Qin Gongyang’s expression was pleasant and amicable, as though the Qin and Hua families were still as close as they had always been. He gestured toward the spirit house and said, “It has been ready for some time. It was placed at Dazhuosi Temple to be blessed by the incense smoke there. I had originally intended to bring Master Boruo along when I came, but it turned out you had sent someone to invite him a few days prior — so we simply came together.”

“Ah, I see. I had thought the two of you had happened to meet by chance.” Hua Zhi stepped forward a few paces to greet Master Boruo. “I must trouble you again this time.”

Master Boruo glanced at the prayer beads on her wrist, then clasped his hands together and recited a Buddhist blessing in a gentle tone.

“I have had a quiet room prepared. I invite you and the other masters to rest there first. When the hour arrives, we will set out.”

“Benefactress Hua is most considerate.”

The gathered company of monks — heads shaved to every size — followed Steward Xu as they filed away. Hua Zhi turned to Qin Gongyang, who still stood in place. “It is cold outside. Please go in and rest, Maternal Grand-Uncle.”

Li De stepped forward at once to extend the invitation.

Qin Gongyang also understood that one could not move too hastily — and certainly could not be the one to go first. He smiled and nodded. “Do not stand out here in the courtyard either. The snow melting on you is miserable enough.”

“I will go in.”

This had always been Hua Zhi’s plan, so she turned at once and walked toward the covered walkway. The ease of her compliance caught Qin Gongyang off guard. He had not supposed, as his mother had, that the Qin Family’s overtures of goodwill meant Hua Zhi should be grateful and obliging — he had come prepared to say a few conciliatory words and offer some degree of apology. This ready compliance, so natural and unguarded, was disorienting.

But the disorientation lasted only a moment. Qin Gongyang, turning over his thoughts, followed Li De toward the main reception hall.

Soon after, the Xia Family, Wu Family, and Qi Family all arrived in quick succession. The women were led by Nanny Su toward the inner courtyard; the men were guided by Li De to the reception hall.

Shortly after came the wife of Chen Dayi, who also brought word of Chen Dayi’s whereabouts: “He said he would check in at the office and then come straight here. He is likely not far behind me.”

“Master Chen is most considerate.”

Then came Master Mu and Master Zheng. Their connection to the Hua Family was of a different sort, and they did not join the bustle in the reception hall — instead they walked shoulder to shoulder toward the clan school, thinking to use the time to tidy up the study.

Then came Shen Qi from the Shen Family, Lu Boxi from the Lu Family, Jiang Huanran from the Jiang Family. From the Cai Family, Hua Qin arrived, visibly with child, together with her husband. Yu Xia Sheng came. The Liu Family, the Peng Family, the Qi Family — and on it went. Those who could claim some connection came, and those who could not forced a connection and came as well. The Hua Family’s long-cold and desolate doorstep took on something of the feeling of a stream of carriages and horses.

The Zhu Family arrived comparatively late. Old Madam Zhu spotted Hua Zhi and immediately explained: “We thought it would be lively today, so we came a little later on purpose.”

Hua Zhi curtsied to her maternal grandmother, then to the two uncles, aunts by marriage, and cousins who had come behind her. She had not expected the Zhu Family to bring so many people — though she was not surprised that Zhu Shan had not come.

“It is indeed very lively.” Hua Zhi smiled. “Do not bother with all of this — please go to my mother quickly. She must have been watching and waiting for a long while.”

“Always teasing your mother.” Old Madam Zhu gave her forehead a gentle tap, smiling in spite of herself. “The hour is nearly upon us. Go see to your duties.”

The women followed toward the inner courtyard. The Zhu Family’s two uncles had no interest in the crowded reception hall, and stood instead along the covered walkway, both their gazes falling on Hua Zhi as she calmly directed everything.

“When Mother used to joke that Zhi’er was short and no one knew who she took after, I would argue that she was not short at all. Looking now — she really is not tall. Yet every single person around her is taller and more solidly built.”

Zhu Haocheng laughed. “Now that you mention it — how is it that I never noticed before?”

Watching his elder brother observe with nothing more than amused interest and not an ounce of concern, Zhu Haodong swallowed what he had been about to say. If they were not walking the same road, there was no use in more words. Zhi’er’s character was one that drew sharp lines between gratitude and grievance — his elder brother could see the cost the Qin Family had paid and still not see that he was heading down the same path to become a second Qin Family.

Well — perhaps not, actually. Knowing Zhi’er’s way of doing things, she would simply cut this eldest maternal uncle out of her circle of interests, while her treatment of the rest of the Zhu Family would remain unchanged. The elder brother who fancied himself so clever had not noticed how many new white hairs their mother had grown in recent months, nor that their father’s sighs had grown more frequent.

Suppressing a quiet sigh of his own, Zhu Haodong turned to look toward the inner gate, from which signs of movement had begun to emerge. The Hua boys — tender as young saplings — filed out one by one in their matching plain white clothes, each carrying a small basket in hand. Whatever they held inside, he could not quite make out.

Hua Zhi saw them too, but she did not go forward. She simply stood there watching as Bailin organized them.

Hua Bailin understood what his eldest sister meant. He swallowed, willing his heartbeat to slow, then gave a sweeping bow to all who were present, and walked with great solemnity to stand before Master Boruo. He bowed deeply. “We trouble you, Master, to accompany us.”

Master Boruo studied the children carefully. He consented readily. He had seen them on this same day the previous year — they had been bewildered and helpless then. Now their eyes were steady and resolute, carrying a weight of responsibility. Word that had spread beyond these walls only spoke of the Hua Family’s eldest young mistress as someone who could turn stone to gold, a person of rare and heavenly gifts. In his view, what was most truly worthy of praise was her way of governing the household. The living vitality that filled the Hua Family was something rarely seen.

In the courtyard, the offerings of spirit tea and tribute fruit had been arranged. Incense smoke curled in ribbons, and as the low, rhythmic sounds of monks chanting filled the air, the household members knelt in reverence. When the rites concluded, the spirit house was lifted with great care, and the Hua children, walking in pairs with hands clasped together, followed behind it through the wind and snow toward the Hua Family ancestral graves.

The scene had a power that struck straight to the heart. Even those present who harbored selfish motives could not help but feel a stab of sorrow in their chests. The Hua Family had once been a name renowned throughout the realm — a family of incomparable refinement and honor — yet in the end, all that remained was a small band of children holding the gates. If the late patriarch Hua Jingyan could see this from beyond…

Yet no matter how great the shock, it would pass. When quiet returned to the courtyard and each person gathered their own thoughts again, that pang of sorrow was suppressed. After all, what matter belonging to another family could ever weigh heavier than one’s own affairs?

Almost simultaneously, every gaze turned toward the far end of the covered walkway where the Hua Family’s eldest young mistress stood alone — cool and still as the air itself. Yet not one person broke the silence first. By now, who in this city did not know that the Hua Family’s eldest young mistress was not to be trifled with? They had all just seen the Sixth Prince walking among the Hua children as though he belonged there — his closeness to her needed no words. At this moment, not one of them wished to be the first to step forward and give Hua Zhi cause to single them out.

Ying Chun hurried to her young mistress’s side. “This servant asked around. The baskets the young masters carried held a few small things they had prepared themselves, along with words they had written for Old Madam. After the rites, they will be burned together with the spirit house.”

Hua Zhi was somewhat surprised. “Who suggested it? Did they hear something?”

“It was the Seventh Young Master. He overheard Fourth Madam and Third Madam wondering whether the Qin Family might bring extra things and whether the family should prepare something of their own. He remembered that, and together with all the young masters, prepared one item each.”

Hua Zhi pressed her fingertips to the bridge of her nose, quietly expelling the welling emotion that had risen in her chest.

Ying Chun pulled her young mistress’s hood more snugly into place, her own eyes reddening as she said, “The young masters are all so sensible. You have not taught them in vain.”

Hua Zhi smiled. Yes — all of them, so sensible. In time they would only grow more so.

And now — it was her battlefield.

Hua Zhi looked across at the crowd watching her from a distance and, pulling her cloak close, walked toward them. Was this not simply the sort of scheming, calculating back-and-forth she had weathered before? She had lived through it all — when had she, Hua Zhi, ever been afraid? Not once!