Yun Pan and Hui Cun exchanged a glance. Truly, one grain of rice feeds a hundred different kinds of people — how could anyone in this world be such a poor judge of what to say?

The last time they had encountered Madam Deng at the market, she had opened her mouth and told Yun Pan to take concubines for Li Chenjian. At the time, it had already seemed thoroughly unreasonable — yet the real extremity of it was only now apparent. Here she was, blurting things out without the slightest regard for how Duchess Jing might feel — practically stopping just short of calling the child a debt-collecting demon.

Hui Cun quietly tugged at Yun Pan’s sleeve. The two of them had already braced themselves — they were prepared to intervene in a moment if necessary. But what followed was nothing at all like what they had anticipated.

Duchess Jing, instead of breaking down further, actually stopped weeping. She let out a quiet breath and said, “What Sister-in-Law says is right — I should not be so affected by this. Xuandu was still so small; to go so early means that he and I simply had no bond of fate. I raised him for six or seven years, but I might as well count it all as a dream — there is no need to grieve to the point of injuring myself. Besides, fortunately, he is not the only child in the household — that is some consolation.” She forced a slight smile. “And your young nephew — I heard he has already learned to call for his father? Children grow up so fast.”

Yun Pan let out a breath of relief, certain she would see the two of them come to blows — yet Duchess Jing had defused it all in just a few words.

Truly, people were so very different from one another. Some relished rubbing salt into wounds; others possessed the bearing of a great house, knowing how to turn the situation with a feather’s weight. Yun Pan recalled the first time she had met Duchess Jing — she had thought her a woman of gentle and mild temperament. She had not expected that beneath that soft exterior lay so strong an inner core: the ability to govern her emotions with ease, and the steadier she was pushed the steadier she held herself. Thinking of it this way, she ought to learn something from her. People living in the world will always encounter those petty sorts who are bent on stirring up trouble — you cannot avoid them, so simply refuse to let them occupy any place in your mind.

As for that Madam Deng — she was indeed an unpleasant sort. As though afraid no one knew her own son was currently standing as the sole outstanding one, she seized precisely this moment to speak at length about his every daily detail: how many meals he ate, how far he could toddle on his own, when he had first said “Father,” when he had first said “Mama” — all of it suffused with undisguised self-satisfaction and contentment.

Duchess Jing’s face remained composed in a smile, and she was truly able to sit still and listen to every word. Yun Pan watched her, sincere admiration welling up within. No amount of praise would be excessive for a person like her. The success of a husband’s career is, after all, bound closely to the quality of his wife. If in the future the Emperor were to choose between Duke Chenguo and Duke Chuguo, one need only weigh their wives against each other to know who was more suited and who fell short of the role.

And so a gathering that should have been suffused in sorrow ended up becoming, in effect, a lecture by Madam Deng in praise of her own son’s brilliance. Everyone sat listening with expressions of polite discomfort, and what was in truth only the span of a single incense stick felt as drawn-out as the creation of heaven and earth.

At last came the moment of funeral rites, and mercifully everyone could disperse. Jing Cun and Hui Cun helped Duchess Jing into the small courtyard where Xuandu had lived. The main room was draped in white from ceiling to floor — only here did the grief of a household in mourning truly make itself felt. That tiny coffin resting on the floor of the room pierced the heart to look upon. The concubines and servants of the household broke into loud weeping; whether real or performed, it created at least an atmosphere of sorrowful lament.

Meanwhile, in the great hall of the court, the Emperor was deeply displeased with the recent deployment and rotation of the Palace Guard — there were gaps in the handover between the various units, such that a common vagrant had managed to reach the gates of Xuande without being stopped once. Li Yao Jian, as the Supreme Commander of the Palace Guard, inevitably received another dressing-down.

Pressed from two sides at once, he was worn to the bone. He held his tablet before him and bowed. “It is this official’s dereliction of duty. I ask Your Majesty to pardon my offense.”

Yet the jurisdiction of the Palace Guard had been adjusted the previous month — and yet whenever anything went wrong, it was still the Supreme Commander who bore the brunt of the censure. Whether or not the Emperor had truly forgotten was uncertain — it seemed more likely that suppression was the intent. In circumstances like these, anything said in defense or mitigation would be the most unwise course of all. It seemed there was nothing to do but bow one’s head and accept the blame.

Later, when court was dismissed and they came out from the Grand Celebration Hall, Li Chenjian remained at Duke Chenguo’s side for a stretch of the walk. Duke Chenguo suddenly stumbled. Li Chenjian quickly stepped forward to steady him. Duke Chenguo stared blankly at him for a moment, grief written across his face, impossible to conceal — though men do not give voice to their pain. He let out a long, desolate sigh and shook his head.

Li Chenjian was sensible of how he must be feeling, and said gently, “Elder Brother, please go home first. There are still matters at the residence that need attending to. The official business at the office — leave it with me. It is not especially complicated. If the handover between shifts is simply moved up by the time of two cups of tea, everything will resolve itself.”

Duke Chenguo looked utterly exhausted. He tilted his head back and heaved another sigh. “My mind is not in my body right now — I have no will to manage the affairs of the office. I will leave it in Fourth Brother’s hands. Once the affairs at home are properly seen to, we will discuss matters at leisure.”

Li Chenjian agreed. When they reached the three-arched outer gate, he saw Duke Chenguo to his carriage, then went directly to the Palace Guard office to relay instructions to the Assistant Commander to see to the matter, after which he proceeded to the neighboring Left and Right Guard office.

The Left and Right Guard were in charge of the billeting troops for the imperial escort, and ordinarily had very little pressing business. During the day, the commanders mostly patrolled, drank tea, and passed the time. Two adjutants who were idling in conversation glanced up casually when someone entered, their minds not yet catching up with their eyes, still inclined to pick up where they had left off — and then suddenly it registered. The new arrival was dressed in a deep purple robe of large patterned silk gauze, with a simurgh-patterned belt at the waist. Though his manner and bearing were those of a duke of the first rank, there was no sharpness or severity in his brow — only a composure as easy and unhurried as the light of dawn breaking. The two adjutants scrambled to their feet to receive him, hands clasped in salute. “We did not know the Duke would come — please take the seat of honor, Duke.”

Li Chenjian waved them off and looked around the room. “Is General Geng here? I have a matter I wish to discuss with him.”

Everyone knew that Geng Fangzhi had been betrothed to the Commandery Princess Kai’guo — now the older brother-in-law, the Duke of Weiguo, had arrived in person. This was surely a private visit.

The adjutants dared not delay. One of them said at once, “General Geng is in the rear inspecting the supplementary troops. Please wait a moment, Duke — I will go and fetch him.” He was off in a flash.

The other led Li Chenjian to the reception room on the eastern side and, with great care, presented a cup of tea.

Formerly the Left and Right Guard had also been under the jurisdiction of the Palace Attendant Command, but in recent reorganizations the two guards had been separated out. Though now an independent office, it still had a thousand threads connecting it to the Palace Attendant Command — so when a superior arrived, those below dared not be negligent. Geng Fangzhi was back before long. As he entered, he made a hurried bow. “Not knowing the Duke would come — I have been out drilling troops since this morning, and I have been remiss in not welcoming you.”

Li Chenjian sat in his armchair and only gave a mild smile. “I came without notice and have intruded upon your official duties.”

The more courteous he was, the more Geng Fangzhi felt as though he were treading on ice. “What are your instructions, Duke? Please speak plainly.”

Li Chenjian shifted his gaze to look him over. A young military man, a face bright with vigor and spirit. When the Elder Madam and the princess consort had been selecting a match for Hui Cun, they had sifted through five or six families before settling on the Geng household — Geng Fangzhi’s appearance and family background were naturally of the highest order. A pity that no one in this world was without their shortcomings. Where one side was complete, the other was bound to fall short.

Li Chenjian lifted his ceramic bowl and took a sip of tea. Office tea was never particularly good — the flavor hitting his tongue was distinctly astringent. He had grown too accustomed to the fragrant drinks his wife prepared at home, and lately his taste for tea had faded by seven or eight parts.

He set down the bowl. The cup clinked against its saucer — a soft, crisp sound.

He said nothing to reveal his purpose. Geng Fangzhi felt increasingly uneasy inside, and stole a glance at him. He already had a faint premonition of what this was about.

After a long silence, Li Chenjian addressed him: “Jingcheng…”

Geng Fangzhi straightened at once and responded with a prompt “Yes.”

Li Chenjian remained perfectly genial. “Today I have not come on official matters — let us speak of a private one. There is no need to be so tense; please, sit.”

Geng Fangzhi bent slightly at the waist, and though he had taken his seat, he remained rigid and could not relax.

Li Chenjian’s easy temperament was well known to all — but to conclude from this that he was easy to deal with would be a grave miscalculation. All these years he had made his way through the military, rising in rank until he held the post of Supreme Commander of the Palace Attendant Command, a position on a par with Duke Chenguo — that alone showed he was not as unconcerning as he appeared on the surface. Right now, with imperial power on the verge of changing hands, which of the three dukes would be the last man standing was something no one could predict. Even when about to become family by marriage, one could not afford to be reckless in front of him. To be perfectly frank, Geng Fangzhi was somewhat afraid of him.

Li Chenjian could see his unease clearly, and tilted his head. “Since you and the commandery princess became engaged, we have never properly spoken heart to heart. I have some free time today — we brothers can sit down and speak candidly.” He smiled slightly again. “A few days ago, some news reached my ears — I hear you have a kept woman in your household, and she has been with you for four years. Is that so?”

Geng Fangzhi’s heart lurched. He lowered his head in embarrassment and, after much deliberation, managed to stammer out, “There is indeed a kept woman — and she has been with me quite a number of years…”

“Since it has been quite a number of years, the feelings must run fairly deep.” Li Chenjian turned his gaze away and narrowed his eyes, looking at the weapon rack by the door. “A man is not a stone — for someone who has served at your side for many years, to treat her as no different from an ordinary maidservant would be rather cold and unfeeling. You and I are both men; toward those near to us, there is naturally a measure of devotion. The pity is that her station is not a match for yours. You need a well-born lady to lend prestige to the household — so you settled your choice on my sister, the commandery princess. Is that how it is?”

Geng Fangzhi was deeply alarmed. Beads of sweat appeared on the tip of his nose. He said with a trembling voice, “No — the Duke has misunderstood. That kept woman was placed in my quarters out of my grandmother’s kindness, to look after my daily needs… she is truly nothing more than a lowly maidservant. It is not the way the Duke imagines.”

Li Chenjian gave a sound of acknowledgment. “But according to what is being circulated, you are said to think highly of this kept woman, and to have once promised her that once the commandery princess had come through the door, you would formally elevate her to the position of concubine…” His gaze shifted back, gliding lightly across Geng Fangzhi’s face. “If that is the case, General, then your conduct has been somewhat improper.”

Geng Fangzhi immediately flushed red to his ears. It appeared the substance of it had been guessed correctly, and for a moment he could only stammer without producing a coherent word.

Li Chenjian let out a quiet sigh, raised one finger, and slowly stroked it along the bridge of his nose. He said in an even voice, “What the commandery princess’s standing is — I imagine you are well aware. A proper royal clanswomen — if she were to enter the Geng household, she would immediately be faced with the awkward situation of a husband already keeping both wife and concubine. That would be an excessive humiliation for her. These past few days she has spoken to my wife and expressed considerable dissatisfaction with this match. She is my only younger sister, and I must naturally respect her wishes. Today I have come to see you precisely to ask how you intend to resolve this matter. You may go home and consult with the elders of your household, and see whether it comes to calling off the engagement or whether some other solution is found. In my view, since you already have feelings for that kept woman, it would be better not to entangle any other young woman in this — spending your life without marrying, simply elevating her alone, is not an impossibility.”

Yet such a so-called impossibility was, for an ordinary man, truly impossible to carry out. Without a proper wife, there would be no legitimate son; to pass down the family line through a concubine-born child was something that would invite ridicule and prevent one from ever holding one’s head up again.

For a good match to be called off in this manner — he could not bear to imagine what kind of situation he would face afterward. Weighing both sides, his mind came quickly to a resolution. He rose to his feet and made Li Chenjian a deep bow. “Please allow me to speak, Duke. Though this engagement was arranged by our elders, my admiration for the commandery princess is genuine — I would not dare deceive the Duke. As for the kept woman in my household — she is only somewhat more familiar than an ordinary maidservant, and is nothing like the way the outside talk has it. If the commandery princess objects, I will send the woman away when I return and will not delay even a day… Duke, please grant me one more chance. I will come to the residence tomorrow and make my apologies to the commandery princess — if she is unwilling to forgive me, then it will not be too late to speak of breaking off the engagement at that time.”

Li Chenjian heard this out and furrowed his brow slightly. It seemed, for the moment, that this was the only resolution available — yet hearing it come from his mouth, it still felt somehow lacking in true sincerity.

In truth, he himself was more inclined toward simply breaking the engagement here and now. Once a man’s heart had been given to another woman, taking it back might not yield anything pure. But in the capital among the noble families, alliances through marriage were like forming pacts — whether one entered into them or ended them, neither was simple. He had no particular interest in whatever advantage the Geng family might offer, nor did he wish to trade his younger sister’s future for any gain. It was more that the Geng family, having risen along on favorable winds, might be reluctant to disembark. And so whether this engagement was broken or not ultimately had to be Hui Cun’s own decision.

There was no point in saying more. He rose to his feet. “How to manage it, please consider carefully for yourself.” He clasped his hands in farewell. “I take my leave.”

Geng Fangzhi dared not be negligent and escorted him out attentively. When he had seen him to his carriage, he still made repeated apologies, saying, “Please convey to the Elder Madam and the princess consort that I am not at fault — I will handle this properly and then come to the residence to offer my deepest apologies in person.”

Li Chenjian’s expression was one of easy noncommittal. He only said, “When action is needed, take action — he who hesitates will suffer for it. You are a perceptive man; I need not say more.” With that he lowered the carriage curtain and instructed Bi Xie to drive to Duke Chenguo’s official residence.

The carriage sped off. When they arrived at Duke Chenguo’s official residence, because it was a child’s death, the rites were nothing like the elaborate ceremony accorded to an adult. That very day they found an auspicious burial plot beside the grandfather’s tomb, and, before nightfall, the child was laid to rest.

Everything was managed by the servants — neither parent attended to see the child off. It was as though, the moment a person died, all ties to this family were severed. Duchess Jing, confined within the residence and unable to go, had already wept herself dry. She could only murmur over and over to her husband, “Why… why was it my Xuandu… he was so small. He didn’t understand anything.”

Duke Chenguo could only hold her tightly, and say, heartbroken, “Do not be like this — we did not have the fortune to keep him. Afterward we can try again — it would be as though he had come back to us…”

It seemed that beyond such words of comfort, there was simply nothing else to be said.

Everyone watched with aching hearts, yet was helpless to do anything. They lingered until everything was settled and in order, then took their leave of Duke Chenguo’s residence.

On the return journey, Yun Pan and Hui Cun rode together as before. Since Li Chenjian had already told Yun Pan how his meeting with Geng Fangzhi had gone, she relayed it all to Hui Cun and concluded, “The Geng young man is coming to the residence tomorrow to ask your pardon.”

Hui Cun’s brow creased. “I have little desire to see him. If he truly had heart, he ought to have settled that kept woman’s situation before the engagement was finalized — not waited until the wedding was nearly upon us, with rumors circulating outside, to hastily put things in order.”

If she spoke from the heart, Yun Pan was wholly in agreement with her. The heart, when it came to such things, was the hardest to manage — either stay untouched, or once touched, be whole and consistent. Yet while that was her own thinking, she had no idea what the elders’ views were. The Geng family’s standing was not low; Geng Fangzhi’s father was the Military Commissioner of Dingzhou, and Geng Fangzhi himself currently served as Left Guard General — his future prospects were considerable. When this match had first been decided upon, the Elder Madam and the princess consort had deliberated and selected from five or six candidates. If it were simply broken off now, and a replacement found of lesser standing than the Geng family, it would be difficult to save face.

“Let us first see how the Duke’s meeting with him turns out. If he proves difficult, then we will bring it before the Elder Madam and Mother — they would not stand by and watch you leap into a fire pit.”

Hui Cun brightened at this, and leaned over playfully to nestle against her. “Thank you, Sister-in-Law, for protecting me just like a real elder sister.”

Yun Pan patted her arm gently, understanding what she had in mind. Sisters-in-law come in many varieties — if one met the kind like the wife of the Loyal Martial General, even someone of Jin Shengyu’s caliber would find herself short of the backbone her own family had given her.

Whatever tomorrow would bring, they would deal with it then. Hui Cun relaxed and found herself with the leisure to look out at the scene beyond the window. It was already quite late; as they passed through the market district, the sun’s shadow was slanting westward. Because five or six stories of tall buildings blocked the light, that bustling stretch of street was half in brightness and half in shadow.

Those who ran the evening market stalls were beginning their preparations for the night’s trade. A long string of lanterns needed to be lit one by one — quite a bit of effort. A ladder that high was carried over, someone climbed up, and a wine shop attendant lost his footing on a rung, drawing an “Oh!” of alarm from Hui Cun.

Yun Pan followed her gaze — and by coincidence, caught sight of He Xiao.

A person truly cannot withstand even the smallest undoing. That spirited, triumphant Third Young Master He of the past was nowhere to be seen. He was evidently preparing to leave the capital — his belongings were packed onto one carriage, and a second carriage waited to carry him. He came out through the gate, not daring to linger, and ducked into the carriage in an instant.

The sensation of falling from the heights into the abyss was not a pleasant one. He Xiao sat inside the carriage, his mind empty and unmoored.

Over these past two days he had turned the cause and course of it all over in his mind carefully, swinging between a leaden heaviness one moment and a feeling of weightlessness the next. Had it not all started from the moment he chose to make Mei Fen’s life difficult? He did have some genuine feeling for her, in truth. Back when she had come with her uncle to Luoyang, their entire residence had been filled with her laughter and bright chatter. The Mei Fen of those days was free and unrestrained — and while he had found her somewhat noisy, he had not truly disliked her all that much. Later, he had overheard his parents speaking together and discovered they didn’t care for her — and so his own opinion of her had gradually shifted. Perhaps there was a measure of love curdled into resentment, which had led him to make up his mind to reshape her.

He had never expected that a few cakes laced with virility-stimulating herbs would provoke such a drastic response from her. She had somehow found the strength to make a sudden counterattack — it had been entirely unforeseen. People say a woman’s heart is the most venomous — now he truly understood it. Like a viper, precise and merciless, she had maneuvered him into a position where he could no longer remain in the capital, and even returning to Luoyang would only be temporary. In time, he would probably have to go somewhere else entirely and live under a different name. Good news may stay close to home, but bad news travels a thousand miles — as long as there was even one person in Luoyang who had come back from the capital, the story would spread through every street and alley in an instant. He never wanted to hear that kind of gossip again.

The carriage left the city. Between the capital and Luoyang ran an official road, but he now dared not even take the official road, for fear of running into someone he knew. He had no choice but to thread through back paths.

The driver up front was already asking, “Young master, what shall we do tonight? Are we to spend the night out here in the wilderness?”

He Xiao’s mind was foggy. He roused himself enough to say, “There is a roadside tea shelter twenty li ahead — we can rest there for the night.”

That night the moon was brilliant and clear, flooding the forests and hills in a pure, pale light. The moon hung suspended above the dark pine shadows, and the sharp points of the treetops rose like drawn arrows aimed at the sky, bent to full draw, as though ready to do battle at any moment.

In the past, too caught up in his own restlessness, he had never paused to truly appreciate scenery like this. Now he was finally capable of stillness — and yet he had arrived at an impasse with nowhere left to go.

Suddenly, from the back path behind him came the thunder of galloping hooves. The driver panicked and called out to him in alarm. He Xiao hastily pushed open the window and looked back — roughly seven or eight riders were bearing down with torches held high. He had assumed they were fellow travelers hurrying to cover ground at night, and he was prepared to give way for them to pass first — but to his alarm, those men circled his carriage, slowly and almost mockingly, going round and round.

He Xiao’s heart was in his throat. Their clothing was plain and ordinary, their boots simple — nothing about them revealed their identity. With no choice but to try, he clasped his hands and with a trembling voice asked, “I do not know which honorable brotherhood this may be — you have stopped my way, so may I ask your purpose?”

Those men said nothing in answer. The leader spoke in a voice like a great bell, and gave two short laughs. “So it is as it should be.” He said, “Since this is indeed the celebrated Luoyang talent, there must be no small amount of silver and valuables on his person.” He drew out a long saber as he spoke, and with a ringing sound the blade swung to point directly at the faces of the two manservants. “We are collecting a road toll today — this has nothing to do with you attendants. If you want to keep your lives, make yourselves scarce — now!”

The two manservants saw what was happening and understood immediately that they had stumbled into outlaws. It would be foolish to throw away their lives for their master at a moment like this. Naturally, keeping themselves alive was the priority — so they scrambled and rolled in every direction, and in the blink of an eye had vanished without a trace.