Qinglan was not unhappy about Lingbo’s engagement — she only felt a little puzzled, and thought it rather too sudden. She didn’t know who this Dai Yuquan was.

But when Lingbo had made up her mind to conceal something, there was nothing she could not conceal. And furthermore, what she told Qinglan was, after all, the truth — she had described Dai Yuquan from his first sending a calling card, to meeting him at Old Lady Ye’s courtyard, to his feelings for her all along having been for her, and even the background of the Dai family in Jiangnan and his reason for coming to the capital. She had simply left out the matter of Pei Zhao entirely.

Qinglan listened, and said: “Looking at how he has conducted himself, and where he comes from — he does seem like someone of good character. But firstly, is his family not rather too elevated? And then his family roots are in Jiangnan — when the salt investigation begins, he’ll inevitably have to go back. That is so very far away, and I’m afraid we won’t be able to look after you.”

Lingbo, as always, had an answer for everything, and smiled: “His family standing is good, yes — but we’ve already agreed that after the wedding I’ll stay in the capital and not return to Jiangnan. And it is a bit sudden, I’ll grant you that — but it’s only an engagement, after all. Given my birth circumstances, I was afraid those in the main courtyard might stir up more trouble — better to settle things officially first.”

She spoke with such clarity that Qinglan nodded as she listened, and said: “Yes, that makes sense — no wonder those in the main courtyard suddenly dug up the matter of your origins to make trouble. They must have caught wind of things and wanted to disrupt your prospects. And honestly, you — why didn’t you consult me at all? You tell me only after you’re already engaged.”

Lingbo said: “But I did mention it.”

Qinglan and Shen Biwei were cut from the same cloth — however clever they were, their nature was too gentle. For those whom they had already accepted as their own, no matter how outrageous the thing, they would find a way to talk themselves into accepting it. Qinglan thought it over, and sure enough, understanding dawned on her face.

“That day at the Lantern Festival, when you asked me what it felt like to fall for someone — was that about him? No wonder. In truth I had vaguely guessed, I just hadn’t expected things to move this quickly.”

Lingbo only smiled faintly.

It had not been about him.

But that no longer mattered.

At the Lantern Festival, she had encountered the feeling of love for the first time — alarmed and at a loss, as though drunk in a dream. That night felt as vivid as yesterday, and yet when she thought of it carefully, it seemed like another lifetime entirely.

She felt as though she had been through a serious illness. The sickness, when it held you, left you delirious and undone — but she had already recovered.

How it cut to the quick — and it had been exactly fifteen days, precisely one month. To her, it felt as though a whole lifetime had passed. The Lingbo of the Lantern Festival seemed like a different person entirely. She had walked away with resolve, leaving Pei Zhao behind to stand there alone.

It didn’t matter. He would have another Lantern Festival. A young general of twenty-one with a limitless future ahead of him. There were so many young ladies of noble families in the capital who admired him — she had only been the nearest hand reaching for the moon’s reflection in the water. It was like missing the finest bolt of brocade at the market — as long as there was enough left, as long as what remained was good enough, the regret would eventually be forgotten.

That poem he had recited on New Year’s Eve — it made, as it turned out, the perfect prophecy for the two of them. “To enjoy the lanterns, there is no leisure to be lost in wine; it is unlikely that next year this gathering will be the same.” By next year, the one standing beside him to admire the lanterns would no longer be her.

But would he still stand beneath a plum tree and smile at her?

Even just the thought of him coming to care for someone else — looking at that other person with those smiling eyes, telling her those infuriating jokes, coaxing her into pinching him — even knowing that he would have a wife and children, that he would marry, that he would live somewhere in this city of Chang’an, spending every New Year’s Eve and every Lantern Festival for all the years to come — was enough to make her feel as though her heart were being torn apart.

But it didn’t matter. Had Qinglan not come through that same darkness before her?

Lingbo thought this, and felt a strange, penitent gratification.

Shen Biwei had not been wrong. She had indeed been moved — upon learning of events from that year, of her own origins, and of the sacrifice Qinglan had made for her — to feel that she did not deserve to go seeking her own happiness. Why had Qinglan withdrawn from her engagement with Cui Jingyu for her sake, and yet she could walk freely toward her own future without any burden on her conscience?

But she did not concern herself with the reasoning. She only cared about the outcome. As long as this outcome could give Qinglan greater protection, she would choose it — just as Qinglan had once chosen for her.

She was Ye Lingbo. She could endure anything.

On the twelfth day of the second month, Dai Yuquan — the most sought-after new figure in the capital, the Dai family’s eldest legitimate son from a distinguished Jiangnan clan, serving in the Bureau of Weaving and acting under the patronage of the Pingjun Prince’s residence — formally proposed to Second Young Miss Ye Lingbo of the Ye family. The first betrothal to emerge from the Huaxin Banquet that year was thus settled, to the astonishment of everyone.

Second Young Miss Ye, in a first display of her capability, made a decisive move to claim the Dittany Banquet — and Dai Yuquan’s behind-the-scenes maneuvering had no small part in it. For seven years, the Ye family had not been entitled to host a Huaxin Banquet. Because Pan Yurong’s origins were known to all, though the ladies of the social circle would not go so far as to speak up for the Ye sisters, they still scorned any association with such a household. The Ye sisters had both the talent and the standing to host a Huaxin Banquet, but had been unwilling to do so as long as it benefited Master Ye and Pan Yurong.

Until now. Ye Lingbo claimed the Dittany Banquet, to be held only within the Wutong Courtyard — Pan Yurong was to have no hand in it whatsoever. This could also be justified publicly, since this was her engagement banquet, and so it could not be said to violate filial proprieties. At the same time, it neatly sidestepped the part of an engagement banquet where one would be expected to pay respects to one’s parents — for since Master Ye did not acknowledge her, she likewise did not acknowledge Master Ye as a father. She was simply Lady Ye’s adopted daughter, as A’Cuo was to Lady Meng. She would inherit the dowry, Lady Ye would enjoy the honor, and the spirit tablet would wait for this most promising son-in-law to come and pay his respects.

Seven years of warfare — and this was the most pivotal victory. It was said that Pan Yurong was so enraged she fell ill, and Master Ye invented some excuse of official business to avoid coming home entirely.

All of Chang’an was astonished that Ye Lingbo had appeared seemingly out of nowhere to secure the very eligible Dai Yuquan. Though he held no noble title, he was the representative of the Jiangnan gentry, and once the salt investigation began in earnest, his standing would be beyond measure. With this, the outlines of this year’s Huaxin Banquet’s top three had begun to take shape.

After all, it was a great occasion for celebration. Master Ye and Pan Yurong were too shamefaced to come, but Old Lady Ye was not one to stand on ceremony — she immediately brought out things she had kept in reserve. Lingbo made something of a gesture of reconciliation, going together with Qinglan and Yanyan to receive what was given and to sit through a round of admonishments.

“…I know, too, that what happened in those years weighs heavy in your hearts. And what happened the other day was even more improper — I scold him now, but it accomplishes nothing, as you both well know…”

The old lady spoke in a tone of regret, and let out a long sigh. She changed the subject herself: “Tomorrow’s Dittany Banquet — how have you planned to arrange things?”

“We hear that Her Highness the Grand Princess intends to attend, so Sister Han Yueqi has been invited to help oversee the arrangements. If Old Lady Ye were able to show her face as well, that would naturally be even better,” Lingbo replied at her own unhurried pace.

Old Lady Ye was, after all, the mistress of the Ye household for several decades. Upon hearing this, her eyes immediately brightened.

“Her Highness almost never comes to small private gatherings — this is truly a great credit to your son-in-law.” She spoke with feeling, then, seeing that Lingbo’s expression remained cool, let out a sigh: “Don’t worry — I will be there to support you. I know that in your heart, you blame me for what happened in those years. And indeed, I conducted myself poorly…”

“Old Lady Ye could not have foreseen things would come to this pass,” Lingbo said evenly. “Indulging a son — that is hardly unexpected.”

“Lingbo,” Qinglan, ever observant of propriety, immediately spoke a low warning to her. Seeing that Old Lady Ye had been left speechless by her words, and could only resort to a feigned cough — prompting Nanny Song to come forward to pat her on the back — Qinglan looked at Lingbo reproachfully.

“We have already taken up so much of Old Lady Ye’s time and energy — we should take our leave. There are still arrangements to be made for tomorrow’s Dittany Banquet.” Worried that the old lady might feel ill at ease, Qinglan offered a few parting words of reassurance: “Old Lady Ye, please set your mind at ease — Lingbo is settled now, and Yanyan is grown. The household will only grow better with each passing day. There is nothing to worry about.”

“It is you I worry about,” said Old Lady Ye, and the sight of Qinglan’s gentle and forgiving manner brought her to such a pitch of guilt and remorse that her eyes filled with tears. She took Qinglan’s hand and said: “It is all my fault for not speaking up in those years — I delayed you.”

Standing beside them, Lingbo felt a flare of fury in her chest. So she knew, after all. Even if she hadn’t known that Lingbo was adopted, she was still the old lady of the house — had she only made her position clear, then no matter what Pan Yurong and Master Ye had tried to do, Qinglan would not have had to break off the engagement just to stay behind and look after her younger sisters. And yet she still had the gall to say it.

Only Qinglan would, even now, let the past rest and truly comfort her with sincerity. The maidservants and matrons nearby also gathered around to offer such words as “good things come to those who wait” and “the First Young Miss has the face of a bodhisattva — blessings will surely come to her in later years.” They were just saying all of this when the sound of voices came from outside: “Congratulations, congratulations — what good fortune, Old Lady!” and in walked a person — none other than the nun, Abbess Meng, who had been visiting Old Lady Ye to speak of scripture that day.

The sight of her stirred something painful in Lingbo, and she tried to slip out first — but Abbess Meng insisted on taking her hand to offer her blessings. Lingbo tried to pull away and make her escape, and the maids and matrons all assumed it was out of shyness, and broke into laughter.

In truth, she ought to ask her. After the peach blossom current had swept them apart, what would become of Pei Zhao? Would he be all right? Lingbo knew that Liu Ji still maintained contact with him, and she had seen Xiao Liu’er looking at her all too often with words she couldn’t bring herself to say. Pei Zhao had a kind of magnetism about him — those who drew close to him seemed to fall under a kind of spell, and everyone spoke up on his behalf.

She ought to ask Liu Ji. Did he still live in that same courtyard? The Dittany Banquet was a grand occasion in the capital — all the city would come to offer congratulations, and the northern frontier army was no exception. Given the connections between their female relatives and those of the Yang-Lin city garrison, many of his comrades would likely be in attendance. Tomorrow — the whole of that long day — how would he spend it?