“So… we just wait?” Zhang Xiangu asked tentatively.

Zhù Ying thought for a moment and said, “We still need to rent the house, don’t we? It’s not as though we’re just waiting for him. If I were suddenly given something to do right now, I’d complain I couldn’t find a spare moment.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Oh, but we came here because of him — now that he’s gone, we feel rather adrift.”

Zhù Da said, “What is there to feel adrift about? We could just settle here and earn our living!” He had done the sums — enough of Zheng Xi’s money remained to rent a place, and once they had a place, the only thing left was food.

Zhang Xiangu said, “Easy for you to say! Everything here is expensive!”

They kept drifting further from the point. Zhù Ying said, “He is not gone forever!”

Of course — the couple swung back to the subject and discussed the life ahead. Zhang Xiangu’s view was: if Zhù Ying went on working under Zheng Xi and truly managed to get some official post, they would no longer be able to go around doing fortune-telling rituals, and would have to carry themselves like a proper respectable household. What would they do then? They could not just sit around eating and doing nothing.

Zhang Xiangu said, “In the city there is no land to farm either. Would we just be idle? That feels…” She could not put words to the “feels” — something about it simply sat uneasily. She thought of the days spent living under Yu Miaomiao’s roof at the county seat: Yu Miaomiao had a whole large enterprise to manage. They had nothing like that.

Zhù Da said, “So what? Let the child be an official, and we keep following along — who’s going to stop that?”

Zhang Xiangu had not yet called him “delusional,” and Zhù Ying had already said, “Someone could.”

“What?”

“Have you ever seen Yu Ping or Master Huang’s father going around doing fortune-telling rituals?”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Don’t mind him — he just wants to show off! If there’s nowhere else to show off, he…”

“Mother!” Zhù Ying called once, then said to Zhù Da, “If you really find yourself idle and want to go back to your old ways, become a cleric — a Daoist or a Buddhist monk. That, they do not prohibit.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Like Daoist Xu?”

Zhù Da had once thought seriously about properly becoming a Daoist — it was far more reliable than being a spirit medium, with a place to stay and food to eat, stable. Now the appeal of being a Daoist had faded. He had just wanted to brag a little. He thought it over and let it go. “Never mind.”

He asked Zhù Ying if he could just sit in a Daoist temple and watch people doing things — was that all right?

Zhù Ying said, “Nothing wrong with that.”

Zhù Da brightened. “Then that’s fine.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Oh, keep still! The house isn’t even rented yet, nothing is settled, and here you are swaggering around!”

Zhù Ying said, “You’ve both worked hard for so many years — take a few days’ rest before figuring out what to do. Everything here is unfamiliar. If you really want to be busy, wait until spring — the weather will be warmer, you’ll know the neighborhood, and doing things then is better than diving in blind right now.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “That does make sense.”

Zhù Ying said, “Let me go take another look at houses — I can’t leave it all to the broker. Now that I know the streets a little better, let me harness the cart and take you around the capital.”

Zhù Da said, “Good!”

Zhang Xiangu called after her, “Be careful! Come back early!” Once Zhù Ying had gone, she pinched Zhù Da. “Are you trying to run her into the ground? We didn’t kill her as a baby, and now she’ll just be run into an early grave working for you? She’s my only child — if anything happens to her, I’ll make you pay with your life!”

Zhù Da felt a pang of guilt but was not about to admit it, and retorted in kind: “You’ve been getting bolder and bolder lately! What kind of wife talks to her husband like this?”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Of course I’ve gotten bolder! Whose fault is it for being such a useless husband?”

…

While the two of them bickered, Zhù Ying was out strolling the streets again. The capital’s character differed from other places in one above all: an abundance of variety. Without going further — every official with any capability wanted to find his way to the capital, and with them came their servants who brought the habits of each region with them.

Merchants too loved to converge on the capital. In the two market districts you could hear dialects from all corners of the realm. Perishable goods from distant places could not be transported in their original form, but most regional products had some presence here.

Zhù Ying walked past herbs from all corners of the realm, northern furs, southern pearls, fish and prawns shipped from coastal regions, and exotic goods from distant lands, marveling at how shallow her own experience had been until now. For the first time she saw camels. For the first time she saw foreign travelers with high noses and deep-set eyes. The snow had stopped, and many taverns were full again, with various performances and entertainments.

Zhù Ying did not go in to drink. She just watched from outside — and there were others like her. In that regard she did not stand out.

She then wandered through the residential neighborhoods. Heading to the less prosperous areas, she found that people in the capital lived far more densely packed than in the prefectural city. She had visited the cramped parts of the prefectural city too — there were even shanties there, people renting single rooms for a whole family — but none of it had the ingenuity of what she saw here. Capital residents had even invented a kind of subletting: renting a house themselves and then partitioning it into smaller sections to sublet to others.

The capital had an especially full complement of every trade and type of person — even the local thieves had sharper skills than in the prefectural city and brasher nerves to go with them. Zhù Ying, keeping to the principle of not making enemies on her first days in the capital, quietly slipped away from two pickpockets’ third hands — and then they seemed to take it as a challenge and began coming at her one after another.

Thoroughly peculiar!

Zhù Ying made two circuits through the East Market. The pickpockets kept coming in relays! Furious, she stopped being polite and started quietly dipping into their own coin pouches in return — and tossed everything into the roadside drainage ditch. She did not take a single coin for herself. She was here to become an official, not to be a thief!

Since it was winter and cold, the drainage ditch had frozen over, so it was not visibly foul or smelly. The pickpockets scrambled to the roadside ditch to retrieve their coin pouches. Zhù Ying thought: this is no solution either.

She grabbed the nearest one — a scrawny little boy, his winter clothes dirty enough to have a hard, blackened shell around him. All the pouches had gone into the ditch, and the boy was straining to bend toward it to fish them out. Zhù Ying grabbed him by the collar, dangling him like a small turtle in its shell.

Zhù Ying said, “Wasting your time on me will cost you business elsewhere. Come now, answer me one question and I’ll let you go — and give you ten coins.”

The boy wiped his nose on his sleeve and twisted to look at her. “What do you want?”

“Haunted houses — does the capital have any?”

The boy’s eyes darted quickly. “It does. What do you want them for?”

Zhù Ying said, “To meet the ghosts, of course.”

The boy was startled. “Then I’ll take you there. Let me go first — and where’s the money?”

Zhù Ying let go. She genuinely gave him ten copper coins — all proper minted currency. The boy tucked the two items separately in his clothes and said, “Follow me.”

He led Zhù Ying along for a bit. She said, “Don’t try to lead me to your den so your people can corner me. Did you finish your scallion pancake?”

The boy sniffed his own hands, breathed on them, looked himself all over, and found no clue. He asked, “How did you know?”

Zhù Ying said, “Street corner up ahead, you signaled to the one crouching by the wall. He went around the side and came here to report.” The snow on the ground preserved tracks quite well. Though some of the accumulated snow had been swept away, the confused tangle of footprints that remained was something most people could not read — but for Zhù Ying it was familiar territory.

The boy’s expression fell. “How did you know that?!”

“Never mind. The haunted house.”

Zhù Ying pointed to a nearby alley. “Go tell your friends — don’t follow. Let’s finish this business quickly and you can go back to your trade. That other group is already getting better pickings than you right now.”

The boy knew he had met a hard case and had no choice but to take her obediently to one “haunted house.” Zhù Ying looked the place over, then looked back at the boy. The boy was certainly younger than her, and shorter — and said with a hint of nervousness, “The most haunted house I know is this one. Terrible place — changed hands five times.”

Zhù Ying touched the lock — the trace of snow on it was already nearly melted, and a coating of grime had accumulated, suggesting it had not been touched in ages. She peered through the gap in the gate — the layout was clear at a glance.

This was a stand-alone walled courtyard — just one inner section, but still quite spacious — with three main rooms at the back, a side room to the west, a kitchen to the east, a simple horse stall, and a simple outhouse. The courtyard was large as well, with a grape arbor and a swing frame. Going by the “surviving” architecture, it had been grand and imposing when first built. Now even the gate panels had half-rotted away, the main doors were wide open, and the walls and roof tiles were all covered in dead weeds; the window paper was nearly all gone too. The horse stall’s roof was also mostly collapsed, and even the smell from the outhouse had mostly dissipated.

The boy said: “First it was an official’s place — not very senior, but the kind who could afford a house like this in the capital, which is impressive enough. Then apparently a maidservant hanged herself, and it started being haunted — so they had to sell it. A merchant bought it, and then the haunting continued. At midnight there was wailing, calling for someone’s life. The reputation spread. Someone bought it cheap and called in a Daoist priest to perform exorcisms — the priest said the ghost had been driven away, but the haunting continued. People said it was not a ghost but a fox spirit, throwing roof tiles and knocking on doors and windows in the night. The fourth buyer was a Daoist priest who set it up as a side household to keep a mistress — but when he came for a tryst, both ghost and fox spirit acted up together, set fire to the place, and the two of them fled in their bare skin — making quite a spectacle. So he sold it off again at a loss. The buyer was another merchant who originally intended to live there — came for the first night, went to the outhouse, and saw a white figure dart into the horse stall. It spooked his donkey, and the donkey trampled and broke his leg. While he was recovering from his injury, the ghost started demanding his life, and he moved out in a panic that same night. The house has sat here ever since…”

Zhù Ying was not afraid of ghosts. After all her years with her parents, she had never encountered a real ghost. She had seen real foxes, but never one that had cultivated itself into a charming beauty who might offer her a couple of buns out of charity — so she had set a trap, caught the fox, sold it for money, and the whole family had eaten well for several days of meat and white rice.

What gave her pause about this house was: even if the rent were cheap, she would probably have to rebuild the whole thing just to make it habitable! So whatever money she saved on rent would just go back out in reconstruction costs — and she would essentially be rebuilding someone else’s house at her own expense.

Zhù Ying shook her head and asked, “Any others?”

The boy did not want to take her anywhere else — he felt unlucky enough bringing her this far. He spread his hands and said, “I’m a pickpocket, not a climbing burglar.”

Zhù Ying asked, “What kind of people live in the house to the west?”

“Who knows? Seems to be a traveling merchant of some kind — also renting.”

Zhù Ying gave him five more coins, watched him bolt off like a wisp of smoke, then stood staring at this ruined property shaking her head. Labor costs in the capital were also high. She herself could patch and repair small things, even throw together a makeshift shed — but to actually rebuild a property like this required materials she did not have and workers she could not hire. That was beyond her.

It seemed the broker would have to earn his commission after all.

…

Zhù Ying went back to the broker’s and said directly: “Forget what Gan Dalang said. Just find me a haunted house — the cheaper the better. The more pronounced the haunting, the better.”

The broker pointed toward a distant cluster of grand estates and said, “Inside those places, no telling how many ghosts are lurking — they’re all quite fearsome, and none of them are cheap.”

Zhù Ying followed his gesture. Some distance away: pavilions and towers, layered rooftops — the district where the capital’s powerful and wealthy lived. Even the haunted houses there she could not afford — let alone the fact that people were living quite contentedly in them and had no intention of selling.

Zhù Ying said, “I don’t have much money, and I need to save what I have. I’m planning to buy a house at some point — will you still be in business?”

The broker watched this small child playing at being an adult and found it rather amusing. He said in earnest, “Do you know the price of housing in the capital? Even for a sixth-rank official in one of the ministries — one with no profitable position and no family income — he’d need to save for ten or twenty years. I can see you came into the city with Gan Dalang and you have a bit of a southern accent. Maybe you truly have prospects — but be careful: making a career in the capital is not easy.”

Zhù Ying said, “Is my accent still off in places?”

“Hmm — still a little bit of a lisp.”

Zhù Ying nodded. “Making a career in the capital is hard, you say?”

“Isn’t it? So many officials in this capital — out of all of them, how many with real names and reputations? And there are distinctions between clean and murky posts…” A man living at the foot of the emperor’s throne — even a mere broker could expound at length on affairs of the court. Zhù Ying did not press him back to business, simply holding what he said up against what Jin Liang and the others had said. Broadly speaking, this broker was actually not talking nonsense.

A half-grown child watched him with rapt attention, and the broker felt a rush of pride at playing the wise mentor. He said smugly, “Anyone who comes to the capital needs to rent or find housing. Penny-pinchers, the high-minded, the big spenders… I have seen them all! Also, people who want to sell — short of those royal residences and official mansions that one cannot touch, for the rest of the housing, I know a good deal about most of it.”

Zhù Ying said, “You’re the only broker in the city? Don’t your competitors share with you?”

“Now that’s something you don’t know! Yes, we are competitors — but we are also colleagues. You think those merchants in the market — they’re competitors too, but when they want to fix prices together…” He stopped — said too much! The broker regretted it. He should not have said so much to this young person. This child had some kind of charm! How did one question lead to all that spilling out?

He was quick on his feet, at least. Another person with less guard up would have had their whole genealogy extracted without knowing it.

Zhù Ying did not press further. She simply said, “And haunted houses?”

The broker said, “A fine young person like you — why do you want a haunted house? Look — there is one place, the location is actually decent, surrounded mostly by small property owners, tradespeople, and minor officials — not very wealthy, but not very poor either. You’d need a bit more money for it, though. It’s over in the east of the city, inside the Anyi Ward.” He gave an address.

Zhù Ying thought: that’s the place I just looked at. Too much of a ruin! She asked the price — bone-deep discounted for rental, and bone-deep discounted for purchase. But the discounted rental price still assumed the place was uninhabitable as-is and would need repairs, so it was actually no cheaper than renting a proper place. The purchase price was a hundred strings of coins — which would clean Zhù Ying out, require her to go into debt besides, and still leave her needing to rebuild from scratch with no money left.

Seeing that Zhù Ying had said neither yes to renting nor yes to buying, the broker breathed again and said, “Take my word for it — that house is cheap, yes, but it’s extremely dilapidated! The money you’d spend patching and fixing it would cover renting a decent place. In this capital, any house that’s the least bit habitable and a little less haunted gets snapped up easily enough. You’re not the first person who’s come looking for a haunted house. My advice: just rent a proper place. As it happens, I do have one right now — and out of respect for Gan Dalang, I’ll give you a twenty percent discount.”

The house was no longer in the Anyi Ward, but based on the description, the layout sounded similar — except it was a completely normal, unhaunted property with normal rope and bucket for the well, normal doors and windows. Zhù Ying said, “Let me take a look, then.”

The broker got the key and went with Zhù Ying to look the place over. The rent was one third of what she was paying at the inn for the private courtyard. She would have to manage her own provisions — firewood, grain, oil, and salt — but there was even a well in the courtyard. The broker said, “The well water isn’t very sweet — you’d want to fetch drinking water from outside. But for washing, it’s more than adequate. You don’t drink that much water, and the West Market isn’t far from here. There are small shops in the ward for odds and ends too. When you don’t feel like cooking, there are small food stalls nearby. With Gan Dalang’s goodwill, do you think I’d shortchange you?”

Zhù Ying looked all around, then went inside to check for drafts. Unfortunately there was still residual snow on the roof so it was impossible to tell if it leaked — though the floor inside was dry. She did a circuit and said, “There are mice.”

The broker said, “Where isn’t there mice? Even the palace traps them! And in summer there’ll be mosquitoes and flies!”

Zhù Ying asked, “Anything else?”

“Nothing better than this.”

Zhù Ying went with him to look at a few more properties. The whole day passed. As sunset approached, the broker asked, “How about it — decided?”

Zhù Ying said, “Are there any more?”

The broker felt a little deflated too. He pulled out a map of the capital and pointed things out. “Between us today, we’ve covered what there is to cover. Look here — this whole section is right against the palace, off limits, all officials’ residences, no room for even minor officials. We’re here — this neighborhood, lot of people packed close together, and this is really all we can look at. That section over there has mostly wealthy merchants — expensive. This one we should just forget, too run-down, I can see you wouldn’t want it…”

Zhù Ying quietly memorized this map and asked about all the unlabeled areas — what was this street, what was that ward. In the end she said, “I have a sense of things now. Tomorrow I’ll bring my parents to look. Then I’ll come back to you and decide.”

The broker had walked all day and if this led to a deal, it would not be wasted after all. He smiled. “That is wonderful — that way when Gan Dalang asks, I can account for things properly. Where is he, by the way? Haven’t seen him.”

“You know each other that well and you don’t know he went out on assignment with Sir Zheng?”

“Sir Zheng left the capital?”

“Not him. His son.”

“Oh! Which one — didn’t the Seventh Young Master already come back?”

“And now he has a new assignment.”

Zhù Ying said this. The broker looked at this child speaking with such ease, her appearance neat and rather fair and refined, with something of a small wealthy family’s younger son about her. The broker had met all sorts and could not quite place Zhù Ying’s exact identity. Was she perhaps some distant relation of the Zheng Marquis family?

He was trying to fish for information when Zhù Ying had already said her farewells.

…

The next day, Zhù Ying harnessed the cart, loaded up Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da, and the whole family went back to the broker. All the way there, Zhang Xiangu kept fretting. “We’ve gone out and left everything at the inn — someone might steal it! One of us ought to have stayed to keep watch. Goodness me, we should have taken turns!”

Zhù Da said, “Who stays? You? You’d want to see the house too!”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Rotation! We’re already talking about putting several strings of coins down for rent — isn’t it only right to take a few more looks?”

Zhù Da said, “Fair enough.”

The two of them babbled back and forth. Zhù Ying said, “We’re here. The money is put away safely — don’t worry.” The money Zheng Xi had given them had mostly been spent, but the remainder Zhù Ying had stashed up in the rafters — there was no danger of it going missing.

Zhù Da and Zhang Xiangu finally stopped.

They brought the broker along and all went to the house. Zhù Da and Zhang Xiangu were very satisfied — they had never in their lives had a decent house to call their own and manage, and though this was only a rental, they both felt an inexpressible stir of excitement and calm as they circled the courtyard, going in and out of the rooms. The furniture was simple but not crude; the kitchen even had a pot; and the kitchen area had a small remaining pile of chopped firewood.

Lay out the bedding, arrange whatever small things they had brought, and life could start right away.

The broker, sensing their eagerness, said, “Older brother and sister — shall we draw up a contract?”

Zhù Da asked, “How much?”

The broker glanced at Zhù Ying and quoted a figure with a smile. “The owner requires a deposit — one month’s deposit plus three months’ rent prepaid, with a three-month minimum. If you would like to rent for a full year, you pay the full year in advance and the deposit is waived. If you want to renew for next year, you pay the following year’s rent before the New Year. The New Year is not far off — if you’re renting for three months, you pay three months now. For a year, you’d pay through next New Year’s — I’ll waive this month for you, so you’d pay thirteen months total.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “This month only has three days left! What generosity!”

The broker said, “Then let me put it this way — I made a bold claim to Sanlang that I’d give a twenty percent discount. If you’re renting long-term, I’ll shave a bit more — twenty strings of coins for the whole year. How does that sound?”

“Twenty strings of coins?! Why not just rob us?!” Zhang Xiangu erupted. Back home, before she had ever left the county, her entire fortune had not been that large. Twenty strings of coins — less than half a year ago, that sum would have been enough to make her abandon her husband’s life. And here it only covered one year’s rent? She had braced for higher prices, but her internal estimate was about one string of coins per month. And now long-term rental?

“How is my Old Third supposed to earn this on a junior official’s pay — it all goes to rent?”

The broker heard from her accent that she was from outside the capital and said to Zhù Ying, “Sanlang — this is the capital. Under two strings of coins per month is a real bargain. Someone else would have to pay three strings to get this house. I am already running at no profit. This is the price out of respect for Gan Dalang. I’ve been walking you around — do you not think I’ve earned it? A better place will cost more. There is cheaper, of course — a communal courtyard, shared tenants. With your bearing and manner, sharing with water-carriers, cart-pullers, and sedan-chair bearers?”

Zhù Ying thought it over. In all honesty she really would not have minded — she had spent fifteen-some years living in poverty and hardship. But now that they had a little money in the capital, it was better to live more comfortably. And in an environment like that, with several dozen strings of coins on hand, someone would genuinely need to be watching them day and night.

Zhù Ying said to Zhang Xiangu, “Mother, let’s take this one! Rent a clean place and have a comfortable New Year! We will not be misers!”

She was still confident she could hold a position under Zheng Xi long-term. From her days wandering the capital streets, she had roughly gauged the cost of living. With the rent settled and a monthly salary, she could live comfortably and still save a little each month.

She planned to sell the goods she had brought up from the south in the next couple of days. The closer it got to the New Year, the more everything rose in price — she would sell for more. On this trip, having traveled under an imperial envoy’s party, she had brought far more goods than usual and paid no tax, and all food and lodging along the way had been covered — so the goods had effectively been brought straight from the prefectural city with no overheads beyond the purchase price. The profit from just the two-city price differential was likely to be twenty strings of coins or more. No wonder merchants loved to travel along with official parties.

Zhù Ying said, “Let’s sign the contract — come with me to get the money.”

The broker said, “Agreed — twenty strings of coins?”

“Twenty strings.”

The broker said, “I’ll go back to get the written contract and have a cart ready. The house owner has placed management entirely in my hands — that’s why he could give you this price and make the deal so simply. I’m not deceiving you. If I were deceiving you, wouldn’t I have Gan Dalang coming down on me? I also have the written authorization from the owner to show you here. He is not in the capital right now and would rather have it sit empty and gather dust than attract foxes by having it unoccupied. Otherwise I could not simply act on my authority to give you a price like this. I would not cheat you.”

He went to fetch the contract and brought Zhù Ying back to get it. Zhù Ying read over the owner’s written authorization and the contract document. He drove a cart back to the inn, and the exchange was made — money in one hand, key in the other, each party keeping their half of the split contract.

As he left, the broker smiled. “Sanlang — a good word to Gan Dalang when you see him! And future business, keep it in mind.” This transaction had not yielded a great deal of profit, but the person Gan Ze had brought in had left him with a note to remember — a connection to the Marquis’s residence warranted watching. He could always raise the rent next year.

…

On the other side, the three of them were very excited. Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da complained aloud that it was “expensive,” while inwardly feeling a quiet pride and pleasure at having conducted such a large transaction.

Zhù Ying said, “We move first thing tomorrow.”

Zhù Da said, “Already paid for the inn.”

“We stay how many days and pay for how many — it was agreed on those terms. The money is on deposit at the desk — just settle up.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “I want to move in right now!”

Zhù Da said, “Wasting lamp oil! And the curfew is starting — you want to get picked up?”

That night, neither Zhang Xiangu nor Zhù Da slept well.

The next morning, Zhù Da said, “I’ll deal with loading the cart — Old Third, you go to the desk and sort out the account!” Zhù Da could barely read three hundred characters and could not reliably compute sums above three strings of coins. Not because he was unintelligent — it was simply that daily life had never required him to work with sums larger than that.

Zhù Ying had been different from an early age — she was quick, and beyond that, Si A’Weng and Yu Miaomiao had both required the tutor to teach the children at least a little basic arithmetic — their households needed the children to understand some sums.

Zhù Ying squared accounts with the innkeeper. The innkeeper said, “Congratulations, congratulations — all settled in now.”

Zhù Ying said, “Likewise, likewise.”

“If relatives come to visit, remember to come and give me your business!”

Zhù Ying thought: what relatives do I have? Still she said, “Certainly, certainly.” The innkeeper wrapped up a small packet of braised meat as a housewarming gift. Zhù Ying said, “Many thanks.” She took it, then untied a string of coins for the innkeeper as a tip for the inn’s staff: “Just arrived in the capital, and I don’t have much money — a small token of appreciation.”

With that token, the inn servants were happy to give an extra hand, and the innkeeper told her one or two things about where he sourced provisions — prices for firewood and charcoal, for example, and for grain and flour. Since winter meant sparse vegetables, he told her which shops nearby had good dried goods that could be soaked and used. Zhù Ying also asked him about fodder.

The innkeeper said, “If you have other uses for it, then keep a mule. For ordinary households, don’t keep one — rent one the few days you need it, and you can hire the driver along with the cart. I’ll give you two bundles of feed — enough to last until you sell the mule.”

By the time the family of three had arrived at their new place, unlocked the gate, unharnessed the mule — and shut the gate — Zhù Da and Zhang Xiangu were already running laps in the courtyard, laughing and exclaiming, “Oh, oh, we have a house to live in!”

Zhang Xiangu said, “How shall we arrange it? I say — let’s not do it like the inn. One bed in the east room, one bed in the west room, everyone spread out — everyone with a good bed to sleep in! I looked at the inn setup — the side room also has a bed, bring it into the west room! So what if it wastes a bit of charcoal — Old Third is also getting older, she should have her own room.”

Zhù Da did not even quarrel with her now. “Over there — build a little shelter, just enough to keep the snow out, put those goods in there. Let me take a look — there should be a root cellar by the kitchen…”

Everyone got to work. Zhù Ying did not take the main room but set herself up in the west wing — the west wing was smaller than the main rooms but still three sections, with the door facing east. She wanted to live alone.

The previous occupants had possibly lived in a similar arrangement — the main room for the master and his wife, the west wing for a son who studied, with a simple writing table and a chair in the center section. There were no writing implements — but Zhù Ying had her own: two brushes, a stack of paper, two copybooks, a plain inkstone, and an ink stick.

The north section had two simple wooden cabinets. Below the window was also a short couch. The few books she had bought in the prefectural city were placed on the book cabinet in the north section — solitary and forlorn-looking.

She set aside the south section as a bedroom. The bedroom had a bed, a washstand, a clothes cabinet, and a small dressing table — the mirror had already been taken away. Zhù Ying placed her simple makeup box on the table — inside just a small mirror, a comb, a few cloth ties and a few hairpins. She spread her bedding and laid it out. Her clothes went in — they would not fill even one shelf of the cabinet.

When Zhang Xiangu called her to move into the west room of the main house, Zhù Ying had already finished arranging everything.

Zhang Xiangu had to sort out the main house herself — lay the bedding, put out the clothes. The two of them had no books, and the west room of the main house was pure decoration, but it did have a small spirit niche — whatever deity had been here before had already been taken. Zhang Xiangu said, “I’ll find a bodhisattva to put in here.”

Zhù Da stretched out on the bed. “Ah — comfortable!”

Neither the mother nor the daughter had ever lived without worry the way they had during those few days under Yu Miaomiao’s roof. For Zhù Da, the present moment was surely the finest of his life.

Zhù Ying said, “Still need a washbasin and a kitchen knife. Let me change the lock on the main gate — take down their lock and put ours up. Keep the key, each of us one copy. The key they gave us, I’ll hold onto — return it when we leave.”

Hearing how well she had it in hand, Zhù Da had no intention of contributing further. He said, “You go — I’ll rest a bit and then go water the mule. If I can scrounge some spare timber scraps and find a hammer, I’ll build us a little shelter. We need nails.”

With Zhù Da on hand, the heavy lifting was his. Many physical tasks around a spirit-medium household were done by hand anyway. Zhù Ying went out and bought four copper basins, several wooden basins, new bowls and chopsticks and a kitchen knife, plus a few oil lamps and a bottle of lamp oil, some salt, oil, soy sauce, and vinegar.

That afternoon’s meal they did not have time to eat. The family worked late into the day. By evening, Zhù Ying made dinner herself, with Zhang Xiangu keeping the fire. Zhù Da sat in the central room waiting for the dishes to be served, sipped a little wine, and said, “Old Third — where did you learn to cook?”

Zhù Ying said, “Always could.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Did we ever have money to buy things for you to practice on?”

Zhù Da said, “You — you’ve done so much, put out so much effort, yet when you speak your mouth has no mercy. Three kowtows put off by nine farts — how can anyone feel gratitude?”

“Don’t make trouble and I’ll already be grateful!” she retorted.

They bickered for a round, then both said, “Now we can have a good rest and wait for Sir Zheng to come back!”

Zhang Xiangu was already thinking: “I saw there’s a root cellar over that way — should we stock up a little before the New Year? Things like firewood and grain last well, and they’ll get dearer at New Year’s time. If Old Third is busy by then, and the two of us go shopping with too much to buy, we might not be able to work out the accounts.”

Zhù Ying said, “Let’s do it!”

Zhù Da clapped his hands. “Settled! Have a few drinks yourself!” He poured Zhang Xiangu a cup as well. “Not easy — none of us has had it easy. Both of you have worked hard.”

Zhang Xiangu set down her cup and wiped her eyes. “Old wretch — what are you saying now.”

…

The next morning, the family of three hitched the cart again, first bought some firewood, then two sacks of grain and some dried vegetables, and piled it all on the cart.

Zhang Xiangu sat in the cart, leaning against the grain sacks. Zhù Da sat on the cart shaft and watched the passing scenery on the street. He was so pleased he started singing a couple of lines, drawing looks from passersby. Some people quietly laughed. Zhù Da did not mind. Zhang Xiangu said halfheartedly, “You’ve gone funny.” Then softly began humming along.

Zhù Ying did not sing, but listened with a smile. She was not driving quickly — meeting people, horses, or fancy carriages, she made way each time. She thought: keeping a mule and cart really was inconvenient — she should sell it in a few days. When she needed one, renting made more sense.

Up ahead came another party of riders. She pulled aside several times, making room. But this group behaved like crabs — sideways through the world — and nearly scraped her cart. One of the riders snapped his whip and actually hit the side of her cart.

Zhù Ying raised her eyes and looked. Those riders were also looking her way.

The lead rider asked, “Why did you fall behind, Old Two Yin?”

“Old Two Yin” said, “This wretched cart blocked me for a moment — lucky my horse didn’t graze it!”

Zhù Ying would have retreated further had she not left it too late. Wasn’t the lead rider none other than Zhou You? She had no choice but to nod a greeting. Zhou You gave a “hmph” and turned away, whipping his horse forward.

From a distance, the whole group went into a restaurant. The words they spoke there Zhù Ying could no longer hear. One of the group said to Zhou You, “Zhou Lang, do you know that young man? Looks decent enough, not afraid of anything either — quite composed. Whose roving miscreant is he?”

“Get out of here! I don’t have that sort of appetite!” Zhou You said. “An infuriating little wretch — absolutely reeks of Zheng Xi! Ha! Now I see why he looks so familiar — that manner is just like Zheng Xi! A chip off the old block!”

The group knew of his long-standing, one-sided rivalry with Zheng Xi, and several of them had also had their own experiences being held up unfavorably against Zheng Xi. One of them said, “Zhou You — we can’t touch Zheng Xi, but this kid — want me to get back at him for you?”

Zhou You said, “Sure!”

He said it only as an offhand remark, but the person who heard it remembered the answer. The group ate and drank their fill and each went home. The one who had offered to give Zhou You satisfaction, once sober, remembered there was something to be done about this. And as it happened, he was a certain government official’s son — a young master of some standing.

The sort of young master who kept company with Zhou You was, naturally, not a good one. He called in a minor runner from the Metropolitan Prefecture: “There’s a kid I want you to find. Give him a lesson.”

Such small matters required no reporting to the young master’s father. The runner said, “Easy done!”

That day, before the curfew bell, Zhù Ying had simmered a pot of rice and used the crust to make crispy fried rice crackers with broth poured over, and cooked a fish as well. The family was eating contentedly when the gate was pounded open!

Zhù Da lurched. “Isn’t the lawsuit done? Why…”

Zhù Ying went to open the gate. A squad of yamen runners stood blocking the doorway. “Are you Zhù Ying?”

“Yes.”

“Hmph! Fair-faced little punk, not very tall — that’s the one! Take them in!”

An iron chain was thrown around Zhù Ying before she could dodge it — and she certainly could have dodged it. The difficulty was what came after: resisting arrest was no small matter. She let them chain her and asked, “What misunderstanding is this? What have I done?”

The runners said, “You don’t know what you’ve done? Keep still! Move!”

Zhù Da and Zhang Xiangu rushed forward, only to have the runners level their broad sabers across the threshold, pushing them back.

Zhù Ying said, “Father, Mother — don’t panic! Shut the gate. If it comes to it tomorrow, go to the inn and leave a message for Elder Brother Gan when he comes back…”

“Come on with you!” The runners yanked the chain roughly, dragging Zhù Ying away. That night, she was tossed straight into a cell.