Feng Furen had died — why was he telling her?

Zhù Ying looked at Chen Meng and said, “My condolences.”

Chen Meng hesitated and said, “Would it be convenient for a brief private word?”

Zhù Ying nodded.

Ever since Xia Shi had turned herself in and taken her own life, Zhù Ying reckoned she had no more necessary connection with the Feng, Shen, and Chen families. And indeed that was how things were — Shen Ying had barely been in contact at all, and Chen Meng, who had previously been fond of seeking her out for inexplicable reasons, had long stopped paying her any attention; accordingly, most of the “fellow townsmen” in the capital’s officialdom had grown distant from Zhù Ying. Zhù Ying knew why, and didn’t go out of her way to make amends. Feng Da’lang, who had always been something of a follower to Chen Meng, was rarely seen as well.

Today it was Chen Meng taking the initiative to speak to her, which made things interesting. From Chen Meng’s expression, Zhù Ying had already half-guessed what it was about.

Chen Meng, a man who could talk at length on many subjects, was now stumbling and hesitating: “Um, Sanlang, er — that — mmm, Guan Qun — ahem — Pearl… oh, would you… would you all like to come and burn some incense?”

Zhù Ying said, “Where does that idea come from? What you mean by that is — you want me to go and cause trouble for the bereaved family?”

Chen Meng had prepared many things to say, and even when he managed to start, the words still came out with difficulty — yet once he had begun, the rest came out more smoothly: “Alas, those words were only good for fooling Feng Da, that fool. That fool is the sort who has to believe those things to be able to carry on living.”

Zhù Ying frowned and was about to walk away. Chen Meng slipped around her to block the way and said, “Auntie’s life was full of hardship; while she was alive I also felt she was impossible to get close to. Now that she’s dead, I find myself feeling melancholy. I know she did wrong by you, but then I want to say — don’t leave regrets for the living. When she was alive, I hoped she didn’t exist in this world; and yet she had barely died before I already had regrets. Pearl… when I went looking for her later, Nine Niang said she had already gone. I thought—”

“Where is there any Pearl? Isn’t she just the girl from the Qiao family?”

Chen Meng said, “All right — call her the girl from the Qiao family. There was at least some connection; what she does from here depends on herself, doesn’t it?”

Zhù Ying said, “What is the point of you telling all this to me?”

Chen Meng said, “Everyone in the capital says you have a special ability to find things and people that others can’t — that you see what others can’t, and find what others can’t. So I want to ask you to find her.”

Zhù Ying said, “Young Master, you really are rather peculiar — always turning things over in your mind like this. Other people would rather these things had never happened at all, and everyone could just forget it all.”

Chen Meng shook his head. “You haven’t been through what I’ve been through; I don’t need you to understand. It’s just a foolish thought of mine. After all, these things — Pearl is the one you found and brought back. It was you who took care of it.”

Zhù Ying waved a hand. “I don’t have that many thoughts on it. Once I’m done with something, it’s done, and who keeps turning it over in their mind? It’s Young Master who is truly puzzling.”

Chen Meng gave a rueful smile: “Puzzling, you say? I can’t make sense of myself either. Sometimes I think — either let me be more clever, like those clever people, able to take things and let them go. Or let me be more foolish — like Feng Da, like Zhou You — not understanding anything at all would be best. Neither this nor that — it’s awful. Never mind; I’ve said it all the same, no more than this one mention. If you’re not willing to help, that’s perfectly fair. But I’ve sought you out; that’s already made me feel a little better. This is my last remaining tie to the Feng household — better to have it done with.”

You feel better, and you leave the mess with me? Zhù Ying rolled her eyes, stood at the street corner and was lost in thought for a moment. She stomped her foot, and made up her mind to go see Wang Yunhe again — she wanted to understand this “change the law” business. What did he mean? Could he change things so that killing actually meant paying with one’s life? Or what?

——

Wang Yunhe was very busy.

In the capital and its surroundings, so many matters pressed down on him. When he chose not to intervene, it was bullying by the powerful at every turn; when he chose to intervene, of course that meant working himself to exhaustion in every possible way. The Zhou You matter had been an additional burden thrust upon him; now that it was gone, he was back to managing the capital’s idle young lords. A single word put out, and the atmosphere of the capital did noticeably improve.

Then there was the city planning — he wanted to make some adjustments. The longer the capital had stood, the more it seemed to have developed a will of its own, beginning to grow all manner of branches and offshoots that hadn’t been part of the original design; Wang Yunhe was like a gardener with a great pair of shears, clipping here and there, trying to restore some tidiness to the shape.

By the time Zhù Ying left the Court of Judicial Review, the sky was not early. Wang Yunhe was still not free. The two offices had handled one case together, and Zhù Ying had shown some abilities; the people at the capital prefectural office who had previously been familiar and jovial with her were no longer quite that warm, yet they were no longer giving her cold looks or treating her as a traitor either — they were politely seeing her in and giving her tea. But in that politeness was a slight distance.

Zhù Ying waited patiently for Wang Yunhe to finish his business and receive her.

The pace of his steps still carried a trace of the urgency of hard work; when he saw her he smiled and said, “I thought you would still come.”

Zhù Ying gave a long bow: “Indeed I have a matter to ask about.”

“The Zhou You case?”

“Yes, and also no.”

“Oh, sit — take your time.”

Wang Yunhe was genuinely happy to guide juniors — provided the juniors were worth it. Zhù Ying was the kind that came to life with the slightest nudge, and had a somewhat “self-improving” quality to her; Wang Yunhe didn’t hold her lack of a jinshi degree against her, and still hoped she would become a “gentleman” in the classical sense. The fact that he had elevated her in the eyes of others was also because of this.

After the two sat down, Wang Yunhe said, “Is there something you don’t understand?”

Zhù Ying opened first with the eight categories of exemption and asked Wang Yunhe — and found that Wang Yunhe’s view was the same as Zheng Xi’s: these things could not be changed.

Zhù Ying said, “Why not? Someone like Zhou You — his misconduct is not a matter of one or two incidents; surely he cannot be left unpunished? Leaving him at large, who knows how many more people he will harm.”

“Zhou You is a knot in your heart.”

“I’m not bearing a personal grudge — Prefect Zheng says it’s just an itch and a rash. But what he considers an itch and a rash is enough to bring ruin upon an ordinary family. I genuinely cannot understand — a thing like that also merits protection?”

“This is not protecting Zhou You. It is protecting ritual order.”

“Oh?”

Wang Yunhe let out a sigh: “You are wasting yourself on the law of punishments! Come — let me explain. When you look at punishments, don’t think only of punishments; above punishments is ritual. Where ritual departs, punishment takes over. That is why you must read the Annals — reading only the criminal code will make you a petty clerical functionary; to read the classics is what produces great ability.”

“Magistrate — I’ve also been reading these past two years, and I believe I remember a fair amount of it. But by ritual, Zhou You is not a good man. By law, he has broken the law. Yet the law says he must be protected. I feel as though I’ve memorized an enormous amount, and used it all to adjudicate cases, and done so correctly. But the Zhou You case has made me feel as though I’d been going about it without engaging my mind.”

Wang Yunhe listened with a smile and said, “This is the distinction between punishment and ritual. It seems you have thought it through. Your confusion is something I once shared. It is for the sake of systems and order. The code also has its gaps and failings; these need to change, supplement, and reform. But the core principle cannot change. The core is: order must be maintained.”

Zhù Ying had always been a model student, the sort that any teacher would love; her manner and posture told a teacher: I’m listening; you’re saying it very well; please continue.

Wang Yunhe accordingly became more and more fluent; dishes were set out; the two ate through the meal together, and he was still not done. Zhù Ying had not had a teacher of this caliber patiently laying things out for her, and she didn’t feel tired or sleepy; the two fell into a rhythm of one speaking and one listening. Later, Zhù Ying’s questions multiplied, and Wang Yunhe answered them one by one.

Zhù Ying did her best to hold back the greater tangle of questions within her, and kept asking; from Wang Yunhe’s answers she worked to gauge his outlook. And it was because of Zhù Ying’s questions that Wang Yunhe gradually moved from broad principles into certain details. Several times, servants came to remind him; Wang Yunhe, still not ready to stop, each time said, “Tomorrow is a rest day — why the fuss?”

The two talked until the middle of the night, then dozed for a brief spell sitting up, opened their eyes not long after and continued. A quick face-wash, a few more mouthfuls of food; Wang Yunhe felt this was very much worthwhile! For very rarely, at this age, could a junior show such sharp observation.

Zhù Ying, having listened to his long discourse on ritual and punishment, arrived at this conclusion: “It’s like a tower — built up floor by floor, and held together with mortise and tenon throughout. Yet the whole intention is to keep everything in its proper tier and layer, is it not?”

Wang Yunhe said, “You understand! Orderly hierarchy is always best.”

On the matter of Zhou You’s lawbreaking, for instance, Zhù Ying said, “It’s said to be about those of higher rank and lower rank, but from what I see, this is very strange. The court protects the wealthy so fiercely, yet the court’s money and grain are accumulated coin by coin, grain by grain. Take a county, for instance: one great household with ten thousand coins — squeeze them dry and you get ten thousand. One thousand ordinary households each paying ten coins — that’s also ten thousand. Isn’t that right?”

“Precisely!” Wang Yunhe slapped the couch in admiration. “Young person! You came from humble origins, and you’ve never directly governed a people, yet you can see so clearly! That is why land concentration must be suppressed. Are you still studying accounting?”

“Yes. Although there are accountants, and the Court of Judicial Review has clerks who specialize in this, better to have than not — I ought to understand at least something of it myself.”

Wang Yunhe said, “Quite right! Know enough not to be drowning in it.”

He further spoke on land concentration, covering related problems of governance, including taxation, levies, labor conscription, policy, and officials at various levels. He was an official who had achieved notable things in the regions, someone who “loved the people as his children,” someone who suppressed the powerful. But for Zhù Ying, these things still were not enough. The oppression Zhù Ying had suffered from birth hadn’t come only from the powerful — she felt the whole world had something wrong with it, and she rarely had the chance to discuss this with anyone.

Though in these discussions she was largely asking questions, Wang Yunhe surpassed her so greatly in life experience and learning that many things he said seemed to make sense, yet also seemed somehow off.

She, a child from a spirit medium’s household, had never had much faith in gods and spirits — the whole system she’d grown up with was mainly “deception,” the other half being “guesswork,” and when things really “came true,” she chalked it up to coincidence. So she said, “To say one is mandated by heaven is far too vague. Reading history, one always feels that they acted first, then found a reason afterward, using the mandate of heaven as a cover.” This technique she knew inside out.

“The will of heaven is also the will of the people.”

“If the will of the people matters so much, why isn’t it cherished — why is the people’s life made so bitter?”

Wang Yunhe felt a rush of meeting a kindred spirit: “Exactly! One cannot let the people suffer; once the people’s suffering becomes unbearable, the sky changes!”

“Sky changes and sky changes — still the same bitter farming, and some can’t even get land to farm, stuck doing even harder work.”

“Each fulfilling their proper role is the great harmony. It’s like the earth — it bears the weight and in bearing the weight, it is essential.”

Zhù Ying said, “But then what wrong did Yanyan commit?”

Wang Yunhe said, “You found the real culprit, ensured the guilty were punished, and kept the innocent from being wronged. You did very well. Have compassion, but not the compassion of a woman with soft feelings. Don’t become lost in one or two particular incidents; excessive grief is bad for the constitution. There are far more wrongful cases in this world waiting for you to resolve!”

Oh — but I am a woman, Zhù Ying thought. Though that doesn’t stop me from solving cases.

It was a rest day in the evening; Wang Yunhe spoke at great length, giving his own examples from regional posts — of encouraging education, and of discouraging the drowning of female infants and the like. Zhù Ying said, “That is absolutely right. I have seen far too many useless men, and far too many brilliant women buried and wasted — such a pity! If they could all be let to live, to run their own households, to be in charge of their own lives — who knows what sort of world that might make?”

Wang Yunhe then had her carefully read these passages from the Book of Odes — “When a son is born, he is laid on a couch, wrapped in fine robes, given jade to play with; his cries ring out, for he will be a great lord one day. When a daughter is born, she is laid on the floor, wrapped in swaddling, given a loom shuttle to play with; she shall have neither fault nor virtue, and her only concern shall be food and wine, and not to cause grief to her parents.” And he said, “There are distinctions between man and woman, and between inner and outer. For a household to be run by a woman means the man is useless — a sign of family decline!”

Zhù Ying said, “Even if there are things a man cannot do that a woman can do, is that not better? A woman who is clearer-headed than a man can be an official. A man who is corrupt and bends the law — take Gong Jie — is that better? It would be more beneficial to hand things to a clear-headed woman.”

Wang Yunhe said sternly, “How many gentlemen are there in this world? It’s not as though Gong Jie is the only man! A hen crowing at dawn — that is no auspicious sign! It may be acceptable as an emergency measure, but it cannot become the norm. The relationships between sovereign and subject, father and son, husband and wife — the yielding and the firm, the upper and the lower — they cannot be reversed.”

“But isn’t it said that a wife is one who is equal to her husband?”

Wang Yunhe then lectured her on the ethics of husband and wife; in sum, “equal” was not wrong, but their responsibilities differed, and a wife’s honor and disgrace were bound to her husband’s. Wang Yunhe urged Zhù Ying again and again that if she ever encountered a situation like a woman ruling in the emperor’s place, she must not let her head run away with her — she must keep herself clear and levelheaded. If such a woman governs well, that is fine — but the fact of letting her govern is itself the problem. Everything must eventually return to the proper order.

On that rest day night, Wang Yunhe made a great circle of talk and returned to the Zhou You matter. In short: “Zhou You is not worth mourning, yet it is this ritual order I mourn.” There could be latitude elsewhere, but ritual order could not be violated.

But Zhù Ying thought of the Gao Yang Prince’s household matter and asked, “And His Majesty?”

Wang Yunhe smiled and let it pass: “If you can ask those three words, there’s no need for me to answer.”

Finally, Wang Yunhe said with earnest gravity, “The character of a gentleman is suppleness, not rigidity — otherwise the requirement of a chief minister would not be to ‘harmonize yin and yang.'”

Zhù Ying caught hold of one more point and asked, “What if the chief minister wishes to change all of this?”

Wang Yunhe said, “Dealing with one Zhou You is possible — changing everything? Then he cannot be a chief minister. He would be destroying order. Once heaven and earth fall out of alignment, it is absolutely not a blessing for the people. Therefore: if it does not bring hundredfold benefit, do not reform the law.”

So Wang Yunhe did not see the eight categories of exemption as a problem; but Zhou You had gone too far, and so he would trim Zhou You by other means.

Even Wang Yunhe’s order was not the order she wanted. He wanted yin and yang harmonized, hierarchy respected.

Hah — hadn’t she known this already? Magistrate Wang’s “changing the law” didn’t amount to much more than: “If your daughter-in-law is reported to the authorities first for scolding her mother-in-law, then killing her daughter-in-law can be treated as a reduced or pardoned offense.” Whatever Wang Yunhe “changed,” his fundamental intention was unchanged — still protecting the thing that made Zhù Ying both humble and low-born. Yet Wang Yunhe was also genuinely trying to do good; he cared for the people, cracked down on unlawful powerful families, and was willing to do things to lighten the burden on poor ordinary people; he even defended the lives of female infants.

He urged Zhù Ying to strive upward, to speak for the people — but that “people,” it seemed, didn’t quite include people like servants. And yet he was caring toward servants, believing masters had no right to abuse them. He felt sympathy for abused courtesans, otherwise Yingying would have had to endure another layer of suffering, and if Pearl had stated she was not a daughter of the Feng family, he could perfectly well have reclaimed that emancipation document. Yet he also managed the official courtesans of the capital, and she never saw him oppose the practice of powerful men taking courtesans out to banquets.

What hope can I still hold? Zhù Ying asked herself.

She had no such expectations of Zheng Xi — whatever would be would be. But toward Wang Yunhe, she had still harbored some. The Cao Shi case had left her with a small dissatisfaction toward Wang Yunhe; and now that Wang Yunhe had laid everything out clearly for her, the block in her chest felt even more wedged in. When Wang Yunhe spoke all of this to her, he was teaching her with sincere and genuine heart, wanting to enlighten a young person with potential to become a “capable official.” With Wang Yunhe’s clear guiding principles, she grasped things more thoroughly than if she had read on her own for three years.

Yet after grasping it, things had not developed in the direction Wang Yunhe had hoped.

Wang Yunhe did not know that the person now speaking with him was the child of a spirit medium family. Born without so much as a household registration, without half an acre of field or a plot of land, and still a woman. Humble and low-born in every respect. Every time Wang Yunhe said something “correct,” it would brush up against the things Zhù Ying most cared about, the things that could not be changed — and so though Wang Yunhe’s discourse was clear in logic and self-consistent, whenever Zhù Ying found herself submerged in the ocean of his knowledge, her foot would touch the bottom, and like a startled rabbit she would leap back up — she must not sink in; she would drown.

Zhù Ying felt worse than ever. By the law, all she wanted was “everyone the same.” By life, all she wanted was “the capable advance, the mediocre step down.” Yet the very first threshold told her: you are not the same as them.

Her eyes saw the world with sharp clarity, like the traces and clues she found again and again in her cases. But her heart was somewhat clouded — just as she had felt watching Zheng Xi and Wang Yunhe render verdicts. Now Wang Yunhe had made clear what adjudication was at its core. The most important thing was not good and evil; above good and evil was noble and base.

Her hands had blood on them; after years in the Court of Judicial Review, she also sometimes wondered: have I done wrong? Now she was certain of her own thinking: I go after what I should get, and deliver retribution to those who deserve it. Each does as they see fit.

Wang Yunhe, having had a satisfying talk, had also done a sort of review of everything he had learned over these years. He thought: when time allows, I must compose an essay and write all this down clearly. If future students benefit even slightly from it, it would not be for nothing that I have read all these books and governed all these years. Truly, teaching and learning advance together!

He glanced up — it was already late at night; he kept Zhù Ying to sleep at the capital prefectural office.

Zhù Ying leaped to her feet: “This is terrible — I have to get home. Ever since being put in prison because of Zhou You, if I’m not home one night, my mother panics!”

Wang Yunhe said, “Go home then — I’ll write you a pass.”

——

When Zhù Ying ran home, it was already past midnight, not a light showing in the house. She touched the door lock — not locked; no one had come looking for her. She gave the door a push; the bracing bar was firmly in place. She had to climb up onto the roof of the gatehouse and jump down.

She pushed open the door to the west side room, lit the lamp, and fetched water from the courtyard to wash up and go to sleep — she had to be at the Court of Judicial Review early in the morning. The sound of fetching water first woke Huajie, who put on her robe and got up, holding a pair of scissors in her hand, and opened the door to ask: “Who’s there?”

“It’s me!”

“Sanlang?”

Then it was Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da — both came out with their robes wrapped around them and shoes barely on their feet, and Zhang Xiangu rubbed her eyes and said, “Oh? Didn’t you say you were staying at the capital prefectural office chatting with Magistrate Wang? Why are you back?”

Zhù Ying said, “How did you know, Mother?”

“I went and asked Head Constable Zhang.”

Zhang Xiangu now realized she had done something a little foolish — an official’s mother having made friends with a head constable was not really appropriate. But it hadn’t stopped her from going to Head Constable Zhang to ask for news, and Head Constable Zhang was quite capable of knowing this much. So Zhang Xiangu had gone home reassured; the whole family of three had eaten dinner and gone to sleep in peace. To be looked upon highly by Magistrate Wang — what could be better than that.

Zhù Ying said, “I still have to report for duty tomorrow morning — so I came home. It’s nothing; let’s sleep.” She glanced at Huajie and thought: let her have a good night’s sleep tonight; I’ll tell her in the morning after she’s eaten, and then tonight when I come home I’ll see how she wants to handle it.

Zhang Xiangu also wanted to boil water; Zhù Ying had already drawn well-water and was washing her face, ready to sleep. Zhang Xiangu said, “Goodness — you can’t wash with cold water! It’ll give you chills!” Zhù Ying said, “How long would it take to heat hot water?” Huajie said, “Don’t worry — I have a way.”

She had woven a little nest of straw with a thermos inside; there was still some warmth left, originally prepared in case anyone needed something to drink or otherwise needed it in the middle of the night. Now it was all brought out for Zhù Ying to soak her feet.

By the time everything was put away, it was the second half of the night; Zhù Ying closed her eyes for what felt like an instant, and then it was time to go to the Court of Judicial Review. She ate her buns with her eyes closed, and said, “Feng Furen passed away.”

Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da opened their eyes wide and exclaimed; they got up and slapped their palms together, taking a few steps in the jumping dance — the rhythm of it, Zhù Ying noticed with one eye open, was still from the spirit medium ceremonies. Huajie set down her chopsticks and sighed softly. Her dealings with Feng Furen had not been pleasant, but she could feel that Feng Furen had done her best to give what she considered the best. To say she was grief-stricken — she wasn’t; but she felt a kind of melancholy.

Zhù Ying said, “Take your time and think about it — whether to offer condolences. I’ll come home tonight and you can tell me.”

Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da stopped laughing; Zhang Xiangu said, “Ah, you’re right — after all, they were acquainted.”

Huajie smiled ruefully: “What am I, that I should go offer condolences? If I don’t get chased out with a mourning staff, I’d count myself lucky.”

Zhù Ying was packing buns as she said, “No hurry — think it over. Can’t let this business keep nagging at you going forward. Anyway, we don’t owe their household anything.” Then: “All right — I’m off to report for duty! Today you all…”

Zhang Xiangu said, “You go on; do we need you to manage the house?”

Zhù Ying had done no small amount of work in this court-appointed case, yet not only did her mood fail to improve — she hadn’t even received her investigative supplement, and still had almost no extra money on hand. Day-to-day expenses were fine, even fairly comfortable, but for actually doing something significant — buying land, buying a house — she had nothing. Save up — who knows when she’d have enough. It almost seemed better to just spend it!

She walked out the gate and said under her breath: “Damn it all.”

Because she had moved to a new house that was closer to the palace, she made it in less time; she walked to the palace gate and had her identity verified by the imperial guards. The head constable on duty today was the Constable Bao who had been part of the original confiscation party; Zhù Ying took one look at his manner, so different from usual, and asked: “What happened to you?”

Constable Bao had a bellyful of grievances, and could only say in a low voice — the palace gate not being the place to carry on — cursing Zhou You’s eighteen generations of ancestors: “He goes to a brothel just to amuse himself! Then he dusts himself off and walks away, leaving us to catch hell! The Great General had no business looking out for him! Let him eat some hardship — wouldn’t that have been better?”

Zhù Ying patted his shoulder sympathetically: “In a few days it’ll all be over.”

“These few days are already brutal enough!” Constable Bao gave a groan. “If it were drilling for a campaign or something else, fine. For him — what kind of thing is that?”

“I heard the southern army is drilling too.”

“Serves them right!”

Zhù Ying said, “Find some medicated plasters to stick on.”

“Already stuck, ow!”

Zhù Ying reclaimed her identity plaque and strolled over to the Court of Judicial Review.

——

The senior officials of the Court of Judicial Review had gone to court; Zhù Ying and the junior staff chatted among themselves.

Yang the Sixth darted over: “Hey, Sanlang — word is you’ve earned the eye of Magistrate Wang? Being guided by him is a rare thing!”

The Left Judicial Officer and others crowded around: “What happened? What happened? Tell us, tell us. Now that is an impressive figure! You’re going to go far!”

Zhù Ying smiled helplessly: “What are you all saying? I consulted him about the Zhou You case — that’s all.”

The Left Judicial Officer said, “Is there anything about that case still unsettled?”

Yang the Sixth’s ears snapped upright: “What? What? Some inside story?”

Zhù Ying said, “Nothing like that — I just wanted to ask, with the case concluded…”

“Tsk!” Everyone hushed her. “What more is there to say? Even if you wore your legs out running, he still wouldn’t be the culprit; even if there was other business of his, the higher-ups want to let him off, and off he goes. Stop thinking about it — take advantage of there not being another Zhou You yet, and get some rest.”

Zhù Ying said, “Is there any big matter coming up? If there’s nothing reported from below, there’s nothing for us.”

The Left Judicial Officer shot her a sideways glance: “You must be the kind who only relaxes when someone treads on you. If someone has to tread on you, better let it be a beautiful foot than that creature’s foot. Does being trodden on by him feel good?”

Zhù Ying pursed her lips, went to look through books. The books she wanted to look at were some regulations — such as the rules for the examination in law, and the conditions for official appointments. The regulations for the law examination were right there in the Court of Judicial Review. The others weren’t hard to find either; Zheng Xi had a taste for books and kept a collection of common reference works; she quietly took these and looked through them.

Having read both carefully, her whole body shook with suppressed laughter. Whether the law examination’s requirements for candidates, or the conditions for official appointments — all said “three generations of clean descent” or “report father and grandfather” and “produce a guarantor.” But they had forgotten one thing — they never specified that only men could sit for the examination. What was written was “citizen” or “whoever is…”

Laughable — the default “person” was assumed to be a man, and they had forgotten that a woman also had one nose and two eyes, a head, two hands, two feet, and a torso. And more importantly — I have a brain too; you didn’t see that coming, did you?

She suppressed her glee and returned these two items to their places, then went looking for the provisions on tribute students, provincial graduates, and so on, and found that none of them specified anything. Thinking it over carefully, the official records of posts and titles also said nothing. She returned to her seat still inwardly chuckling.

After the chuckling, Zheng Xi came back too.

Today was another relaxed day in the Court of Judicial Review — no major cases reported; everyone went about their own business. Some chatted, some made social calls, some thought about private matters, some took the chance to study the criminal code. Zhù Ying was summoned to Zheng Xi.

Zheng Xi asked first: “Did you see the capital prefectural office magistrate?”

“Yes.”

“Got along well?”

“Also… not really. I consulted about some things.”

“Such as?”

“Err…”

“The Zhou You case? Still can’t let it go?”

“Um, Feng Furen passed away. Happened to be passing by, so I consulted about a few points of ritual etiquette, and Magistrate Wang’s interest was piqued and he went on to talk a great deal about ritual and punishment.”

“Mm?” Zheng Xi said, “Ah, I see.” His household had known the Feng and Shen families to some extent, and it seemed in the past day or two he had heard that gifts were being sent out from the household — this must have been what it was about.

He said, “You see — she has gone now. Some people — if you don’t deliberately dwell on them, they pass. Put your attention on proper work.”

Zhù Ying said, “I’ve already stopped paying her any mind. A living dead person — what’s there to dwell on? It was meeting Chen Da’gong on the road, and he mentioned it.”

“He’s hopeless too. Apply yourself seriously and steadily, and in time you won’t necessarily fall behind him.”

“Him? Blame his father.”

“Arrogant! How dare you casually pass judgment on the Chancellor of the Realm!”

Zhù Ying didn’t follow that thread further, and said, “I’d like to request a day off — we’ve been working on this case without rest for the past several days.”

“What are you planning to do?” With most people, Zheng Xi wouldn’t ask; with Zhù Ying, he always wanted to ask.

Zhù Ying said, “Feng Furen has died, hasn’t she? A’Jie — I’ve already found her; if she has sentimental feelings about it and wants to pay her respects, I’ll go with her.”

“Chen Meng’s face carries that much weight?”

“I’m doing it for A’Jie — so she doesn’t have regrets. We’ll see her off this one time and stop thinking about it; after all, we don’t owe their household anything.”

Zheng Xi said, “You and your sense of duty,” and approved the day off. He also told Zhù Ying that outside, she should not speak carelessly or make offhand remarks about the Chancellor. Magistrate Wang had a fine command of learning, and his strengths lay in practical application — that was why he had been encouraged to keep Zheng Xi company; if the magistrate had taken notice of her, she should see more of him. If there was anything that needed coordinating with the capital prefectural office, it would go back through her. And so on.

Zhù Ying dutifully agreed, and spent the rest of the day at the Court of Judicial Review reading books on ritual and etiquette, and clocked out at the proper hour.

——

Back home, Huajie had already made up her mind: “I’ll just see her off from a distance. Whether she wanted to see me or not, knowing she’s gone peacefully is fine. After what happened, she can’t have gone peacefully. We’re all pitiable people.”

Zhù Ying said, “She didn’t treat you well.”

Huajie said, “What she considered kindness may simply have been limited understanding. Her heart…”

She still couldn’t bring herself to say the full words “her heart was good.”

Zhang Xiangu had been listening for a long while and said, “All right then! I’ll go with you too. Just by myself, I’d definitely win in a fight with her!”

Zhù Ying said, “I’ll go along — I already requested the day off. We won’t go to their house; I’ve found out when the funeral procession is going out. We’ll rent a cart, follow from a distance, and just take a look.”

Zhang Xiangu said, “Fine!” and thought silently that she’d buy a bit more salt on the way home later, and sprinkle it when they returned to ward off any evil. Huajie said she would prepare some clothes; Zhang Xiangu said, “Get some paper money for burning too.” Zhù Ying went to hire a cart and arrange for it to be engaged all day, driver included.

That night, Zhù Ying knocked on Huajie’s room door. Huajie had the plain-colored outfit she was going to wear folded and set out neatly. She said, “I don’t know whether to call it mourning clothes or not — I wore it for a year because of Nanny Xia. This time I’m taking it out again — Furen would probably still dislike it, but nothing to be done about it.”

Zhù Ying leaned against the bedroom doorframe and said, “There’s something else.”

“What is it?”

“Xiao Jiang — oh, Pearl — because of the Zhou You case I ran into her again. She’s changed her surname to Jiang now. You see…”

“You want to tell her?”

Zhù Ying said, “Chen Meng. He told me Feng Furen had died, and then asked whether I happened to know where Xiao Jiang was — he wants her to come and pay her respects.”

Huajie said, “Could it be…?”

Zhù Ying said, “I didn’t ask and I’m not getting involved — does it really matter now? The person in charge now is Feng Da’lang.”

Huajie thought for a moment and said, “If I were her — she’s not against acknowledging relatives; she’s just too heartbroken and it’s too complicated. As for telling or not telling… she’s afraid that as time passes, she’ll always have some unresolved thing weighing on her. This is a funeral — it’s a closure. If she’s willing, we can watch from a distance together, in our cart, without letting Da’gong and the others know. If she’s not willing, then it’s not our business, and you don’t owe them anything either. What do you think?”

Zhù Ying said, “All right — I’ll go find her.”

She still had time before curfew, and went to the riverside small courtyard. This time, the moment she knocked, the small dark girl recognized her and called out: “My lady — that young sir is here again.”

Xiao Jiang didn’t have her turned away; Zhù Ying just let herself in.

Xiao Jiang’s main room was filled with bright light; the four walls were plastered white as snow, with a few lines of Buddhist verse hung on them, and a Guanyin figurine set up to one side. The floor had been smoothed to a fine flatness; the table and chairs had been polished until they nearly shone. The drapes were clean, without a single embroidered pattern. Zhù Ying’s foot hesitated outside the threshold; Xiao Jiang said, “Come in and sit.”

Zhù Ying then sat down on the chair closest to the door.

The small dark girl brought tea; the teacup and tray had also been polished bright. A middle-aged woman in blue stood at the kitchen doorway and asked, “Would you like some pastries?”

Xiao Jiang said, “Bring some.”

The pastry plate had not a single crumb on it; the pastries were arranged in neat order, in yellow, white, red, and green — very pretty.

Xiao Jiang asked, “Will you be taking anyone else?”

Zhù Ying said, “Someone has passed away.”

“Mm?”

“That lady — just a couple of days ago. Chen Da’gong found me; I didn’t say I had seen you.”

Xiao Jiang suddenly stood up. Zhù Ying also stood and said, “No need to hurry me out — I can see myself out. I came to tell you: since Chen Da’gong still remembers you, you should have your own mind made up about it. I feel a bit awkward coming here today. It’s your own business; since it’s passed, don’t let it keep getting lodged in your heart. You always need to have a new beginning!”

“I’ve already begun. Are you all just going to keep dragging me back? What does it have to do with me? Master Little Zhù — please go.”

Zhù Ying set the cup back in its place and said, “All right — I understand. Once you’ve decided, don’t waver.”

“What is there to waver about?”

Zhù Ying said nothing, turned and left in silence; she went home, and Huajie, with one look, knew things hadn’t gone well. She said, “It’s my fault for speaking up.”

Zhù Ying said, “I wanted to go too — it’s not like you could have driven me there with a whip, could you?” She hadn’t had such warm feelings toward Xiao Jiang out of the blue; it was only after the long exchange with Wang Yunhe that her heart had somehow inexplicably softened toward Xiao Jiang.

The next day, she and Huajie took a cart and followed the Feng family’s funeral procession, all the way to the burial ground in the outskirts; they watched the interment. Huajie bowed from a distance, burned some paper money. When she stood up again she seemed to have put down a great weight: “All right — I don’t know whether to resent her or respect her. Either way — it’s done.”

Zhù Ying helped her into the cart; Chen Meng rode up on horseback and saw it was just the two of them. A flicker of disappointment, then a flicker of relief. He said to Huajie, “Guan Qun… um, you have always been a kind-hearted person. How have you been lately?”

Huajie said, “Young Master, that is not my name. I am well enough now — three meals and a bed, and peace in my heart. In the past there were misunderstandings and unexpected turns, and much was owed to many people’s care.”

Chen Meng waved a hand: “That was because of who you are. Alas, I must go back.” He looked at Zhù Ying.

Zhù Ying walked with him a few steps, and he said, “Still looking for Pearl?”

“Always a regret!”

Zhù Ying said, “If only I hadn’t been too eager with my hands back then.”

Chen Meng gave an embarrassed smile and said, “Once this is over, I’ll treat you to a drink.”

“Deal.”

Zhù Ying returned to the cart without a backward glance; in the cart, Huajie said, “Chen Da’gong has a sticky, lingering quality.”

“Blame his father,” Zhù Ying said.

“Oh.”

On the way back, Huajie seemed to be in reasonably good spirits and said, “I’d like to go to the Temple of Requited Grace.”

Zhù Ying said, “Let’s go — today this cart is ours all day.”

Unexpectedly, as soon as they entered the city gate, they were stopped by a small dark girl. The small dark girl was asking everyone coming in from outside, “Have you seen Master Little Zhù?” Zhù Ying called to her and stopped her: “What kind of way is that to look for someone?”

The small dark girl grinned: “All the funerals go in and out through here.”

Huajie asked, “Do you know her? Come up and ride?”

Zhù Ying let the small dark girl into the cart; the driver asked, “Still going to the Temple of Requited Grace?”

“Yes.”

In the cart, Zhù Ying asked the small dark girl, “Why did you come?”

“My lady sent me to invite you to come and have a word, and she said — please don’t be angry…”

Zhù Ying patted her head: “Excellent.”

The small dark girl had memorized a whole stomach full of things to say, and none of it was going to be needed; she stared wide-eyed. Zhù Ying made a gesture with her mouth to Huajie; Huajie nodded and handed the small dark girl some pastries to eat. By the time the cart reached the Temple of Requited Grace, Huajie said, “You settle the payment; I can walk home from here on my own. The masters here all know me.”

Zhù Ying settled the fare, and went with the small dark girl to find Xiao Jiang.

——

The same spotlessly clean room. Xiao Jiang sat with a stern face, a string of prayer beads in her hand.

When Zhù Ying arrived, she rose and gave a curtsy, softening somewhat as she apologized, “Yesterday this one was without manners…”

Zhù Ying laughed: “I endured that yesterday well enough; there’s no need for this now. You’d better speak the way you did yesterday. I went to see her — she’s been seen off.”

Xiao Jiang straightened up; she drew a small breath and said, “She…”

Zhù Ying said, “If you want to be sure, there’s still time to go out and make it back before the city gates close.”

“I…”

“Wait for me!”

Zhù Ying went out and rented a cart; no need for a driver, she drove it herself, with Xiao Jiang aboard, and the small dark girl with a basket of paper money and the like packed in as well — all crammed into the cart and driven headlong back out to the outskirts. She knew the road; in no time they were there. The Feng family had already packed up and left; all that remained was an elderly groundskeeper who watched the graves. Zhù Ying drove the cart closer this time; she said to those inside, “Would you like to take a look?”

Xiao Jiang had been jolted about the whole journey, bundled together with the basket of things and the small dark girl in a heap; every trace of melancholy had gone out of her. When Zhù Ying asked, she replied with some irritation, “Look at what?”

Zhù Ying quickly plucked a scrap of paper money from her hair and gave a small cough: “I’ll get a stepping stool; you can come down.”

Xiao Jiang and the small dark girl collected the scattered things and got out; when getting down, Zhù Ying neither steadied the stool nor offered a hand, and Xiao Jiang could only totter down on the stool herself, and gave Zhù Ying a look. Holding the basket, when she looked again at the field of graves surrounded by wild grass, her expression grew sorrowful once more.

She lit the incense and candles outside the grounds; Zhù Ying set up the basin for her; she lit the paper ingots and paper money one by one, slowly burning it all. When she stood up, she said, “When I die, don’t bury me here. Somewhere farther away — as long as I can see it from there.”

Zhù Ying acted as though she hadn’t heard, waited for her to finish burning, and said, “We have to get back — the city gates might close, and I’ll be the one in trouble tomorrow.”

Xiao Jiang, her face caught between laughter and tears, and with a thread of gratitude, said, “Thank you.” She quietly cleaned up the basket. The small dark girl said, “My lady — it’s dirty.” Xiao Jiang’s hands stiffened; she said, “It isn’t dirty.”

Once everything was tidied, they were loaded back into the cart and driven at full gallop back into the city. By the time they reached Xiao Jiang’s house, the drum hadn’t yet sounded. Xiao Jiang said, “Come in for some tea — you must be tired from driving.”

Zhù Ying looked at Xiao Jiang’s expression — as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite begin — and went in to sit in the same chair she had yesterday. Xiao Jiang watched her drink tea and eat pastries, and said, “Should I be grateful to her? She tried to protect me at one point — only she never thought that someone else’s mother also wanted to protect her own daughter. And should I not be grateful? In this world, there are mothers who push their own daughters into fire with both hands, just for a little more money.”

Zhù Ying bowed her head over her tea and didn’t reply; she finished the whole plate of pastries before she said, “No girl should ever be treated that way.”

Xiao Jiang smiled slightly and said, “Ling Ling and the others said you were very kind — you didn’t make fun of them when you were questioning them, and after the case was done you even hired carts to send them home, so they didn’t have to be humiliated on the road.”

Zhù Ying felt a little caught for a moment, and said, “I didn’t really do anything good.”

Xiao Jiang said, “Do nothing good and still sleep soundly and eat well? If it were me, I’d have worried myself to death.”

Zhù Ying said, “We’re not alike — I grew up scraping by one day at a time, not looking past tomorrow; worrying wouldn’t have done any good anyway. Go where things take you, deal with what comes. You used to have things to care about.”

“That was the past!”

“Right.” Zhù Ying said, “Now you can care for yourself. That’s good. I should return the cart. All of those messy things over there — I don’t know what I can do, either. But whatever I can do, I’ll do it. If anything happens around here in the future, you can try looking for me. What if I have some idea? I’m going now — who knows what might come up tomorrow!”

She left without any lingering glance; returned the cart first, then looked in at the Temple of Requited Grace — word was that Huajie had already gone. She rushed home just before the drum finished, and found Huajie had already returned. She said a single word, “Everything’s fine,” and went to sleep contentedly — waiting for tomorrow, and whatever high official or high official’s son might stir something up next, and bring the matter crashing down to the Court of Judicial Review.

On the other end, Xiao Jiang carefully asked the small dark girl exactly how she had found the person; then said quietly, “Ah.”

The small dark girl asked, “My lady — is something wrong?”

“This world is hateful,” Xiao Jiang said, her eyes growing slightly red, smiling as she spoke, “and yet in the end, there turn out to be a few people in it who are not quite so hateful.”