationally: “The Zong family arrived in force to collect their due. I had been bracing myself for your mother to come and make a fuss about it on their behalf — and then, before anything could happen, your wife put the whole thing to rest with a few offhand remarks.”

Han Linfeng smiled in reply. “That is hardly my wife’s doing. It is entirely Father Emperor’s imperial authority that gives Mother Empress cause to think twice.”

Han Yi waved a hand, his tone carrying a note of quiet regret. “In truth, I have always known I have owed your mother too much over the years. A woman who grew up pampered in the capital, married off to that poor corner of Liangzhou — how could she not have felt grievance in her heart? The day she came to greet me after leaving the prayer hall, her face seemed a good deal thinner. We have been husband and wife since long before any of this — I was pained by it too. As long as she knows when to press and when to step back, would I deliberately make her life difficult? She has given me a son and a daughter — even if that counts for nothing else, it counts for something.”

Since their arrival in the capital, Han Yi’s inner palace had been filled with a great many beautiful women. Though he had his share of calculated motive in this — appeasing the noble families — he was also a man with a man’s nature, and had spent a fair amount of time enjoying the company of that flower garden.

But once the initial novelty passed, what followed was the emptiness that comes after indulgence. Looking at one lovely young face after another — each able to gaze at him, this man already past middle age, and speak without a flicker of hesitation of their longing and admiration — the words were pleasant enough to the ear, yet always carried an undercurrent of something not quite right.

Han Yi was not like those imperial heirs raised in palaces from birth, who came into the world already certain that every beauty in the realm adored them. He had climbed up from the very bottom, and knew his own worth. He could read people and understand the world’s ways. He might enjoy the charm of beautiful companions, but he also understood perfectly well what was in those beauties’ hearts — nothing more than admiration for the title “Your Majesty,” and a desire to secure some advantage for their families.

Compared to all that calculated flattery and fawning, his first wife’s occasional unguarded, blunt, and sharp-tongued remarks carried a kind of unselfconscious honesty.

Understanding this, the Emperor had quietly instructed the head of the inner palace eunuchs: each of the women he had favored was to be given a contraceptive decoction.

He did not have many children, but the ones he had turned out reasonably well.

Han Yi also had no desire to add complications to what his eldest son would face upon ascending the throne. As for his younger son’s marriage, that had also been settled — the bride chosen was not the daughter of a noble family, but the youngest granddaughter of the deeply respected elder statesman and senior Hanlin academician, Zheng Boyi.

The Emperor had seen this young woman at the palace banquet. She was gentle and modest in bearing, and clever enough to conceal her own abilities — her poetry and literary talent plainly surpassed those of the other young women present, yet she had deliberately left small flaws in her work, never allowing herself to outshine others in a way that diminished them.

His younger son’s learning was half a jar of water — sloshing around making noise. Matching him with a genuinely accomplished young woman would at least show him his own limitations.

Han Xiao himself had expressed neither approval nor disapproval of his father’s arrangement. Since becoming an imperial prince, the number of people praising his literary talents had increased quite noticeably — even the poetry collection he had printed privately had begun to sell out in the capital’s bookshops, running through reprints night after night, suddenly hailed as a work of genius to rival the great poets of previous dynasties.

When he heard that his intended was the granddaughter of the great Confucian scholar Zheng Boyi, whom he had long held in esteem, the young prince gave a barely adequate nod to Miss Zheng’s appearance and the match was settled.

Afterward, when Han Xiao met Miss Zheng at a tea gathering, he had specially brought along a copy of his poetry collection and presented it to her for her esteemed commentary.

Miss Zheng was a modest and even-tempered person by nature, and felt it was not her place to pass judgment on an imperial prince’s work. So she passed the collection to her grandfather to look over.

Old Master Zheng Boyi, however, had not a shred of concern for the prince’s feelings. He picked up the fine-tipped brush he used to annotate his students’ compositions, and went through the entire collection with swift, sweeping strokes — circling every error in quotation and classical reference, every awkward or incoherent line of verse, throughout the whole unfortunate volume.

At the end, the old gentleman added a few earnest words of advice on the last page, urging the young prince in the most sincere terms not to lose himself in the praise of others — on the road of scholarship, he had barely even found the door yet.

When Miss Zheng returned the collection to Han Xiao along with her grandfather’s unsparing commentary, she had already mentally braced herself to be rejected by the imperial family.

Because as Han Xiao sat there leafing through the annotated pages in front of her, the color of his face shifted repeatedly between white and red, his expression a mixture of shame and fury.

Miss Zheng was so mortified she nearly twisted the handkerchief in her hands into rope. When Han Xiao finished reading, he looked at her with an expression of aggrieved indignation and asked whether she thought so little of him that she had deliberately arranged for her grandfather to humiliate him in this fashion. Did she not understand that a man of honor could sooner die than endure humiliation?

Miss Zheng felt that if she offered insincere praise now, it would make her grandfather appear to be a man of poor character. At this point, caught between a fine match and defending her grandfather’s honor, Miss Zheng unhesitatingly chose the latter.

True to the spirit of her family’s tradition, she answered honestly: she had meant nothing of the sort, and moreover did not feel that her grandfather’s remarks constituted any humiliation. If one wrote poetry and pursued scholarship simply in order to receive the world’s praise and approval, what distinction was there between that and a storyteller in a teahouse performing for coins? Without relentless refinement and the courage to press forward through difficulty, a so-called prodigy who simply appeared from nowhere was nothing more than someone seeking empty fame.

At this, Han Xiao’s complexion shifted directly to a greenish-yellow. He raised a finger and pointed it at her nose, but was so choked with fury that he could not produce a single word.

When Han Xiao returned to the palace that day, he issued an order for the eunuchs and palace maids to gather up every copy of his poetry collection that had not yet been given away and pile them all in the courtyard, then set them alight with a single torch. The resulting fire sent flames surging skyward.

The blaze was so spectacular that the guards on patrol through the palace grounds thought the palace itself was on fire and came running with gongs clanging, whistles blowing, and buckets of water in hand.

Even the Empress, who had only just lain down for the night, was so startled she nearly toppled out of bed.

Once the Zong Empress had gotten to the bottom of what had happened, she went to the Emperor and asked whether a different match could be arranged for Han Xiao. This Miss Zheng was simply too unsparing in her manner — and they were not even married yet; she had already driven her Xiao’er half to death. How on earth would they manage as husband and wife in the future?

The Emperor, however, was entirely unruffled. “Back in Liangzhou, you were always surrounding that boy with people who flattered his so-called two taels of talent, letting him run about thinking there was no sky above him — nothing but a frog at the bottom of a well. Now that he is in the capital, surrounded by real talent on every side — if he still does not understand his own depth, he will be an embarrassment to the imperial family of the Great Wei. This Miss Zheng of the Zheng household — I think she is excellent. She is willing to say what is true. In just a few days, she has already gotten Xiao’er to burn that worthless poetry collection of his. Well done. Well done indeed.”

The Zong Empress rolled her eyes nearly to the back of her head. She had a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue, but one glance at the gleaming imperial dragon robe on her husband’s person made her swallow it back. She could only say plaintively: “Other women at least get to put on airs as mothers-in-law. But when it comes to me — I have two sons, and the first one married a crafty little schemer who comes with her own abacus built in, and says things that cut you off at the knees every time she opens her mouth. Now I am about to acquire a second daughter-in-law who is a walking library, granddaughter of a great Confucian master. Does this mean that every word I speak in front of my second daughter-in-law will have to be in perfectly matched couplets? What is even the point of being a mother-in-law anymore?”

The Emperor looked up at her, and said in an even, unhurried tone: “Regardless of how much learning she has, she is still your daughter-in-law. You speak to her in Liangzhou dialect — I would like to see her dare put on scholarly airs back at you. A bride who is educated and well-mannered is always preferable to a bride who is willful and spoiled from a noble household. Have you not seen the deranged lengths that Fang the Second goes to? If you ever end up with a daughter-in-law like that, then you can sigh all you like.”

The Zong Empress thought of Fang Jinrou’s behavior and found herself nodding reluctantly in agreement. That was true enough — anyone who was unlucky enough to marry that sort of reckless, self-indulged woman would have real cause to lament.

It was at this moment that Han Yi said: “The imperial decree conferring titles on the Zong family — I have already drafted it. You are Empress of the realm. If your father and brother receive no recognition, your standing suffers as well. And so I intend to confer the title of Marquis of Careful Virtue upon your father, and bestow a lesser noble rank upon your brother, with a land grant and stipend befitting a first-rank marquis.”

Since the Zong Empress had shown good judgment — in not seeking to see her father and brother at this critical juncture of the land reform — Han Yi was willing to do his first wife the favor of conferring proper honors on her family.

Though he could not exempt their land from taxation, granting them additional land holdings in the award would more than compensate.

The Zong Empress had not expected the Emperor to take the initiative in conferring titles. She looked up in genuine surprise and delight. For the past several days, her father and brother had been sending messages through various intermediaries pressing to see her, and she had been struggling to hold them off.

She had never expected that Han Yi — who had once declared he would sever all ties with her father — would on his own accord confer a marquisate.

Though it carried no real authority, it at least gave her, as Empress, a proper face — and gave her a graceful excuse to offer her father and brother when they finally met.

She dropped to her knees at once and offered her thanks.

Han Yi told her plainly: “To be accurate, it was your shrewd, abacus-carrying elder daughter-in-law who pointed this out to me — she said you had been maintaining this pretense of illness to avoid seeing the Zong family, and that the effort was taking a toll on you. She asked me to think of some way to allow you to receive your father and brother with dignity. If you wish to give thanks, include your elder daughter-in-law in your gratitude.”

The Zong Empress was startled — this was the moment she realized that it had been Su Luoyun who had quietly arranged the title and reward for her family behind the scenes. And just moments ago she had been complaining to the Emperor that her eldest daughter-in-law was so difficult to deal with.

Her face burned with mild embarrassment. But when she left the Emperor’s chambers and returned to her own, she noticed the bolts of fabric that had just been sent over by the Palace Household Bureau. She turned and instructed her attendants: “First thing tomorrow morning, have the Palace Household Bureau send over some soft, supple material as well. The Crown Princess’s body is growing heavier by the day. According to custom, it falls to me, as her mother-in-law, to sew the first small belly band for my first grandchild.”

Sheng Mama hastened to say: “You are Empress of the realm now, my lady — such needlework is hardly fitting for you to take on yourself. For a small belly band, just leave it to the Palace Household Bureau to prepare.”

But before her voice had even faded, Nanny Zhou, who was standing to one side, voiced her disagreement in no uncertain terms: “What Her Majesty proposes is a demonstration of a senior family member’s loving care. Every stitch is a blessing for the imperial heir. You, a servant, have no business placing obstacles in her path. Palace family matters are affairs of state. Who gave you leave to speak out of turn? Have you not committed the palace regulations to memory properly?”

Nanny Zhou’s charge was not merely the correction of the Empress’s conduct — the comportment of every servant within the Jiankang Palace fell under the scrutiny of this female official.

In her assessment, the Zong Empress, though she sometimes muddled things, was largely led astray by the narrow-minded attendants and servants around her.

Sheng Mama in particular — though she had entered the palace, her perspective remained that of a minor household in a small provincial town, and she harbored a strange, inexplicable hostility toward the Crown Princess, slipping in bits of unfavorable talk from time to time.

If this behavior was not reprimanded and corrected early, would it not eventually cloud the Empress’s judgment and become a source of future trouble?

When Nanny Zhou had first been assigned to the palace by the Emperor, the Zong Empress had not thought much of her. But in time she had come to see that this fourth-ranked female official, though neither servile nor overstepping, always spoke with well-founded reasons, and was entirely capable of reporting genuine failings to the court censors to be set down on the record.

Throughout history, the Empresses who had been impeached were those whose speech and conduct had fallen short — caught on solid evidence, and then deposed by the Emperor as a consequence.

The Zong Empress had only just begun to savor the pleasures of her position, and had no wish to become a deposed Empress.

Just as the Emperor had to accept the oversight of the censors, so too did the Empress. Having experienced the prayer hall once, the Zong Empress had understood the stakes well enough. So when she heard Nanny Zhou reprimanding Sheng Mama, she pretended to be occupied searching for a spool of thread and said nothing.

The longer she spent among the noblewomen of the capital, the more she had come to appreciate the manner and conduct of great-household servants.

Occasionally, when the Empress was socializing with the various ladies, Sheng Mama would blurt out some thoughtless remark at a completely inappropriate moment. The other ladies, out of respect for her position as the Empress’s attendant, never said anything openly mocking — but the Empress herself had already begun to feel uncomfortable.

When it came to palace etiquette and deportment, it was Nanny Zhou and the palace maids she had trained who truly had the proper bearing. The Zong Empress made a quiet mental note: in a few days, she would find some pretext to send Sheng Mama back to Liangzhou with a sum of money, and let her enjoy her later years at home.

She could not very well allow a servant’s want of refinement to drag her own standing as Empress down with it.

When the belly band that the Empress had sewn with her own hands was delivered to the Crown Prince’s bedchambers, Luoyun looked at the careful, even stitches and understood that her mother-in-law had put genuine care into the work.

Xiangcao, seeing it too, said with feeling: “This kind of needlework is among the most painstaking there is. The Empress has truly given of herself. I heard from Nanny Zhou, who came to deliver it, that the Empress spent several days on this embroidery alone. Crown Princess — you have finally won something real in return, with sincerity meeting sincerity.”

Luoyun smiled and had the maid put the little belly band away safely. Then she looked around at Xiangcao, Ji Qiu, and Huai Xia, and said: “I heard that the Empress has sent Sheng Mama back to Liangzhou. It reminded me of something rather important. None of you are young girls anymore. If you spend too many years here in the palace, finding a suitable match when you leave will become more and more difficult. I am going to ask the young General Zhao to look among the soldiers for some young men of good character for you. If any of you have other ideas of your own, you are welcome to tell me.”

Xiangcao and Ji Qiu were both startled by this. Xiangcao in particular felt the rims of her eyes grow red. “Young Miss — is there something I have done wrong? Are you sending me away?”

She was genuinely flustered — so much so that the old form of address, “Young Miss,” slipped out before she could stop it.

Xiangcao was not, in truth, the sharpest of maids. Her words were sometimes careless and impulsive. But Luoyun had kept her at her side all along.

Because Luoyun could not forget: during the darkest and most helpless stretch of her life, it had been Xiangcao and Nanny Tian who had stayed by her without a word of complaint, willingly following her back to the countryside.

Clever maids were everywhere to be found. But no one could match Xiangcao’s wholehearted loyalty.

Now that Nanny Tian was elderly, she had followed them back to the capital, and at the Crown Prince’s arrangement had retired to enjoy her final years in comfort. Her two grandsons had since been placed in the Palace Household Bureau with positions as purchasing attendants.

As for Xiangcao and the other maids, Luoyun naturally had no intention of leaving them to grow old in service — she fully intended to do her best to arrange good lives for them.

Huai Xia, however, stood to one side in silence, her expression visibly conflicted.

Luoyun knew she could not spare anyone just yet, and had been planning to settle the engagements for the maids first, then organize the wedding arrangements after she had delivered the child.

But Huai Xia — she could not be kept waiting any longer.