Hua Yitang was as good as his word and truly set up a running banquet at the Hua Family’s Ninety-Nine Estates for ten full days.

Whether Ling Zhiyan had put on any weight, Lin Sui’an could not tell; but the Pure Gate disciples led by Jin Ruo showed an average weight gain of five jin across the board. The five major sects that had newly joined the Pure Gate followed their example to the letter, mastering the art of shameless meal-cadging to perfection within ten days. They went home every day with their bellies swollen round as cricket cages, and only then would they consent to leave.

On the day Hua Yitang departed Yidu, half the city’s populace turned out. Outside Changxuan Gate the crowd jostled shoulder to shoulder, and it might be more accurate to say they had come for the spectacle than to see him off.

Prefect Chi and Senior Clerk Xia clung to Hua Yitang and Ling Zhiyan’s sleeves, one on each side, pouring out their hearts while tears soaked their collars. Behind them, the five-section administrators of the Yidu prefectural office, Wu Da, the agents, and others were all lined up waiting their turn. The Hua Second Master couldn’t even get close enough to touch Hua Yitang, and was anxiously circling about in agitation.

On Lin Sui’an’s side, things were far more relaxed. The Pure Gate’s ears and eyes spread across the world; they could stay in contact whenever and wherever they liked — there was none of that “parting is easy but meeting is hard” sorrow of separation. They even had the leisure to gather in a cluster and exchange gossip.

Jin Ruo, in his capacity as the Tang Kingdom’s foremost gossip, led with something sufficiently explosive for his very first sentence: “At the third quarter past the You hour yesterday, Ling the Sixth went to the Liu Family rouge shop at Number 25 on West Tower Street in the East Market and bought a box of rouge!”

Lin Sui’an: Oh ho!

“Tell me the details.”

Jin Ruo smacked his lips. “At one quarter past the You hour, Ling the Sixth specifically changed his clothes and put on a bamboo hat, then left the Hua Family’s Ninety-Nine Estates, making his way furtively to the East Market. Since the East Market was near closing time, the streets were quiet and the shops lightly attended. He wandered up and down the East Market for several streets — heh, had he not been dressed so conspicuously, our Pure Gate disciples might not have paid him special notice — and finally made his way to West Tower Street. He circled outside the Liu Family rouge shop no fewer than seven and a half times before he finally went in. He emerged over half a double-hour later, carrying an extra box — it was rouge from the Liu Family shop.”

Lin Sui’an blinked. Gan Hongying and the other Pure Gate disciples also blinked rapidly in quick succession.

“Liu Niangzi —” Lin Sui’an beckoned Liu Qingxi over from a distance. Everyone formed a circle, lowering their voices. “Word has it Judicial Inspector Ling was at your shop yesterday and bought a box of rouge?”

Liu Qingxi covered her mouth with a smile. “It was the same item I gave Lin Niangzi at the Su Family ancestral estate for the ceremony last time. It’s called Spring Sorrow on the River.”

Lin Sui’an recalled — Ling Zhiyan had indeed paid a great deal of attention to that box of rouge at the time.

Liu Qingxi added, “Spring Sorrow on the River comes in forty-six shades. Judicial Inspector Ling tried every one of them on his wrist, and in the end selected Flowing-Light Cherry Blossom. He also chose the packaging box. Such care can only mean he intended to give it as a gift.”

Lin Sui’an asked, “How much was the rouge?”

Liu Qingxi replied, “Five strings of cash per box.”

Everyone: “Ohhh!”

Jin Ruo said, “That stingy old Ling the Sixth actually dug this deep into his pockets for such expensive rouge — the person he wants to give it to couldn’t possibly be —”

Everyone turned in unison. In the center of the crowd, Hua Yitang was holding court with easy grace and charm on all sides. Ling Zhiyan wore a faintly uneasy expression, his gaze drifting to one side from time to time, evidently looking for someone. Then, his eyes lit up. He clasped his hands in a salute and stepped back from the crowd, heading directly toward a carriage.

It was a Hua Family carriage. Presumably due to the congestion in the streets, it had arrived late. A delicate jade hand lifted the curtain, and a woman descended wearing a white gauze veil hat. A scarlet sash billowed about her like a rosy cloud — a figure of peerless grace.

The Pure Gate disciples, with their sharp eyes, recognized her at once: “It is the Hua Family’s Third Young Miss.”

Lin Sui’an was tremendously excited. She signaled Jin Ruo to follow her, and they slipped around to the base of the city wall. Crouching and concealing themselves, they held their breath and listened. A string of Pure Gate disciples’ eavesdropping ears sprouted behind her.

Ling Zhiyan walked with great strides toward Hua Yimeng. He first offered a perfectly proper bow. Hua Yimeng seemed somewhat surprised, and drew back the white gauze of her veil hat — a face of world-toppling beauty caught the sunlight, and the Pure Gate disciples all drew in a sharp collective breath.

Ling Zhiyan produced the rouge box and presented it with both hands. “I have caused offense to you previously and have come specifically to make amends.”

Hua Yimeng looked puzzled. “When have you offended me?”

Ling Zhiyan’s throat bobbed rapidly. With Lin Sui’an’s sharp hearing, she could even catch the sound of him swallowing. “During the great battle at Taoyuan Village… Third Young Miss’s sleeve was torn… I, Ling… I…”

Hua Yimeng understood at once. “Judicial Inspector Ling removed his outer robe and draped it over my shoulders at the time. That was a kindness. Where is there any offense in it?”

Ling Zhiyan’s entire neck had gone red. He raised the box a little higher and buried his head between his arms. “I have come specifically to make amends!”

Hua Yimeng tilted her head and fixed her gaze on the top of Ling Zhiyan’s head, then blinked. “Does Ling Sixth Master know what it means when a man gives a woman rouge?”

Ling Zhiyan looked up. “Hmm?”

Hua Yimeng asked, “Has Ling Sixth Master ever given rouge to another woman?”

Ling Zhiyan shook his head.

“Then why give it to me?”

“Naturally, to make amends.”

“Then why rouge specifically, and not something else?”

“… Because I saw Liu Niangzi give Lin Niangzi a box of rouge last time. The colors were lovely, and I thought you would certainly like it…”

Lin Sui’an pressed her palm to her forehead. Jin Ruo was so pained he covered his face and hunched his shoulders, his belly quivering in silent laughter. “Old Ling the Sixth, you really are something else!”

Hua Yimeng gazed steadily at Ling Zhiyan for a long moment, then reached out and took the rouge. The corner of her mouth curved upward. “Very well, I accept it.”

Ling Zhiyan let out a great sigh of relief, straightened up, and clasped his hands in another salute.

Then, without warning, Hua Yimeng stepped forward suddenly. Ling Zhiyan gave a start and hastily stepped back — only to be hauled back in place by Hua Yimeng.

Hua Yimeng tilted her face up and smiled radiantly. “From now on, you may only give rouge to me. You are not permitted to give rouge to any other woman.”

Ling Zhiyan’s eyes went blank. His tongue lost some of its control. “… Alright.”

Hua Yimeng broke into laughter, lowered her veil again, exchanged a gesture of greeting in the direction of Hua Yitang, and turned to board the carriage, heading back into the city.

Ling Zhiyan stood in a daze staring after the departing carriage for a long time before he came back to himself. He furrowed his brow in confusion. “… Does she like the rouge or not?”

Lin Sui’an was flabbergasted. “You couldn’t understand even that?”

Can Judicial Inspector Ling truly be that — obtuse?!

Jin Ruo gave him a sidelong look. Master, what right do you have to criticize others?

“Greetings to Lin Niangzi!” A voice suddenly rang out from behind her. Lin Sui’an turned — and went pale with shock. The Hua Second Master had brought an entire cohort of Hua Family juniors, who dropped to their knees in a neat, orderly formation. “What are you doing?!”

Hua Second Master said, “We younger members were blind to your greatness before and were disrespectful to Lin Niangzi. Today we absolutely must make up for it!”

With that, the Hua Family juniors, swift as thunder, knocked their foreheads against the ground three times toward Lin Sui’an with resounding thumps and called out in unison, “The children of the Hua Family pay their respects to Lin Niangzi!”

Lin Sui’an was too slow to stop them. Her outstretched hand froze in midair. The Hua Second Master and his cohort wore expressions of synchronized sincerity, and showed absolutely no inclination to rise.

Lin Sui’an: “……”

“When an elder receives a gift of respect from juniors, red envelopes are customary, you know.” Hua Yitang came sauntering over with his little fan tapping away, grinning until his eyes curved into crescents. Mu Xia followed closely behind with a large tray, distributing gold leaves to everyone present.

The Hua Family juniors chorused “Thank you, Lin Niangzi! Thank you, Fourth Great-Uncle (Great-Great-Uncle)!” and scampered away merrily.

Lin Sui’an thought: What on earth are these people up to?

Hua Yitang leaned in close. “You’re my partner — by seniority, you are naturally their great-grandmother.”

Lin Sui’an rolled her eyes enormously. “This is a blatant swindle.” She picked up Qian Jing and walked away.

Hua Yitang’s little fan went still. He puffed out his cheeks. “Even that, you couldn’t understand?”

Jin Ruo, who had observed the entire proceedings, felt a deep and boundless sympathy:

Never mind that the Hua Family siblings were born with faces that invited admiration — when they ran into this pair of dunces, namely his master and Old Ling the Sixth, they could only come away crestfallen!

Ten li outside Yidu, sure enough, there was also a “Ten-Li Pavilion.”

The Ten-Li Pavilion stood at the starting point of two major roads — one heading north to the capital, one heading east to the Eastern Capital.

The tenth-month wind had turned cool; fallen leaves rustled in the breeze. The entertainer Xue Qiuniang sat within the pavilion, cradling her pipa, and after a graceful bow to the assembly, began to play the piece called “Autumn Moon Bids You Stay.”

This was the first time the company had heard this piece in its entirety — perhaps also the last. The melody was plaintive and full of longing, like a crescent moon trapped at the bottom of a well, yearning for the boundless sky above.

When the final note faded, everyone wore expressions tinged with sadness.

Ling Zhiyan swung into the saddle, took up his reins, and clasped his hands in a farewell salute. “On this parting road, the green mountains endure and the waters run long. I sincerely wish you all to take good care —”

Before he could finish, everyone interrupted him.

Hua Yitang said, “If you find yourself short of funds, you may borrow from the Hua Family’s money house. I’ll charge you one-tenth interest — that’s generous of me, is it not?”

Jin Ruo said, “If you miss us, send word through the Pure Gate’s channels. Three-tenths off the usual fee.”

Fangke said, “If you find any interesting corpses, keep the post-mortem records.”

Lin Sui’an said, “If anyone bullies you, wait for me to return to the Eastern Capital and I’ll beat them back for you.”

Ling Zhiyan stared back at them in a daze. A glimmer of moisture shone in his eyes. His throat worked. It seemed a thousand things rose to his lips, yet in the end not a single word came out. He wheeled his horse around cleanly, raised the reins, and rode away at full gallop into the distance — one rider, alone.

Hua Yitang let out a sigh. “Ah, really now — what possessed all of you to be so sentimental without reason? You nearly made Sixth Master cry.”

Jin Ruo agreed, “Quite so — compared to us, Old Ling the Sixth is far too pitiable. If I were him, I’d be crying too.”

Lin Sui’an quietly assessed their own party: two four-horse carriages, eight horses, all graciously provided by the Hua Second Master — all “Snow-Flight” steeds, snow-white in color, well-fed and robust. They were not quite as beautiful as the prized Pearl Steed, but were still one-in-a-hundred fine horses, each worth fifty gold pieces.

Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise each drove a double-horse freight cart; pots, bowls, ladles, and pans; medicinal herbs, fresh fruits, pastries, felt blankets, carpets, and sun-shading canopies — everything was provided for. Hua Yitang’s wardrobe alone filled one entire large cart to the brim. The procession moved in magnificent splendor, gold bells chiming, wheels rolling — and as ostentatious as could possibly be imagined.

Fortunately, Mu Xia had had the foresight to plant Hua Family banner-flags on the carts in advance. When mountain bandits and highwaymen on the road spotted the Hua Family crest, they knew better than to tangle with them, and one and all furled their flags and stepped aside to let the party pass.

From Yidu to the capital took them through three cities — Yicheng, Pancheng, and Liucheng — and would require roughly twenty days of travel. The road was long, and conversation was the only way to pass the time. Once they began talking, Lin Sui’an made the mortifying discovery that yet again, the geographical knowledge stored in her head was failing to match up with reality.

Lin Sui’an said, “Isn’t the capital in Shaanxi? Why is it in Taiyuan?”

Yita replied, “Swine-brained human! Shaanxi is another name for Longxi!”

“What?”

Jin Ruo sighed in resignation. “Master, you are at least the wielder of Qian Jing, the face of our Pure Gate — being this directionally hopeless is far too embarrassing for words.”

Lin Sui’an scratched her head. “So the capital is actually on the Jiang Family of Taiyuan’s turf?”

Jin Ruo replied, “Did you even need to ask?”

Hua Yitang fanned himself smugly. “As I said, His Majesty always picks prime territory for me.”

Lin Sui’an thought: Good heavens — straight out of the tiger’s den and into the wolf’s lair!

Jin Ruo stuffed a white sugar cake in his mouth. “I’ve been unable to reach the Pure Gate’s branch altar in the capital for a while now. Setting out for the capital — our prospects are uncertain!”

Fangke, who had been resting with his eyes closed, gave a faint snort. “No matter. A pig unafraid of scalding water. The more lice, the less the itch.”

His dry humor made everyone burst out laughing. They went on sipping tea, eating fruit, gnawing on dried meat, chatting and dozing, traveling merrily and cheerfully all the way to Yicheng.

By administrative rank, Yicheng was an upper county — in the middle-to-lower tier among the Tang Kingdom’s ten grades of counties — but the moment the name “Yicheng” was mentioned anywhere in the Tang Kingdom, there was not a soul who did not know it.

Over thirty years before, Yicheng had been nothing but a frontier outpost, located on the Tang Kingdom’s national border, beyond which lay the Tuzan Kingdom, which had coveted Tang territory for many years. The Tuzan people excelled at pastoral nomadism; their cavalry was ferocious in battle. They had harassed the Tang border for generations, committing acts of banditry and abduction, and the common people of the borderlands lived in unceasing misery — until thirty-two years past, when the Wan Family of Qingzhou, at the cost of half their clan’s lives, slaughtered nearly ten thousand Tuzan cavalry at Yicheng. This was known in history as the Great Victory of Yicheng.

After the Great Victory of Yicheng, the Tuzan Kingdom was gravely weakened. Combined with internal strife that brought decline upon the kingdom, it perished two years later. The Tang Kingdom seized the opportunity to reclaim lost lands, and over more than thirty years gradually incorporated Tuzan territory into the Tang realm, achieving full unification.

The Wan Family of Qingzhou became famous in a single battle, rising from obscure military household stock to the rank of a great aristocratic clan. At their peak, they could stand alongside the Ling Family of Xingyang; but when peace descended and the nation had no further use for warfare, the Wan Family had no arena for their talents, gradually grew weaker, and in the end could only rank below the Five Surnames and Seven Lineages.

Lin Sui’an gazed upon the famed Yicheng before her. Its city walls were built of black rock, soaring to the sky; weathered through years of frost and wind, the outer rockface had grown somewhat mottled. In the last rays of the setting sun, it resembled a general bearing halberd and spear — standing guard in magnificent, battered armor among the undulating ranges of mountains.

Following the flow of people through the city gate, they were met by a long, broad street. On both sides, the green stone slabs were uneven and pitted — the impression of vast numbers of horseshoes could still be made out, vestiges, presumably, of a road once used by armies on the march.

Time changes all things. The old military road was now packed with peddlers, vegetable hawkers, earthenware pots, meat-chopping boards, glutinous rice soup, fresh meat porridge, pears, goose eggs, feather dusters, and woodblock print vendors.

The woodblock print vendors were the most distinctive. Each vendor carried two large round baskets on a shoulder pole: one basket held carving blocks for printing images — all negative-relief wood panels about two feet square — and the other was stuffed full of scrolls of pre-printed woodblock art. If you wanted a pre-printed scroll, you simply pulled one out; if you preferred to pick a block and have it printed on the spot, that was also an option. Buyers came in an endless stream; throughout the market, nearly everyone had a copy.

Lin Sui’an had never seen prints sold in this fashion before. She was genuinely curious, and hopped off the cart to have a look.

The vendor, catching sight of the carriage behind Lin Sui’an, recognized immediately that his customers were persons of wealth or status. He launched into an introduction with tremendous enthusiasm. “Little miss must be a visitor from out of town! These sacred woodblock prints are unique to our Yicheng. The carving blocks are all made from peach wood that’s been consecrated; the ink used is also a Yicheng specialty — it wards off evil and invites blessings. Buy one, take it home, and paste it on your door. It will protect your household and keep you safe!”

Lin Sui’an understood at once — this must be an early form of door god imagery.

“What sort of images are available?” Hua Yitang had also descended from the carriage and drifted over behind Lin Sui’an. “How much are they?”

The vendor said, “Young master, these sacred woodblock prints are not something you ‘buy.’ You say you ‘welcome’ them — because these images depict the immortals of heaven, you see.”

Lin Sui’an was amused. “What immortals are available? Is there a God of Wealth?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” The vendor unrolled a scroll and held it out to Lin Sui’an. “Have a look at this one — right now the most celebrated and revered figure in all the Tang Kingdom: the Iron-Blooded Flower God of Wealth. Not only does he bring fortune, he also vanquishes demons and monsters, and keeps the realm safe and at peace!”

Lin Sui’an couldn’t make sense of what she was hearing. What a peculiar-sounding God of Wealth. She unrolled the print and immediately stared with jaw dropped.

The immortal in the picture wore long, wide-sleeved robes billowing in the wind, feet treading lotus flowers, body wreathed in celestial light. The countenance was five parts handsome, five parts martial, impossible to identify as male or female. But most outlandishly of all — the left hand held a gold leaf the size of a palm with an elegant, raised-finger gesture, while the right hand brandished a chopping blade four feet in length. The artistic styles were utterly mismatched.

Lin Sui’an: “……”

Hua Yitang: “……”

The vendor was still lecturing in enthusiastic detail. “This Iron-Blooded Flower God of Wealth once slew a demon dragon in Qingzhou, and bestowed the Hundred Flowers Tea of the Immortals upon the people, protecting the common folk of Qingzhou and allowing them to live and work in peace and contentment. His merit is immeasurable! They say that all who are fortunate enough to encounter this divine immortal may enjoy great wealth and undying glory!”

Lin Sui’an silently looked at Hua Yitang, the corner of her eye twitching. This image in the print looks rather like you —

Hua Yitang tapped the blade in the divine image’s hand with his fan, laughing so hard his shoulders were shaking. And half of it is you, you know.

Short Skit

Ling Zhiyan on the road back to the Eastern Capital, silently gnawing his dry rations, recalling the fragrance of Mu Xia’s grilled meat and the skill with which Yita brewed tea — he sighed with ten thousand grievances.

The ancients did not lie to me: truly, it is easy to grow accustomed to luxury, and hard to return to simplicity!

New arc begins — spent four days mapping out the outline (weeping rivers of tears)

This is the final arc! All the threads begin to draw together.