Hua Jie’s household registration turned out to be slightly more complicated to obtain. She had to think of a surname on the spot.

The document clerk asked, “Your full name?”

If she were registering under Zhù Ying’s household, she could simply take the surname Zhù. But for a separate household, she had no connection to anyone surnamed Zhù. Nor was she a member of the Feng family anymore. She also could not take the surname Wang after Nanny Wang. In the rush of the moment, a surname sprang from her lips: “Zhu.” [Note: Hua Jie says 朱 (Zhū), different from Zhù Ying’s 祝 (Zhù)]

As for her given name — the clerk was not in a hurry to have her think of one. For a woman, a formal given name might or might not exist. A designation based on birth order would suffice. Hua Jie did not know her birth order, but since she was establishing her own separate household, she was written down as “Da Niang” — First Lady.

And so, from that day forward, her household register listed her as Zhū Da Niang.

One other thing that caused the clerk to look at her twice was that Hua Jie had no permanent property to speak of, and therefore no fixed address to list. But this was nothing unusual — there were any number of poor people in this situation. Hua Jie was registered as an orphan from the foundling home, and since the Capital Prefect himself had given the word to register her, it was registered.

Hua Jie solemnly collected her page of paper. Zhù Ying slipped a little money to the clerk and the others. The clerk said, “You really shouldn’t do this.” Zhù Ying said, “Then can’t you just take it as good-luck money?” The clerk smiled and pocketed it, then said to Zhù Ying, “What’s the official holding there?” Zhù Ying was carrying an urn of ashes, wrapped up in a cloth so as not to alarm anyone.

She smiled: “Can you guess?”

The clerk laughed: “I won’t even try.”

The two exchanged a few more words, and then Zhù Ying said, “The curfew is coming — we need to go.”

The clerk exclaimed, “Goodness — it’s already this time! You’d better get going!”

Zhù Ying held the urn while Hua Jie tucked the household registration document into her clothes. The two of them left the Capital Prefecture. Hua Jie said, “Let me carry it for you — you’ve been holding it all this way.” Zhù Ying said, “No need. Once we’ve collected your things, we’ll go home.”

Hua Jie heard the words “go home,” and something stirred warmly in her heart. She said loudly, “Yes!” Then she had Zhù Ying take off the monk’s robe — she herself was still wearing a nun’s dark robe, and Zhù Ying was in the monk’s garb; this mismatched pairing was bound to draw attention. Zhù Ying said, “There’s no hurry. We can change once we’ve collected the luggage — let them look. After you get home, don’t mention to anyone that you ever lived as a monk. Don’t bring any of it up — just say I found you just now.”

She always liked to keep a reserve contingency: this way, many people would be able to attest that she, dressed as a monk, had caught hold of a nun — which would solidify Hua Jie’s prior identity as a nun.

The two collected the luggage, and Zhù Ying handed the urn over to Hua Jie, taking the baggage on herself. As they emerged from the lane entrance, they happened to run into a neighbor coming out to throw away vegetable-washing water. She looked at them and gave a start: “What’s this? Is another person moving in? Little monk, are you performing what rites?”

Zhù Ying said, “Not yet — just coming to have a look first.”

The neighbor called out, “Little monk, do be careful! The ghost here is a fierce one! It’s only calmed down recently. I’m afraid that once someone moves in, it’ll start up again. Amitabha!”

Zhù Ying said, “Many thanks for the warning.” The two of them hurried as fast as they could, and just barely made it through the lane gate before it was shut, then stopped and caught their breath. Both of them were panting. They looked at each other and smiled. Zhù Ying said, “There — we can walk slowly now.”

Hua Jie had been to Zhù Ying’s current house before, so she needed no directions. She was tired from running, and walked slowly, looking around, and said, “This area is very nice — it’s a little like the place we used to live.”

Among the capital’s many grand mansions, this was altogether different from a small county town. Only in certain lanes could one catch a faint resemblance to a small county town. The courtyard Yu Miaomiao had occupied in the county town looked a little like this, except the county one had been larger.

Zhù Ying said, “A little.”

There were still people in the lane at this hour — no one was rushing home just yet. The pairing of one monk and one nun was rather unusual, and someone came forward to ask, “Little monks — where are you from?”

Zhù Ying took off her wide-brimmed hat: “Good lady, it’s me. I went out to find my elder sister. Found her at last.”

“Oh! Little Official Zhù! This is…”

Zhù Ying said, “I came to the capital on official assignment from outside, didn’t I? My elder sister and I got separated on the way, and I finally found her now.”

Everyone offered their congratulations. Zhù Ying said, “We need to hurry home so our parents can hear the good news.” The neighbors urged the two along, and some curious onlookers and idle lane wardens joined the procession trailing behind them. Helpful souls said, “You’re carrying such heavy luggage — let us help.”

All the baggage except for the urn was eagerly snatched up by the neighbors and carried to the Zhù household.

Zhang Xiangu and Zhù the Senior had been fretting since the time of the afternoon shift change, straight through until the curfew sounded. Zhang Xiangu was standing at the lane entrance watching out, and when she saw a crowd coming, she jumped in alarm: “What happened? What happened?”

The neighbors said various things: “Congratulations!” “How come we never knew you had another daughter?” “Nanny Zhù — take a look and see who’s here!” “Da Niang Zhù, now you’ve got a daughter and a son — a full family!”

Zhang Xiangu couldn’t make sense of any of it at first. Then she saw her daughter dressed in some strange monk’s costume and cried in alarm, “Why are you dressed in this ridiculous getup?!”

Hua Jie stepped forward, holding the urn, and made a bow: “Godmother.”

Zhang Xiangu looked at the nun and said, “And who might you be?”

Zhù Ying pulled off Hua Jie’s wide-brimmed hat. Zhang Xiangu first saw the shaved head, then stood there dumbfounded for another moment, and then, when she saw Hua Jie’s face, let out a sharp shriek: “Merciful heavens! Where’s your hair?! Oh! Come in, come in, quickly! We’ve finally found you!”

The neighbors all laughed and said, “Look at how overjoyed she is.” They helped carry the luggage in. Zhù the Senior was at the door listening to the commotion and said, “What’s this? What’s this? You really found her?!” The neighbors said, “What do you mean, Old Master?” Zhù the Senior covered up: “I just didn’t expect to find her so quickly! Come inside, come inside — what kind of impression are we making standing at the door?”

Zhù Ying stood in the doorway and said, “Many thanks to everyone. In a couple of days I’ll treat the whole neighborhood to some wine. For tonight, please allow us to catch up among ourselves first. We’ve been apart too long, and my parents can barely speak straight.” Zhang Xiangu also said to several of the women she was close to, “Bring her back to meet everyone properly in a couple of days.”

…………

Once the family had shut the door and entered the courtyard, Zhang Xiangu took Hua Jie’s hands, looking her over and talking non-stop: “Oh, Hua Jie, Hua Jie! How did it come to this? Come — wash your face first, and let’s have something to eat! I bought fish just this morning! Hmm! Can you eat it now?”

Zhù Ying said, “Elder Sister has returned to secular life.”

Zhang Xiangu was thrilled: “Wonderful! Oh — but clothes — there are none of yours here — can you borrow mine for the moment? Just made, brand new, I haven’t worn them yet, saved them for the Dragon Boat Festival — in a couple of days we’ll make new ones. And your hair — let me find a head covering for you…”

Zhù the Senior said, “Can you let her rest for a moment? You’ve got all the time in the world to say whatever you need to say. Third one — set your things down; that outfit you’re in is not quite right either!”

Zhù Ying said, “Then we’ll go change.”

She pulled Hua Jie toward her own room. Meanwhile Zhang Xiangu rushed off and rummaged out her own clothes. Her build and Hua Jie’s were not the same: in recent months, Zhang Xiangu had eaten well, and her age was catching up with her — she had put on a little weight. Hua Jie was slightly taller. But since clothes were made with extra fabric folded in, the differences balanced out, and Hua Jie wearing Zhang Xiangu’s clothes fit tolerably well.

Hua Jie demurred a little: “These aren’t everyday clothes. I don’t need to wear such fine things at home. Just give me whatever you wear day to day, Godmother.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Well! If I had any everyday clothes that fit you, would I be sewing new ones? I got too fat and had to throw out the old ones.”

Zhù Ying said, “Just wear them for now. Tomorrow I’ll have a tailor make new ones for both of you. Let’s hurry — there’s something important to do.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “I’ll go heat water and make food.” She ran off to get to work, then realized the dinner she had prepared wasn’t enough and went to buy some freshly made flatbread from the lane.

Inside the room, Zhù Ying set the urn down on the writing table. Hua Jie said, “I still haven’t formally paid my respects to Foster Father.”

Zhù Ying said, “Change your clothes first.” Hua Jie did not change, but said, “Godmother’s clothes — I won’t wear them. Give me a couple of your old everyday robes to wear for a few days. Don’t persuade me otherwise. I know you’re both warm-hearted and don’t treat me as an outsider — but if we’re going to live together going forward, we can’t do things this way.”

Zhù Ying found one of her own cloth robes and gave it to Hua Jie to change out of the dark robe, and the shoes too had no new pair — Hua Jie said, “That’s fine, I can make my own. Now that I’ve returned to secular life, I’ll need to let my hair grow. I’ll keep busy with needlework at home while it grows out. It’s only a pity I won’t be able to go to the medicine shop anymore…”

Zhù Ying said, “Let’s get settled in first. None of that is urgent — there will always be a way.”

The two emerged to find that the flatbread had arrived, dinner was laid out in the main house hall, and Zhù the Senior had collected himself. He cleared his throat and said, “Come — we’ll pay respects first before eating.”

Hua Jie looked uncertain. Zhang Xiangu said, “That’s right — it’s proper.” She pushed Hua Jie into the west room, set down a lamp, and Hua Jie saw many memorial tablets. By the lamplight she could dimly read the names on them, and her eyes reddened at once. She turned around to say something, but Zhang Xiangu had already set the lamp on the offering table and said, “Come.”

Zhù Ying went and brought the urn over, placing it beside Yu Miaomiao’s tablet, and said, “This too deserves a stick of incense. Tomorrow I’ll take it to the Temple of Gratitude, pay a donation, and ask them to inter it properly. Then we’ll set up a tablet when I get back.”

Hua Jie saw that the tablet beside it was relatively new but had the faint traces of smoke from incense that had been offered over time — clearly it had not been newly enshrined. She bowed formally. Zhù Ying moved the urn back to her own room, and Zhang Xiangu asked, “What are you carrying?” Zhù Ying said, “Something good. Don’t ask — wash your hands and come eat.”

Hua Jie then made a formal bow to Zhù the Senior and addressed him: “Foster Father.”

Zhù the Senior smoothed his whiskers, accepted this bow with satisfaction, and said, “Let’s eat. After dinner, we’ll figure out where to put you.”

Zhù Ying said, “Elder Sister has already registered her own household. I’m planning that when a rest day comes, I’ll have some witnesses over at home — letting everyone know that Elder Sister has returned. Father and Mother will acknowledge her as their foster daughter, so she’ll have a family.”

Zhù the Senior had just sat down and picked up his chopsticks when he heard this, set them back down again, and said, “What? She didn’t register under our family?”

Zhang Xiangu said, “That’s fine too! Since the third one has done it this way, she has her reasons.”

Zhù Ying said, “I have a plan.”

Zhù the Senior tried to ask more, but received a firm stomp from Zhang Xiangu under the table and fell silent. That night after dinner, Hua Jie naturally shared a room with Zhù Ying. Hua Jie first put away her things. She had not brought a bedroll. Zhù Ying said, “No matter — use mine. I have plenty of bedding.”

There were still plans to be made for new bedding, clothes, a new bed, and all the rest. Hua Jie said, “That will be a great expense.” She sat down with a lamp at the writing table and began writing out figures, calculating the costs and what needed to be purchased. Zhù Ying said, “All this is necessary. I also plan to partition these three side rooms with wooden boards — south room for me, north room for you. If the neighbors come to visit and see us both sleeping in one room, there’s no telling what rumors they might spread. That won’t do.”

Hua Jie said, “I don’t mind.”

Zhù Ying said, “It won’t do. If you’re going to live life, you have to live it properly. I also plan to invite some colleagues, the lane warden, and others — as well as Brother Jin and his crew — to come share a meal together. Get it all properly established. Then you can settle in here and grow your hair out in peace. And your wish to learn medicine — we’ll have time to discuss how to go about it.”

Hua Jie said, “Good.”

After everything they had been through in the past few days, the two of them fell asleep quickly, sleeping side by side. Zhù Ying fell asleep first. Hua Jie could not sleep. Besides writing out figures for bedding and clothing expenses, she was also going over in her mind what remaining funds she had, calculating how much to give Zhang Xiangu for room and board. She could not eat and sleep here for nothing. She was also thinking about how much housework she could help Zhang Xiangu with, and so on.

The next morning, the whole family rose very early. Zhù Ying gave Zhù the Senior a handful of coins and sent him to buy more breakfast items. Zhang Xiangu noticed that Zhù Ying looked especially well that morning and said, “My! You look even prettier today! You’re happy because Hua Jie has come back, aren’t you?”

Zhù Ying laughed: “That’s right!”

That was because Hua Jie, up early and having no grooming of her own to attend to, had helped Zhù Ying with her hair and general appearance. The details were more refined than when Zhù Ying or Zhang Xiangu did it themselves — even the folds in the clothing and the arrangement of the sash were better than usual. After getting up, Zhù Ying normally didn’t bother with the bedding, but Hua Jie had already folded it neatly.

Zhù the Senior came back with breakfast. Hua Jie noticed Zhang Xiangu was separately preparing some food as well and asked, “Does the Court of Judicial Review not provide communal meals?” Zhù the Senior said, “A half-grown child eats its parents into poverty.” Zhang Xiangu said, “She earns money and supports the household — would you see her go hungry? She’s still growing, gets hungry easily. Let her have an extra meal.”

Hua Jie noted this.

Zhù Ying was in good spirits. She went out the door holding the urn and carrying meat flatbread, first to the Temple of Gratitude to leave the urn in the temple’s care with a donation, then on to the Court of Judicial Review to report for duty.

……

The main topic of discussion at the Court of Judicial Review that day was the closing of the Gong case — there would be a round of trials and a final round of asset seizures. Almost no one was bringing up the sordid loyal-retainer business from the Capital Prefecture gate.

Evaluator Bao said softly, “With the case being closed this time, can we record another merit and get promoted?”

Hu Lian said, “You’ve already had one merit noted and one promotion. Don’t push your luck. Better to behave yourselves and make sure the final round of asset seizures goes without error. Little Zhù — you should be careful. The short-term laborers and bond-servants being released all need to be properly accounted for. We don’t want another ostentatious ‘loyal retainer’ business emerging. If someone looks back over your old accounts later, that would not be good.”

Zhù Ying said, “Don’t worry. What would I bother watching the servants for? You always look to the convicted official’s family members and key persons of interest first, and everything else afterward.”

Everyone felt rather wistful about the prospect of promotions, but an asset seizure meant a share of money, and that was welcome enough. Someone began to raise the prospect of celebrating over wine, stopping short of saying outright they were about to come into some money and saying instead: “Once this case is closed, we can all relax a bit. What do you say — shall we all go out for wine somewhere?”

Zhù Ying jumped in ahead of everyone: “Funny you should mention it — I happen to have a happy occasion at home and would like to invite everyone to serve as witnesses.”

Everyone asked what the occasion was. Zhù Ying said, “I came from outside the capital, and I have a distant elder sister who came to the capital with me. Unfortunately we got separated. I finally found her yesterday!”

Everyone offered their congratulations. Zhù Ying said, “She lost both her parents, and originally had a husband and a mother-in-law — unfortunately they have also both passed away. She was worried about being mistreated back in her hometown, so she came up to the capital. Unfortunately we got separated on the way. My parents were frightened to pieces and said: we might as well take her in as a foster daughter — we can’t let anything happen to her again.”

Everyone said it was a fine thing to do, and this gathering was certainly not to be missed.

Zhù Ying also said, “There is one thing — when you meet her, please don’t tease her for it. After coming to the capital, she shaved her head as a nun to avoid trouble. She has only just returned to secular life.”

The chief document officer said “Oh!” and remarked, “No wonder I kept hearing you were always running over to nunneries! So that was the reason! Why didn’t you say something sooner? We could have helped you look — we know the capital far better than you do!”

Zhù Ying smiled: “We were all busy at the time. Now that the big case is nearly closed, how about we get together?”

Palace Censor Wang said, “We’ll need to pick a lucky date.”

Zhù Ying said, “Once the date is set, I’ll invite you all. It’ll be at my house — we’ll set up a tent and order food and wine from outside. Which restaurant do you all prefer?”

Everyone chimed in enthusiastically with suggestions, and it was very lively, right up until Zheng Xi and the others returned.

Zheng Xi had worked through the night to put together the closing statement for the Gong case and reported it at court that morning. The Emperor issued an imperial edict, which was processed through the Secretariat of State and the rest of the relevant departments, and was formally proclaimed to all under heaven. The document was still at the Secretariat, and when Zheng Xi returned, he had the Court of Judicial Review prepare: “See it through from beginning to end.”

Before long, the Secretariat had completed its seals and returned the document to the Court of Judicial Review, which was to coordinate with the Imperial Guards and others to carry out the final enforcement.

Gong Jie and his wife were sentenced to death. The other co-conspirators received sentences ranging from death to exile to dismissal from office, and some had their assets confiscated or paid fines. Gong Jie was ultimately convicted on ten major crimes and fifty-six minor ones, and the list of charges was impressively extensive. Following custom, the execution of Gong Jie’s death sentence was carried out as a “self-administered death.”

The location was set inside the Court of Judicial Review’s prison. The Court of Judicial Review, the Ministry of Justice, and the Censorate were all to be present to oversee the execution. The Emperor had specifically ordered all civil and military officials to stand outside the Court of Judicial Review’s prison, waiting as the two carried out their own deaths inside. The bodies were examined, then carried out. The officials stood in two long rows, and several prison wardens bore the two bodies on stretchers, passing slowly between them, carrying them out. They were placed in two plain, thin-boarded coffins and buried, no one knew where.

After that came the customary rounds of asset confiscation, penalties, and handling of the remaining co-conspirators.

Zhù Ying was occupied for several more days before finishing all the work assigned to her. This round of asset seizures still was not her job to manage the accounts for — her accounting was still not refined enough for that level of detail. Still, she had gathered quite a respectable sum in incidental earnings. Running a rough calculation, after providing for the household, renovating the room partition, buying clothes and furnishings, and covering the gathering expenses, there would still be a private reserve left over.

She had cultivated the habit of keeping a private reserve since childhood, and firmly set aside a separate sum for herself. She also thought: she should acquire a small property in her own name, and also acquire some property in Hua Jie’s name.

She first went to Jin Liang and other acquaintances she knew well, told them about the plan to acknowledge a sister and host a gathering. Jin Liang and Nanny Jin were both pleased and a little worried. Nanny Jin said, “Sanlang, we know you’re a person who thinks things through, but this sister — we’ve never heard of her! Is this a situation where someone has taken advantage of you?”

Jin Liang had thought it through: “Ah — it’s her! But her background… No, that’s fine. And she certainly can’t be your wife any longer — acknowledging her as a sister is a way of looking after her.”

Zhù Ying said seriously, “She is a very good person. When she was above me, I said so, and now that she has fallen on hard times, I still say so. I haven’t for a moment entertained the idea of putting in ten years and then marrying some daughter of a distinguished house!”

Jin Liang said, “Fair enough! As long as you’ve made up your mind.” He went back and explained Hua Jie’s background to Nanny Jin. Nanny Jin thought it over and said, “Given her background and all she’s been through, insisting on calling them a couple through shared hardship would be somewhat inappropriate. That he can look after her like this already shows good conscience.”

Jin Liang was displeased to hear his wife speak this way about his sworn brother and said, “They were a halfway-married couple to begin with! I’ve told you — she was originally a widow, about to be consumed by the clan. Sanlang helped her out of that situation. How do you know she wasn’t still thinking of her original husband and didn’t want any part of Sanlang?”

Nanny Jin thought about it and nodded: “That’s also possible. In a couple of days I’ll go over first and have a look. Nanny Zhù is a warm-hearted person — we can’t let her be taken advantage of.”

Zhù Ying also went and found a carpenter and had the side rooms partitioned with wooden boards. Both sides had their own doors with locks. A new bed, a wardrobe, a dressing table, and a basin stand were made. The two rooms were filled out quite nicely. Zhù the Senior complained quietly to Zhang Xiangu, “This is a rented house — why go to all this trouble?” Zhang Xiangu said, “When we find a new place to rent, everything gets taken apart and brought along. If we can’t find something better, we’ll stay here anyway. What are you afraid of?” That satisfied Zhù the Senior.

Zhang Xiangu then went to discuss with Zhù Ying: “Nanny Wang’s tablet — you need to write that.” She also asked Hua Jie, “What was that Nanny Wang’s name?”

Hua Jie said, “She mentioned it once — her maiden family name was Xia.”

Zhù Ying brought out a blank tablet to write on, and Zhang Xiangu said, “Good thing I bought plenty last year! Hua Jie, come have a look — is the writing acceptable? Hua Jie?”

Hua Jie looked at this mother and daughter, and especially at Zhù Ying, and asked, “Sanlang — Nanny Wang — no! Am I truly someone the foundling home picked up? Godmother?”

She had not been dwelling on this herself — what Zhù Ying told her she had not questioned. But the street-level rumor was considerably more colorful: there were even women saying that for Nanny Wang to go to such lengths for a child she had merely taken in to fool her husband, it hardly seemed warranted — quite possibly it was her own flesh and blood, though there was no proof. Hua Jie had begun to harbor doubts. But out of a reluctance to cause trouble for Zhù Ying, she had buried it.

Setting up a memorial tablet for one’s benefactor was appropriate. Enshrining her beside Yu Miaomiao and specifically preserving the ashes were, however, slightly more than strictly warranted. Knowing Zhù Ying as she did, this young woman was not without a kind heart, but all her consideration was reserved for “her own people” — and Nanny Wang was still a step short of being one of “her own people.” Unless…

Zhù Ying said, “Don’t ask her — she doesn’t know either. I’m not certain myself. There is no proof. Even if she is not blood-related, she was like a second mother to you — paying respects to her is not unreasonable.”

Hua Jie looked carefully at Zhù Ying and said, “Sanlang, I’m not clever, but I do know something of human nature and the ways of the world.”

Zhù Ying said, “I’m curious too. But the person who knew the truth is already dead. I would never tell Nanny Wang that you had already been found. Naturally, she would not tell me whether you were truly her birth child. I was trying to protect the secret of your whereabouts; she was trying to ensure I would keep looking for you. We never were fully candid with each other.”

Hua Jie said quietly, “Yes — and whether born of me or taken in — what does it matter in the end? Raising a child and giving birth to one — the difference isn’t so great. The grace of raising outweighs the grace of bearing.”

And so the tablet of Madam Xia was also enshrined.

……

The carpentry work was completed rather quickly. On the day it was finished, it happened to be the Dragon Boat Festival. Zhù Ying had no cousin of a colleague getting into trouble this year, her position had been elevated, and her Dragon Boat Festival gift stipend had gone up a little as well. The family gathered together to boil rice dumplings and eat.

Zhang Xiangu no longer tried to press her bright, festive clothes on Hua Jie. Hua Jie had simple clothes tailored in plain colors, made her own shoes, and kept her head wrapped in a cloth. When neighbors asked, she would say she had been widowed and it was not appropriate to wear bright colors. The neighbors all shook their heads in sympathy: “Such a fine young woman.” Unspoken in their hearts was another thought — remarriage wasn’t out of the question, but she looks to have made up her mind to keep her widowhood through the best years of her life.

After the rice dumplings were eaten, Zhù Ying began organizing the gathering. The courtyard was set up with four or five tables of wine and food, with colleagues, friends, the lane warden, and their families, as well as neighboring households and friends of Zhang Xiangu all invited. Two tables were set outside with sweets and such, for the neighborhood children to help themselves freely, and everyone was told: Little Official Zhù of the Zhù household has a widowed elder sister who has come.

The women who came saw that Hua Jie was gentle and cultured, measured and proper in her interactions, and had reportedly done her own needlework — and all said, “Nanny Zhù, you now have a fine daughter!”

Nanny Jin, upon seeing Hua Jie, thought to herself: What a pity — if not for that tangled history and background of hers, she would have been the perfect capable wife and helpmate for Sanlang. She warmed to Hua Jie all the same. Zhang Xiangu, seeing that Nanny Jin also liked Hua Jie, said with delight, “Sister, look after our Hua Jie in the days ahead! She’s such a good person! Hua Jie, Nanny Jin is enthusiastic and thoughtful about everything.”

The colleagues Zhù Ying had invited — some had brought their families — all encouraged Zhang Xiangu: “Your family’s Sanlang is so capable — aren’t you going to buy a new house?” Everyone had come into some money during the Gong case, and Zhù Ying in particular was said to have done especially well out of it — buying a proper house was no great leap. They all urged her.

Zhang Xiangu said with some difficulty, “I still need to discuss it with her. Let’s rent a better place to live for now — as for the rest, we’ll see. A good house we can afford to rent now, but we can’t yet afford to buy.”

The women talked all over each other — recommending options, suggesting they move somewhere larger, and saying they should also buy a couple of household attendants; otherwise the home simply didn’t look appropriate for an official with such a promising future.

Outside, everyone was careful not to press wine on Zhù Ying. They kept toasting Zhù the Senior instead, and before long he was thoroughly drunk. Jin Liang and Gan Ze helped Zhù Ying get him inside and settled, then came back to continue drinking. After the wine was finished, Zhù Ying prepared an assortment of pastries, sweets, and other items to send guests home with, and so Hua Jie’s identity was firmly established among everyone present.

Among these guests, only those who had come up to the capital with them, like Jin Liang, actually knew Hua Jie’s background. All the others simply understood her as a “widowed elder sister devoted to her chastity,” noted her existence in their minds, and harbored no doubts.

After the guests were seen off, Zhù Ying hired a cart, personally loaded up a large gift box and filled it with the finest pastries and the like, and had a large box of loose, mixed-quality pastries as well — the expensive box for Zheng Xi, and the loose ones, which were still quite good, for the servants to enjoy. She went to Lord Zheng’s residence to deliver the gift.

While she was busy with this, back at home, Hua Jie urged her, “Don’t be so conspicuous — if those people over there find out, it won’t look good either. Your career prospects are excellent, but Lord Shen is also a high-ranking official. It is easy to ruin someone but hard to build them up, and if he becomes angry and deliberately sets himself against you, it will only hurt your career. I’m not suffering — what we have is enough.”

Zhù Ying said, “Him? Let him sort out his own household first. Oh — let’s buy some farmland.”

Hua Jie said, “Buy it if you want.”

Zhù Ying said, “I mean let’s both buy some — I have a bit of money now, and I’ll have some purchased in your name as well, and some in mine, as a safeguard against unforeseen circumstances.”

“Unforeseen circumstances?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll manage it for you.” Hua Jie accepted the proposal without further resistance, though she insisted firmly that she was managing it on Zhù Ying’s behalf. This was something many officials commonly did — it was standard practice for commerce. Hua Jie was even more conversant in these arrangements than Nanny Jin, and she wrote Zhù Ying a promissory note with her own handprint before agreeing to proceed with the land purchase. She also taught Zhù Ying some of the methods used by official households, which were somewhat more sophisticated than Nanny Jin’s approach.

Zhù Ying listened and took it in. Truth be told, during the asset seizures, she had seen practices far more inventive than these — it all came down to how rigorously the authorities were pressing. Gong Jie’s household, for instance, had three stewards, each of whom owned considerable farmland, which she had duly confiscated. Then there were things like using pawnbroker receipts to hide assets from seizure — those too she had confiscated in full.

But their own household was slender in means, and a few dozen acres of thin farmland was small enough that the confiscating officials would consider it beneath their notice. She pocketed the promissory note.

Hua Jie said, “How do you plan to buy?”

“We have Old Wang — don’t we!”

Zhù Ying told Hua Jie about Palace Censor Wang’s situation and said, “He’s about to retire. I advised him to put away some land for his sons and grandsons. We can follow along and buy where he’s buying.”

Hua Jie said, “That works.” She also noted that for a senior colleague about to retire, it would be good to prepare a gift — neither too lavish nor too plain — to see him off properly.

Zhù Ying took out the money and asked her to handle the arrangements.

……

Once the confiscated assets from the Gong case were submitted and the Court of Judicial Review’s share had been distributed, Zheng Xi put in another word for Palace Censor Wang, raising his honorary rank just enough to qualify for a retirement stipend. Palace Censor Wang was also tactful enough to settle all his affairs in good order and then submit a memorial requesting retirement.

He had to wait another half month before the memorial was approved. Palace Censor Wang at last breathed a sigh of relief, and in great good cheer, began making his rounds to bid farewell to superiors and colleagues.

Zheng Xi and the others said only the usual pleasantries — you’ve worked hard, go home and enjoy your retirement years, long life to you, and so on. The colleagues were far more straightforward: “Congratulations!”

Palace Censor Wang was moved to tears: “When I first came to the Court of Judicial Review, I never imagined I would see this day! What was I then? A Junior Evaluator at Grade Eight! All thanks to Lord Zheng’s patronage — that’s how I’ve gotten where I am today!”

He also invited everyone to come to his home for wine, and everyone agreed.

Zhù Ying had already made contact with Palace Censor Wang before anyone else. She brought the gift Hua Jie had prepared and paid him a visit. Palace Censor Wang had just finished dressing down his wife — who had complained about why he didn’t keep on working since his career prospects were still rising — and restored order to the household.

He accepted the gift, too put out to ask anyone else to join them, and spoke with Zhù Ying alone. Zhù Ying had come about the land purchase. The old and the young put their heads together for a while: Palace Censor Wang had two sons to provide for, and he needed to set aside a retirement fund, and also give his wife a little security money of her own.

“If not for this lucky windfall from the Gong case, it truly wouldn’t have been enough!” Palace Censor Wang lamented.

He was willing to discuss the land purchase together with Zhù Ying because he felt her prospects were not poor, and she was unlikely to covet his modest estate. He also wanted someone he trusted to serve as a witness so that his two sons would not quarrel over the inheritance after his death and ruin the family. Zhù Ying assured him, “As long as I’m here.”

Palace Censor Wang showed Zhù Ying the land deeds he had purchased, and also wrote out a document specifying how his estate was to be divided, stamped it with his seal, pressed his handprint, and gave it to Zhù Ying to keep. He entrusted her with it at length, and gave her his newly acquired sash as a gift.

Zhù Ying left Wang’s household and went back to discuss with Hua Jie. Hua Jie said, “Since he trusts you and has also given a gift, just keep it. Tomorrow I’ll go with Godmother to ask the broker he used. That broker, wanting to make a good impression, will certainly have plenty of options ready. We’ll look at what he didn’t buy.”

Hua Jie had a nose for these matters. When buying a house or land, what remained on the market was not necessarily inferior — it could even be better than what had been purchased. For instance, Palace Censor Wang was looking at two plots. If one was too large, he simply wouldn’t buy it. Likewise, if one was a good option but he didn’t have enough money, he would have had to pass on it.

Zhù Ying turned all of this over to Hua Jie to manage, and thought to herself: once the land is acquired and all of that is sorted out, it would be good to arrange a small farmhouse outside the city as well. That way they would both have a retreat if needed, and could focus on their respective work with peace of mind. As for Hua Jie learning medicine — that should continue.

The medicine shop would not take a female apprentice, so she would have to look into nunneries with a good reputation in medicine and willing to share their knowledge. Having someone help on the side while learning was perfectly natural — now that Hua Jie’s identity was fully above-board, it would attract no attention.

She went home and told Hua Jie. Hua Jie said with exasperated amusement, “The autumn harvest is almost here! What has medicine to do with that? Did you forget? We have land now! Collecting rent doesn’t mean it just lands in your hands when the time comes!”

She then taught Zhù Ying how to collect rent, and how to assess the quality of a harvest. Hua Jie said, “Tenants want to hold onto more, and landowners want to collect more. How to find the middle ground is a profound subject in its own right. If you only ever act the generous benefactor, your own household will be ruined. But grinding people mercilessly harms your own moral standing.”

Zhù Ying thus received a lesson in how a rural landlord collects rent, and had no choice but to set aside the nunnery matter for the time being. She did, however, promptly donate lamp oil money to each of the two nunneries.

When the autumn harvest came, Hua Jie reported: “What we have collected is new grain. Because it is poor land, and this being the first year, the yield is somewhat low. Since they used none of our oxen, plowing tools, or seed, we take a smaller share of the rent — one and a half shi of grain per ten acres, and millet converted to rice at seventy percent. Next year we can collect a little more — about half again as much as this year.”

The effective rate was slightly above one-in-ten, with more to follow. Next year it would be roughly one-in-five. Compared to other landlords this was quite generous. Hua Jie said, “Sanlang holds an official position and pays no taxes. This is clear profit.”

Zhang Xiangu said happily, “In the old days, this would have been a tidy sum. Now, somehow, it doesn’t feel like quite so much.”

Zhù Ying said, “There will be more in the future.”

The grain they collected Zhù Ying kept at the familiar rice shop. The shop owner was shrewd and, seeing her career was going well, did not take advantage of the new grain season to offer a lower price, and accepted it at the usual rate.

When the autumn work was done, Zhù Ying urged Hua Jie to go to the nunnery to apprentice herself to study medicine. Hua Jie said, “We haven’t found the new house yet. And besides, we don’t know if they’ll take me, or how the master there will get along with me.”

Zhù Ying smiled, “What do you mean ‘get along with me’? I’ve been donating lamp oil money there for months. If they didn’t get along with me before, they certainly will now. And you’re very easy to like — there’s no reason it wouldn’t work.”

Hua Jie said, a little exasperated, “Nonsense! Come, let’s go look at houses.”

She had at last found Zhù Ying a suitable house, in the lane neighboring Jin Liang’s. Coming out of the lane gate and turning right, you were already at Jin Liang’s lane. It was a single courtyard with a gatehouse of three rooms — one on the left for the kitchen, one on the right for storage — along with a main building, left and right side rooms, and a well for washing. The lane also had a sweet-water well. No matter how hard they bargained, the price only came down to thirty-five taels and five hundred coins, and the owner refused to budge a single coin further.

All four members of the family went to see the house, and Zhù Ying was the first to be satisfied. Zhang Xiangu said, “It’s a bit more expensive, yes — but you get three extra rooms to put things in! This one here as the kitchen, and that one to store grain and rice, so we don’t always have to measure out small portions. Convenient!”

Zhù Ying would still have the west side room, and Hua Jie would have the east. The partition boards from the current house could be taken apart and brought over. Zhù Ying had been planning to do the work herself — she knew some carpentry — and the boards had already been planed. She wanted to partition her sleeping quarters from the outer room, and especially Hua Jie’s room needed to be properly separated.

Zhang Xiangu said, “For just that one thing, you could do it yourself. But now there’s also a bed, tables, chairs, and all the furnishings to be made — you’ll have to find a carpenter anyway. You might as well just have him do the one thing too.”

The furniture in the house was old and worn — they did not want to use it — and the agreement was that the broker would cart it away. Except for Hua Jie’s set of furniture, which was their own newly made pieces, the Zhù household’s three members had been using the furniture that came with the previous residence, which could not be moved. So new beds, wardrobes, and the rest all had to be made. Through an acquaintance, Zhù Ying engaged a skilled foreign craftsman carpenter along with two apprentices. In about a month and a half, not only were the new furnishings completed, but the craftsman had also taken the opportunity to repair the doors, windows, beams, and columns wherever they were cracked or improperly fitted. For labor and materials combined, Zhù Ying paid him twelve taels, and considered it very good value. Zhang Xiangu was pained for quite some time: “People really do say renting a house costs more than buying…”

And yet she was happy too, because this put them even closer to Nanny Jin’s household. At the end of the tenth month, Zhù the Senior asked Zhù Ying to consult the almanac and pick an auspicious day for the move. The furniture and baggage were moved first, and last came the family members themselves, carrying the memorial tablets in a large box inside the cart.

Hua Jie said, “It would not be quite proper to enshrine Mother’s and Dalang’s tablets in the main room. Let me keep them in my room.” She moved the tablets of Yu Miaomiao, her son, and Madam Xia into her own room, placing them on an offering table set against the wall opposite the bedroom. She offered fruit, lit incense, and prayed silently.

Zhang Xiangu did not argue with her over this. She set up her own offering table in the main room and lit a stick of incense: “We are a little closer to the Emperor’s house now! In another two years, we’ll buy something even better — buy, not rent! This New Year, I’ll offer you a pig’s head at your tablets! And you must protect Sanlang — keep her safe and sound!”

Zhù Ying once again had three rooms entirely to herself. She did not burn incense or make offerings, but first tidied her things away, taking in the layout of this southern sleeping room, the middle living room, and the northern study. She made up her bed, lay down, and thought: Now Hua Jie can go find a master to study under.

……

At the beginning of the eleventh month, Zhù Ying took Hua Jie to visit the two nunneries. Hua Jie’s heart was drawn toward a nunnery called Ci Hui. Zhù Ying brought her inside and greeted the abbess. The abbess smiled and said, “Little Official Zhù, you’re back again!”

Hua Jie thought to herself: Wherever she goes, Sanlang always manages to get on with people. When she doesn’t, it’s surely the other person who’s in the wrong.

Zhù Ying introduced Hua Jie to the abbess and said, “This is my elder sister. She is a widow living at home. Hearing me speak of how the venerable abbess dispenses medicine and gives freely to those in need, she was moved by your compassion and wished to study and cultivate herself under your guidance.”

Hua Jie stepped forward and made her bow. The abbess saw she was fair-complexioned, neat in appearance, and measured in manner. Combined with the two or three months Zhù Ying had spent making offerings of lamp oil money beforehand, the abbess said, “Amitabha! As long as you are not too particular.”

Hua Jie quickly said she wouldn’t dream of it, mentioning that she had already learned to identify some medicinal herbs. The abbess took her to test her knowledge, and found she could identify six or seven out of ten — and remarked to Zhù Ying, “Your elder sister is quite exceptional, little official.” Women who could read were already rare, and having one who could also recognize medicinal herbs and understand something of medicine was even rarer. Moreover, Hua Jie could read, and many of those who came to the nunnery for medicine were women — so she was a very good fit.

Zhù Ying then presented the abbess with a gift of respect — five bolts of blue cloth — and on days when there was nothing to do in winter, Hua Jie came rain or shine to report to the nunnery. Winter was precisely the season when many people fell ill and suffered from hunger and cold. Hua Jie was just in time to add herself to the nunnery’s hands. Working alongside the local women who came to help, she found her days full and fulfilling.

Only Zhù Ying remained as she had been — reading books. The abacus practice had now been set aside temporarily, and she was learning accounting from the accounts manager. She would occasionally run errands. She thought: once I’ve got the accounts down well enough, they’ll surely give me proper assignments again. They must be planning to have me audit someone’s accounts. Otherwise why would they have me spend so long on this?

But Zheng Xi seemed to have forgotten she had a role to fill. New Year came, and she was still in the same situation. After the new year, it continued as before.

Another year passed. Zhù Ying now felt she could look at an account without being completely at a loss. Zheng Xi still gave her nothing new. She was nearly beginning to suspect that a Judicial Review Court Censor’s position involved collecting a salary, running a few errands every three or five days, and spending the rest of the time reading.

When this year too had passed the new year celebrations, Zhù Ying let out a sigh: “It’s a new year. I’m eighteen now!” If anything was the same as before, it was that for the past two years, she had still been assigned to remain on duty over the New Year’s Eve. Beyond that, she had nearly forgotten how busy her first year at the Court of Judicial Review had been. Now, during the day she was the Court of Judicial Review’s idle person; after work she was the capital’s idle person, wandering all over the city and having memorized every corner of the capital. If Zheng Xi sent her to catch a petty thief now, she guaranteed she’d be more at ease doing it than doing the accounts!

Hua Jie heard this and gave her a cloak: “Go over to Nanny Jin’s. Didn’t you say you wanted to borrow their courtyard to practice martial arts?”

Zhù Ying put on the cloak and muttered, “Right.”

She arrived at the Jin household. Jin Liang was there too. The two of them clasped their fists in salute. Zhù Ying said, “New year, same old story — the two of us are just the same.”

In these past two years, her official rank had also remained as it was — a Grade Six Judicial Review Court Censor from the lower tier, going nowhere. Jin Liang’s situation was more or less the same; there had been no new advancement in his post. She now understood why Palace Censor Wang and Chief Censor Left had developed that particular evasive smoothness in their manner. If this was to be the routine — a small official with no great matters to handle and no hope of advancement — it would be difficult to avoid becoming the same way.

Jin Liang’s spirits, however, were quite fine. He asked, “What’s this? Thinking of stirring up some trouble?”

Zhù Ying shook her head. “Not that. I used to think that if I could open a small tea shop, I’d sit in the sun every day and just count money. What I have now is better than a tea shop. Only I can never quite figure out what big thing Lord Zheng is waiting to throw at me.”

Jin Liang laughed heartily: “It won’t be anything like that — the old Marquis’s household is the most straightforward and decent.”

Zhù Ying thought it over. For the past two years when she had visited the Marquis’s residence, the people in the household had treated her much the same as before — no noticeable cooling. The old Marquis would occasionally have Tang Shan compete with her in archery. Tang Shan trained exclusively in this, while Zhù Ying had learned by watching on the side, so she always fell just a little short. The old Marquis seemed to enjoy watching this, and even when she lost he would give her a small prize.

Jin Liang said, “I even mentioned you to the old Marquis. His Lordship said, ‘Seventh Son has his own arrangements.’ So I dropped it.”

“You see? He must have a thunderbolt all charged up and ready to strike me with. Every time I went to the residence to ask for guidance, he never said a word — he must be saving one enormous one for me!”

Jin Liang laughed loudly: “Come then — let’s practice!”

Just as Zhù Ying was thinking she might be idle indefinitely, at the end of the third month of this year, Zhù Ying changed into a light summer robe and went out with Hua Jie, first accompanying Hua Jie on her way to Ci Hui Nunnery, and then heading on to the Court of Judicial Review to study her wretched rhyme books.

Because Zheng Xi had said that her reading for these past two years was more or less done, and it was time to learn how to compose essays and write poetry. He had her familiarize herself with the “rhyme tables” first, and at the same time borrow some introductory books on musical tones and rhythms from the Office of Imperial Rites, because whether writing parallel-style prose or poetry, one had to have a sense of meter and rhyme.

Her — a pauper, a spirit medium’s apprentice. Her most familiar exposure to meter and rhythm was the ghost-invoking chants her mother used when performing her shamanistic ceremonies. She could gamble, pick pockets, climb walls and trees. She had never had a single poetic or artistic inclination in her life!

And the books on musical tones and rhythms were unlike anything she had read before — they operated on a completely different set of principles. She had no choice but to swallow the material whole for now and slowly digest it later.

After studying a few more pages, Zheng Xi and the others came back. After two more pages, a man from the Imperial Guards suddenly came running in — it was the familiar figure of Lieutenant Li. He ran over to see Zheng Xi, and before long Zheng Xi had summoned people — a homicide case had occurred within the capital jurisdiction.

This should normally have fallen under the Capital Prefecture’s authority. But the person who had committed the offense was somewhat unusual — a member of the Imperial Guards, ranked at Grade Five. The Imperial Guards wanted to reclaim their man, but the Capital Prefecture refused to release him, saying: the victim was a resident of the capital and under Capital Prefecture jurisdiction, and unless the criminal was an inner-court eunuch or palace woman, committing a homicide still fell under their authority. The Capital Prefecture had more than enough officials and military personnel to deal with — if each one demanded their suspect back, what was the point of the Capital Prefecture existing?

However, this particular man from the Imperial Guards was special — his rank was somewhat elevated, at Grade Five. For a Grade Five official committing a crime, the Court of Judicial Review had jurisdiction. The Imperial Guards had therefore come to the Court of Judicial Review for help in seizing the person and the case.

Zheng Xi asked, “Who is the suspect?”

“Zhou You, General Zhou.”

Beside him, Leng Yun muttered under his breath, “Serves him right!” Strictly speaking, Leng Yun could also be considered a scion of a privileged family, though he considered himself to be a capable person rather than an idle young master — that was more like Zhou You.

Zheng Xi said, “Don’t say things like that! You go — no, actually, forget it.” He handed this matter over to Pei Qing. Leng Yun said, “Why not me?”

Zheng Xi said, “Can you hold your own against Wang Yunhe?” Leng Yun shrank back a bit and said, “I never wanted to deal with that worthless Zhou You anyway!”

Pei Qing said, “This subordinate will go at once. Only — I am uncertain how to approach this. I also don’t know how serious the case is.”

Zheng Xi said, “Go and assess first. Seize jurisdiction if you can; if not, insist on co-handling the case.”

Pei Qing said, “Understood.”

Zheng Xi said, “Wait — take more people with you.”

Beside him, Su Kuang stepped forward to request the assignment: “This subordinate is willing to go.”

Zheng Xi said, “No need for you. Zhù Ying!”

Zhù Ying had not expected to be called. She also had no desire to get involved with Zhou You. She knew that even if Zhou You truly had killed someone, he would not be sentenced to death — which made the whole thing pointless. But Zheng Xi had called her name, so she pointed a finger at her own nose: “Me?”

“How old are you this year?”

“E — eighteen.”

“You’ve grown up. Time to do some real work.”

“But I —”

“I’ve been keeping you fed for a thousand days to use you for one moment.”

So this is what these two years of idle maintenance have been for — sending me to compete with the Capital Prefecture for a homicide case? Competing with Wang Yunhe over a homicide case? And one that is clearly intended to shelter Zhou You at that?! Are you out of your mind?!

Zhù Ying swallowed her indignation: “Yes.”