A distinguished guest had arrived at Ci’en Temple, and the abbot had to go greet him.

The abbot had received from Zhù Ying a clear and definitive answer: she bore no ill will toward the Buddhist establishment; her family even followed the faith. The last time she had come here, the incident of catching a human trafficker had not been her way of picking a quarrel with the temple — the man had violated the law of the state. That was not the same as treating the temple as a criminal den.

For an ordinary official to hold this sort of attitude, one could ask nothing more. The abbot was not in a position to demand that officials pledge their loyalty to the Buddhist faith. As for throwing out a clever verse — knowing it and using it at the right moment showed she genuinely understood something of the Buddhist teachings. He pressed his palms together once more and intoned another name of the Buddha. He had a young novice accompany Zhù Ying as she looked around the temple.

Zhù Ying said: “The first month is precisely when the temple is short of hands. I can walk with my mother — we know the way here well. Great Monk, please go about your business.”

The abbot left with a smile. Zhù Ying dismissed the novice as well and went on strolling with Zhang Xiangu. Zhang Xiangu could not really follow the wordplay, but seeing her daughter speak with the monk in perfectly pleasant, gentle tones, she gathered that all was well and was not eager for a monk to come wandering about the temple with them. Mother and daughter slowly made their way up to an elevated terrace and watched from there as the abbot went to receive Duan Lin’s whole party.

Duan Lin was a fine-featured man of middle age, well dressed. Duan Lin’s wife and several young female relatives were also there, bedecked in gold and jade — far more expensive in appearance than Zhang Xiangu’s own dress. Zhang Xiangu clicked her tongue and said: “Weren’t they supposed to have fallen into hard times? Why are they still so grand?”

Duan Lin, looking as he did — that sort of middle-aged man — was the type Zhang Xiangu’s generation of women would naturally find pleasing. This family’s imposing and prosperous bearing, however, made Zhang Xiangu feel unbalanced. Admiration turned to resentment, and she had to ask her question first.

Zhù Ying said: “Their ‘hard times’ are not the same kind of hard times as ours. If you took what we call the dregs and husks of our fodder — the kind we saved up to feed them — they would find it disgusting and have it fed to the horses and donkeys.”

Zhang Xiangu said crossly: “They’ll get their comeuppance sooner or later! Never mind this temple — let’s not wander anymore. Let’s go to Cihui Convent.”

Zhù Ying went with her to Cihui Convent and stopped along the way to leave a few offerings of fruit at a lone grave. Coming back, she found Zhang Xiangu chatting with a child — the son of a woman named Fu. The boy was learning to read and write; Zhang Xiangu had now mastered a few more characters and held her own in a friendly word-competition with the child for half an afternoon. She gave the child a New Year’s lucky red envelope, and Zhang Xiangu’s mood lifted considerably.

Zhù Ying meanwhile was weighing up Duan Lin’s significance, thinking: This is not a man who will be easy to deal with!

Duan Lin — his political record out on posting was not bad. He had had dealings with the Court of Judicial Review before; the cases that had come to the Court through him had all been submitted with proper grounds and clear reasoning. Zheng Xi was a proper scoundrel — he had said nothing of this beforehand, and Zhù Ying had therefore handled Duan Lin’s submissions as she would any ordinary local case. Now that she had learned his name, she had been forced to go back and re-examine every case file that Duan Lin had submitted to the Court over the years. She had also gone through every case connected to officials surnamed Duan. All that extra work done in a very short time — cases that should have accumulated as small attentive notes over years of diligent observation, now had to be compiled in haste. With all her good memory, it had still cost her considerable effort to organize everything into a usable index, against the possibility that it might be needed in the future.

And then in the first month, she also had a major matter to attend to — the capping ceremony.

* * *

The capping ceremony was, in ancient times, an extremely solemn occasion. Capping for men, hair-pinning for women — both were coming-of-age rites. Zhù Ying had gotten away with it and counted as a child for five extra years. Rather — a child laborer.

In the present era, even in proper scholarly households, the ceremony had become considerably less formal. Because many boys from such families wed before twenty and girls had their marriages arranged before fifteen, the coming-of-age rite was often performed in a fairly rushed manner before the wedding. And because the ceremony itself was somewhat cumbersome, over time it had ceased to be conducted in any very formal way.

Generally speaking, one simply held a big birthday banquet, inviting close family and friends. Even the taking of a courtesy name was something many people received before twenty from someone they admired, so it was not necessarily bestowed on this particular day by some man of moral distinction.

All of the above concerned respectably well-off families. For poor people like Zhù Da and Sanlang, they did not even have proper given names — where would a courtesy name come from?

In the imperial family, if special circumstances arose, a capping ceremony might be performed early for a prince, especially the Crown Prince, to signify adulthood — the ability to attend court and succeed to the throne, and so on. This did not necessarily have anything to do with marriage. The date could vary enormously, anywhere from a few years old to the mid-teens.

For Zhù Ying’s “capping ceremony,” the family was both poor and unceremonious, and she had already entered government service early — so, like many households neither poor nor wealthy, it all came to nothing in particular. Had it not been for Zheng Xi specifically reminding her, prodding her most sensitive nerve on the subject of beard-growing, she might not have bothered with this birthday at all.

On her birthday, Zhù Ying sent out a few invitations asking everyone to come to her house for a birthday banquet.

The weather was still quite cold, which meant they had to put up an awning in the front courtyard and a cover over it as well.

Zhang Xiangu felt very apologetic: “You’re already twenty and we’ve never made much of a birthday for you! This time really ought to be properly celebrated!”

Huajie knew the full story and felt anxious; she had no idea what solution Zhù Ying might have worked out. Yet with the twentieth birthday approaching, the question of changing her outward appearance had to be addressed. Huajie had been thinking about it for days and could not come up with any better way. Gluing on a false beard? What if the adhesive didn’t hold? And then there was the matter of marriage and children…

She was worried as she helped Zhù Ying prepare for this “capping ceremony.”

The twentieth birthday occasion was not on the scale of the housewarming, but it brought a few close friends and colleagues — not including the clerks and staff from the Court of Judicial Review. Yet Zheng Xi made the gracious gesture of appearing for a short while; all the officials from the Court were rather astonished — none of them had remotely expected him to show up.

Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da, seeing Zheng Xi, were still somewhat overawed, though far less terrified than they once had been. They stepped forward haltingly and performed a bow, then offered what they considered appropriate remarks: “My lord, you honor our humble house; well met, well met.”

Zheng Xi did not hold their lack of polish against them; he smiled and said: “Congratulations.”

Zhang Xiangu, remembering that Zheng Xi had only recently wed, also congratulated him on his new marriage. Her words came out slightly muddled; Zhù Da did not even think of congratulating him on the new marriage until he heard his wife speak of it and added his own good wishes that Zheng Xi would “have sons soon.” Zheng Xi’s own children were quite grown by now; he nonetheless graciously thanked the two of them.

He thought: Such parents, yet they produced such a child — the ancestors of the Zhù family were truly deeply blessed!

Zhù Ying led him to the seat of honor in the main hall. Zheng Xi glanced around the room and said: “Far too spare.”

Zhù Ying smiled: “Suits me perfectly.”

Although a table was set for Zheng Xi in the main hall with Hu Lian, the Left Investigating Officer, and others to keep him company, Zheng Xi only stayed a short while before leaving. He had come for one purpose: to give Zhù Ying several sets of exceptionally fine formal robes. For the capping ceremony, the rite of placing the cap would have been entirely beyond the Zhù household’s means to stage; Zheng Xi had therefore brought Zhù Ying a full set of clothing, from robe to boots, cap, and sash.

The most important thing he had come to do was not to drink — it was to give Zhù Ying a courtesy name: Zi Zhang.

The courtesy name bestowed, he drank one more cup of wine and said: “With me here, you are all ill at ease. Enjoy your birthday to the full — from today onward, you are grown!”

Zhù Ying bowed with both hands: “Understood.”

Zheng Xi came out of the main hall and asked: “Did Lord Chief Minister Wang inscribe something for your study?”

Zhù Ying led him over. The main hall was not built in the enclosed-corridor style; reaching the study entrance, she opened the several front panels of the enclosed corridor, and the plaque above the study’s door came into view. Zheng Xi said: “Hmm — a decent hand.”

Zhù Ying invited him inside. Zheng Xi went in and looked around; the most valuable objects in the room were Wang Yunhe’s calligraphy and the mountain-shaped incense burner he had given her. He said: “Now that you have the house, you ought to furnish it properly.”

Zhù Ying said quite seriously: “One must know one’s measure — one cannot be too greedy; I want to grow steadily, not eat myself to death all at once. Things have to accumulate bit by bit.”

Zheng Xi was satisfied: “Well said. But remember — you are accumulating, and so are others. After twenty years of building steadily, they are ready to act now.”

“Oh? Then — what does His Majesty think?”

“Why should His Majesty have to think about this at all?” Zheng Xi returned the question.

Zhù Ying understood at once.

Zheng Xi said, “Today is your auspicious day — don’t think too much. Go drink with your guests.”

“Understood.”

She saw Zheng Xi off, then was surrounded by colleagues and friends chatting with her. Sixth Young Lord Yang said: “This sort of superior is out of the ordinary — coming to eat your birthday wine.”

The Left Investigating Officer said, “That depends on who it is. It’s Little Zhù who carries the weight of the relationship here! Speaking of which — what about your new President of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices?”

Sixth Young Lord Yang shook his head: “Can’t say yet — it’s only just beginning, isn’t it? He’s been going through old archived files at our end, hasn’t said anything so far. I’d say he looks about the same as the old President Wu.”

The Left Investigating Officer shook his head.

As Zheng Xi had said, today was Zhù Ying’s auspicious day; the guests kept the conversation pleasant, said nothing dispiriting, ate and drank happily, left behind various gifts, and then departed.

Once they left, the Zhù household counted up the gifts — another tidy little profit. Huajie listed out everything in the accounts; from now on, when any of these households held a celebration, Zhù Ying would need to send gifts in return. Zhù Da and Zhang Xiangu had both had a bit too much to drink and went off to rest. Huajie brought the finished ledger to show Zhù Ying.

Zhù Ying glanced over it and said: “That’ll do.”

Huajie carefully put away the several sets of clothing Zheng Xi had given and stowed them in Zhù Ying’s room: “All fine pieces — your figure has more or less settled; these have extra allowance in them, so handled carefully they should last a few years. Especially these caps, with all the accessories — they’ll serve for a long time.”

“Good — saves money.”

Huajie put the clothing away and asked Zhù Ying: “Duan Lin has arrived — will anything come of it? Is there some intention in the imperial will…”

“The Emperor is no one’s puppet. The Duan family did something disgraceful and provoked Lord Zheng; Lord Zheng dealt with them accordingly, and the Emperor had no reason to intervene. The Duan family has been serving diligently out on posting all these years and has built up real merit; the Emperor has no reason to bar them from coming back to the capital either.”

“The minds of these great personages — truly impossible to fathom.”

Zhù Ying said: “Not so complicated. Think of it this way: the new Metropolitan Governor is different from Governor Wang — but does that change anything for His Majesty? The ordinary people of the capital suffer a little more, but things haven’t gotten so bad that they’ll rebel. Before, didn’t we all live through times like this? If you use Governor Wang as your standard, then the new governor deserves to be strung up. But actually — the officials we’ve seen throughout our lives, Governor Wang is the anomaly. By the same logic, the new President of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices is different from the old one, but it makes no difference to His Majesty.”

The Duan family had done the Emperor service in the past — why should they be barred from the capital?

What remained was simply for each party to play their hand. Even without the old grievance, compare how rarely Zheng Xi and Zhong Yi — both trusted men of the Emperor — had any particular closeness in ordinary times.

“So what will you do?”

Zhù Ying said: “Wait and see.”

* * *

The next day, Zhù Ying went to the Court of Judicial Review to report for duty as usual.

Sixth Young Lord Yang from next door was also still wandering about as usual; the Court of Imperial Sacrifices seemed to show no new developments. But Zhù Ying knew that with Duan Lin taking charge, Duan Ying’s reputation in the capital had grown by another measure. He was now well and truly a young gentleman of established family with both name and substance.

Zhù Ying, a penniless wretch who had come up through the law examination at a rank of lower sixth grade, had no meaningful point of contact with such a person. She and Sixth Young Lord Yang were sitting on the front steps, back to their usual pastime of observing passersby. Zhù Ying had a triangular paper twist with her; she opened one corner and rolled it into a funnel shape — inside was a full load of melon seeds. The two of them sat there cracking seeds and chatting.

Zhù Ying said, “Now that the new President has arrived, you’d better be more careful.”

“What — because of that old bit of bad blood between him and your Lord Zheng?”

Sixth Young Lord Yang was still as careless as ever with his mouth. He was not particularly afraid of the new President — he was not following the scholarly path anyway; he walked the eunuch path. His advancement and demotion lay with Luo Yuan, not Duan Lin. The rank he could hope for from Duan Lin’s favor was not high.

“Everyone knows now, do they?”

Sixth Young Lord Yang said: “Can’t say everyone knows — I just happen to have more sources. I’d say Lord Duan Lin also doesn’t have the face to put that business in his mouth — his family calls itself a house of learning and propriety, and they kept a kept woman and her secret son? He can’t say it out loud. And then your Lord Zheng went rather too far — he managed to give the old couple such a scare that they took ill and died…”

Duan Hong and Duan Lin’s parents had been frightened so badly that they took ill one after another and died. That was the truly weighty matter; with their parents gone, the sons had to observe mourning. Completing the mourning, the good posts in the capital had long since been filled, and Marquis Zheng had since returned from his campaign. The central establishment had quite a tacit understanding in quietly kicking the Duan family out to provincial posts. What good post was simply going to wait around for you?

Zhù Ying thought: As it was back then, so most likely now. Help won’t go too far; when advantage is to be had, no one will hold back.

She offered Sixth Young Lord Yang a word of caution: “New broom sweeps clean — keep your head down.”

Sixth Young Lord Yang thought: Here you are talking behind his back. I’m not afraid.

What he did not yet know was how miserable life became under a superior who was determined to get things done.

Zhù Ying had her guard up against Duan Lin; Sixth Young Lord Yang did not. The moment the first month was out, Sixth Young Lord Yang did not even have the energy to make his rounds spreading news — Duan Lin had started working.

After returning to the capital, Duan Lin had first settled in, then familiarized himself with the situation; then he picked up his social obligations, acquainted himself with the Court of Imperial Sacrifices’ business. When the first month was past and he had a reasonably clear picture, he rolled up his sleeves in the second month and got down to work. He had experience from his provincial posts and went about things in a highly organized manner. The previous President Wu had been the sort to muddle along and let things slide; though there were procedures in place, he had been fond of slipshod ways. With Duan Lin’s arrival, he first defined responsibilities and powers, then set everyone to work. Just compiling the inventories of old archives and drafting various protocols had cost Sixth Young Lord Yang half his life.

Sixth Young Lord Yang, who had previously run freely all over the place, was now collapsing each day like a tired old dog.

Zhù Ying watched with a cool eye. What Duan Lin was doing as President of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices was already quite commendable — by no means inferior to Zheng Xi. And Duan Lin was not targeting Zheng Xi; Zheng Xi was not targeting Duan Lin. The two neighboring offices continued in their old way of mutual non-interference.

What Zheng Xi most wanted to do now was to advance Zhù Ying’s nominal grade to Court Grandee of Literary Distinction. As a matter of course, all three Chief Ministers unanimously rejected the proposal.

The three of them did not even bother reporting the matter to the Emperor; all three said Zheng Xi was being absurd. Court Grandee of Literary Distinction was a grade of lower fifth rank. The expression “a court full of red and purple robes” — the “red” referred to the grade at which one could wear red robes. Those of fifth rank and above wore red or purple.

For a young official barely twenty, with no particular background and no major meritorious deed, the proposal was outrageous!

Wang Yunhe specifically summoned Zheng Xi for a long talk, admonishing him: “You must not force the plant to grow! I know you love talent and cherish it — yet for someone of barely capped age to wear the red, you are truly being fantastical. What merit? What deeds cannot be left unrewarded? Diligent and capable? Devoted to the public good? On these two grounds alone, who is not? Everyone is putting in their years; how can she be an exception? Has she defended the realm? Saved the Emperor’s life? Turned the tide in some critical moment? You have been accumulating tenure for her all these years — already enough; she has already risen quickly enough. This kind of special treatment places her in danger. And you yourself are cultivating private clients and treating court appointments as your personal plaything! Can one Duan Lin really put you in such disarray?”

Zheng Xi was left with nothing to say. He knew Wang Yunhe had also seen through some part of his calculations — but Wang Yunhe’s words were so entirely principled. If the argument were to be voiced any louder, Zhù Ying would become a target, and his own plans would further fall apart. Besides, Chen Luan and Shi Kun also disagreed — it was clear he had moved too hastily.

What made Zheng Xi even more displeased was that not only had Zhù Ying’s promotion been blocked, but another member of the Duan family had now been brought into the capital. Duan Zhi — the eldest of the Duan brothers.

The Duan parents had five sons: Duan Zhi the eldest, Duan Hong the second, Duan Lin the third — now the current President of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices. When the kept woman died, the parents fell ill; Duan Hong could not hold out and also fell ill — somewhat after his parents, and he too died. Duan Hong died childless, so Duan Zhi adopted one of his own sons to carry on Duan Hong’s line. Then the whole family returned home to observe mourning.

Now that Duan Lin had returned to the capital to serve as President of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, Duan Zhi, the eldest, had returned before him. He was given a comfortable sinecure post at lower fifth rank — which happened to come with the grade of Court Grandee of Literary Distinction.

Zheng Xi reviewed the people in his camp. Setting aside the old associates of his father, the ones he had built up himself were almost none who had passed thirty. The country was at peace; there had been no occasion for anyone to win great merit. Zhù Ying had participated in several major cases at the Court of Judicial Review and had accumulated more merit than most — already quite a lot, by any reckoning! If Zhù Ying could not reach the fifth rank, no one else under his wing had any chance at all.

With these few officials of sixth rank and below under his command, how was he to guard against the Duan family’s people?

Zheng Xi sighed. It seemed he would have to go back and consult further with his father, and take over the management of the father’s students and protégés.

* * *

Zheng Xi had not put all his eggs in Zhù Ying’s basket. While he was working out a backup plan, an incident happened involving Zhù Ying.

One day in the fourth month, a censorate official submitted a memorial impeaching Zhù Ying.

That Zhù Ying had grown up and was now the subject of a formal separate impeachment by a censorate official was something she herself found fairly astonishing.

At the time she was at the Court of Judicial Review, reviewing cases from the Metropolitan Governor’s Office. The Metropolitan Governor’s Office had seen a spike in brawling incidents over these past few months. More brawls meant more cases of serious injury or killing; these cases, after the Metropolitan Governor’s Office had tried them, would be reported to the Court of Judicial Review for review. Zhù Ying looked at the names signed at the bottom — the familiar faces she knew were still working at the Metropolitan Governor’s Office; only the man at the very top had changed.

She handled things the same way as she had during Governor Wang Yunhe’s tenure, prioritizing the Metropolitan Governor’s Office’s cases for review. Everyone still had to live in the capital; staying on good terms with the local authority never did any harm.

She was in the middle of working through the documents when someone suddenly came running in: “Deputy Justice Zhù! Deputy Justice Zhù! Something’s wrong! Someone’s been impeach — impeached…”

Zhù Ying said, “What’s the matter? Lord Zheng being impeached is nothing out of the ordinary — he can handle it.”

“No — it’s you!”

“Impeaching me? Oh my — I’ve done well for myself.”

In her own mind, Zhù Ying was not deserving of an impeachment. She was not a governing official presiding over a territory; she had not done anything cruel or unconscionable. What charges could possibly be leveled against her?

She said, “What crime am I supposed to have committed?”

“Flattering and fawning on superiors.”

“What?” She had not even sent heavy gifts to Wang Yunhe, had not gone to push herself on Old Acquaintance-from-back-home Chief Minister Chen’s household, and when Zheng Xi was married, she had been sitting at the banquet eating. She had fawned on Zheng Xi? From the very first time she met Zheng Xi, it was her who had been taking money from him!

Shortly, the Left Investigating Officer came in dragging Sixth Young Lord Yang with him. Sixth Young Lord Yang had had a miserable few months — Duan Lin had not singled him out for persecution; it was simply that being set to doing actual work was hard enough in itself for a man of pure incompetence who had gotten his post purely through eunuch connections. He wiped off his sweat and said: “I asked around — it’s not coming from Lord Duan Lin’s side; this is from the censorate.”

The Left Investigating Officer said: “That goes without saying!” Censorate officials as instruments — the most effective kind!

Zhù Ying said: “Exactly what are the charges against me?”

The Left Investigating Officer asked: “Did you build Zheng Yi’s house, send him things, send him charcoal?”

Zhù Ying’s eyes widened: “And that’s fawning on superiors?”

The Left Investigating Officer said: “We all know it was being considerate and kind to someone; but to a person who wants to make trouble, they’d say you were abusing your public position for private ends — using the Court of Judicial Review’s accounts to curry favor with a kinsman of our Lord Zheng, treating the Court as though it were the Marquis’s…personal treasury.”

There it was — so this is where they had been lying in wait!

Zhù Ying said: “Then let them investigate. Don’t worry about it. Come on — what’s next? Where’s Old Hu? This document needs his co-signature; once he’s signed, get it sent over to the Metropolitan Governor’s Office right away. They’re busy enough as it is.”

Sixth Young Lord Yang asked cautiously: “You’re not worried?”

Zhù Ying said: “Worried about what?”

Sixth Young Lord Yang hunched his shoulders and said: “I’ll head back then.”

In a short while, there was quiet murmuring in the Court of Judicial Review too. A subordinate doing things for a superior’s household was the most ordinary thing in the world; since Zhù Ying had not withheld what belonged to everyone in order to curry favor with a superior, she remained everyone’s good friend, and everyone’s emotions stayed perfectly steady. The universal sentiment was contempt for the memorializing censorate official for stirring up trouble over nothing.

Moreover, the storehouse guard swore up and down: “Nothing from our stores was used to support that Young Master Zheng — I was watching; the accounts are all there.”

People began speculating: “Someone must be jealous — this has to be aimed at Deputy Justice Zhù specifically.”

Others added: “Oh, and speaking of the Duan Lord President’s family — back in the day their conduct was hardly honorable, wooing Lord Zheng’s aunt with marriage, then going off and keeping a mistress with the wife’s own dowry money to have an illegitimate child…”

“That fits! They’re using Deputy Justice Zhù to kill the chicken and frighten the monkey! Does anyone think the rest of us can’t see what’s going on?”

Whatever the case might be, once an impeachment memorial was submitted — and making this kind of accusation — it was not a good thing for Zhù Ying’s reputation. If you committed some genuine crime of corruption, that at least had a kind of dark capability to it. “Fawning and flattering” — what was that? It was like arriving in a prison and everyone else introducing themselves with murder and arson, and yours had been accidentally breaking the night curfew while walking down the street. It made people look down on you.

By the time Zheng Xi came down from court, the whole Court of Judicial Review had been discussing this for quite some time. Zhù Ying, as if nothing had happened, reported the day’s affairs, and at the end said to Zheng Xi: “Should I step aside to avoid an appearance of conflict of interest?”

Zheng Xi’s expression was also none too good: “You must first defend yourself.”

A self-defense memorial was needed — one had to write a memorial explaining the other party’s charges against oneself, then wait for an investigation. Because what was being impeached related to matters Zhù Ying had handled at the Court of Judicial Review, it was best to avoid, as an appearance of conflict of interest, involvement in some of the affairs connected to those matters. The nominal charge was “flattery and fawning” — but lurking behind it was the suggestion of embezzlement and misappropriation of public funds, which also implicated Zheng Xi.

Zhù Ying said: “Understood.”

Her style when drafting memorials had always been quite direct and to the point. The reasoning she set out was simply this: she had met Zheng Yi at a dinner at Zheng Xi’s house; that night she had seen the fire at Zheng Yi’s house blazing so fiercely it was visible from her own home; seeing it, she had gone to express her condolences. The memorial having been submitted, she went to Zheng Xi to request leave to go home and rest. Zheng Xi said: “Since when does someone say a few words to you and you want to go home? Go on and do your official business! Have you forgotten how to work?”

He too had his temper up. Duan Lin had been back only a matter of days, and already someone was taking aim at “his” Court of Judicial Review? He submitted his own memorial demanding that the censorate official produce evidence, and simultaneously arranged to give the Duan family’s people some trouble. He felt his face had been lost — he had spoken quite clearly to Zhù Ying, saying he would arrange her advancement, and instead of an advancement, here came an impeachment — connected to Zheng Yi on top of it. To a sharp eye, this was a two-for-one: dispose of Zhù Ying, and drag the Zheng family into the mud with her. Contemptible — they did not dare come straight at him.

When a subordinate was targeted, the superior lost enormous face.

Zhù Ying’s emotions, however, were entirely calm. Harsh words? She had heard enough of those. “Fawning and flattering”? That was nothing — she had not been raised on the Confucian classics. When she had genuinely been flattering people, none of these people had ever witnessed it. What was a fortune-teller’s patter, what pleasantries had she not dispensed when their livelihood depended on it?

She went on handling the various official documents, and kept reviewing cases from around the realm. The male ward had a Jailer Mei whose mother had died; she also approved his compassionate leave and the Court’s bereavement subsidy.

The Court of Judicial Review staff saw her conduct herself this way, and saw that Zheng Xi had also stood up for his subordinate; everyone was reassured. Little did they know that the calm lasted barely two days before Duan Zhi submitted a further memorial asking for an audit of the Court of Judicial Review’s accounts. The stated grounds were eminently reasonable: since the allegation was one of openness and transparency, an audit would clear the suspicion and restore Zhù Ying’s good name.

Zheng Xi’s face immediately fell. He was not afraid of an audit — Zhù Ying herself could manage accounts, and he had Shao Shuxin as an advisor, not to mention the Court’s own full-time accountants; none of them were amateurs. But Duan Zhi, that old scoundrel — who did he think he was, wanting to audit the Court of Judicial Review over a cartload of charcoal?

Ah — so this is what you were lying in wait for!

If the audit were refused, it would look like “a guilty conscience.”

At court Zheng Xi challenged outright: “Is there evidence? Surely one cannot first assign a crime and then manufacture evidence for it?”

The censorate official who had submitted the memorial turned out to be a blunt young man of low rank. Before the court he showed not the slightest fear, saying: “It is Zheng Yan who stated it himself! On such-and-such day, in such-and-such place, in company with such-and-such persons, at a banquet attended by a number of singing women…”

Zheng Xi had not anticipated this turn: “Zheng Yan?”

“Precisely!”

* * *

Zheng Yan was Zheng Yi’s elder brother. Zheng Yi’s household had not yet divided; the four brothers all lived together with their parents. Zheng Yan, the eldest, was already married with children; he had entered official service before the mourning period, but was the most mediocre of the lot. He was grown plumper with a small paunch beginning to protrude — a glance at his face told you he was the type who loved to hold forth over wine.

It has to be said that plenty of people loved to hold forth over wine.

New Year’s fire at Zheng Yi’s house — the damage was not catastrophic, but a house could not be left in disrepair; beyond the burned portions, some rooms in the long-occupied compound had grown old, cramped, and dated, and this was a fine occasion to renovate the whole thing. The household had also grown since they first moved in; redesigning and expanding would be needed as well.

With the household undergoing renovation, Zheng Yi had played a major role in managing things. Zhù Ying had introduced the highly capable Fu Long and virtually a complete set of craftsmen; even the suppliers of building materials were people she had dealt with before. The tradesmen earned less when dealing with Zhù Ying, but at Zheng Yi’s — they earned more. Yet with Zhù Ying in the middle, they had not badly overcharged Zheng Yi either. Zheng Yi compared the costs with what friends and neighbors had paid for similar work and found the craftsmanship solid and the materials honest; he praised Zhù Ying as a straightforward person at home to his family.

With his younger brother handling everything, Zheng Yan was free. He was not the type to feel his brother was outshining him and that he had somehow been offended; he talked about his brother at drinking parties with friends and could speak well of him. Praising the younger brother naturally led to a mention of Zhù Ying. When men drink and boast, there are no limits; “helping introduce some people” became “sent men over to help my brother” and “materials arrived the same day” and even “gave it all as a gift.” The friends chided him; Zheng Yan had to insist he was telling the truth: “He’s one of the Court of Judicial Review’s men — works directly under Seventh Young Lord, manages all the Court’s routine affairs…”

Backed by reason, internally consistent, and altogether an extremely plausible picture of how human relationships and favors worked — where was there a place that did not have this sort of thing?

Unfortunately, this reached the ears of a young censorate official. This censorate official had absolutely nothing to do with the Duan family — he simply could not abide such a brazen case of using public office for private gain!

Zhù Ying was an official of the Court of Judicial Review; the facts came from Zheng Yan’s own loose mouth; the censorate official was simply discharging his responsibilities. As for Duan Zhi piling on — well, of course he would. It would have been strange if he had not!

The Secretariat did not shield anyone; the Emperor said: “Have the censorate investigate the matter fully.”

Fortunately, Zhù Ying was still only a “suspect,” not a “criminal”; there was no need to arrest her, search her home, and seize evidence. She completed the formal handover of duties with Hu Lian and was given a proper leave of absence — indefinite duration.

Back at home, Zhang Xiangu, Zhù Da, Huajie, and Du Dajie all wore anxious faces. Cao Chang told them: “Handled so many affairs, never once brought anything home from the Court — how could they…how could they…”

Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da launched into curses against the censorate official; Huajie had already privately cursed the Duan family’s ancestors back eight generations.

Only Zhù Ying said, in perfect calm: “Getting paid without working — where does that kind of good deal exist?”

Zhù Da asked: “Why not go to Lord Zheng and say something? Wasn’t this all done for him?”

Zhù Ying said: “What does this have to do with him? Nothing. It’ll be fine — Du Dajie, what are we eating tonight?”

Zhang Xiangu asked anxiously: “Lord Wang — Governor Wang, that is — Lord Chief Minister Wang has always thought well of you, hasn’t he? Should we go look for him?”

Zhù Ying said: “I keep saying, there’s nothing to worry about. Do you want Lord Chief Minister Wang to vouch for me? Or to interfere improperly? I haven’t done anything against the law — let them investigate; it will clear the suspicion for good. No one will be able to use this against me again in the future. Dinner!”

The rest of the household were too anxious to eat. Zhù Ying ate a perfectly good meal, then went to the upper floor of her study and sat reading in the fresh early-summer breeze. The lamp had only just been lit, fitted with its shade, and she had barely turned two pages when the door was knocked — someone had come to see her.

Zheng Xi had sent Gan Ze to relay a message: “Just rest easy at home — he’ll sort things out!”

Wen Yue and Zheng Yi came in person. Neither of them had imagined that what had been no more than a routine favor would be seized on by a censorate official through the indiscretion of Zheng Yan’s tongue. Even the fresh breeze of the upper floor did nothing to cool Zheng Yi’s anger; he cursed: “That damned Duan Zhi!” He then apologized to Zhù Ying on his brother’s behalf. Zhù Ying said: “What are you apologizing for? Even if this had not happened, they would have found something else. Once they had made up their minds to look for trouble, no matter how careful you were, nothing was going to stop them.”

Wen Yue said: “What’s your plan?”

Zhù Ying thought for a moment and said: “Might as well use the time to learn something new. I’ve rarely had leisure like this these past few years. Don’t be too downcast. Come on — let’s smile.”

Wen Yue and Zheng Yi were both reduced to laughing in spite of themselves: “You can still laugh?”

Zhù Ying said: “Let them audit the accounts all they like!”

Wen Yue said: “Seventh Young Lord is not going to let them ransack the Court of Judicial Review at will.”

Zheng Yi said: “I and Fu Long — the craftsmen — we all have accounts.”

Zhù Ying shook her head lightly. “That’s not what I mean. Let them audit. Let them investigate.” She glanced back at Gan Ze — the three of them were talking, and Gan Ze, though he had followed them upstairs, was keeping a servant’s proper distance and not joining in. Zhù Ying said to Gan Ze: “Tell Lord Zheng — let them investigate.”

Gan Ze asked: “What does Seventh Young Lord investigate?”

Zhù Ying smiled: “Ask Lord Zheng if he remembers that list I once asked him for.”

“Understood.”

Wen Yue and Zheng Yi said: “You were prepared all along?”

Zhù Ying said: “When you move against someone, there are only so many methods: setting two parties against each other, killing the chicken to frighten the monkey, cutting away supporters one by one, using one force against another, striking directly at the head… When you come against me, you still have to worry about what’s behind me — I don’t have that worry. My superior is still Zheng Xi. There’s nothing above me.”

She smiled. “Let me deal with Duan Zhi alone. Lord Zheng is in a position of authority and has to respond officially; there’s not much to say about the censorate official — and as for one Duan Zhi, I’m quite enough to handle him. You would be doing him too much honor by paying him any further attention. The real main course hasn’t been served yet — if you stuff yourself on the appetizers, won’t the main course laugh at you?”

All three burst out laughing.

She showed them out.

The moment the door closed, Wan Nian County Magistrate Liu and others had sent messengers with calling cards asking after her. Zhù Ying replied to all of them: “Please convey to your lord — I am still managing; there’s no need for alarm. In a day or two, I’ll invite him for a drink.”

After curfew, the Zhù household finally fell quiet. Zhù Ying was getting ready for bed when Zhù Da, Zhang Xiangu, and Huajie came in together. Zhù Ying sat on the bamboo couch and said: “I’ll finally be able to sleep in of a morning — no morning muster before dawn; isn’t that good? Keep your wages all the same. Not working but still getting paid — where’s the harm in that? Even if I have some trouble, Lord Zheng won’t abandon me at a time like this. But for these few days, be more careful about what you say to outsiders.”

At that, Zhang Xiangu immediately went after Zhù Da: “You’d better not brag about your child when you’ve been drinking!”

Zhù Da said: “I wouldn’t dare say a word!” He then cursed Zheng Yan — getting all that help and then not knowing when to keep his mouth shut — “We’re not helping them anymore! Nothing but trouble.”

Zhù Ying knew that a little wine in him and Zhù Da would boast a little himself — things like my child’s an official, come find me if there’s anything you need, or my child’s yamen gave out something good again today, and so on.

If this impeachment made him a little more cautious, it was not an entirely bad thing.

Zhù Ying thereafter stayed home and read. Occasionally she also went out for a stroll, anywhere in the capital she liked. She was even invited by Wan Nian County’s Magistrate Liu to help look over the scene of a brawl and identified a suspect.

Not far from the pleasure quarter, she was also stopped by Xiao Ya. The girl’s eyes looked rather timid; she asked: “Deputy Justice Zhù — if they’re auditing your accounts, what about your money…”

Zhù Ying said: “My money can withstand investigation. Tell your Madam — I know what I’m doing with my money; she can just carry on with her own life.”

“Yes!” Xiao Ya brightened. “Then Madam won’t need to sell the house.”

Zhù Ying started — but the child had already run off. Zhù Ying shook her head, walked on, and ran into an old man selling musical instruments who had fallen by the roadside — this sort of thing happened quite often in the capital. Zhù Ying considered a moment, then pulled out some coins, bought an end-blown flute from him, and also took a bamboo transverse flute — both instruments she had some foundation in; it was a good time to practice them at home. She found her way to the small food stall in the neighborhood and watched the people cooking, wanting to pick up a technique or two — the cooking at home was genuinely not very good to eat. She could eat it, but since she had the ability to do better herself, there was no need to insist on that level of cuisine.

An official — even one under impeachment — really should not be carrying on like this. Huajie led Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da in physically hauling her back home.

* * *

Zhù Ying was having a colorful time; the staff at the Court of Judicial Review meanwhile cursed the Court of Imperial Sacrifices roundly every single day. Even the Court of Imperial Sacrifices’ President walking past their gate got a spit behind his back.

Outside, people might still call her “grand manager” and snicker — but within the Court, the benefits were real and tangible, felt in every aspect of daily life. No matter how capable you were, you could not do what she had done from that minor position of Judicial Review Deputy Justice. Once things were inconvenient, everyone thought of Zhù Ying; the moment they thought of her, they cursed Duan Lin.

Duan Lin himself was having a hard time!

He genuinely had not arranged this! If he were going to act, it would not be now — his son was sitting the examinations; stirring up trouble at this moment was just making trouble for his own son. Could he wait until Duan Ying had succeeded gloriously before doing anything?

Yet Zheng Xi had already convinced himself it was the Duan family’s doing. Because Duan Zhi had stepped in and made the situation worse. Of the five Duan brothers, the third, Duan Lin, was the most outstanding; the most mediocre was the eldest. He was the eldest — supposed to be the backbone of the family — but family members never listened to him, which caused Duan Zhi tremendous suffering. He always lorded over others by virtue of his seniority as elder brother, and he did not like to hear Duan Lin’s reasoning. The only thing that had come back to the capital before Duan Lin himself was his wound — his pride in being the eldest brother.

In Duan Zhi’s view, it was Zheng Xi — that young bastard — who had ruined their parents and their second brother; no retribution was too heavy. Duan Zhi’s own official career had not been smooth; he had emerged from mourning only to be sent to a provincial posting. The place was not a rich one; he lacked Duan Lin’s ability to acquit himself well, and his reputation had not reached the Emperor’s ears. His return to the capital was also thanks to his third brother’s return — the Emperor had been reminded there was still a Duan Zhi and, somewhat belatedly, arranged a transfer back for him as well.

With Duan Lin on one side contending with Zheng Xi, and the elder brother’s pressure on the other, seeing an opportunity when Duan Lin looked at him, Duan Zhi’s mild resentment became something more heated; he declared that — considering the man had ruined his parents’ health and driven his second brother to an early grave — any retribution was justified. Duan Zhi’s official situation was not good; he had been out on posting for three years after mourning and done nothing remarkable; his name had never reached the Emperor’s ears. He was sent back mainly because Duan Lin returned and the Emperor was reminded there was a Duan Zhi, and had him transferred back belatedly.

Duan Lin was fighting it out with Zheng Xi on one end while dealing with his elder brother’s pressure on the other. Seeing what his brother had done, even Zheng Yi did not feel particularly inclined to scold his own brother Zheng Yan anymore.

Because Zhù Ying had sent Zheng Xi a message, Zheng Xi did not forcefully block the investigation; this allowed the censorate to go through the accounts that could be audited. Temporarily sealing part of the accounts meant the Court of Judicial Review staff cursed even more viciously. Even if Hu Lian had all of Zhù Ying’s ability now, still — it was going to delay everyone’s supplies money.

He led them in cursing Duan Lin.

Zheng Yi also did not keep still; he angrily confronted the memorializing censorate official: “Are you saying I’m some poverty-stricken hanger-on who can’t manage without other people’s charity?” He hauled the craftsmen to the censorate to let them explain to the investigators that accounts were settled with Zheng Yi, not with Zhù Ying.

The Zheng Ducal Household was furious and submitted a memorial: “Are you saying I did nothing, simply watched my own kinsman starve and suffer while someone else had to take him in? This impeachment is not of Zhù Ying — it is an impeachment of my lack of brotherly feeling!”

Duan Zhi, heedless of his brother’s objections, personally submitted a further impeachment of Zhù Ying for “unlawfully seizing civilian farmland.”

The Emperor was getting a headache from all of them.

The worst of it was still to come — when the accounts of the merchants involved were examined, they pulled in relatives of the Duan family by marriage.

Whether or not Zhù Ying had taken money from the merchants was uncertain, but Duan Zhi’s in-laws had genuinely extorted merchants. A tenant farmer named Tian testified that a certain powerful person had threatened his household to “come under their protection”; this person had been extremely oppressive toward the tenants, who had had no choice but first to find themselves some backing. The “certain powerful person” happened to be Duan Lin’s wife’s brother — the same man who had recommended Duan Lin to the Emperor as a capable official who should be transferred to the capital.

The Emperor was merely irritated. The censorate official who had submitted the memorial was now in a deeply awkward position. He truly had not been acting on Duan Lin’s instructions, yet there were those saying he was Duan Lin’s lapdog — caught between two worlds. His colleague Jiang Zhi had actually investigated and found that, since Zhù Ying had been managing the Court of Judicial Review’s affairs, the Court’s assets and revenues had increased; calling her negligent in her public duties while personally enriching herself was probably not going to hold. It was hard to say she was incompetent when the results spoke otherwise — or that she should have done even better. The censorate too had to be reasonable about things.

Now it was Zheng Xi’s side demanding a full investigation of Duan Zhi and Duan Lin.

Zheng Xi’s own mother went into the palace at this juncture to weep before the Emperor: “They want to audit my child — every cabinet in the house turned out, not a shred of dignity left to us! What gives them the right?! And now it’s proven our child is spotless clean — they are filthy to the bone — and it’s just going to be dropped? What gives them the right?!”

The Emperor turned the matter over to the Secretariat: “Resolve this promptly.”

In the Secretariat, Shi Kun wanted nothing to do with either party. Wang Yunhe was disgusted by both sides’ wrangling — particularly with Duan Zhi’s faction. Whether Zhù Ying might do things that skirted the line, Wang Yunhe understood perfectly well: in her position, and in that capacity, one had to keep one’s superiors well served. If the superior’s approval was not maintained, there was no opportunity to get anything done at all — what was she supposed to do? Wang Yunhe considered Zhù Ying adequate to the task.

Chen Luan also had his preferences; he did not like the Duan family either, finding them rash. Barely back in the capital and already retaliating — were they afraid no one would notice?

So let them investigate?

Wang Yunhe and Chen Luan both said: fine, investigate. Shi Kun said: “They’ve walked into a trap, and besides, they’ve only just arrived in the capital — they probably haven’t had time to commit serious crimes.”

Chen Luan smiled: “Is that not ideal then? Make a gesture of settling it and move on.”

Wang Yunhe said: “Seizing farmland and extorting merchants must be investigated and made clear!” He had been Metropolitan Governor!

In the end it came out that the Duan family’s time in the capital had been truly too short; even if they had wanted to commit major illegal acts, there was not enough time to have done much. They were ordered to disgorge the farmland and population they had “received under their protection” in those few months; the Metropolitan Governor’s Office was to arrange for these to be properly resettled. They were also ordered to return the extorted money to the merchants. Their relatives by marriage fared worse: one was dismissed from office and one was demoted in rank, both banished from the capital.

* * *

But matters were not yet concluded. Prince Gaoyang, defending his nephew, led men to tear down the walls of the Duan family’s goods warehouse — even the roof tiles were stripped off — and had people stand inside looking at the rare goods within, asking: “What is all this?”

On the Metropolitan Governor’s territory, there was no longer any Wang Yunhe to manage this sort of thing.

Zhù Ying returned to the Court of Judicial Review in the manner of a “capable and effective official,” and from before she had even entered the imperial city gates, she was surrounded by enthusiastic onlookers. That the censorate’s audit had produced no criminal finding was nothing special — but finding in the process that someone was this capable was rare; and she was so young! This made many a presiding official green with envy.

The Court of Judicial Review’s officials and staff had not stopped singing her praises during her two months away. Whenever a day went badly, they thought of the damned Duan family; the moment they thought of Duan Lin, they thought of the halcyon days when Zhù Ying had been there. You had no idea how many tricks a minor deputy justice could pull from a position this small.

She was the same as she had always been — three parts smile for anyone she met, joking and teasing with familiar faces. She even said: “Isn’t a censorate official just doing his job? If I’ve committed an error, better he impeach me first, I become aware and correct it, and so avoid some even greater and unrecoverable mistake in the future. That’s doing me a favor.”

Now those really were words of grace!

Zhù Ying said this lightly, and returned to the Court of Judicial Review. Hu Lian, as before, handed over the ledger: “Back, back, back! Oh, and it’s time to issue the ice ration.” Minor officials in the capital were not entitled to a large ice allotment; a whole family getting a taste of it was already something. Zhù Ying could always get a little extra for everyone.

Zhù Ying said: “Fine. Let me first write a memorial — I ought to ask forgiveness before anything else.”

They all said: “Official business first — no hurry, no hurry.”

“In weather this hot, how can there be no hurry?” Zhù Ying laughed.

The memorial had already been drafted; before submitting it, she needed to first sort through the Court’s pending affairs — if anything needed guidance, it could be done in one go. By the time Zheng Xi had come down from court, she had already reported to him. Leng Yun standing nearby laughed: “Back at last! And what is there to ask forgiveness for? It wasn’t your mistake.”

Zhù Ying being cleared also reflected well on him. If Zhù Ying had only produced benefits for Zheng Xi while also producing benefits for Zheng Yi, he would have felt privately sore about it. Now that it was confirmed Zheng Yi had received no extra benefits, his heart was easy.

Zheng Xi said: “Don’t listen to him — write it sincerely.”

Zhù Ying said: “Already written.”

“Let me see.”

Zhù Ying wrote sincerely enough; she first wrote that she — a person of low rank — should not have wasted the time of the Emperor and the court with matters that should not have occupied people handling real affairs of state, and this had been her failing. Then she wrote that as a young person, she lacked experience; being impeached meant she had not handled things carefully enough. Then she wrote that she would take this as a lesson — that in the field of the melon patch or under the plum tree, even innocent actions could be misread. She suggested the court should issue a directive that all officials would be well advised to refrain from all dealings with their superiors’ relatives.

Zheng Xi cursed: “What nonsense — don’t go playing tricks again.” He took his brush and struck out that last section. Pei Qing leaned over to look and began to laugh as well; he said to Zhù Ying: “You’re not Seventh Young Lord — how can you speak to His Majesty like that?”

Zhù Ying said: “Speaking the truth to His Majesty…”

Zheng Xi made her rewrite it; Zhù Ying changed the last passage to: taking this as a lesson, even well-intentioned concern for others should be measured; it is best not to involve oneself in others’ affairs beyond an expression of sympathy.

Pei Qing read this last passage and strangely felt a twinge of melancholy; he privately cursed Duan Lin for being no kind of man.

Duan Lin had no rebuttal at this point. More galling still: Duan Ying had passed the jinshi examination this spring — but owing to the impact of this case, none of the chief examiners had been willing to rank him first; instead he had been placed in a middling position.

Duan Lin counseled his son: “This one incident has made clear how meticulous and calculating Zheng Xi is. In all matters henceforth, do not act rashly. Alas — one must never take what one has done oneself and use it against another, lest it be turned back against you.” At this point he did not know that his family’s relatives by marriage had been ensnared through Zhù Ying’s prior preparations as a safeguard for herself; yet even so, he felt a stirring of curiosity about Zhù Ying: someone this capable, and Zheng Xi protecting her so carefully? Now that was interesting.

* * *

Zhù Ying had anticipated that Duan Lin might notice her — but she did not mind. Going with Zheng Xi meant being prepared to be noticed by Zheng Xi’s enemies.

That day she brought some official documents to the Secretariat to request Wang Yunhe’s seal of approval.

Outside the Secretariat, she encountered a red-robed old man with a very unfriendly gaze. Zhù Ying, following protocol, moved aside and waited for him to pass. To her surprise, this person stopped in front of her and asked: “Are you Zhù Ying?”

“I am — this humble official — yes. And you are?”

“Hmph!” The man measured her with a contemptuous look, then turned and swept away: “A callow little brat — nothing special!”

Zhù Ying watched him go, then grabbed a passing secretary of the Secretariat: “Who was that just now?”

“Court Grandee Duan Zhi.”

“Well, well! Ha!” Zhù Ying smiled. Truly, she had reason to thank this Court Grandee.

She went in with her documents to make her requests. Shi Kun offered a few hollow words of consolation. Chen Luan added one more word, for this young fellow-provincial of his: “To not be moved by favor or disgrace — that is the true character of our kind.”

“Understood.”

Wang Yunhe had the documents countersigned first, then said: “In serving as an official and managing affairs, encountering difficulties is inevitable. Do not let one moment’s events cause you to lose your commitment to serving the realm and the people — and thereafter sink into discouragement and corruption. A gentleman must temper the heart as well.”

“Understood.”

Zhù Ying answered him just fine, but that very evening at home did something that was the height of “being startled out of one’s skin.”

She trimmed a bit of horsehair, then dug out some adhesive and made herself a false beard by hand.

The next morning after breakfast, she mounted her horse for the imperial city. Just before reaching the gates, she pulled out the false beard and stuck it onto her face. This false beard she had not made with any care — the workmanship was decidedly crude, of the “obviously fake at a single glance” standard. The people who saw it all laughed; Wen Yue said: “What on earth are you doing?”

Zhù Ying said: “Being obedient. I haven’t been obedient before. Yesterday, Court Grandee Duan Zhi called me a callow little brat with no beard, nothing fit for serious work. I’m sticking one on freshly made, so he won’t be displeased to look at me and impeach me again.”

Wen Yue barely managing to hold back his laughter: “Take it off, take it off quickly! With all the people coming and going here, do you want to be impeached again?”