Yun Pan hesitated for a moment. Perhaps because it was so late in the night and her mind was not at its most alert, she actually paused and reviewed in earnest everything Geng Fangzhi had said.

Seeing her look of incomprehension, he let out a quiet sigh. “He said that for the rest of his life he would have only Hui Cun alone, and take no more concubines.”

“Oh…” She gave a languid reply, and then all at once startled, “What did you say?”

Could it be that she could not bring herself to believe it? Perhaps those words, coming from his mouth, were indeed hard to believe. But to his own mind, there was nothing remotely strange about it.

Even at seventeen or eighteen, the age of youthful restlessness, he had felt no particular interest in beautiful women. As he grew older and the engagement was settled, he became still better able to settle his heart. After the Emperor’s only son passed away, the capital seethed with invisible undercurrents, and he had far too many things to attend to — he had no leisure at all to be seeking out women. He was a man who disliked unnecessary complications. Having taken a wife who suited him in every way, he was inclined to put his energy into nurturing this bond — unwilling to let any unpleasantness squander what he had already put in. He was a practical man in all things, and insisted on seeing results — feelings were no different. His guiding principle was not to waste his time on people without value. Stated plainly, the only one who could command his whole-hearted devotion was that single, best, and only person. Certainly, an heir was important to him — enormously important — but his own wife was equally capable of bearing children. Why should he entangle himself with other women and drain his own energy?

He raised his hand and gently touched her cheek. “Do not be sad over such unnecessary things.”

Had he seen it all already? Had she been too obviously unhinged these past two days?

Yun Pan opened her mouth hesitantly. “But — the Grand Madam’s meaning, can the Duke not hear it?”

“Grandmother should not concern herself with what goes on in my rooms,” he said with quiet evenness. “Who I want, I know in my own heart. It is not as though one can accomplish anything simply by casually placing a couple of women in my bed.”

“But… but…” Her eyes grew shiny with the threat of tears. “The Duke needs children…”

“Legitimate sons,” he corrected her. “Sons born of anything else are of no use, however many. Besides, the past several years have gone by like this already. My two elder brothers each married in succession and had children in succession, while I remained alone — and yet I have not fallen behind. The way things stand now, keeping a low profile is the safest path. I even feel that it would be better for us not to conceive just yet — not to plunge into that particular fray — and that would suit my interests better. So you need not be anxious, and you must not trouble yourself over it. You can do your best to placate the elders, and when you cannot manage it, I will deal with it.” He leaned forward slightly to look more closely at her face, shadowed in the dimness. “These past two days, you have been so unhappy — do you think I have not noticed? Did you think you could hide it from me?”

When he had finished speaking, she was silent for a long moment. After a while, she reached out, moved by emotion, and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face against his chest. “I was being small-minded. I let my thoughts run too far, not knowing what the best thing for you would be.”

“You think only of what is best for me — and give no thought to what might make you happy?” He held her, stroking her back gently, gazing into the dim canopy above them. “Sometimes a person ought to be a little selfish. Do not always think of yielding to others — if you yield yourself away, who will yield to you? If I wanted children, there are any number of ways I could have ensured it long before now — why wait until this moment? You used Geng Fangzhi’s words to probe my feelings, as though I could not hear it. If I had not spoken frankly with you tonight, what were you planning to do to me tomorrow?”

He truly saw through everything. Yun Pan suddenly felt that before him, she was a person incapable of keeping a single secret. As for what she would have done to him — she muttered, “I was planning to pick out a few of the most presentable maidservants and let you choose from among them.”

He let out a low, quiet laugh — a deep voice, in that small intimate space, uncommonly magnetic. “What would I want maidservants for? I only want you.”

Those words pulled at something tender in her. She gave a small, choked sound, like a small creature that had finally received a measure of mercy, and burrowed against his chest, pressing herself close. After a long moment she tilted her face up to him, clutching the front of his silk robe, and said with trembling lips, “I will not have to share you with anyone else yet — will I? You have no idea — every time I think about sending you to spend the night in someone else’s room…”

The corner of his mouth curved into a beautiful arc. “And what then?”

Yun Pan sniffled. “Then… my heart breaks.”

He wanted to laugh at her all the more. “I will not go to anyone else’s room. I will be at your side every night.”

He said it simply, but his heart was full of gladness. This small wife of his held him dear — only where feeling ran deep could there be such torment. If she did not care for him, did not love him, she could just as easily hand him to another without a second thought. She was not the kind of person to say whatever crossed her mind, and she would turn everything over in her heart many times before speaking. If he had not reached out and drawn it into the open, she would have played at peace and contentment, and as time wore on husband and wife would have grown apart at heart. So it fell to him to stay alert — to care for her enough that her feelings came to light. He did not find this wearying in the slightest; quite the opposite, he found a deep satisfaction in it. After all, if one could not even give one’s wife one’s full attention, then the marriage truly had no meaning at all.

Only now did Yun Pan feel fully at peace. She made a soft sound of contentment, then said, “If the day should come when you truly must take a concubine, I hope the Duke will tell me directly, and not let me hear it through Grandmother or Mother.”

He said yes. “If that day should ever come where I have no choice, I will tell you in person. But as long as I have not said a word, you may live your days at ease. Do not spend your time in suspicion, and do not lose your composure every time you hear of someone else conceiving or giving birth.” He flicked her gently on the nose. “Once a person becomes anxious and flustered, they lose their good looks. Remember that.”

Yes — to live every day in dread, heart constricted with worry over her husband taking a concubine, her face a perpetual mask of worry — in time she truly would grow uglier and uglier. She laughed a little in embarrassment, thought for a moment, then asked him: “But both of the other two Dukes have taken concubines — are you truly not tempted at all?”

He pretended to consider the matter. “On the second day of our marriage, when we went to the palace to present our thanks, do you still remember what the Empress Dowager said? You are blessed with a clever and discerning mind, Madam — you know she only wishes to keep the balance of power. If the woman at my pillow were a dull and foolish one who could not read the meaning beneath such words, and truly reported my every move to the palace — then what would be the point of all my scheming? Before long I might find disaster upon my doorstep without knowing it.”

This reasoning was sound and clear — it went well beyond the sweetness of a tender marriage. Yun Pan’s heart settled fully. She knew now that he was not merely being accommodating — he truly had no intention of taking a concubine.

She was grateful to him. He had given her a foundation of confidence solid enough to carry her through a deep, sweet sleep. The next morning she woke refreshed, and after seeing him off to court, went to Mao Garden to report her plans for the day.

Hui Cun was also eager to come along to the shop and have a look. “I missed the auspicious opening day — today I will go with Sister-in-law. Yesterday everywhere I turned I heard people talking about Records of the Sunny Window. The ladies have taken it as their gathering place now. It is only for handcraft at the moment, but in the future it could become a dining house as well — like Ban Tower or Liang Residence Garden.”

The Princess Consort watched her animated chatter and set down her lotus-leaf cup. “Yesterday you went out on an excursion with Young Master Geng — how were things between you? Could you tell anything of his character?”

Yun Pan also studied Hui Cun’s expression carefully. She maintained her usual air of quiet indifference, saying only, “He seems like a considerate person — nothing particularly outstanding, nothing particularly objectionable either. He does know his capital sweets by heart, I will say.”

Yun Pan filed this away inwardly with a small note of concern. Knowing a few of the famous pastry shops was unremarkable enough — but if he knew every single one by heart, that was rather less reassuring. Girls had always been fond of those little delicacies, and to be that well-versed in them suggested someone had gone to a great deal of effort on a girl’s behalf before now.

But this was not the moment to say so. They accompanied the elders through breakfast and came out of the estate together. Once inside the carriage, with only the two of them, she said, “That Young Master Geng of yours — you would do well to observe him more carefully. There is no rush anyway — the wedding is still three months away.”

Hui Cun gave a nod. “I know, Sister-in-law. Don’t worry.”

Since it stood thus, there was no point in obstructing someone’s marriage. As Li Chenjian had said: do what one can to advise, and the rest is up to her.

After that they went into the shop and began receiving the lady guests who arrived. Among those she had met at the Prime Minister’s wife’s banquet, girls like Yurong and Qiaqi both came, clamoring to learn how to make the hollowed walnuts with miniature figures. Yun Pan showed them hand-by-hand: how to grind the walnut shell, how to mix the colors, how to work with the gypsum. Some things are easier said than done, and the girls, bent over their work in concentration for quite a while, found that the smallest misstep undid everything — immediately a chorus of wails arose. Yun Pan could only comfort them, urge them to start over from the beginning, and try again.

In each of the private rooms, specialists were on hand to teach their respective crafts, but nothing was as lively as having Yun Pan guide things in person. She went back and forth all morning, busy to the point of exhaustion. A little later, Mei Fen arrived as well. Yun Pan said, “Last time the Duke brought back mother-of-pearl shells and a lacquered wood handle — I have an idea. I want to make a mother-of-pearl cup. A’Jie, do you think it would work?”

Lowering her skirts, she settled in front of the long workbench, took out a thin sheet of abalone shell, and ground it down into sesame-seed-sized fragments, passing them through a sieve. Then, going by the gradations of color across the surface, she sorted them into categories — separating the mother-of-pearl chips by their different hues. This was extraordinarily time-consuming work. With several people lending their hands, it still took half an hour to pick through and sort them all. Then she took the cup blank and sanded it down before coating it with lacquer. The mother-of-pearl had to be adhered with raw lacquer of extremely strong adhesive force. She brushed a small area on the surface of the cup, and within that tiny space she applied the fine fragments of shell one chip at a time, fragment by fragment. By the time only an inch or so had been covered, it already gave one a sense of rosy clouds shimmering over boundless waves of light.

The young ladies who had been watching — still having not mastered the hollowed walnuts — immediately fell into the spell of the mother-of-pearl work. One after another they sighed, “Remarkable — the Duchess’s clever ideas are endless. At this rate, not even a year or two would be enough to do them all.”

Yun Pan smiled. “It is nothing more than a pastime. Come whenever you have a free moment — it is merrier when we are all together.”

In the middle of this pleasant chatter, a maidservant came to the door with a message: the Defense Commissioner’s wife had arrived. Yun Pan and Mei Fen quickly went out to greet her. Chun Sheng stepped down from the carriage and, before they could say a word, made fun of herself. “I’m a woman with a belly this large — I should be home resting instead of running about every day. Are you going to say that?” Seeing them both smile, she laughed too and clicked her tongue. “I just can’t sit still — even my nanny jokes that I must give birth quickly too.” Then she said, “About that matter I raised with Madam Mei yesterday — when I went home I brought it up with the family. My father and mother are very open-minded people. When they heard it was the daughter of Duke Shuguo, they were still a little uncertain at first — they worried our family’s standing might not be worthy, and that if we presumptuously proposed a match it might invite Duke Shuguo and his lady to laugh at us.”

Women had a particular enthusiasm for these things — matchmaking most of all. Afraid that Chun Sheng might exhaust herself, Yun Pan invited her to come inside and sit down, then turned to ask Mei Fen, “A’Jie — when you went home, did you mention it to Uncle and Auntie?”

Mei Fen was a little caught off guard. She had not imagined Chun Sheng would take it so to heart. She had assumed at the time that it was an offhand remark — who would have thought the woman was in earnest. Now she was embarrassed about it, and could only hedge: “I came home late last night, and there was not yet an opportunity to report it…”

Chun Sheng, direct as ever, shook her head. “I know — it’s not that you had no opportunity. You forgot, didn’t you! I want you to understand: what I said to you was not in jest. Otherwise I would not have made a special trip here today. As far as our household is concerned, our elders could not be more eager — as long as you say yes, they will send a proper matchmaker to call on Lord Xiang and his Lady, formal and official.”

Mei Fen could find no way to decline gracefully, and said in embarrassment, “Sister’s generosity…”

“Then it’s settled!” Chun Sheng clapped her hands and, before Mei Fen could finish her sentence, stood up and pointed across the street. “I have already brought him here — take one look. If he suits you, I will go tomorrow to propose.”

These words were heard not only by Mei Fen and Yun Pan, but by several ladies passing through the shop as well. No one had ever seen a matchmaking conducted with quite this much urgency before. A wave of curiosity swept through everyone present, and they all crowded around Mei Fen to the front of the shop, and looked across the long street at the figure on the other side — he was dressed in a dark green scholar’s robe, with silver-fitted belt ornaments hanging at his waist. Being a military man, he stood tall and straight as a pine tree. His hair was thick and dark, his bearing open and magnanimous. His features, too, were even and refined, with a gentleness about the eyes — six or seven parts resembling Zhao Zhongyan. Finding himself suddenly confronted with such a crowd, he seemed quite startled, but he still cupped his hands and made a deep bow toward them from across the street.

The lady guests were there only for the spectacle, and after a burst of laughing they drifted back to their own activities. Chun Sheng supported Mei Fen and said, “There — that is my younger brother-in-law. In looks and bearing, he is not inferior to anyone. Young as he is, he already holds a Fifth Rank official post. His future prospects are boundless — getting you a noble title would be child’s play.”

So this military man had been left without recourse by his sister-in-law’s enthusiasm, and had no choice but to come and be looked over — which suggested he was an accommodating sort of person.

Yun Pan gave Mei Fen a light nudge with her elbow. In her estimation, he seemed like a fine candidate for a husband. She was only uncertain what Mei Fen herself thought.

It was hardly proper to leave him standing on the other side of the street indefinitely. Yun Pan instructed one of the serving women to go across and relay the message, inviting the Military Observer into the shop, and had one of the private rooms cleared for them to speak in. At first, Chun Sheng went in to keep them company, but after a while found an excuse to slip out and join Yun Pan for tea.

The two of them had been rather unceremoniously thrust together with no prior acquaintance, and sat facing each other in some awkwardness. It was Zhao Zhongyan who spoke first, in a solemn tone: “I have been so presumptuous today in coming to meet you like this, Madam — truly thoughtless of me. I ought by rights to have first paid my respects to the Duke and Madam in proper form. But my sister-in-law has been urging so insistently… In any case, I have long heard of your name, Madam, and hold you in very high regard…”

It was plain enough that he was not a man gifted with easy words. “Long heard your name,” “hold you in high regard” — entirely the sort of polished phrases men used in professional socializing. Transported before a young lady, they sounded decidedly out of place.

Mei Fen, for her part — after what had happened with He Xiao, once bitten, twice shy — found herself tensing up in her chest and breaking out in a cold sweat on her palms whenever she was alone with an unfamiliar man.

Her expression must not have looked particularly good, for it seemed to make the man across from her grow even more nervous. The two of them exchanged one glance, and quickly each looked away. After a long silence, she heard Zhao Zhongyan say, with some stammering: “I — I don’t know how to talk to you, Madam. Today — perhaps today just — just forget it, another time—”

He was not polished at all. In fact he seemed even more nervous than she was, which unexpectedly helped ease Mei Fen’s own awkwardness.

She looked at him with some curiosity. “Has the Military Observer never been acquainted with any young ladies before?”

Zhao Zhongyan turned completely red for no apparent reason, lowered his head, and said, “I was posted at Stone Fort for six years — over there, even the — even the rats were male…” Perhaps frustrated with his own stumbling speech, he waved his hand hastily. “I — I don’t stammer. It’s just that I’m — somewhat — somewhat nervous…”

And just like that, Mei Fen was released from her own tension. It was strange — seeing his reaction was like looking at another version of herself. In the past she had been exactly like this: the moment she grew nervous, she would stammer. She had always thought she was the only person in the world like that. And now today she had met a military man who had absolutely no idea how to manage a conversation with a young lady. It was terribly amusing — and however things went between them in the future, at the very least there was a certain affinity between them.

She pressed her lips together in a faint smile. “When did the Military Observer return to the capital?”

“I was only transferred back last month,” he said.

“Then — I should tell you that I have been previously engaged twice, and the engagements were broken off twice. You know of this?”

There seemed little point in concealing it. Better to say it plainly now than to have him discover it as a shock later.

The man across from her appeared to have gradually settled into some calm. He thought for a moment and said, “There is nothing amiss in a betrothal being broken off. I have heard what happened to you from my sister-in-law, Madam — I admire greatly how you saved yourself. As for myself — I am rather old to be looking for a match now. If I wait another two years, I will probably only be able to marry a widow…”

This completely upended Mei Fen. She could barely restrain herself from shaking her head. Truly a man who had spent too long in the military — not even Xiang Xu had spoken as bluntly as this.

And yet, strangely enough, she found this sort of person rather guileless and genuine. A life drawn in iron lines and silver hooks, with no flourish of flowers to soften it — she did not know what he might become in years to come, but as things stood right now, for that very quality of earnest bashfulness, perhaps there was room to discuss things further.

He seemed a little unconfident as well — possibly because he had been turned down by the Grand Academician’s household — and hesitantly said, “Does Madam’s household have any particular preference regarding civil or military men? I am a military man — I don’t go in for that scholarly way of doing things.”

Mei Fen thought to herself: had He Xiao not been scholarly enough? Full of cunning and calculation too frightening to contemplate. Compared to all of that, she would far rather have a military man — no so many layers of schemes, straightforward and direct in his speech. She said, “My father was granted his title on the strength of military merit, and once led troops in campaigns in the Black Water region.”

Zhao Zhongyan gave a small “oh.” “Of course — I had quite forgotten.” He said it with a sheepish look across at the young lady before him. He found her very much to his liking — her brows and eyes gentle and composed — but he did not dare to let his feelings show too readily, for fear of being too rough and inadvertently giving offense to this young noblewoman of a Duke’s household.

They spoke a little more after that, touching on his years in the military, and on his current transfer back to the capital, with the likelihood that he would soon be posted away to another region. He finally worked up the courage, his hands balling into fists under the table, to say: “May I be so bold as to ask you one question, Madam — would you allow me to present the betrothal gifts to your household?”

Mei Fen was surprised. She had not expected him to ask so directly. Military men, it seemed, had none of the poetic romance about them — when they decided they wanted to accomplish something, they made straight for it.

She lowered her eyes. “The Military Observer has only seen me once — and you have already made up your mind to send the betrothal gifts?”

Zhao Zhongyan said, “Whether or not two people can get along — you can tell in a few words of conversation. You are a direct and candid person, Madam, and I will not go around in circles either. If you do not find me too dull and thick-headed, I will come tomorrow and pay my respects to Lord Xiang and the Duchess.”

Mei Fen stood in a trance. She was not sure how it had happened, but it felt as though they had already made some kind of private pledge. Yet she looked at this man — his gaze was sincere and warm, capable of melting ice. Turning it over in her mind: the two families were well-matched in standing; she supposed she did need a companion; it did not have to be a great lifelong love — as long as they could walk through life together, that would be enough.

She let out a quiet breath and smiled faintly. “Please let the Military Observer first inform the elders of his household, and act according to their decision.”

This was a tactful reply — meaning she had already agreed.

Only at this did Zhao Zhongyan break into a smile — an open, bright expression, his face entirely without artifice.

He struck his right fist against his left palm and said, “Good — I will go back at once and inform my parents.” He was already hurrying for the door, when it occurred to him that he had talked all this while without ever telling her his name. He turned back and said, “Madam — my name is Zhao Zhongyan, courtesy name Wanjun, born on the third day of the fourth month, tenth year of Tian Deng… I am going back now to report to my parents. Please wait for my good news, Madam.”

With that, he strode swiftly out, and passing through the front hall, gave a quick bow to the two women taking tea inside.

Chun Sheng saw him walking in such haste and stood up. “Where are you off to in such a hurry, little brother?”

He had already walked out of the shop and was crossing to the other side of the street. He raised his voice in reply: “Going home,” and swung up onto his horse, galloping off down the long street.