Yun Pan had only come to that small private residence once before — the last time was when A’Niang’s spirit tablet had first been brought to the capital, and she had come with Aunt to pay her respects.

A’Niang had originally been enshrined in the Jiang family ancestral hall, her spirit tablet bearing only the inscription “Lady Ming Shi of the Jiang Household.” Yun Pan had once imagined how A’Niang must have felt, surrounded by the strange and distant faces of the Jiang clan — a desolate solitude, standing utterly alone. But now things were better. She had come to the capital. Though she could not be at the side of her own parents, she had at least returned to the city where she had grown up. A’Niang’s heart must be glad.

The carriage and its escorts stopped outside the Osmanthus Garden. Stepping down from the carriage, she immediately saw freshly restored white walls, dark roof tiles, and upturned flying eaves. It was a building of decidedly Jiangnan style. The palace beauty Sun Meiniang, who was from Hengtang, had lived here for nearly a year before entering the palace. Even now the house retained its original character, and compared to the timber-heavy residences of the capital, it carried a particular quality of graceful refinement.

The maidservant caretaker came to the gate to receive them, curtsied deeply, then gestured ahead to lead the way. “Incense, candles, and paper offerings are all prepared. I invite the Duke and Madam to enter and pay their respects.”

Yun Pan walked into the hall. On the altar at the upper end stood A’Niang’s spirit tablet, and even though more than a year had passed since she was gone, Yun Pan could not hold back her tears.

The maidservant lit incense sticks and placed them in their hands. The two of them held the incense, bowed low, and knelt together on the brocade cushions.

Bowing down, she pressed her forehead against the cushion and sobbed. Her slight and slender frame looked utterly forlorn. He did not know how to comfort her, but he reached his hand out and gently patted her on the back.

It was quite some time before she stopped crying. She straightened up and addressed the spirit tablet above, saying, “A’Niang, I was married the day before yesterday. Today I had the return visit at Aunt’s household, and I have just come from there. I have brought the new husband with me to offer incense to A’Niang.”

Beside her, the new husband was rather solemn in the manner of a son-in-law meeting his mother-in-law. He raised both hands to his brow in salute. “Your son-in-law Ji Fu respectfully greets his mother-in-law.”

If A’Niang were still alive, what would she have thought, seeing such a scene? She would certainly have looked on with a smile, and received her son-in-law’s bow perhaps with a touch of bashful delight, then carefully given her instructions: you must be sure to treat my Si Si well.

What a pity that A’Niang could no longer speak. But she must have been pleased too. At least a fine young man had been found — and tracing back the connection, perhaps they had even met when he was small.

Li Chenjian was a man of careful deliberateness. He did not, just because his mother-in-law was gone from this world, treat the formality carelessly after his bow. Just as one would before a living elder, he sincerely conveyed his intentions to the departed spirit of his mother-in-law, asking her to rest at ease. “While I draw breath, I will ensure that Si Si wants for nothing in wealth or safety. I also ask my mother-in-law’s spirit above to bestow blessings upon Si Si and me — that we may live in harmony and grow old together.”

Growing old together — a phrase commonly used to congratulate the newly wed, so often heard that it seemed unremarkable. And yet turning it over slowly in the mind, it held another kind of warmth.

What extraordinary fortune it would take to truly live out those four words. In the freshness of a new marriage now — and then one day as an old couple — imagining the sight of two white-haired people standing side by side gave one a genuine sense of longing.

The incense was placed in the censer. They withdrew from the front hall and stood in the garden looking around. To the east grew dark green bamboo; to the west, climbing roses. In the southeast corner, an osmanthus tree had grown tall and grand, its graceful branches reaching over the courtyard wall.

The sun sank behind the roof corner. Long sweeps of crimson clouds floated up along the horizon, layered in dense rows like overlapping fish scales. He turned his head and asked her, “On the way back, we pass the night market at South Bridge — is there anything Madam would like to buy?”

Yun Pan shook her head. “Aunt prepared everything I could need in my dowry. Knowing I love to make ink, she even included pine soot. Only — I have never been to the night market in the evenings. If we could pass through slowly on our way by, just looking will make me very happy.”

He agreed, and accompanied her as she went back inside the hall to take her leave of her mother. After all, this place was not too far from the Duke’s estate — whenever she wished to come and pay her respects, she could do so at any time.

They boarded the carriage again, letting Bi Xie take the reins, and slowly made their way into the glittering depths of the prosperous city.

The night markets of the capital were beyond the reach of pen and ink to describe. They were dignified yet alluring, reserved yet full of charm — the gilded dream of the poor man’s eye, the elegant memory of the noble, the undimmed heroic ambitions murmured by poets in their verses.

Yun Pan leaned toward the carriage window and peered out, murmuring, “The lantern market by night is so beautiful.”

The lanterns came in all forms — some were palace lanterns adorned with gold and silver; others were fruit lanterns, made by hollowing out fruit and filling them with a candle flame that drew out a fragrant scent. But such lanterns had an extraordinarily brief life. They typically burned for only one night and were discarded the following day, impossible to use again.

As the carriage passed slowly by, Yun Pan watched with care, and a thought suddenly came to her. She turned to him and said, “In my craft workshop in the future, I could make scented wax candles. For instance, by grinding cloves and white tea into powder and blending them into melted wax, then pouring the wax into prepared molds and letting it set — when it burns, it would give off a fragrance like incense. What do you think?”

Her mind was always turning. Any small thing could set off a whole cascade of ideas in her.

Li Chenjian said it was a good idea. He raised a hand to cover his lips and gave a light cough. “If you need fine-quality aromatics, I know the transfer commissioner of Shuofang — I could ask him to ship in some rare foreign fragrances from distant regions, to help your business flourish. However—” He smiled again. “Most common folk use oil lamps for their evening light these days. Those who can afford to enjoy candles are largely the women of aristocratic and distinguished households. It seems you can only do a luxury trade — there is no way to sell cheaply in high volume.”

Yun Pan answered quite earnestly, “There are ways around that. If the aromatics could be blended into lamp oil, even young women with a little pocket money could buy some to light in their own chambers. For the expensive kind, there is an expensive approach — things decorated with gold thread and gold leaf inside a walnut shell, of course at double the price. For girls from ordinary households who want to enjoy something similar, the materials could be kept simple — still using gypsum and mineral pigments, and costing no more than ten coins from start to finish. And for those who truly cannot afford even that, there is still the tea house next door — they can go in, sample a couple of cups of fragrant tea, read a book or two, and in the height of summer with cicadas singing and willows standing still, passing the time that way is quite refined in its own right.”

For a man like him who commanded the capital’s imperial guards, spending his time listening to a girl talk about walnut shells and scented candles might seem rather beneath his station. Yet he listened with genuine attentiveness, occasionally offering his own thoughts. With him as her audience, Yun Pan felt that the little shop could truly be opened smoothly — she could almost close her eyes and see it: bustling with customers, thriving and full of life.

Planning together for the future and how to make a living from it — that was a happy thing. Yun Pan felt that a great part of her nature had come from A’Niang. Even while managing the affairs of a Marquis’s household, A’Niang had also very capably run her own money on the outside — accumulating it steadily over the years, and passing it into her hands at the end, before illness took her. Besides the land and properties, she had saved up two hundred thousand taels in silver.

It was also fortunate that Father never concerned himself with the household accounts. Even when Liu Shi pushed and prompted from behind the scenes, he still never found the courage to raise the subject with A’Niang. And Liu Shi — a small concubine — held no special privilege against being sold away while the mistress of the household was alive. As long as she gave A’Niang the slightest pretext to catch hold of, she would not have lasted a day in the Marquis’s household. So in A’Niang’s lifetime, Liu Shi did nothing beyond harbor her cravings in secret, not daring to make a single reckless move.

The carriage moved on and came to a stop before an entertainment house. Through the window they could see gaudily dressed women in powder and rouge, arm in arm with male patrons heading inside. One pair was even carrying on brazenly — a cherry suspended between them as they walked through the entrance, each trying to bite it, and then, inevitably, their two mouths colliding.

She watched with embarrassment, and yet with considerable interest. Beside her, Li Chenjian quietly lowered the bamboo curtain, his eyes downcast. “It is all noise and vulgarity out there — best not look any further.”

Yun Pan found it curious. These days were not nearly so conservative as times past. And besides, men had their social obligations — there was no shortage of officials who frequented such places.

She tilted her head and asked him, “Has the Duke ever visited an entertainment house?”

He sat with his back perfectly straight, a light blanket carefully draped over his legs, the very picture of inviolable propriety. “I only enter wine establishments,” he said with full seriousness. “I do not go to entertainment houses.”

That was something of a clear stream in a murky world — holding to one’s own boundaries, declining to follow the ways of those in officialdom, keeping all social dealings at the drinking table without any need for the bedchamber.

As a woman, knowing that one’s husband had never frequented houses of pleasure was actually quite reassuring. After all, husband and wife would inevitably have their intimate moments, and dallying with others was not good for either person’s health.

She could not sit still, and began to crane her neck and look around again. This row of entertainment houses stretched on and on, one after another. Surely there must be proper, respectable businesses ahead?

But it was not quite proper for her to reach out and lift the curtain herself, so she looked at him hopefully and said, “My Lord, if I cannot see outside, I am getting dizzy and feeling nauseous.”

He laughed, knowing exactly what her little scheme was. His upturned eyes shifted slightly as he said, “It seems the carriage interior is too narrow. Next time I will have to arrange a larger one.” And with that he raised the curtain.

Yun Pan pressed her lips together in a small smile. But even as she did, she caught the faint hint of an ambition behind his words. The Dragon Tiger carriage was reserved for imperial relatives, already far larger than ordinary carriages — and if it were to be even larger, what rank would that suggest?

She turned her gaze back outside. With the entertainment houses behind them, that bold and suggestive atmosphere gave way to a stretch of wine establishments and foot shops one after another. She noticed a small stall set up right on the street, with a thatched roof. On its long table stood a massive ice vessel, surrounded by various sweetened milks and crushed fruit.

He ordered Bi Xie to stop the carriage, then turned to ask her, “Does Madam enjoy milk-sugar snow? This is a famous street food in the capital — if you like, why not buy a serving to taste?”

Yun Pan was utterly incapable of resisting the temptation of good food and immediately said yes. “With plenty of milk sugar.”

He nodded, then lifted aside the blanket on his lap and stepped down from the carriage to buy it himself. Yun Pan sat inside and watched him — that tall, elegant figure dressed in magnificent robes, standing before a humble street stall, was a picture of complete incongruity. Perhaps it was the impression from their very first meeting that had been so deeply etched in her — he was the type who should have nothing to do with the earthly world, all gentlemanly restraint, and the idea of him stepping down from a carriage to buy a street snack for his wife was something she would never have dared to imagine.

While she was still lost in these wandering thoughts, he came back and placed a serving of the cold treat in her hands. The so-called milk-sugar snow was extremely finely shaved ice, drenched in a thick coating of clarified butter and sugar syrup, eaten with a small silver spoon. Within the heavy, sweet topping, fragments of ice were mingled in, and the clarified butter — which had been solidified before — met the warmth and melted, spreading across the tongue. That sweetness and fragrance was utterly irresistible.

“Oh, it is delicious!” she exclaimed with genuine delight. “It is just a little small — may I have another serving when this one is done?”

He said no. “Just this one serving. You must not overindulge in cold food.”

Yun Pan was still trying to negotiate, but he cut her off before she could speak. “Has Madam forgotten what happened last night? By rights, even this one serving ought not to have been allowed.”

Yun Pan paused. What happened last night? Their wedding night? In his view, her body was still recovering and she should not have cold food, and she had completely forgotten. The reminder brought color rushing to her face at once, and even the milk-sugar snow in her hands no longer smelled quite so appealing. She finished the serving in gloomy resignation, dabbed her mouth with a handkerchief, and said they might as well head home.

He returned the bowl, then climbed back into the carriage and settled back into the seat across from her. The carriage traveled on a little way and passed the grounds of the Liang household, just in time to encounter a group of officials walking arm in arm through the gate. At first he paid no particular attention, but seeing that Yun Pan was staring with a keen and serious expression, he hesitated and asked what was the matter. “Is there someone Madam knows among them?”

Yun Pan watched He Xiao among the crowd, thinking to herself: what a thorough hypocrite — in public, smooth and faultless, without a crack to be found, and yet privately he had been scheming with such deliberateness.

“Is the Duke acquainted with He Xiao, the celebrated talent of Luoyang?”

Li Chenjian followed her gaze and said in a flat tone that he was not. “I am a military man and rarely write essays — I have no need to cultivate friendships with those literary talents.” He paused. “But Madam — do you admire his brilliant writings? I have a good friend who serves as Defense Commissioner of Youzhou. He seems to have some acquaintance with He Xiao — I could ask him to obtain a piece of calligraphy.”

Yun Pan heard this, and a look of contempt surfaced on her face. “The Duke misunderstands. I not only do not admire him — I utterly despise him.”

Li Chenjian hesitated. “What makes you say this? Is He Xiao not Uncle-in-law’s nephew? Did you meet him at Shuguo Duke’s household? Did he treat you disrespectfully?”

By the time he reached that last question, a faint and unmistakable anger had crept into his voice. A grown man tormenting a young woman merely spoke to a contemptible character. But if he had deliberately made things difficult for Si Si knowing full well she had been betrothed to him — that was a crime deserving death.

Yun Pan was not quite sure how to put it into words. It felt as though Mei Fen’s situation was not something she should be telling him, and yet seeing He Xiao thrive so easily in the capital filled her with indignation. She weighed it back and forth, and in the end revealed the full details to him.

He listened without appearing particularly surprised. “People have two sides. However bright the face turned toward the sun, the side in shadow is equally dark. This matter is not difficult to manage — as long as Uncle-in-law and Aunt-in-law are on their guard against him, and Mei Niang remains in the inner household, there is little he can do to her.”

Yun Pan sighed. “I only fear he will not let Cousin Mei go so easily. If he uses underhanded means to spread rumors, and ruins her reputation entirely, then even with Uncle’s firm hand there will be nothing to be done — they would just have to swallow the injustice in silence.”

“Reputation?” The two words turned slowly on his tongue. After a moment he gave a faint smile. “The person who relies most on his reputation to advance himself through the world is also the last person who can afford to lose it.”

He left it at that, without elaborating further. But Yun Pan had heard exactly what he meant.

Mei Fen’s reputation as a secluded young woman mattered greatly, but He Xiao’s name as the celebrated talent of Luoyang was the very key that unlocked his path to officialdom. As for young women kept in the inner household — even one who had been divorced or cast aside could still find someone to marry her. But if a man’s dignity was stripped away, his entire future was ruined. Whatever verses he could compose would earn him nothing better than filling the pleasure quarters with licentious lyrics.

At first Yun Pan’s heart had been tightly wound with worry, but now she felt it suddenly settle into place. If she wished to strike back on Mei Fen’s behalf, she was not without her means. Now everything depended on He Xiao’s next move. If he chose to stop pursuing Mei Fen and came honestly before Uncle and Aunt to confess his misdeeds from childhood, then the matter would pass. But if he continued to bully Mei Fen without the slightest restraint, then she would see him ruined and disgraced, unable to remain in this capital another day.

She had her plan, and wore the settled confidence of one who holds all the cards. Her young face, set with solemn resolution, was endearing.

He tilted his lips slightly upward. “Madam already has a plan?”

Yun Pan shifted in her seat, not answering directly. “In any case, I have already told Aunt the full truth. He Xiao will find no advantage in front of her now — that much is certain.”

Since she had her own way of resolving it, he left it alone, only telling her, “If you need me to lend a hand, just let me know.”

Yun Pan said she would, adding that she would not trouble him unless it reached the point where she truly could not manage on her own.

The carriage had passed through the full length of the night market streets. The lights ahead gradually thinned out, and the lanterns cast flickering shadows on the trees by the roadside. Bi Xie gave the horse a light tap on its flank, and the lead horse moved into a brisk trot. Before long they arrived at the gates of the Duke’s estate. Those who had traveled with them earlier had already been sent back ahead, so when the curtain was lifted there was Nanny Yao and Qin Dan waiting under the gate veranda.

The whole group surrounded her as she returned to Xu Zhou Hall. She stood before the mirror to remove her earrings, and at the same time instructed Qin Dan, “Send someone to inform the Princess Consort’s courtyard — just say we have returned, and that the hour is late, so we will come to pay our respects tomorrow morning.”

Qin Dan accepted the order and went to relay the message. Nanny Yao told the servants to carry the meal table into the inner room, and clasped her hands as she said, “Madam and the Duke have returned at this hour — you must have been to Osmanthus Garden, and had no evening meal yet? This servant prepared a few simple dishes — please just eat what you can for tonight.”

Yun Pan glanced over the spread: lotus flower meat pastry, wrapped and steamed rice parcels, and plain congee — all things she happened to like.

Seeing the food lifted her spirits at once, and even He Xiao could not dampen her mood. She took off her outer robe herself, and sat down comfortably at the food table — and did not forget the other person either. She called over to Lu Tan, a maid newly assigned to serve in Xu Zhou Hall, and said, “Go and see if the Duke has finished changing his clothes. If he has, please invite him to the inner room to take his meal.”