No sooner had Li Wu’s great work been transcribed onto paper than a stranger’s young male voice rang out from beyond the bamboo fence.

“Li Wu — the county magistrate wants you to get to the yamen at once!”

Li Wu rose and walked to the front courtyard, calling out toward the fence: “Did he say what it’s about?”

The person outside replied: “No — it was the assistant official who passed the message. Move along — there’ll be trouble if you keep the magistrate waiting!”

Li Wu turned and glanced back at the house. Li Que immediately rose. “Big Brother, let me come with you.”

“No need — all of you stay home.” Li Wu’s gaze moved to Shen Zhuxi. “Copy down those two poems of mine. If you’ve forgotten them, I can recite them again—”

“I said I haven’t forgotten and I haven’t forgotten!” Shen Zhuxi said quickly.

She’d rather forget! But whether it was the “Lament for the Braised Trotter” or “Li Wu Savors Yuhua Tea” — who could possibly forget, once they’d heard them?

Li Wu left with the man from outside, and Shen Zhuxi let out a quiet breath of relief. She looked at the two pieces on the table, painful to even glance at, and had no idea what to do with them.

Store them in Li Wu’s room? But his room was her room too — putting them in his room would mean subjecting herself to them every day.

After much deliberation, Shen Zhuxi tucked the two poems into the earthenware jar in the kitchen where the silver was kept.

Worthless things deserved to keep each other company.

Li Wu had left in the evening, and it was not until late into the night — walking by starlight — that he finally stepped back through the door.

Li Que, who had been sitting up waiting in the main room, immediately rose to welcome him. Li Kun had no idea anything was happening; he was slumped face-down on the table, snoring loudly enough to shake the walls.

“Big Brother — you’re back!” Li Que said.

Shen Zhuxi, who had been reading in the inner room, heard the voices and lifted the bamboo curtain to come out.

“Li Wu’s back?”

Li Wu dropped himself into a seat at the square table in the main room and placed an oil-paper-wrapped parcel onto the table.

“These are sesame oil pastries made by the county magistrate’s head cook — her specialty. I brought some back while they were still warm. Give them a try.”

“Sesame oil pastries!” Li Kun let out a howl and immediately lunged for them.

Li Wu gave his hand a sharp smack. Li Kun drew it back, sulking.

“I’ll go wash my hands!” Shen Zhuxi said.

Li Kun watched her retreating figure and muttered: “…Fussy little pig…”

Li Wu shot him another stern look. “How many times do I have to tell you — ‘Zhuzhu’ is a name you get to use?”

A moment later Shen Zhuxi came back, her hands washed. Li Wu undid the paper wrapping and gestured for Shen Zhuxi to take the first piece.

Six sesame oil pastries, each the size of a palm, were stacked neatly together. The golden, flaky pastry was dotted with scattered black sesame seeds, and the mingled scent of wheat and sesame sent the craving in Shen Zhuxi’s belly stirring to life.

She gently picked up the topmost pastry. The golden flaky crust crumbled at her touch and fell onto the oil paper, scattered with a few sesame seeds, like a shower of fragrant golden rain.

After she had taken hers, Li Kun grabbed the second without a moment’s hesitation. Li Que held himself in check until Li Wu gave a look of permission, and only then reached for the third.

Li Wu was last to pick up the fourth.

Shen Zhuxi carefully held her palm cupped beneath the pastry to catch the crumbs, and gently bit off a small piece from the edge.

The moment her teeth met the pastry, the flaky layers crumbled and fell in a shower into her palm. The toasty fragrance of lard and wheat, together with the rich, assertive scent of sesame, surged into her mouth all at once. The perfectly balanced savory note cut through the richness of the oil pastry, and Shen Zhuxi ate one bite, then another, and before she knew it, half the pastry had vanished.

Driven by the savory, crisp, crumbling goodness of the sesame oil pastry, Shen Zhuxi couldn’t stop eating — and across from her, Li Kun was even more helpless. He ate what was in his hand while eyeing what remained on the oil paper, looking for all the world as though he wished he could fit everything in one bite.

“Big Brother — what did the county magistrate want you so late for?” Li Que asked.

“He wants me to accompany him to Xicheng County tomorrow.” Li Wu added: “The assistant official and the others are going too. You all stay here in town.”

“What’s in Xicheng County?” Li Que pressed.

“In recent days, men from several different regional commanders have been coming and going at the gates of the Jinzhou prefect’s residence.” Li Wu said.

He spoke obliquely, but Shen Zhuxi and Li Que at the table understood immediately.

The Jinzhou prefect was looking to abandon his loyalty to the Great Yan dynasty and the puppet emperor installed by the Great Liao, and instead align himself with one of the regional commanders who held both grain and soldiers and controlled their own territories. Gathering the county magistrates within his jurisdiction was likely for the purpose of deliberating over exactly this matter.

Shen Zhuxi understood perfectly, but she feigned ignorance. As a palace maidservant, she was not supposed to know too much.

She concealed the complex surge of emotions inside her and lowered her head, slowly finishing the remaining half of her sesame oil pastry.

Li Que said: “So the regional commanders have started winning people over as well.”

Li Wu smacked Li Kun’s hand away from the last remaining pastry again. He picked it up from the oil paper and passed it to Shen Zhuxi, who had just finished hers.

“The regional commanders of Wuying and Langwen… they’ve all grown restless.” Li Wu said.

Shen Zhuxi glanced at Li Kun’s pitiable expression and shook her head. “I can’t eat anymore — give it to Li Kun.”

“He eats plenty at the magistrate’s estate every day. Don’t worry about him.” Li Wu, brooking no argument, placed the last pastry into her hand.

Shen Zhuxi thought for a moment, then broke the pastry in two — the larger half she held out to Li Kun.

Li Kun’s eyes lit up as he took it. He was just about to shove it in his mouth when he suddenly remembered something, stopped himself, and looked at Shen Zhuxi. He squirmed a little, then said with uncharacteristic awkwardness:

“…Thank you, Zhuzhu.”

Shen Zhuxi couldn’t help but smile.

Li Que looked at Li Kun, then at Shen Zhuxi. “Sister-in-law really has a way with people. You’ve only been here four months, and you’ve already taught Second Brother something the rest of us couldn’t manage in four years.”

“Li Kun is very bright,” Shen Zhuxi said, smiling at Li Kun. “As long as you’re patient and reason with him, he understands.”

“I’m very smart…” Li Kun declared proudly.

“How long will you be in Xicheng County before you’re back?” Shen Zhuxi turned to ask Li Wu beside her.

“Two days at the least, ten days to half a month at the most,” Li Wu said. “It’s the magistrate’s decision — I can’t give you a definite answer.”

“Is Xicheng County far from Qingniu County?”

The moment the question was out of her mouth, Li Wu knew exactly what she meant.

“A day’s travel each way is enough. Once the business in Xicheng County is done, I’ll make a trip to Qingniu County and see how Elder Sister Zhou is getting on.”

Shen Zhuxi hadn’t expected him to agree so readily. Her face lit up with surprised delight, so happy she could barely stop herself from offering to rub his back and knead his shoulders right then and there.

“Li Wu, thank…”

The words “thank you” were barely half out when Shen Zhuxi remembered what he had once said to her.

He didn’t like her thanking him.

“Thank what?” Li Wu said.

“Thank you for eating more!” Shen Zhuxi said with a beaming smile, and held out the half-pastry in her hand toward Li Wu.

Li Wu looked at the little crinkle on her nose as she smiled, and at the bright rippling happiness in her eyes, and he thought to himself that the only thing missing was for the other half of the pastry not to be in the hands of a roughneck who could eat more than any pig.

Sharing the pastry between them — why had he not thought of that himself?

As a result, Li Kun had snatched the advantage away from him. Truly — fortune favors fools.

He took the half-pastry, then broke it again and returned one half to Shen Zhuxi, whose round eyes stared at him:

“Half each.”

Once the parcel of sesame oil pastries was gone, Li Kun didn’t even leave the crumbs on the oil paper — he tipped them all into his mouth.

When the moon was bright and the stars were sparse, Li Que and Li Kun said their farewells and left the Li household. Shen Zhuxi returned from bathing and washing up in the back garden to find Li Wu sitting on the edge of the bed, reading through her poetry collection.

He had learned to recognize quite a number of characters by now, and reading a poetry collection was mostly no problem. It was only works like the Historical Records that occasionally required him to ask Shen Zhuxi about the meaning and pronunciation of certain characters.

“Lend me this book to read on the road.” Li Wu said.

Shen Zhuxi said without concern: “Of course.”

“What about my two poems?”

She steadied herself and kept her voice casual. “I’ve put them somewhere safe for you — paper left out in the open is susceptible to moisture.”

Li Wu muttered to himself: “…I might as well have them mounted and framed sometime.”

“Don’t—!”

Shen Zhuxi nearly bit her own tongue.

“What is it?” Li Wu raised his eyes to look at her, a flicker of puzzlement in his gaze.

Shen Zhuxi thought quickly and said in a rush: “Weren’t you going to write eight or ten poetry collections? If you have every single poem mounted and framed, can you imagine the framing costs alone?”

Li Wu heard this, and his expression grew grave:

“…You make a fair point. Never mind then. I’ve got them all committed to memory anyway — no need to have them framed.”

Shen Zhuxi thought: so did she, not by choice, and no matter how much she wished otherwise, she couldn’t forget them.

Having abandoned the idea of having his poems framed, Li Wu went out to bathe. Shen Zhuxi lay on the bed and listened to the sound of splashing water drifting in from the courtyard outside, her eyelids growing heavier with each blink.

She was on the verge of falling asleep when Li Wu returned, still carrying the dampness of his bath on him, and climbed into bed, startling her back awake from her drowsiness.

“This feather duster of yours — it pokes me every single night!” Li Wu grumbled and complained as he shifted around trying to find a comfortable position on the bed. “Can’t you just toss them off the bed?”

“I won’t!” Shen Zhuxi hastily reached out to shield her two feather dusters and pleaded their case. “Only if you cross the line first do they end up poking you! Otherwise, how do they never poke me?”

Li Wu, without a trace of shame: “You have thick skin.”

Shen Zhuxi stared at him in disbelief. Her last remnant of sleepiness fled entirely.

Li Wu shifted around on the bed until he finally found a comfortable position, which happened to be lying on his back, sprawled out in all four directions, with the arm closest to Shen Zhuxi stretched out long, resting on top of her head — at a glance, it almost looked as though she was using his arm as a pillow.

Shen Zhuxi felt her face heat up. Self-consciously, she turned over and put her back to this man who had absolutely no regard for propriety.

Now that she was earning money, why not go and order a new bed tomorrow?

But where would a new bed go once it arrived?

When they had entered into their false marriage, she had promised Li Wu that only the two of them would know. If a new bed arrived, wouldn’t everyone who knew there were now two beds in the house also know they were sleeping separately?

Besides, Li Wu was still working so hard doing what he did to support the household. Spending lavishly on having a new bed made felt a little wrong…

She lay there for a while, but sleep showed no signs of returning.

“Li Wu…” she said.

A “mm” came from behind her, produced through the nose.

So he wasn’t asleep either. Shen Zhuxi let out a quiet breath and went on. “…You’re going to Xicheng County — you won’t get injured again, will you?”

“I won’t,” Li Wu said without hesitation.

“…You said that last time too, and you still got hurt.”

Shen Zhuxi didn’t even notice that her voice had taken on a faint undercurrent of grievance.

She would never know that Li Wu, at that very moment, had propped himself up on one elbow, was lying half on his side, and his gaze — warm with a quiet smile — was resting on the back of her head.

“A surface wound doesn’t count as being hurt.” Li Wu said lightly. “Nothing will happen to me… even for your sake — nothing will happen to me.”

It was an odd thing to say. They were only in a false marriage, yet Li Wu often said things that made her feel as though they were truly husband and wife.

Shen Zhuxi didn’t want to seem presumptuous, and always instinctively let his occasional intimate words pass without acknowledgment. Li Wu was naturally bold and free-spirited, and with no formal education behind him, his words occasionally missed the mark — it wasn’t fair to nitpick over the details.

Shen Zhuxi said quietly: “Take care of yourself… don’t get hurt again…”

“No.”

“Why?” Shen Zhuxi hadn’t expected such a simple request to be refused, and turned her head without thinking.

Their eyes met, separated by the two feather dusters that stood between them like a pair of fierce sentinels. The very air in the room seemed to slow in its movement.

“Because I’m busy taking care of you, so I have no capacity left. Can’t you take care of me instead?” Li Wu said.

“I — how am I supposed to take care of you…” Shen Zhuxi began to stammer.

Meeting the pair of dark eyes so close to her in the dim light, Shen Zhuxi felt her heartbeat quicken for reasons she couldn’t explain.

Li Wu’s gaze was steady as ever, burning as ever.

“Silly girl — that question, you’ll have to ask yourself.” He looked at her without blinking, and said slowly: “Ask yourself — how you are willing to take care of me. To what extent. And for how long.”

Shen Zhuxi stared back at him, a look of bewilderment on her face.

Li Wu reached out and covered those pure, guileless eyes.

His voice came low: “Take your time. I have all the time in the world to wait for your answer.”