The Qin Family’s patriarch, Qin Peiliang, held the position of Deputy Minister of the Court of the Imperial Stud, ranking at the fourth grade — not a low position, but not especially weighty among the capital’s officials. Compared to the Qin Family in its prime, the household had already seen a decline.

In the current generation, Qin Gongyáng had fared reasonably well in officialdom, yet still fell somewhat short. And so it was that Qin Peiliang — ordinarily a mild-tempered and unhurried man — had lost his composure so entirely upon learning of what his wife had done, sparing her not a shred of dignity.

On a personal level, his younger sister had only just passed — and the Qin Family had already adopted an air of going their separate ways. From the standpoint of propriety alone, it was indefensible. On a public level, it was through their doing that the two families had grown estranged — and it was fortunate the rift had not lasted long enough to exhaust all the goodwill built over many years, or no amount of words would have been enough.

When Qin Peiliang thought about how Hua Zhi had only loosened her grip a little and brought such an enormous opportunity to the Qin Family, he could barely sit still.

“Old Master, the eldest young miss has arrived.”

The door curtain rustled. Qin Peiliang looked toward the grand-niece by marriage who walked with none of the mincing steps typical of young ladies. The last time he had seen her was at his younger sister’s funeral — the eldest daughter of the main branch, who had made almost no impression on him at all, had stood up when everyone else had crumbled. She had arranged everything with steady composure, soothed the whole household, and it was in that moment he had thought her capable. Yet who could ever have imagined what she would accomplish in the year that followed — enough to ensure no one would ever dare look down on her again.

By now, not a single person still believed the Hua Family would fall.

“Zhi’er pays her respects to Grand-uncle-in-law.”

“Come and sit.”

Hua Zhi sat in the lower seat and looked up at her grand-uncle-in-law — broad and heavyset, he carried the look of a man who had lived comfortably, yet his features were still refined and scholarly, unlike other stout men who tended to appear coarse and fleshy.

“In future, when going out, bring more people with you. Times are not what they once were.”

“If cousin’s wife had not just mentioned it, I would not have known there are people in the capital who actually dare to marry me.” Hua Zhi accepted the tea and blew on it gently, then laughed. “Do they think I would meekly follow whoever I marry, as other women do, and have no recourse against them? That they could place me on an altar like an idol, take in as many concubines as they pleased, and go drinking at the pleasure houses whenever the mood struck — all while I sat there powerless? What sort of daydream is that?”

The words were sharp indeed — yet this manner of frankness was exactly what Qin Peiliang found pleasing. The closer the relationship, the more at ease one could be, and the more one’s true nature showed through.

“That is precisely what they had in mind. After learning of their intentions, I had someone look into it. What they were saying was that they would place you on a pedestal — give you standing, give you authority, give you children — and in exchange have you dedicate yourself wholeheartedly to the benefit of their family.”

“A fine scheme. For a woman, children are the most effective binding — but unfortunately, they will have no chance.” Hua Zhi barely needed to think to see right through their plans; she could even guess that some might resort to underhanded means to destroy her reputation, all in hopes of achieving their aim. They were in for a disappointment, however. They had miscalculated one person.

Come to think of it, the number of attendants following her around these past few days had indeed increased. Which meant Yanxi must already know — he knew, and had not told her. She would deal with him when she got home.

Qin Peiliang cautioned her, “Do not be overconfident. The danger is that they may turn to covert means if the direct approach fails. Better to stay on guard.”

“Yes. You may rest easy — I hold them in contempt, but I do not underestimate them.”

“That is the right approach. The world is never short of vile people or vile deeds. One can only hope not to encounter them oneself.” Qin Peiliang regarded the young woman whose expression had not shifted throughout. “I have sounded out several families. Whatever contest they wage in the open is their own affair — but should anyone resort to underhanded tactics, the Qin Family will not stand by and do nothing. Even so, such things are impossible to guard against entirely, and the Qin Family’s influence is not what it once was. Unless it is absolutely necessary, try to go out as little as possible — or perhaps consider petitioning His Majesty. At this point you do have some measure of merit to your name; if you petition for protection, he would likely not refuse.”

The idea of petitioning His Majesty had not entered Hua Zhi’s mind for even a moment. Far more than that sovereign, she trusted the people Yanxi had placed at her side — and the array of medicines Shao Yao had left her.

This was not the moment to explain any of that. Hua Zhi answered in vague, noncommittal terms and let the subject pass.

Qin Peiliang assumed she had already formed a plan of her own, and moved on to asking after the younger members of the Hua household, then enquired after Hua Yizheng and the others at Yin Shan Pass before he let her go.

Declining the Qin Family’s offer of escort guards, Hua Zhi paid closer attention on the journey back — and found that there were indeed more people around her than usual. Even Wang Rong, who would normally never show his face, was walking alongside the carriage today with a sword at his hip. That openly displayed ferocity gave Hua Zhi pause. Had there already been something that happened before now, enough to warrant this level of a show of force?

She was still turning the thought over when the carriage suddenly drew to a halt. A moment later, Bao Xia’s voice came from outside. “Miss, Master Jiang says he wishes to request an audience.”

Hua Zhi glanced at Nanny Su, who was riding in the carriage with her. Nanny Su understood at once and lifted the curtain.

Hua Zhi looked toward the figure not far away. It had been some time since she had seen him — he appeared to have grown somewhat more steady and composed.

Jiang Huanran dismounted, walked up to the carriage, and clasped his hands in a bow. “Has the eldest young miss been keeping well?”

“Quite well. Master Jiang is looking very fine himself.”

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Jiang Huanran glanced around at those nearby, lowered his voice, and said, “I have something to say to the eldest young miss, if I may be permitted a private word.”

“If it concerns the marriage proposals from various families, I already know.”

Jiang Huanran bit down on his back teeth, and the words came rushing out. “I… still hold the eldest young miss in my heart. Before coming here, I made my father give me his promise — if the eldest young miss agrees, we can live independently, without listening to anyone in the Jiang Family. I — I will not fail the eldest young miss. I will not seek any other. There will be no concubines, no secondary women in the household. I — I will work harder and strive to be better, so that I will not disappoint you…”

Hua Zhi watched this young man — who had once been a carefree and dissolute son of the gentry — make his pledge with stumbling, halting words, yet with utter gravity. She could see the resolve in him, and she believed he truly would have been willing to stand against his own family for her sake. She was moved. Yet it was nothing more than that — only moved.

“I am deeply honoured to have become the reason you chose to strive for better. But I am sorry — I will not place my whole life, nor the Hua Family, into anyone else’s hands. If I am ever to marry, it will not be because I need that person’s protection. It will be because we love each other — with nothing to do with status or standing, nothing to do with all those things the others are competing over. Only because I am Hua Zhi.”

She lowered her head a moment, then looked up. Hua Zhi spoke gently. “I say this not to speak ill of you — it is precisely because I think well of you that I want to be clear with you. Thank you for trying every means to protect me. The sentiment I cannot accept, but the goodwill — that I receive with gratitude.”

She pressed her hand to her chest and smiled. “This sincere care you have shown me — I will keep it safe.”

From inside the carriage, Hua Zhi leaned forward in a bow. Thank you. But I am sorry.

Jiang Huanran covered his eyes. He had known. He had always known there was no chance for him. That man from Xiangyang — he still remembered him. Yet one had to try, had to fight for it — only then, when the memory came back in years to come, would there be nothing to regret.

A woman like this — a woman like this — could not belong to him.

But to have left a mark upon her heart in this way — perhaps that, too, was a kind of success.

Jiang Huanran lowered his hand. His eyes were rimmed with red, yet he turned to Hua Zhi with a brilliant, open smile. “The eldest young miss is as forthright as ever. I envy that person very much.”

Hua Zhi smiled back, warmth in her eyes.

Jiang Huanran turned abruptly and mounted his horse, leaving not a single word behind as he rode away.