Wei Yushan accepted the peace amulet from Qinglan.

But he also asked the question.

The question he had wanted to ask since four years ago. Even after returning to the capital, he had still wanted to ask — but four years had passed, and he was no longer the Wei Yushan who could speak plainly with Qinglan. He was filled with anger, recklessness, and resentment, and could no longer speak with Ye Qinglan in any civil way.

Now his rage had gradually subsided, and he had finally found it in himself to ask.

“Elder Sister Ye — why did you break off your engagement with Cui Jingyu?”

Qinglan remained entirely calm. Her hands did not even tremble at the question.

“Did he send you to ask?”

“No.” Wei Yushan felt the old urge to be contrary, but suppressed it — A’Cuo was probably watching from inside the room: “You forget — you said the Ye family and the Cui family have broken off all contact. He would never come and ask you.”

“Then there is nothing to be done,” said Qinglan, still with a faint smile. “That question, I will only answer to him.”

—

On the first day of the New Year, without question, the most prominent noble family in the capital was the Shen family.

Among the capital’s non-imperial aristocracy, the highest position belonged naturally to the household of the Duke of Yingguo, where the Grand Princess presided. Next came the four princely households and the house of the Duke of Yongguo. And among those below the rank of duke and marquis, the most eminent was the household of His Excellency Shen the Secretary.

Excellency Shen served in the Ministry of Personnel — the most powerful of the Six Ministries. His former students and protégés were scattered throughout the realm; he himself was the foremost leader of the civil officials at court. Shen Furen was the only daughter of the Duke of Yongguo. Of their two children born of the principal wife, Shen Yunze was a refined scholar — third-ranked in the imperial examinations — currently training at the Hanlin Academy. In a few years he would be posted to Yangzhou to oversee the salt works on the court’s behalf, then recalled to the capital, arriving just in time to take over the foundations his father had built and extend the Shen family’s influence for another twenty years.

As for Shen Biwei — her excellence was evident to all. Moreover, the Duke of Yongguo adored this little granddaughter above all others, and people privately speculated that when the Duke passed on, a considerable share of the household’s fortune would likely go to Shen Biwei as a dowry. Though Shen Biwei’s temperament was somewhat unusual, her beauty and talent were beyond reproach — and it seemed clear she would, if she did not enter the palace, at least make a very distinguished match.

Such a resplendent family as the Shens had naturally married well in turn. Their daughter-in-law was Han Yueqi — the only principal-born daughter of Lord Han, the Deputy Director of the Court of Imperial Entertainments. At their wedding, even the Emperor had sent congratulatory gifts, and the inscribed plaque hung at the entrance of the inner courtyard to this day — which had even outshone the wedding of Princess Pingjun’s consort.

On the first day of the New Year, the Shen household was thronged with visitors. Former students, old family connections, lifelong friends came in an unbroken stream. Official sedan chairs and carriages and horses blocked the entire street in front of the main gate. The male guests were clamorous enough, but the female guests were no less so — and since it was the season of the Flower Season Banquet, the female guests actually mattered more. Shen Furen had thrown open the main hall to welcome and seat them, a flowing succession of ladies in full formal dress, and Shen Furen, accompanied by Han Yueqi and Shen Biwei, could barely keep up with receiving them.

At such a time, Han Yueqi had not neglected Ye Lingbo and Yanyan either. Though she could not receive them personally, she still sent Shen Biwei to welcome them properly and usher them into her own Sandalwood Pavilion, where they sat warmly drinking tea until Shen Furen had a moment of respite, at which point she brought them over to pay their New Year’s respects. Shen Furen naturally presented red envelopes, and seeing how truly adorable Yanyan was, gave her an extra one — a small golden Arhat figure, said to bless for peace, perfect for children to wear.

By nearly noon, Han Yueqi finally had a little time to come and greet Ye Lingbo. Upon meeting, naturally they exchanged bows. Lingbo was the younger, so she called her “Elder Sister Han” and bowed. Han Yueqi smiled: “Since when has our Lingbo been so well-mannered? It must be because it’s the New Year.”

Ye Lingbo understood perfectly well that she was referring to the matter of her scheme against the Lu sisters. Strictly speaking, although Shen Biwei was on good terms with her, the two of them actually differed in perspective on many things. It was Han Yueqi whose temperament was most aligned with hers — both fond of giving a thorough comeuppance to those who had mistreated their own people.

Unfortunately, Han Yueqi was too occupied today for a lengthy conversation. Lingbo said only a little, remarking: “I imagine the Chen family will not be having a pleasant New Year.”

“Word is there was a fire in their inner quarters — Chen Furen has been quarreling quite a bit with Lu Wenyin over the daughter matter.” Han Yueqi lowered her voice in reminder: “You should be more careful and watchful lately. Lu Wenyin is manageable enough, but Lu Wanyang has some real ability — she is a learned woman, after all. She may have moves you haven’t anticipated.”

“Qinglan is a learned woman too. Why does she still go around with her hands tied?” Lingbo only smiled serenely. In truth, she had been racking her brain until her head throbbed — but she was a great deal too proud to admit it, especially in front of Han Yueqi.

“By the way — Qinglan must have forgotten to mention it to you. We’re hosting a New Year Spring Reception this year, and the date has been set. The invitation will be with you in a couple of days.”

“The Spring Reception — isn’t that around the fifth?” Lingbo was startled. “How can it be that soon?”

“Furen’s health has been worsening this year, and she fears she won’t last through the later Crabapple Banquet or the Peach Blossom Banquet. She thought it better to hold it early, before anything else comes up.” Han Yueqi was managing the affairs of two households in one: “Never mind. My mother’s family still has one banquet of their own. My sister-in-law is a gentle and timid sort, and my mother will need me to go back and manage things. We’ll pick one more — either the Peach Blossom or the Paulownia Blossom Banquet. There will be no lack of good theater.”

At that hint, Lingbo immediately laughed — after all, she was now in the open about this before Shen Biwei: “Then I want to hear ‘The Continuation of the Red Thread.'”

“All right, all right, you shall have it.” Han Yueqi had spent the morning receiving a great many distinguished ladies — working the room with grace and ease, busy throughout — and now she felt something of the quiet satisfaction of a general who has just won a hard-fought battle: “Once I get through this stretch, let’s focus properly on hosting one banquet. We don’t have to stop at ‘The Continuation of the Red Thread’ — we could even put on ‘The Phoenix Finds Its Mate.'”

The two exchanged a glance and smiled — both perfectly understood the other’s meaning. Nearby, Shen Biwei was reading and, catching sight of their expressions, couldn’t help saying with distaste: “Looking at you two, a duet about mutual scheming would suit you just fine.”

“Listen to this,” Ye Lingbo immediately stirred the pot: “And she is your sister-in-law. How can you speak of her like that? Shouldn’t you say something?”

“Nothing to be done — it’s the first day of the New Year. One doesn’t discipline children on this day.” Han Yueqi smiled pleasantly. “All right, I still need to arrange things for the dinner guests. Will you eat here or go over to the main hall?”

“The main hall is too noisy. No thank you.” Shen Biwei said dismissively. “I’ll take her to eat in my courtyard.”

“You’re not making any progress yourself, and now you’re pulling me down with you,” Lingbo teased her — then seeing Shen Biwei on the verge of an outburst, quickly pacified her: “All right, all right, I’m just playing. Come on, let’s go to the private kitchen. We’ll have them make golden tripe for Elder Sister — the last time at my house it wasn’t done right. Too greasy.”

“Golden tripe is supposed to be greasy,” said Shen Biwei. “We can’t make it properly here either. Only the palace banquet version is decent, but even that isn’t very good — the things the palace loves to eat are honestly not that flavorful…”

“And you call yourself a daughter of a great family, with taste like that,” Lingbo laughed at her.

“The greater the family, the more this kind of taste,” Han Yueqi said, also laughing. “Biwei is sensitive to heat. She barely touches anything. At palace banquets she only eats a little chicken broth over rice. Her Majesty the Empress saw it and said that was a distinguished disposition — said children raised in the palace were all like that. Speaking of which, actually, the Fifth Prince…”

Though she was Shen Biwei’s sister-in-law, she was in many ways a half-elder-sister too. When she reached that point and saw Shen Biwei’s face immediately turn cold, she could only offer a soothing smile.

“All right, all right. No more of that. You two go eat. I’ll have someone bring something over to you later — you can take it directly to Qinglan.”

“Using me as an errand-runner again. What wonderful thing is it this time, always so mysterious? Oh — and I have something to tell you.”

“Good. Once I’ve seen the guests off, I’ll come find you.”

—

Apart from the Wei family, Wutong Courtyard received no visitors particularly worth noting — most were old acquaintances from the days when Lady Ye had still been alive. Qinglan held the household while Lingbo made the rounds of New Year’s calls, and by the third day they had called on nearly everyone. On the fourth they went to the Meng family, which was now entirely under Concubine Su’s rule, and felt rather cold — Lingbo said nothing about it, sat for a short while, and left. Passing the Glazed Pavilion where Meng Furen had once lived, now occupied by Concubine Su, she noticed that even the crabapple tree that used to stand by the window had been cut down. What a pity — it had been such a fine old tree. In years past, Meng Furen had held a crabapple-viewing banquet that was hosted beneath that very tree.

A’Cuo managed well enough, but Niangzi Lin was somewhat heartbroken — she stood staring at the tree stump, unable to take her eyes away. Lingbo saw this and comforted her: “Niangzi Lin, don’t grieve. Circumstances change — if we save up enough silver, the day will come when we can buy it back.”

Even Niangzi Yang couldn’t help laughing at that: “This is an official household’s residence, my young mistress — not a shop.”

“So what if it’s an official household?” Lingbo said evenly. “Lord Huang the Deputy Minister’s family had a consort in the palace, and still ended up selling their home to Cui Jingyu. Tales of households failing to preserve their wealth past three generations — the capital has plenty of them. We’ll simply wait and see.”

Little did she know those words would prove prophetic — and fall upon the very person she least wished misfortune upon.