Jiang Heng quickly returned the courtesy, adopting the measured tone of officialdom. Given the current state of Youzhou, he said with an air of worry: “After such a natural disaster, the imperial court received the report and His Majesty immediately dispatched the emissary to Youzhou to oversee the relief efforts. Word has it that you have not slept properly in three days and three nights — you have truly worked yourself to exhaustion.”

Duke Weiguo was of imperial blood and noble lineage; when he spoke, he lacked that affected cadence of court officials. His ease came from a quiet confidence, and because the man was so cultivated, even his tone was gentler than most.

“I hold the nominal post of Prefect of Youzhou — when disaster strikes within Youzhou’s borders, overseeing relief is my unshirkable duty. Did Marquis Jiang only just return to Youzhou today? The city has been put in order over three days; it is already much better than before. Had you come two days earlier, you might not have been able to ride your horse into the city.” As he spoke, he carried a faint, unhurried smile on his face. Walking alongside Jiang Heng, he gestured ahead: “As it happens, I have a matter to discuss with Marquis Jiang. How convenient that you have come — let us speak in the inner chamber.”

Jiang Heng assented, tucking his hands back and stepping slightly behind, waiting for him to pass before quickening his pace to follow.

Truth be told, the two had rarely crossed paths. Though they served in the same court, even titles were divided by invisible walls. Jiang Heng’s rank — conferred through merit or marriage — was altogether different from the orthodox ducal lineage. Duke Weiguo’s father, the late Prince Liang of Loyal Devotion, had been a blood brother of the reigning emperor. Men like Jiang Heng, distantly connected through eighteen turns of kinship, could not compare in wealth or standing.

Yet the Duke was warm-natured, not at all puffed up by his exalted birth. Though their acquaintance was slight — mere nods in passing — when they sat down to speak properly, his words and manner were modest and restrained.

The attendants at his side brought clear tea. Once they were settled, Duke Weiguo spoke: “I do not often come to Youzhou; my position as Prefect is little more than an empty title. The past two days of relief work were managed together with the Prefectural Administrator, and the distribution of government grain within the city went smoothly enough. The day before yesterday, instructions came down from the capital: an orphanage is to be established in the south of the city to shelter the disaster-stricken populace. As people are gathered from all around, the demand for grain and medicine has grown. Given the current city reserves, it is like trying to put out a cart fire with a cup of water. Supplies must be requisitioned from neighboring prefectures. Marquis Jiang holds authority over Youzhou’s military administration — which unit of troops would be most suitable to dispatch to Puyang to provide support? Or perhaps there is a surplus in the military granaries that could tide things over for a couple of days and address the most urgent need first?”

Jiang Heng gave a sound of understanding. “Please set your mind at ease, sir — leave this matter to me. There is a small granary at Birchwood Grove, held in reserve for the Lulong Army’s military supplies. Allow me to discuss it with the commander; if we open the small granary as an emergency measure, sustaining things for three to five days should be no difficulty.”

Duke Weiguo was satisfied. Smiling, he said: “Our Imperial Guard and the Lulong Army are two separate commands — there are things that cannot be said directly; someone is needed to act as intermediary. I have thought it over and over, and Marquis Jiang is the only suitable candidate. I am sorry to trouble you for this.”

Jiang Heng smiled apologetically. “It is simply doing one’s part for the court — my duty demands no less. I could not in conscience do otherwise.” He then sighed. “Truly, these matters ought not to have required you to speak up at all. The moment I returned, I should have gone straight to the military quarters — but, regrettably, something happened at home, and my mind has been in a daze, too muddled to attend to anything.”

His face was drawn with sorrow, as though the sky had fallen — and indeed it left Duke Weiguo somewhat puzzled.

“What difficulty has befallen Marquis Jiang’s household? If there is anything I can do, please do not stand on ceremony.”

Though it was only a polite phrase, Jiang Heng was greatly moved by it. He thanked the Duke profusely, then hung his head and said despondently: “It is my youngest daughter… In this earthquake, my daughter unfortunately… she perished. The household is occupied with funeral arrangements, and I have inevitably been remiss in my official duties…”

Duke Weiguo expressed deep sympathy upon hearing this and offered his condolences: “My condolences, Marquis Jiang.” Then, recalling that on the day of the earthquake, a daughter of the Founding Marquis’s household had been sent to the capital with his escort, he casually asked: “I recall that Marquis Jiang’s household has three young ladies — which one was it who met with misfortune?”

Speaking of this, Jiang Heng could not help but feel the sting of grief. Though all his children were his flesh and blood, there was still a distinction between legitimate and born-of-concubine, and Si Si was moreover his firstborn daughter — the joy of becoming a father for the first time was something he still remembered vividly. Yet after raising her for sixteen years, it had all come to nothing. He could not stop his eyes from reddening, and lowered them to compose himself before saying: “It was my eldest daughter who met with misfortune. Poor child — only last year her mother had just passed away, and now this year she is gone too…”

Having said this, he could not restrain himself and covered his face, weeping. Duke Weiguo fell silent across from him and said nothing for a long while.

In court, even private matters were to be mentioned only lightly and then left alone — the main thing was a clouded mind. Being, for instance, rather inadequate in disaster relief funds ought also to be understandable under the circumstances.

Jiang Heng swiftly collected himself. Pulling back his sleeve, he dabbed at his eyes. “I lost my composure — please forgive me, sir.”

Duke Weiguo was understanding and reasonable, saying gently that it was nothing. “Marquis Jiang has lost a beloved daughter — I can understand your state of mind. The dead cannot be brought back; you should rally your spirits and take care not to grieve too deeply and harm yourself.” He paused, then asked: “Did your daughter perish in the earthquake? When it struck, was she unable to flee in time and could not get out of the building?”

Jiang Heng bowed his head, pressing his knees, and said yes. “I imagine that when the earthquake hit, she panicked, and by the time she thought to run, it was already too late.”

Duke Weiguo nodded. “It is truly lamentable. This natural disaster was a once-in-a-hundred-years occurrence; many of the surrounding counties and districts were also affected. Many people, not knowing how to respond in the moment, missed their chance to find safety. It is fate that cannot be defied — Marquis Jiang should try to see it in that light.”

Jiang Heng dipped his head and forced a wan smile. “You are so busy with official duties, sir, and here I am bringing up my private affairs — it is improper of me. I will see to the matter you entrusted me with right away. However urgent the family matters, they cannot take precedence over the livelihood of the city’s people. Once I have conferred with the Lulong Army commander and we have settled on a plan, I will immediately send someone to report back to your office.”

Duke Weiguo said very well, rose to see him off. Jiang Heng told him not to trouble himself and hurried toward the door.

When Jiang Heng’s figure had receded into the distance, those smiling, genial eyes slowly turned cool. He turned and instructed his attendant: “Draft my visiting card and go to Duke Shuguo’s residence. Inquire after the Duke and his madam’s health, and while you are there, confirm with the madam whether the legitimate daughter of Founding Marquis’s household arrived safely.”

The attendant acknowledged the order and went off briskly to carry it out.

* * *

In the rear courtyard of Duke Shuguo’s residence, Yun Pan was teaching Mei Fen to make the Han Wei Gong Concentrated Plum Blossom Incense.

The recipe required many ingredients; the first step of preparation was roughly to grind cloves, turmeric, musk, and the like into powder.

The two sat by the window, not delegating the work to the maids, each cradling a stone mortar, grinding away with a steady thud-thud-thud. The breeze blowing in through the window already carried a trace of summer’s stuffiness at this time of year, washing over their faces in warm waves. The two girls had changed into light, comfortable short jackets with skirts; the lotus-leaf sleeves of their gauze half-sleeves drifted in the breeze. From time to time they leaned over to check how finely ground the powder in each other’s mortars was — if it had not yet met the standard, they would grind with even more patience. The spring blossoms and autumn moon of the inner chambers drifted slowly by in that steady, fine-grained thudding.

“The market fair in Youzhou is only held once every five days. I hear there is no such restriction in the capital — has A’Jie ever been out to browse?”

Mei Fen’s contentment with her lot was almost incomprehensible to others. She shook her head and said she had not. “There are so many people at the market fair, it is noisy and chaotic. If a stranger came walking up and I didn’t know their background — what if they turned out to be a bad person?”

Yun Pan laughed. “The capital is at the foot of the Son of Heaven — the Imperial Guards patrol the whole city. Where would all these bad people come from? The day before yesterday I walked past the market fair and saw how lively it was outside. One day when A’Jie is in the mood, shall we go out for a stroll?”

But Mei Fen kept shaking her head. “There is nothing pressing — what is there to go out for?”

“To buy little trinkets,” said Yun Pan, “incense ingredients, for instance.”

“The household has everything we need,” Mei Fen refused without a moment’s hesitation, “and even if we are missing some ingredient, we can just send someone out to buy it — why go ourselves?”

Yun Pan had been entrusted by her aunt with the deliberate aim of coaxing Mei Fen out. Following her aunt’s words — “In this day and age, what woman stays shut up in the inner chambers and never sees anyone?” — but Mei Fen seemed to have taken root, never once stepping outside the residence gate; she had not attended a single one of the capital noblewomen’s spring banquets.

This had put Madam Ming at her wit’s end, for being the legitimate daughter of a noble household was no easy thing. Most people assumed that one merely had to be kept in comfort and luxury, and that was a life — but they were wrong.

In the capital or in Youzhou, daughters of noble families carried invisible responsibilities from the moment they were born. Beginning around the age of ten, attending those banquets was not for amusement — it was to meet and become acquainted with the wives and daughters of official families.

The nobility had their circles, and the sons in the families to come would mostly be of matching status. The noble and distinguished families of the capital were like a vast web, all pulling and interlocking with one another. Beyond the men’s maneuvering and socializing in court, it was the ladies’ domestic management that held things together.

Truly — half the credit belongs to you. What man did not hope to marry a wife who could manage the household and be a true helpmate? A girl like Mei Fen, who only knew how to hide in her little courtyard reading books and making incense, was not the first choice of eligible young men. The original betrothal to Duke Weiguo had come about entirely because the late Great Princess of Pingyao and Duke Weiguo’s grandmother, Dowager Hu, had been friends. But as time went on and Mei Fen’s habit of never leaving the house and her poor social skills became apparent, had the match not already been set and therefore difficult to break off, Duke Weiguo’s current standing would never, in any case, have led him to take Mei Fen as his wife.

So it was imperative to get Mei Fen moving. Madam Ming had tried many schemes to coax her out to see something of the world and recognize her own shortcomings, but all had been to no avail. Now Yun Pan had come, and Madam Ming pinned her hopes on her again — perhaps with Yun Pan’s company, Mei Fen might come alive. But no matter how Yun Pan invited her, Mei Fen remained the same: slow, immovable, deaf to all persuasion. Even Yun Pan was beginning to worry — this utterly secluded way of life was truly not quite right.

“What if we brought plenty of people along? We could sit in the carriage — if A’Jie doesn’t want to get out, she could just look out the window.”

Yun Pan worked at her persuasion quietly, reaching for the wax tea powder to prepare point tea. Once she had mixed it evenly and added musk, she turned her head to smile at Mei Fen. “Coming to the capital, I really do want to go out and stroll around — but I feel awkward asking someone else to trouble themselves, so I can only beg A’Jie to take me.”

Mei Fen still looked torn, murmuring: “I have never even gone myself — how could I take you…” The subject seemed to be one she would rather not continue. She added the various powdered incense ingredients in turn to the tea liquid, then took the honey brought by the maid and carefully spooned out a measure to add, pausing to ask: “Is this much enough? Should I add a bit more?”

Yun Pan had no choice; she could not push her. Thinking that there were still days ahead, she gave herself over to blending the incense.

A pair of slender, pale, delicate hands — washed clean — worked to knead the incense paste, pinching off a piece the size of a fingernail, rolling it in the palm into a honey-pill, and setting it one by one into a clay jar. The graceful turn of the wrist was such that Mei Fen watched, full of envy, clicking her tongue: “This incense, having passed through my sister’s hands, is clearly all the more fragrant.”

Yun Pan narrowed her eyes with a smile. “A’Jie is flattering me!”

Mei Fen nodded vigorously, then asked: “I haven’t made this kind of incense before — how long does it need to be stored before it can be taken out?”

Yun Pan said at least a month. “The longer it is stored, the more fragrant it becomes. When the time comes, burn it on a cloud-mica stone or silver leaf for incense. Zhou Ziji once described it: ‘As if one’s body were on Lone Mountain after a snowfall, amid gardens and woodland.’ You can see just how wonderful this incense is.”

Just for such an entrancing description, they would have to restrain themselves for a full month before unsealing the jar.

The two carefully carried the clay jar into the cabinet and closed the door with great care. As they turned back around, they saw Xiang Xu enter through the doorway. Mei Fen made a surprised sound: “Hasn’t Elder Brother gone to the Imperial Academy today?”

Xiang Xu had changed into an ivory-white robe with a willow-green inlaid border; his manner was bright and refreshing as green bamboo. Laughing, he said: “It’s nearly noon already — of course I have finished my duties.” As he spoke, he handed the books in his arms to Yun Pan: “I heard you are making incense, and I happened to get hold of two books of incense recipes — I’ve brought them especially for you.”

Yun Pan flipped through a couple of pages, exclaiming in delight: “These are formulas that were lost long ago — what wonderful books!”

Mei Fen had her quirks, set in her ways by habit and unwilling to try new things. When it came to incense, she made the Xunling Ten-Li Fragrance and the Goose-Pear Bed Curtain Incense over and over, never once thinking to try making something different. So Xiang Xu’s incense books were of no use to her.

But the matter of the market fair that Yun Pan had raised earlier — though she would not go herself, she had kept it in mind. Now that Xiang Xu had conveniently arrived, she passed the task off to him: “Si Si has just arrived in the capital and hasn’t been out to see the sights yet. Elder Brother, if you have time to spare, take her out for a stroll.”