Though she joked, steadying the situation required a tremendous effort.

The pattern of the capital’s social landscape had always been one of the Shen and Chen families balanced against each other. In ordinary times this was tolerable, but now that the Shen family had suffered so conspicuous a calamity, the Chen faction naturally lost no time in pressing the advantage. It wasn’t enough that they themselves left — they also worked to take with them a number of ladies who had previously been neutral. Their words sounded pleasant enough: “The Shen family is in the middle of a crisis — could we stay and add to the confusion? If it were thought we had come to watch the spectacle, that would not do. Besides, the status of these ladies is so distinguished — the Grand Princess herself has departed; honored guests should take care of their dignity. If they were to be troubled by any further unpleasantness, it would be most unfortunate. Let us go too — once the Shen family has sorted things out, there will be time enough to return.”

Lu Wenyin was born to persuasion, and she had her pack of hangers-on besides. Today’s great victory had them all energized and eager to press on, and between them they convinced several tables of ladies to leave in quick succession.

In the most difficult moments, one had to hold firm. The luncheon banquet had already been one embarrassment. If the evening banquet should see half the seats empty, it would make the Shen family appear even more unable to maintain control of the situation. To use the language of household stewardesses: one might lose one’s footing but not one’s composure. If the evening’s flower banquet could conclude with warmth and completeness, what outsiders would say in the end was only that Shen Young Master had shown poor judgment, and had wounded Han Yueqi’s dignity. But if the evening banquet should be sparse and desolate, then Han Yueqi’s competence and standing would both come into question — her position in the circle of the capital’s ladies would be shaken.

Lord Shen’s distinction at court was an external matter. The affairs of the inner household, though dependent on a man’s standing at court, had their own separate set of standards. One need not look far for an example — Lady He was right there. Lord He was a rising star at court, with momentum threatening to rival the Shen and Chen families — and yet Lady He could not establish herself, so the He household still suffered embarrassment at the flower banquets. Their Plum Blossom Banquet had been held for nothing, and compared to Lu Wanyang’s triumphant spring, He Qingyi’s marriage prospects remained without the slightest trace of progress.

So the evening banquet was the crux of everything. To manage it well was, at best, a belated remedy — to fail at it would be a complete rout.

Such are the world’s hardships. Yet hard as they are, they must still be done. Qinglan had not exerted herself at a flower banquet for several years, yet today she still walked with her head high into the warm side room where Wei Furen had gone to rest.

Inside, it was lively. Lu Wenyin, Yang Qiaozhen, and Sun Minwen were all there with Wei Furen, pressing their arguments with all their might. Luo Furen, Jiang Miaolan — these were the Northern Suppression Army wives who had mocked her at Wei Furen’s gathering — and a number of middle-aged ladies there to add to the merriment. And Qinglan came alone.

“Young Mistress,” said even Chun Ming, hesitating — for all that they said a mistress and her servants share one mind, and rare though it was for Chun Ming to show such uncertainty, her nature being so composed.

“It is nothing.” Qinglan only smiled faintly.

Lu Wenyin had already seen her. She nestled close to Wei Furen’s side and gave Qinglan a challenging smile.

It was said that at the flower banquet of those years, the three of them had been the uncontested three finalists — and yet because of Qinglan’s unexpected failure to marry, the outcome had never been decided.

Let today serve as the conclusion to what was left unfinished four years ago.

She had heard that he had once led five hundred men in a night assault on an enemy camp of ten thousand in the northern frontier. Though the news had reached her half a year late, it still struck her breath from her body.

He and she — it was always like this. In the hardest battles, they could never fight side by side.

Qinglan smiled faintly, and walked into the warm side room.

—

Wei Furen watched Qinglan walking toward her, and felt a brief dislocation.

Her health had not been strong, and her bond with her children had been thin — she had been especially slow to have a daughter, yet loved daughters most of all. The first time she had seen Qinglan at a flower banquet, she had been immediately charmed. But that was old history. Four years ago, which lady of the capital had not been charmed by Ye Qinglan? She had been the model of what a daughter of a great family should be: dignified and gracious, yet possessed of a gentle warmth — almost of compassion — firm beneath the softness, never servile, never overbearing, attentive to every propriety. She was everything every lady dreamed of in a daughter.

Her only thought had been that Jingyu was fortunate beyond measure.

She had even felt a private pang of inadequacy. She knew she was not the finest of ladies. She had come from a military family, her mother dying young, her father knowing only the drill ground — no one had taught her the management of an inner household. Her domestic management left much to be desired, and the household had even known times of genuine scarcity. What she had was only a whole heart — the willingness to stand behind the man who had then been merely a general and support his every decision, to love his troops as her own children alongside him, and to give away everything they had.

Cui Jingyu had grown up in her household. Marshal Wei had been mentor and father to him both. If Ye Qinglan was the daughter she dreamed of having, then Cui Jingyu was in truth half a son to her — she had watched this orphaned young man grow step by step, displaying astonishing gifts, becoming a tall and striking young man, and bringing home a dignified young woman from the flower banquet, one who called her “Mentor’s Wife” with a shy and gentle smile.

Everything she felt for Ye Qinglan, she had poured into without reservation. She had even gone ahead and selected a courtyard for them in Yanlin City. Knowing that Qinglan would certainly bring her sister along, she had prepared warm winter garments for her sister as well. That grey squirrel-fur jacket was now worn by Le Shui, a daily reminder of her own wishful thinking.

When the engagement was broken, she had not even been surprised.

But Jingyu had been heartbroken. Pitiably so.

That day, the taunts and the surrounding assault of so many women — she knew it had been wrong. She knew she had failed in her duty as a hostess.

But she still remembered the night Cui Jingyu’s engagement was broken — Marshal Wei, like her, had not slept until morning. He said: “Jingyu wept.” Wei Furen could not stop herself from going to look: the drenched young man curled in the corner of his room, like a wolf that had been hurt.

Her heart had shattered.

She knew she was not clever, nor truly generous of spirit. She did not have the ability to navigate the scheming world of the capital’s ladies. Many years ago she had thought she found the answer: she had been willing to give over her own authority, to place it in the hands of this dignified young woman Cui Jingyu had brought home, to lift her into the position of the flower banquet’s foremost lady — as long as she would follow her and endure one winter in Yanlin City.

But all that was past now.

She was still Ye Qinglan. But she was no longer Wei Furen’s Ye Qinglan.

When facing her now, she was only an angry mother.

—

Lu Wenyin was always the first to speak.

So it was four years ago, and so it was four years later. Of the three, she had been the first to choose the morally compromised Chen Yaoqing, marrying into the Chen family before it rose to power. She was not equal to Han Yueqi’s family name, nor to Qinglan’s beauty and talent. She had never aspired to be the foremost — and she knew she could never be the foremost.

She only wanted to trample all of them under her feet.

The inner-household wars of the Chen family were as vicious as any battlefield. Those brutal contests had diminished her. Even now, the acknowledged leader of a faction, she had never learned to share the world equally with anyone — always striving to be above, willing to obliterate another person’s entire world for even the smallest advantage.

As she was doing now: she smiled at once and said: “Elder Sister Ye has arrived. How is Shen Young Furen faring? Today’s events were truly extraordinary — no wonder she finds it difficult to bear. I was even thinking of going to offer her some comfort…”

“You could bear it — how could she not?” said Qinglan, lightly.

Lingbo’s sharpness was really Qinglan’s own — only time had passed, and many people had forgotten what Qinglan used to be like. The noble man prizes directness; the censorate’s memorials were blade-sharp in every line. Ye Qinglan, who had read the classics through and through, could not always be the placid and devout figure of serenity she appeared.

Lu Wenyin’s expression shifted at once.

Had the Lu Wenyin of four years ago known she would come to this pass? Inner-household warfare was just this ironic — fight and fight and lose yourself in the fighting, and what is gained? The “conjugal harmony” of jointly training and distributing Yangzhou’s kept women with one’s husband?

But she recovered quickly, and smiled: “What is Qinglan saying? Could it be that worry for Yueqi has put you out of sorts too? Seeing you all like this, I feel for you as well. I was just telling Wei Furen — we should go back early so as not to add to your troubles…”

Oh — she still remembered that from four years ago they had been on first-name terms. Though it had finally come to this.

“Yueqi is presently drawing up the menu for the evening banquet. If Madam Chen wishes to leave, then very well. I have some words I’d like to say to Wei Furen, and ask that Wei Furen dismiss the others for a moment.” Qinglan said calmly.

Wei Furen did not move. Lu Wenyin laughed instead: “How has Qinglan become like this today? We are all close acquaintances here — you may speak plainly enough. But to say something unflattering: Wei Furen is a marquis’s household’s lady. Even if you have something to say, you must consider whether Furen wishes to hear it. Furen — let us go. I can see the Shen household is in genuine disorder today. Shen Young Furen cannot manage this chaos, and if Furen were to be disturbed, that would be most unfortunate.”

Fu Yunrui grew anxious at once. She was herself without much standing, yet she tried her best to speak up for Qinglan: “Furen — perhaps you might hear what Qinglan has to say…”

But among the Northern Suppression Army wives, others moved to block her. Luo Furen immediately said: “How has Yunrui lost her judgment too. Furen — let us go. The Shen household is such a mess — it would only add to Shen Young Furen’s worries if we stayed. We can come back in the evening.”

“Shanhu once asked me about Mozi — does she not remember the principle of universal love and non-aggression today?” Qinglan asked her quietly. “Shen Young Furen has made it known she hopes you will stay for the evening banquet. Rather than searching for excuses to leave, you might be more straightforward about your intentions. Madam Chen’s rhetoric, however skillful, is not the righteous path — it is not good to emulate too closely.”

Luo Furen’s given name was Shanhu — she was a distant niece of Marshal Wei. Her husband was Cui Jingyu’s deputy general, Luo Yong. The two had known each other from childhood. In those days she had followed Qinglan and called her “Elder Sister Qinglan,” full of admiration for all the books she had read, eagerly asking her to teach her swordsmanship so she might one day defend herself.

Wei Shanhu’s eyes immediately reddened.

“I should like very much to follow the righteous path. It is simply a pity that no one taught me.” She said to Ye Qinglan in anger. “If it weren’t for what happened at the Shen household today, Elder Sister Ye would not have come to find us at all — yet Furen has already made up her mind not to listen to you. We people from Yanlin City have a saying: betray once, and never trusted again.”

Qinglan smiled.

“Whether Wei Furen listens or not, I still have these words to say.” She looked calmly at Wei Furen: “Furen once taught me the principles of battle, and one line I remember very clearly: a just war always wins. What Yueqi has suffered today is an undeserved calamity. However skillfully Madam Chen may argue, leaving at this moment is an act of injustice. The capital’s social customs are muddled and contentious — and wearying. The Grand Princess presides over this year’s Flower Season Banquet precisely to restore proper order. Furen may not wish to listen to me — I will not press Furen further. I only ask that Furen follow her own conscience, and act in accordance with what is just.”

People suppose that persuasion is an impossibly complex business — that to defeat one’s opponents, one must argue like Zhuge Liang routing the scholars of the south. But who can be Zhuge Liang? Surrounded by adversaries, if one can speak one’s own reasoning clearly, and have it heard by the one who needs to hear it — that is already a success. Whether it is then distorted, whether it is taken up — those are matters for after. She could only do her utmost.