Yun Pan was terrified. She wanted to support him, but he was so tall that her own strength could never hold him up.

Truly now they were utterly alone with no one to help. She knelt on the ground and struggled to prop him upright, but it was no use. She wept as she called to him: “Ji Fu… Ji Fu, wake up…”

Perhaps her voice was loud enough to cut through to him — it reached him close at his ear. He forced himself to take a labored breath, and said in a hoarse voice, “Stop shouting… I can hear you.”

He just needed a little more time to recover, until some strength returned to his legs and he could stand. The courtyard was small, yet the path somehow seemed very long. Yun Pan spent great effort before she finally got him settled on the bed.

She wiped at her tears as she looked him over from head to foot. “Did they beat you? Were you hurt anywhere?”

He was very weak, not a drop of color in his lips. He shook his head slowly. “Don’t be frightened. It is my own body failing me.”

The men from the Court of Judicial Review had not laid a finger on him. Even without his ducal title, he was still the son of Prince Liang the Loyal and Commendable — the weight of his father’s legacy still held, and the Chief Justice did not dare act recklessly.

But no one surpasses a human being at inflicting torment upon another human being without leaving a mark. The Court of Judicial Review had years of experience in investigating cases, and knew how to bring someone to the edge of unbearable suffering without a single visible wound. Six examining officers took turns questioning him, one after another like a wheel turning — starting from military affairs in Xizhou, working through the Youzhou earthquake, accounting for every measure of grain distributed in disaster relief. Once a round ended, immediately another began, with new approaches and new methods of pressing. Round after round, without respite… again and again… no time to eat, not a drop of water to drink, no rest allowed for a full day and night. By the end, your mind can no longer keep pace. You can no longer give careful, coherent answers to those questions. The answers you give at that final moment are the ones recorded, the ones copied and submitted to the sovereign.

Yun Pan spooned water to him little by little. The warm stream trickled down his throat, and the numbed organs inside him gradually came back to life.

He was grateful that at the very last moment he had still been able to keep his mind clear. Otherwise he would not have returned here — he would have gone straight to the prison cells of the Court.

He moved his lips and called out her name, Si Si. He managed to pull up the faintest semblance of a smile. “At least I can still see you.”

Yun Pan knew what he had been through. Even without him saying so, she understood. There were so many things unsaid in her heart — she nestled close by his pillow and said, “You have worked so hard. From now on, we will never be apart again.”

He said good, but he truly had no strength left to hold his eyes open. He answered her and fell into a deep sleep.

He had gone silent. She felt a small knot of fear, and watched carefully for a long time until she saw his breathing steady and even — then her heart returned to its place.

She turned her head and dried her tears against her own shoulder. She had never seen him so frail. There were no visible wounds, and yet they had worn him down until he was barely himself. But his dignity had held him upright — he had not let his frailty show before those outsiders. He had not let anyone see his weakness until the courtyard gate closed behind him. That was the pride of the Li family.

Yun Pan kept watch at his bedside, reaching over now and then to feel his forehead. The room was warm with charcoal, a pot of porridge simmering over the fire. As night settled in fully, a wind rose, sweeping through in gusts. The flame on the desk lamp trembled and wavered with a hushing sound.

The bubbles in the porridge thickened into a slow rolling mass. She knew the time was right. She rose and ladled it into a bowl to cool.

In the cold of that winter night, the air was sharp as ice. She reached into the bedding and felt his feet — even after sleeping for half the day, they were still icy cold. She quickly searched through the bundle for the small hot water bottle she had brought, filled it with hot water, wrapped it in a cloth pouch, and by feel slipped it in against the soles of his feet.

The porridge had cooled enough. She went forward and called to him softly. “Ji Fu, get up and eat something.”

He slowly opened his eyes. In truth his hunger had passed its peak and he no longer felt it, but he needed to recover his strength. Willing or not, he had to eat.

He forced himself upright. He reached for the bowl — but after two attempts, his hands shook too much to hold it. Yun Pan quickly took it from him.

“Let me feed you.” She scooped up a spoonful, blew it carefully until it was cool, then brought it to his lips.

He gave a helpless smile. “I feel like a useless person. I can’t even feed myself.”

The atmosphere was too heavy. Yun Pan tried deliberately to lighten it. “Today you let me look after you. When the day comes that I am confined to bed after giving birth, you must look after me the same way.”

That lit a spark in his eyes at once. He brightened up. “You have? When did you find out?”

She was startled, then caught herself and laughed awkwardly. “I was only saying that. There’s nothing to find out about.”

Though they kept saying this was not the time for it, if it truly happened, that too would be a surprise within the natural course of things.

But alas — it was not. A moment of false joy.

Still, he seemed in decent enough spirits, and she felt reassured that things would be all right — when, unexpectedly, in the middle of the night he began to run a fever, accompanied by a fierce cough, his cheeks flushed through with red. The combined exhaustion of that day and night, added to the cold he had taken in, had coaxed his old ailments back to the surface.

Yun Pan was frantic, turning in circles. She wiped him down with hot water, but the fever would not break. She had no choice but to press her face to the crack in the gate and call for help: “Please bring a physician. The Duke is ill — I beg you, please…”

Because the guard from before had received so many favors and shared some with his more trusted colleagues, the men on duty that night, hearing the commotion from inside, could not turn a blind eye. They reported to their superiors, and by midday a physician was brought into the courtyard. He took the pulse and declared it a deficiency of the spleen and heat in the lungs, requiring Six Gentlemen Decoction to regulate the condition. He wrote out ten or so formulas. The guard also sent in a small stove and a medicine pot. Yun Pan now had to learn to prepare the medicine herself — she asked the physician to explain the method in careful detail. First it had to be soaked, then three bowls of water simmered down to one… She watched the heat with utmost care, at one point poured it out and found the water too much, then poured it back and continued simmering. When it was finally done, she hurried to bring it to him. But this kind of medicine worked slowly, and through the night the fever continued to burn. Later a formula to clear heat and release the exterior was added, and the two prescriptions used together — only by the third day did things gradually begin to improve.

Through those days he had watched her busy herself, and felt deeply uneasy. She had been born the daughter of a Marquis household, married into a Ducal estate — she ought to have been enjoying every luxury. Who could have guessed that things would turn so abruptly, and after only half a year of comfort, she would be shut away with him here? Living now like a farmwife, familiar with starting fires and boiling medicine, with washing rice and making porridge — none of this was meant to be hers.

She came with the medicine bowl again. His heart was a tangle of feelings. He set the bowl aside and took her hand. “I have been thinking these past days,” he said, “and I have some regrets. If I had not fallen back — if I had used the military power in my hands and fought openly — I would not have implicated you like this.”

But Yun Pan said no. “Winning and losing are part of every soldier’s lot. To endure for a time is better than to act rashly. Only now, cut off in here, we don’t know what is happening out there. I imagine neither Duke has been idle. If you were still in your position, I would still be sick with worry day and night, with no peace. This way is not so different.”

He looked out through the doorway. The moon happened to be suspended beneath the lintel — a large halo of mist encircling it. There would likely be a strong wind tomorrow.

“The fifteenth day of the first month…” he murmured to himself. “By that day, all will be decided.”

Yun Pan heard this, and counting carefully in her head, calculated: twenty-five days more.

She did not press him on his plans. She only knew to follow where he led. Their love had not been forged in the fires of passion before their marriage; afterward it had grown like still water, day by day deepening its channels, becoming a strength that nourished them to the bone. She trusted him completely in everything. The small stumble of the present was not enough to frighten her. She was not worried at all — she believed with certainty that they would pass through this in peace.

He turned his gaze back to her and looked at her with quiet tenderness. “I am sorry I cannot prepare new clothes for you. This is the first New Year you have spent since marrying me.”

Yun Pan instinctively smoothed her hair. “There’s no mirror in here — I don’t even know what I look like now…” She covered her mouth in a shy laugh. “I must look quite terrible.”

But he shook his head. “Even in plain dress and simple hairpins, true beauty cannot be concealed.”

In truth, plain dress was not quite accurate. When she had come in she had put aside the sharp pins and ornaments, but she was still wearing silk and embroidered fabric. This created a rather incongruous picture — in this stark courtyard, a figure in fine clothing going about the business of starting fires and washing bowls. Anyone who did not know better, upon seeing it, would likely assume those splendid garments had been scrounged from some wealthy relation.

Thinking this, she laughed to herself, light-hearted. She was always this way — no matter how grim the circumstances, she never let herself sink into suffering. She was always at ease with what life brought, always warm and bright.

He watched her laughing face, and something deep-rooted inside him began, slowly, to change. He wanted to give her the best of everything, and yet he feared that once he stood above all others, there would be things she could not refuse, things not of her choosing — and then he would have no choice but to make her bear pain, to make her smile while swallowing tears. And if that came to pass, then all the time they had spent in this shared hardship would become the thing she most regretted for the rest of her life.

Yun Pan, for her part, had no wish to think about such far and complicated things. She only knew to keep him well for now. Whatever came later could be dealt with when it arrived.

Perhaps it is truly loving someone deeply that teaches you, little by little, to let go of certain things. This struggle for power was no game. Those who survived it would be the victors. In the face of life and death, everything else was beside the point. Having been through two times of watching him taken away under guard, she no longer let herself dwell on whether, in the future, she would be sitting in the great hall, dressed in full ceremonial headdress, weeping. If living meant ruling under heaven, then let it be so. Whatever happened — so long as he lived.

Only his body was now very difficult to bring back to good health. Though the fever had broken, the cough persisted without improvement. Sometimes at night the effort to suppress it became too much, and Yun Pan would simply sit up, wring a cloth in hot water, and press it warm against his back. It was the only remedy she had in these harsh circumstances. It could not cure the root of it, but it could ease the symptoms a little.

When the days were clear, she moved the reclining chair to the doorway. Slanting winter sunlight came through from outside the eaves, bathing him in brightness. He half-closed his eyes, smiling. “Even in my years in the army I was never exposed to the sun like this. I suppose my face will end up quite darkened.”

Before he had even finished speaking, a warm and fragrant handkerchief was pressed down over his face. She lifted one corner to uncover his brows and eyes, and chatted with him about small things, saying with anticipation: “Today is the day of the sweeping of dust. I wonder if there will be mixed vegetable porridge sent in tonight, and steamed buns with filling, and sugar melons.”

Shut away in this gate, cut off from all those lovely things — at first plain food had seemed manageable, but as time went on, the memory of good things would not leave them.

Li Chenjian gave her a small hope: “When the dust settles, I’ll take you to try all the things you haven’t eaten yet — Renshe House in the east of the city, Yicheng Tower in the west, the Liu Family tower by the Golden Beam Bridge, and Manwang’s place near the Cao Gate… each one has its signature dish, and I am sure there will be something among them that you love.”

She was delighted to hear this and, cupping her chin in her hands, said, “And Rulaozang’s Milk and Cream Shop — I’ve heard his frozen desserts are famous. I’ve never tried them.”

He happened to know something of this establishment. “Before, Hui Cun and Jingcun kept pestering to eat at Rulaozang’s. I had things bought for them. Apparently the best thing there is not the frozen dessert — it is the crystal soft cakes and the large and small soft pastries.”

A pity that just as the conversation was at its most spirited, he was overtaken by a cough again. Yun Pan hurried to rub his chest and smooth his breathing, and it slowly subsided. Then came a long silence. After quite a while, he suddenly said: “In truth, with this body of mine, if I were to wait quietly for the sovereign to issue an edict, there would be no opportunity whatsoever. It is precisely when the political situation is stirred into turmoil that conditions become more favorable for me.”

Yun Pan was a little surprised. He spoke with her honestly about many things, but matters this deep in their layers — never, until now.

It was the scar on his heart, the inadequacy he had never been willing to acknowledge. That he could speak of it openly today meant that for the rest of their lives, there were no more secrets to keep from her.

He let out a long, slow breath. He took the handkerchief from his face. His expression was calm — as if he were discussing someone else’s affairs.

“In my mind there lives a man of swallowing ambitions — one who at every moment wants to realize his grand designs and plant every minister and general beneath his feet. By ability and strategy, I am second to no one. And yet — I did not foresee it — a single cold arrow pierced the dream I had spent years building. Si Si, this is what fate is. These past days, I feel more and more that my strength fails me. I have been asking myself whether I am truly suited for that position — when the weight of governance presses down like a mountain, can I carry it?”

Yun Pan heard the withdrawal in his words, and she saw clearly the dangers of this world of office and power. More than before, she understood the worry he had never spoken aloud.

“You are afraid that if you lay down your armor, you will not be able to protect your family — is that it?” She leaned on the armrest of the reclining chair and looked at him, her large eyes unblinking. “You said it yourself: our situation is like rowing upstream — fall back one step and there is no return. The Duke of Chuguo must be eliminated. A man like that, left alive, will become a calamity. But what you fear more is that the Duke of Chenguo cannot be relied upon — is that right?”

He had been brooding before, but seeing that she had cut straight to the heart of it, a smile of recognition came over him despite himself. “Madam is perceptive and discerning — you truly understand everything.”

Yun Pan herself could not smile. She knew that though he appeared to be on good terms with the Duke of Chenguo on the surface, in private he was also on guard against him. She pressed further: “Has Elder Brother ever done anything to wrong you?”

He did not answer directly. He rose from the reclining chair and paced slowly away. “Everyone has their own interests. When the sky is falling, self-preservation comes first. As for loyalty — Elder Brother values the bond of brotherhood more than Third Brother does. But who can guarantee that in the future, with him as sovereign and me as his subject, he would still treat me as he does now? Before the sovereign took the throne, he and Father were on the closest terms. But after he took the throne, there were many tests and provocations. Father lived in anxiety day after day — I witnessed all of it. Father only received recognition when he died, and the palace bestowed on him the posthumous title Loyal and Commendable. I am afraid of ending up like Father — uneasy all my life, always fearing the sword suspended above his head would fall. Better to be the one who holds the sword than to live beneath it.”

But then — it is human calculation that cannot keep pace with heaven’s. He had not anticipated that a single clumsy soldier would shatter his heroic dream. And so when Hui Cun and Grandmother had told that story of the famous painting, he could not help but feel a wave of profound emotion. That was the way of things in this world — sometimes utterly without remedy.

Yun Pan thought of Huiying’s visit. “The day Madam Liang came, she said you had given the order that henceforth all intelligence concerning the Duke of Chuguo should be submitted to the Duke of Chenguo. There was purpose behind that, wasn’t there?”

He said yes. “I had her report anonymously. The more that is so, the more clearly Elder Brother will understand it was my arrangement. I am confined here and cannot advise him at every turn. I feared he might miss some piece of intelligence and let Third Brother take the advantage.” He paused, and a cold gleam entered his eyes. “I want them evenly matched — to wear each other down and leave both damaged. Then the eagle watching behind can move in, saving no small amount of effort…”

She heard all of this and then went quiet. After a moment she climbed up toward the head of the bed.

He turned to look, entirely baffled. “What are you doing?”

She pointed at the painting on the wall. “The oriole picture — if someone sees it and makes something of it, it will become yet another case to deal with.”

Li Chenjian froze, then could not help sighing. “Those are golden orioles, not the hunting orioles of the proverb.”

Yun Pan was not entirely convinced, and looked again carefully. “Are they orioles?”

He said of course. “Golden orioles and common wild buntings are different. The oriole flies in male-female pairs, and has black feathers interspersed in the wings and tail.” He pointed with a slender finger. “There — there, those marks. The wild bunting does not have them.”

Yun Pan said no, “The Compendium of Materia Medica states plainly that the wild bunting has a large head like a garlic clove, and a very plump body, with a ridge of fat along the back like a layer of cotton…” She gestured at the painting. “What is that if not a wild bunting?”

He said with some embarrassment, “I was painting fat orioles…” After considering it further, he acknowledged that if someone truly wished to twist the interpretation, it really would be impossible to explain away. In the end he let out a helpless sigh and waved a hand. “Very well, let’s take it down.”

Taking it down was not enough — it could not simply be left anywhere. Yun Pan carefully wrapped it in oilpaper, then pried up a brick from the floor to expose the earth beneath. She dug a hollow, buried the painting inside, and replaced everything. When it was all back in order, she dusted off her hands and said: “We’ll hide it here for now. After things settle down and there’s peace, we’ll come back and retrieve it.”

Then husband and wife squeezed together into one chair to sit in the winter sun. Li Chenjian looked out at the dry grass bent sideways in the wind and said with genuine interest: “The New Year is nearly here. Let me paint you a ceremonial face mask to play with. I’ll also ask the guard for a roll of fine string so we can make a kite — it ought to fly.”

Yun Pan was delighted. She looked at the remaining flour and said: “I can make porridge now — I think I’m already quite accomplished. From now on let’s not bother with noodles; kneading dough is too hard. But I can mix a paste, and using paper cut to the shape of a face we can make a mask and paint the ceremonial designs on it.”

In such times, one had to learn to take pleasure where one could find it.

Because Li Chenjian had been placed under confinement, there had been no need to alert too many people. News from the outside came slowly, and in truth he had already been returned to the Western Side Gate — yet word had only just reached the estate that the Court of Judicial Review had summoned him for interrogation.

With two people suddenly absent from the household, the place had grown quiet and cold. The Tai Furen could not withstand such upheaval, and moved through her days listless and without energy. The Princess Consort had been running about at first, seeking out old friends and trying to find some avenue of help. As time passed, every effort proved futile, and exhaustion set in. On top of that, having heard that one difficulty was piling onto the next, she fell thoroughly ill.

Madam Ming had visited twice, but with the end of the year approaching the Zhao family had begun preparations for the holiday exchange of gifts, and she truly could not spare herself. She had no choice but to summon Xiang Xu: “The Duke of Weiguo’s household will likely have no heart for New Year preparations this year. The Tai Furen and the Princess Consort are both ill now. We are close kin — we cannot just look after ourselves without a thought for them. I have had some New Year gifts prepared here. Take them over yourself. At least it shows a measure of our consideration, and in the days to come you’ll be able to look Ji Fu and Si Si in the eye.”

Xiang Xu said yes. He had only just come home after court had been dismissed; he went in to change his clothes and went straight out again to the Duke of Weiguo’s estate.

The household was running as usual in all other respects. A manservant presented his calling card at the gatehouse, and the gatehouse took the order and went inside to announce him. Xiang Xu stood at the foot of the steps and looked up. The placard over the gate had been taken down. The estate itself remained, but the title had already been withdrawn. Now the eaves stood empty, and looking at them one could not help but feel a weight of melancholy.

From within came the sound of footsteps. He turned his gaze to see Hui Cun come out with several serving women. Xiang Xu went forward and bowed, then gestured toward the carriage behind him. “My mother has prepared some New Year gifts and sent me to deliver them.”

Hui Cun thanked him gratefully, tucking her hands inside her sleeves. “Please thank Aunt for going to such trouble. The household is in some disorder right now, and I fear the courtesies may fall short — please forgive us, Elder Brother.” She turned to direct the serving women beside her: “Bring it all inside, and see that it is handled properly.”

Xiang Xu saw that she was wearing her cloak, and asked, “Is the Princess going out?”

Hui Cun nodded. “Mother asked me to go to the Duke of Chenguo’s estate and ask after my brother’s condition. I feel quite bad — Elder Brother has come all this way to bring us New Year gifts, and I should be inviting you in for tea…”

Xiang Xu was a civil official — he had been among the first to know of the impeachment, but the subsequent developments at the Court of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review were less clear to him. He too was concerned about what had become of the Duke of Weiguo and Si Si, so he said, “It is no trouble at all. You are going to the Duke of Chenguo’s estate, and I happen to be going that way — I will accompany you.”