Li Ze looked at the young man before him — elegant as an orchid, noble as a jade tree.

The Duan Family’s qilin child.

Li Ze had only recently come out of mourning, and his brothers and sisters had all gone their separate ways. They still couldn’t understand why he had to shield the secondary wife, why he had to keep a scandal buried within his own household. Li Ze had tried to persuade them — family affairs should be resolved within the family — but they believed the secondary wife was full of treacherous schemes, that this whole business of her claimed “sacred pregnancy” was nonsense, and it would be better to hand her over to the law to be put to death.

After yet another quarrel that ended badly, he quietly entered the capital.

His own son couldn’t understand him either. That child still believed, to this day, that the secondary wife should never have been taken in the first place.

Looking at Duan Ying, Li Ze also found himself envying Duan Lin: if only I had a son like this.

Yet when Duan Ying stood before him, he felt not the slightest sense of warmth.

Li Ze knew about the matter between the Duan Family and the Zheng Family. Although he hadn’t witnessed it personally at the time, he knew something of it. Back then, the Duan Family had indeed suffered a great loss, and harboring resentment was only natural. Now they were coming to find him again — what did they want him to do? Did he look like the sort of person who could be used as someone else’s weapon?

Li Ze smiled amiably and asked, “How is your father keeping?”

Duan Ying replied, “Thank you for your concern, Uncle. He is well.”

The two families had some dealings with each other in the past. Li Cang and Duan Lin’s father were of the same generation and had both once held positions in the capital. Duan Ying was thus calling on an elder in his own name.

Li Ze asked further, “And your uncle?”

Duan Ying gave a helpless smile. “He is furious.”

Li Ze laughed. “He always has been.”

Duan Ying said, “That he managed to extricate himself at all is already a stroke of fortune — there is nothing to be done about his anger. It’s a pity that my father is unable to move about freely at present, so he has had no choice but to send me here to pay a visit. There is, in truth, one matter I would like to entrust to you.”

“Oh?”

What Duan Ying spoke of, however, was not a scheme against Zheng Xi — rather, he was asking Li Ze, at some suitable moment, to put in a good word for his Fifth Uncle. “My Fourth Uncle’s son has been adopted into my Second Uncle’s line, and my eldest uncle doesn’t mention my Fourth Uncle at all anymore. The eldest brother is like a father — my own father alone cannot persuade him. If my Fifth Uncle could also return to the capital, the two of them together might manage to sway him. I humbly implore you.” As he spoke, he produced a gift list and presented it with both hands.

When Li Ze heard the phrase “eldest brother is like a father,” he thought to himself: if only my own brothers had a head on their shoulders like Duan Lin’s! He said, “Our two families are old friends — there is no need for such lavish gifts.”

“A small token of regard, nothing more.”

Were the two families truly on such intimate terms? Not quite — but one was willing to perform, and the other was willing to play along, and so they went back and forth, making quite a convincing show of it.

Li Ze had no intention of accepting this arrangement. Getting Duan Ying’s Fifth Uncle into the capital? Under the current circumstances, raising the matter would accomplish nothing — he’d only get himself reprimanded. And even if the man did make it back, whether he’d be more likely to dissuade Duan Zhi or to move against Zheng Xi was anyone’s guess. Li Ze was already beset on all sides. He hadn’t yet brought his own brothers back into line — did he want to provoke Zheng Xi on top of that? He had no desire for any of it.

Though there was always that small suspicion nagging at him — a persistent feeling that whoever had used his jade pendant to bring word to his household was deeply suspicious. By the reckoning of the days, Zhù Ying should have arrived around that time. And yet Zhù Ying’s build and voice bore no resemblance to the messenger at all. Zhù Ying, who never put on a false face, who had refused Chen Meng to his face without so much as a pretense of courtesy — that too had left a sour feeling lodged in his chest.

But even if there had been a deception, he would not become Duan Lin’s weapon.

Duan Ying pressed again: “My father also knows that the timing is far from ideal. Whenever you feel the moment is right — any time at all will do. These days, others avoid us as they would a snake or a scorpion. I can only hope, Uncle, that you will take pity on us.”

Li Ze played tai chi with him. “Your uncle was far too impulsive.”

Duan Ying looked directly into Li Ze’s eyes. “My uncle may indeed have been impulsive — but does Uncle truly believe that what happened was his doing?”

“Hmm?”

Duan Ying said, “What’s done is done. Dwelling on it is pointless and will only hinder what comes next. It is ‘what comes next’ that my father and I are worried about. That Zhù Ying — there is a person who wants to accomplish great things. Anyone who wants to accomplish great things will inevitably stir up trouble.

Forgive my presumption, Uncle — take Chancellor Wang as an example. When he served as Jingzhao Prefect, he was determined to make his mark, and even the capital’s powerful families had no choice but to stand down. Even if Zhù Ying is not Zheng Xi’s vanguard, a talent like his, wanting to make a name for himself, is only human nature. So what will he do next?

I fear that in the days to come, many people will have difficult times ahead, and the root of it all lies with him. His actions are unpredictable and impossible to foresee — and he does not listen to advice.”

Li Ze started to say, “A mere…” — the words “young upstart” left unspoken.

Duan Ying smiled calmly at him. “Truly a ‘mere’ matter? I would call him a man of exceptional talent.” He assessed Zhù Ying with no trace of emotion: “Shrewd and decisive. You need not have any grievance against him, or have offended his patron — you need only to be in his way, and he will show his fearsome side. In the future…”

Li Ze drew a quiet breath. “Now there is a troublesome person indeed.”

“Indeed…”

Li Ze did not respond, and Duan Ying said nothing more. The two sat in silence for a long while, until Duan Ying could no longer hold back and called softly, “Uncle.”

Li Ze said, “Oh — I’ve kept you too long.”

Duan Ying lowered his voice. “I have disturbed you. About that matter…”

Li Ze gave a gentle shake of his head. “It’s difficult. The Council of State is furious. Did you think that handing over one Yu Si would settle everything?”

“And so my uncle has also been stripped of his post.”

Li Ze said, “Since you’ve called me Uncle, let me offer you one word of advice: don’t make any rash moves.”

Duan Ying looked at his placid expression and finally said, “If my Fifth Uncle’s matter cannot be arranged — then that Zhù Ying—”

Li Ze raised an eyebrow. Duan Ying gave a bitter smile. “Forgive me, Uncle — this time, we lost far too much face.”

“Just face?” Li Ze smiled and gestured for Duan Ying to take his gifts back with him.

Duan Ying said, “Even among old family friends where formalities are relaxed, no one sends a gift and then takes it back. If my Fifth Uncle cannot return, I ask only one small favor of you.”

“Hmm?”

Duan Ying said, “My father is not in a position to submit this memorial himself. I ask that you, Uncle, at a suitable moment, petition for the young officials in the various bureaus and offices of the capital to be sent out to local posts for practical experience. Just this one memorial — you need not single out anyone. Others will take care of the rest. As for the positions they vacate, there will be many who want them. Uncle, surely this small favor you can grant?”

A brief flash of comprehension crossed Li Ze’s face, followed at once by composure.

Neither man had any further desire to continue the conversation. In the end, Li Ze accepted the gifts, and told Duan Ying: “Go back and ask after your father’s health for me.”

“Yes. Thank you, Uncle.”

Li Ze watched Duan Ying depart, his brow furrowed tight. He strongly suspected that Duan Ying had not brought up Zhù Ying by chance — it seemed almost like a deliberate prod, nudging him to move against this feather in Zheng Xi’s wing. And yet…

Duan Ying had spoken directly to what lay in his heart. Even setting aside all the suspicious circumstances of the past, considering “the future” alone — he would still have to think about it!

Li Ze had a son too. That boy might be quarreling with his father, but what father doesn’t think of his son? If a number of young men could be moved out of the capital, better vacancies would open up…

Duan Ying returned home and reported to Duan Lin: “He is tempted.”

Duan Lin gave a quiet laugh. “He can’t refuse.”

“Father, can he actually pull it off?”

“You think he’s a fool?”

“Well — no, that’s not it.”

Duan Lin said quietly, “The line between wisdom and foolishness is very thin indeed. In the days ahead, you must cultivate your virtue and maintain your studies — do not neglect them.”

“Yes.”

Having sent his son to meet with Li Ze, Duan Lin returned to his usual routine, continuing to make his mark at the Court of Imperial Sacrifices. Another half a month passed, and there was no sign of Li Ze submitting any memorial. That was normal enough — Zhù Ying had not yet returned from leave to resume her post, and if Li Ze submitted a memorial now, whoever got kicked out of the capital wouldn’t be Zhù Ying.

Duan Lin waited a few more days, estimating that Zhù Ying should be returning soon, and then he paid Li Ze a personal visit.

He arrived simply dressed, with a small and unpretentious retinue.

Li Ze received him with courtesy. When they met, he greeted him first: “Director of Imperial Sacrifices.”

Li Ze’s current rank was not as high as Duan Lin’s. He bowed first; Duan Lin returned half a bow. The two men, ceding precedence to each other, entered a small reception room together, and then moved on to the study. Duan Lin spoke differently from Duan Ying — very courteously, he said: “I have come to ask a favor.”

Li Ze said, “What matter requires my assistance, Director?”

Duan Lin said, “It concerns my son. Though he passed the imperial examinations, he has yet to be appointed to an office. Rather than waste his years idly, he would do better to enter official service through the hereditary privilege route. I would like to place him with you.”

Li Ze had been given a position as Secretary in the Secretariat Directorate after returning from mourning — an arrangement made through the good offices of Chancellor Chen, whose late superior had been Li Ze’s father. For the sake of appearances, Li Ze had to show proper gratitude, and Chen had thus extended him some favor after his return.

Li Ze still hesitated. Duan Lin said, “All parents are alike in this regard — you, brother, are much the same, I think? My younger brothers no longer heed me as they once did. I can only look to managing my own son first.”

The two exchanged a glance, and quickly found themselves in accord. Li Ze said, “I only fear that Zheng Xi won’t release the man.” Duan Lin said, “That is not for him to decide. Why should everyone else be able to leave the capital, but not Zhù Ying? Even if she were Zheng Xi’s own flesh and blood — when it’s time to go, she goes.”

Li Ze said, “The arrangements must be proper. If we’re sending people out, let’s send them far.”

“A county magistrate is an official who governs the people directly. Young people who want to accomplish things should all serve a stint in a local post — only then will they know the hardships of the human world.”

“Wannian County is also a county.”

Duan Lin said, “So it must be far — the farther the better.” This was his true aim. His original plan had always been to cultivate his influence and re-establish himself in the capital, while simultaneously trimming Zheng Xi’s wings. Young people going out to gain experience? The young people in the capital, the young people around Zheng Xi — Zhù Ying was not the only one!

Li Ze said, “We still need a pretext.”

Duan Lin smiled. “Nothing can be accomplished without patience. We can wait — and if we can’t wait for the opportunity, we can make it.”

The two shared a knowing smile.

The one being schemed against, Zhù Ying, was also smiling at this moment. It had been nearly two months since her injury, and she could finally move freely again — though she still couldn’t exert herself too strenuously.

She said with a smile, “I can finally return from leave.”

Zhang Xiangu wanted her to rest another month. Zhù Ying said, “I’ve already rested for two months. It’s time to get out and about.”

Before going back to end her leave, she still had a few people to visit.

Her first stop was the Zheng residence.

She had Cao Chang go ahead first to present her calling card, and then received a summons from Zheng Xi.

When Zheng Xi saw her wearing the clothes he had sent, dressed in a manner that befitted her station, he observed a change. Compared to before, there were fewer smiles on Zhù Ying’s face. In the past, before him, she had a slightly childlike, deliberate playfulness — because she had to manage so many matters, she often wore a smile that was a little courteous, a little forced. Deep down she always had a certain pride and wildness; sometimes her conduct had a slight rigidity to it. Now none of that was visible. The person before him was more composed and entirely adult.

Zheng Xi thought to himself: a person who has passed through the shadow of death does indeed carry something different about them.

He was gratified, and asked, “You’re well enough to come back?”

Zhù Ying said, “Yes.”

Zheng Xi said, “Come!”

Servants carried in a place setting. Zhù Ying said, “Are you actually going to make me drink wine?”

Zheng Xi said, “You? You watch me drink.”

He had not set out wine for Zhù Ying at all — what sat before her was only a bowl of honey water. Zhù Ying lowered her head and looked at the reflection of her own face in the porcelain bowl of honey water, and let out a quiet sigh within.

Zheng Xi said, “Now that you’re well, there should be a welcome banquet — but it’s not appropriate to make a big occasion of it here right now. Just the two of us, eating and talking.”

“Yes.”

Zheng Xi frowned, looked at her. Zhù Ying gave a nod. “Alright.”

Only then did Zheng Xi show a pleased expression. “Back at the Court of Judicial Review, you’ll have to get busy again. Hu and Zuo have both been run ragged.”

Zhù Ying said, “They were perfectly capable all along.”

“Compared to whom,” said Zheng Xi. “After you return, in a couple of days, there’s one more thing for you to handle.”

“Oh?”

“Su Kuang is due for a promotion as well. You handle it.”

“But—”

“Favors still matter.” Zheng Xi said. He was having Zhù Ying go and present this favor to Su Kuang, which clearly indicated he had already made his arrangements.

As the two ate and talked, Zheng Xi spoke about his plans. He felt that the Left Court Attendant had performed adequately during Zhù Ying’s assassination attempt, which confirmed that Zhù Ying had not misjudged his character. The Left Court Attendant, though slippery, did have some genuine loyalty, and was someone who could be used. Zheng Xi intended to have the Left Court Attendant laterally transferred to the position of Vice Prefect, and then promote Su Kuang to Court Attendant.

Zhù Ying did not ask about his plans for herself. Zheng Xi spoke first: “You’ll still need to stay at the Court of Judicial Review for a while. Your injury has only just healed — you shouldn’t overexert yourself. You’re familiar with the Court, so it won’t demand too much of you. Once you’ve fully recovered, we’ll discuss it further.”

“You’re not keeping me as a caretaker anymore?”

Zheng Xi said, “A Vice Prefect at the sixth rank, senior grade — how could she caretake easily? Wherever I go, I’ll find a way to bring you with me.”

Zhù Ying said, “Alright.”

Following him wherever he went — that was the treatment given to a trusted confidant, and the treatment given to a vanguard. Wherever they went together, it meant forging a new territory. Do well, and everyone rises together; do poorly, and everyone goes down together. “Insisting on a specific person” meant that Zheng Xi had to put out personal favors to negotiate — something he had not originally planned to do.

The Council of State had rejected the petition to make her a Court Prefect at the Court of Judicial Review; the reason stated plainly: not yet qualified.

So Zheng Xi was not going to let her toil on at the Court of Judicial Review any longer.

This was treating her with greater regard than before. Telling her in advance was also a kind of trust.

Zhù Ying naturally could not refuse such goodwill.

The two ate for a while, then Tang Shan from Prince Zheng’s side came personally, saying, “The Prince asks after Sanlang.”

Zheng Xi said, “Isn’t he busy fishing?”

Tang Shan said, “He heard Sanlang was here, and put down his fishing rod. He invites you over for a talk, and says he has something good to drink over there.”

Zheng Xi said, “He really ought to spare himself — this child has no filter at all.” And then he personally brought Zhù Ying along.

Prince Zheng was in the courtyard, where a fine horse stood. The Prince smiled. “You’re here? No need for formalities! Come, take a look — what do you think of this horse?”

Zhù Ying had already been tipped off, and stepped forward. “It’s a fine horse.”

Prince Zheng tossed her the reins. “It’s yours.”

Zhù Ying said, “That’s rather generous.”

“Spineless!”

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to care for it properly,” Zhù Ying said. The horse Jin Liang had given her, in truth, hadn’t been cared for that well — otherwise she could have spurred it to gallop straight to the Imperial Guards when she was chasing the assailant. Cao Chang had tried his best, but the Zhù household couldn’t provide a fine horse with the best quality fodder. Feed was only one issue. There was also no large space to exercise the horse. It had been kept in less than ideal condition, and so it couldn’t be put to proper use.

So Zhù Ying thought, an ordinary horse was good enough for her.

Prince Zheng said, “You don’t have to care for it yourself.”

Zheng Xi said, “Take it.”

Zhù Ying had no choice but to accept this ancestral treasure. She felt a little sorry for the horse — following me from now on, you’ll have to endure hardship. She said, “Now Cao Chang will have a new darling to fuss over.”

Zheng Xi laughed. “That boy just has too honest a heart.”

Prince Zheng asked who Cao Chang was. Zhù Ying said he was Gan Ze’s cousin, a very honest lad. Prince Zheng said, “A person from the Gan family — reliable.” He then said Zhù Ying had no household guards at all, which was not good.

Zhù Ying said, “They’d all be no match for me anyway. The Jingzhao office has also arranged for more night patrols in the area. Better to have fewer people at home and have them be trustworthy. I’m gradually working on it.”

Prince Zheng dropped the matter and asked Zhù Ying about the events of that day, then asked her: “Was it the knife I gave you?”

Zhù Ying always carried that golden knife on her person. She immediately took it off and offered it for the Prince’s inspection. Prince Zheng turned it over in his hands for a moment and said, “When I gave it to you, I never thought it would be this useful.”

He had someone bring out two knives, both longer than what Zhù Ying currently carried — one about a foot long, one several feet long. The blades were slender and narrow; the scabbards were decorated in patterns of black, red, and gold. When drawn, the edges gleamed like snow.

Zheng Xi said, “You’ll be stopped at the palace gates.”

Prince Zheng said, “On the road you can use them!”

He then had a fine bow brought out, and presented Zhù Ying with a suit of soft armor as well. Zheng Xi was somewhat surprised: Father seems unusually pleased today.

Zhù Ying accepted the many gifts from Prince Zheng without ceremony. Prince Zheng said, “Try them.”

Zhù Ying did not leap about, simply drawing the blade from her right hand and spinning it in a brief flourish. Prince Zheng said, “Who taught you that? All show, no substance. When you have time, go and spar with Jin Liang.”

“Yes.”

Prince Zheng said with satisfaction, “Alright, you two go and amuse yourselves.”

Zheng Xi waited until they were back at the table, the remains of the first meal cleared away and a new spread set out, before saying, “Old man acting like a child. Now, where were we?”

When Zhù Ying left the Zheng residence, she couldn’t go anywhere else — she had to return home to put away the gifts. Besides Prince Zheng, Zheng Xi had also given her quite a number of things.

When she got home, the family was startled all over again.

Huajie was deeply anxious. “What are they preparing you for this time?” Things that came from the Zheng household were never free. They were all exchanged with one’s life — the more they gave, the more would be required in return, like compound interest on a usurious debt.

Zhang Xiangu and Zhù Da both remarked on how generous the Zheng family was. Though they were unhappy about their daughter’s injury, with so many gifts arriving, they had little more to say.

Zhù Ying said, “Go ahead and put everything away.”

Huajie asked, “And you?”

“I still need to go to Chancellor Wang’s residence to give my thanks.”

Huajie said, “Rest your feet first before you go. That new horse — you’re not familiar with it yet. Wait until your body is fully well before you gradually get used to it. Take the carriage for now.”

Zhang Xiangu felt the same. But Prince Zheng’s horse was truly magnificent — even someone like her, who knew nothing about horses, couldn’t help but circle around it admiringly.

Zhù Ying said, “I’m not going right this moment, either. It would be improper to turn up without presenting a calling card first.”

Huajie quietly pulled Zhù Ying aside and said, “That horse is too fine. There are too many gifts. I’m afraid there will be more demands to come.”

Zhù Ying said, “They have already been quite fair.”

“You were so badly injured.”

Zhù Ying shook her head. “The horse was something Jin Liang mentioned even before he came. The extra things are the old man’s genuine high spirits — his sons and grandsons aren’t the sort to make use of his old weapons. As for compensation, Zheng Xi has already given that.” She had received a portion of it during her recovery, and just now there had also been Zheng Xi’s promise to always look out for her. This time had already been well worth it.

She kept the weapons for herself and handed everything else over to the family to sort out. Zhù Ying prepared a gift and got ready to visit Wang Yunhe’s residence to express her thanks.

When she went to Wang Yunhe again, she still wore the clothes Zheng Xi had sent, and also belted on the short knife.

When she arrived at the entrance of the Chancellor’s residence, the gatekeeper paused for a moment before recognizing her. “Sanlang!”

Zhù Ying said, “It’s me.”

The gatekeeper felt that Sanlang seemed somewhat different from before.

There were quite a few people at Wang Yunhe’s gate. People were quietly asking each other who this person was who could walk straight in. Some who recognized Zhù Ying called out her name, and from many of those who heard it came a single drawn-out “Oh—”

During Zhù Ying’s two months of recuperation, her reputation had actually improved considerably. From flatterer, trickster, buffoon, fierce troublemaker, and capable worker, it had shifted to “remarkable” and “trustworthy.”

A young person of twenty, who didn’t frequent pleasure quarters, didn’t drink excessively or gamble, went home to read books as soon as she left the office, and even bought pastries to bring home for her parents. Her thinking was meticulous — she had made her home extremely secure. This all came out in the confessions of those who had tried to kill her.

Even a disciplined scholar of twenty going about their studies might not be so self-controlled. And someone who no longer needed to work hard, who could enjoy life freely, yet was still this disciplined — that was quite reliable indeed.

Now looking at her again: dressed in dark-patterned brocade, carrying a quiet, understated luxury, fair-skinned and slender, the knife at her waist giving her a certain air of martial bearing.

People felt a flash of envy toward her father.

Zhù Ying waited briefly until Wang Yunhe finished receiving his previous visitor, then was shown to the study. Wang Yunhe looked her up and down and showed a pleased, joyful expression. “Good.”

He also readily accepted the gift she had brought, had her walk a few steps, then sat down and said, “It seems the recovery has gone well. You must be even more careful in the future.”

Zhù Ying said, “Yes.”

Faced with a young person like Zhù Ying who clearly understood everything, Wang Yunhe didn’t need to over-explain. Many of the principles of court life, Zhù Ying already understood. She would never question why Duan Zhi had been let off — any clear-eyed person could see that Duan Zhi had been behind the scheme. She would never question why Duan Lin was not called to account — Duan Lin was probably not a good person either.

After her brush with death, she had come here this quietly, to thank an old man who had shown her care during her injury.

Wang Yunhe was gratified that he had not misjudged her character. That Zhù Ying had survived such a scene was already a surprise and a joy. The fact that she had persevered and helped catch the perpetrators was all the more remarkable.

In the end, Wang Yunhe said only one thing: “You are not Zhu Fuyan.”

Zhù Ying’s lips curved upward involuntarily. “I am Zhù Ying.”

Wang Yunhe’s time was tightly scheduled, yet he still sat with Zhù Ying a while longer before letting her leave.

After that, Zhù Ying visited a number of friends and acquaintances, then met with Old Ma, Old Mu, and others. Prefect Wu had put his foot down, and Old Ma and Old Mu had been keeping a low profile. Seeing Zhù Ying alive and well, they both said, “As expected of Sanlang.”

On the day Zhù Ying officially ended her leave and returned to her post, many people already knew she was coming back.

Before she even entered the imperial city, she was being observed by many — watching her, and watching her horse.

Wen Yue was delighted to see her, saying, “What a relief! Even the family at home can stop worrying now.”

Zhù Ying said, “Much obliged for thinking of me!”

All the way through, she exchanged greetings and bows with people, and arrived at the Court of Judicial Review surrounded by well-wishers. The Left Court Attendant and others were all overjoyed: “You’re back! You’re back!”

His rapport with Zhù Ying had grown a few degrees closer, and his tongue had also gotten bolder. “Hey, how come you’ve actually put on weight?”

At home, Zhù Ying had been nourished continually for two full months. First Zhang Xiangu, who believed rigorous supplementation was absolutely necessary; second, the cook, who had come specifically to feed her; and only after those two came Huajie and Du Dajie. Between them all, Zhù Ying had been fed to a rosy plumpness, her face noticeably rounder than before.

Hu Lian said, “Sturdier is better!”

They gathered together and chatted about the new developments of these past two months. They also spoke of the capital’s latest news. In recent days, Zhù Ying’s story had gradually been overshadowed by another major piece of news — the Emperor’s most beloved daughter, Princess Five, was to be given in marriage. The Emperor and the Empress Dowager had considered many candidates and chosen for her the son of Princess An’ren. The match was made by the Emperor’s other sister, Princess Ande.

Princess An’ren had always been somewhat imperious herself, and living under her influence, her husband and son had both developed very gentle temperaments. The Emperor therefore wanted to choose a gentle consort for his daughter — the Prince Consort need not have any great achievements, as long as he could live happily with Princess Five.

For a princess to be given in marriage, preparations were of course necessary: first the investiture, with the Emperor conferring the title Princess Yongping upon his daughter. Then came the residence, the ceremonies, and the dowry. Reportedly, the Crown Prince himself would personally escort his sister to her new home.

The Court of Judicial Review had this piece of news to discuss, and people talked of it with lively animation, everyone speculating about what kinds of festivities there would be.

Only when Zheng Xi and the others returned from court did everything settle down. Zhù Ying then paid her respects to her superiors, before making a round of the entire Court of Judicial Review to thank everyone for their well-wishes during her period of recovery.

Even with what Zheng Xi had spoken to her about and a clear sense of her own future, Zhù Ying did not slack in her work at the Court of Judicial Review. Whatever needed to be handled, she handled. She also called up the case files from these two months to review them, so she would have a full picture of everything. On the surface, apart from being somewhat more composed, she was no different from before — giving no sign at all of being someone who would be transferred away together with her superior in the not-too-distant future.

With Zheng Xi’s words in mind, Zhù Ying also began making preparations for him. In addition to the matter of Su Kuang, she put together a roster for Zheng Xi — filling nearly every vacancy, and marking those that couldn’t be filled, including the shortfalls among the lesser officials.

Three days later, this roster was ready. She brought it to Zheng Xi.

Zheng Xi asked, “What is this?”

Zhù Ying said, “It would be useful to know in advance who will take charge of the Court of Judicial Review.”

If it was going to be someone on their side, leave some vacancies — whoever took over would also need something as a carrot to keep people working. If it was going to be someone not on their side, fill every vacancy first, and see what tricks they could pull.

Zheng Xi laughed and scolded her: “You crafty thing!” He had had similar thoughts about the Court of Judicial Review himself. That Zhù Ying had thought along the same lines as him and come prepared the moment she returned — that was really too much to his liking.

He accepted the roster anyway, reading through it carefully, then pointed to several names and talked through them with Zhù Ying: “Don’t touch this one. That one I’ll transfer away…” He also had Zhù Ying fill in the positions of the lesser officials — that part he didn’t concern himself with.

Not many days later, Zheng Xi did transfer the Left Court Attendant to the position of Vice Prefect and promoted Su Kuang to Court Attendant. Then Zheng Xi had a long conversation with Pei Qing, followed by a chat with Leng Yun, and gradually filled in the Court of Judicial Review’s vacant positions. Zhù Ying could see that the new personnel included the influence of both Pei Qing and Leng Yun.

The days passed slowly. Before long it was time to prepare charcoal for the winter season again. Zhù Ying handled the preparations in the same way as before. The benefits extended to the Court of Judicial Review also left the newly arrived officials astonished — could the Court of Judicial Review actually be such a prosperous place?

Autumn gave way to winter. While Zheng Xi was hastening his preparations, the Emperor — just as anticipated — transferred Zheng Xi away!

The Emperor solemnly summoned Zheng Xi. “Seventh, how long have you been at the Court of Judicial Review?”

Zheng Xi had already prepared himself and answered with complete composure. Sure enough, the Emperor said, “You have done very well at the Court of Judicial Review. There is now another important matter that only you can handle.”

Zheng Xi asked, “What matter would that be?”

The Emperor smiled. “The Grand Tutor of the Eastern Palace is elderly and keeps falling ill — it’s been causing problems. Go to the Chamberlain’s Office. The decree will come down in the next couple of days. You must not fail my expectations!”

The Emperor — Zheng Xi’s dear imperial uncle — had taken his full-grown nephew and transferred him to serve the Crown Prince as the Grand Chamberlain of the Eastern Palace!

Zheng Xi nearly lost his composure!

Grand Justice of the Court of Judicial Review: third rank, upper grade — a senior minister of the realm. Grand Chamberlain of the Crown Prince’s Chamberlain’s Office: first rank, full grade — overseeing all large and small affairs of the Eastern Palace.

This was an appointment Zheng Xi had never imagined for himself.

He had considered a lateral transfer to any of the other Nine Ministries, and in his boldest dreams had imagined becoming the head of one of the Six Ministries. Or going to a region as a powerful governor. Even a transfer to a military command would have been consistent with his family’s tradition.

For any of these four possibilities, he had countermeasures and detailed plans. He had even thought through how to arrange his people.

And then, out of nowhere, a thunderbolt: the Eastern Palace?!

The Eastern Palace had its Three Tutors and Three Companions — the Crown Prince’s official teachers — who all held high ranks, and among them were Chancellors serving concurrently; all were advanced in years and of great virtue and prestige, and some had even been Zheng Xi’s own teachers. Fortunately, the Three Tutors and Three Companions did not need to be filled to capacity — currently only three positions were occupied.

The Eastern Palace was a rather sensitive place. Appointments and transfers of its personnel were also sensitive. Even with the Emperor growing older and the Crown Prince himself being a full-grown adult, it was more complicated in some ways than transfers among regular court officials. Zheng Xi could turn any place he presided over into his own domain. The Eastern Palace — there he still lacked confidence, and was somewhat wary.

The Eastern Palace was a supremely tempting bait. Do well there, and look at men like Zhong Yi — they could feast for life on past connections and goodwill. Then look at Zhou You — the favor extended even to sheltering useless descendants. Truly enormous; so enormous that even if he could refuse, he didn’t want to.

But the Eastern Palace also carried dangers, especially now, with the Emperor aging and the Crown Prince in his prime.

Zheng Xi was like a starving man who had swallowed a piece of scalding red-braised pork — unable to swallow further, unable to spit it back up.

He ventured cautiously: “Your Majesty, am I not perhaps too young? I fear I may not command enough authority…”

The Emperor said, “I say you can, so you can.”

Things having come to this, Zheng Xi could only solemnly accept this assignment.

When word reached the Court of Judicial Review, the entire court was thrown into uncertainty.

Zheng Xi was their backer. With their backer leaving, who would replace him? What would happen in the future? They looked at this one, looked at that one, all feeling considerable unease. Things at the Court of Judicial Review were quite good as they were — they had no desire for major changes.

But the Emperor did not dispatch a new chief official to the Court of Judicial Review. Instead, he had Pei Qing “temporarily act” — just temporarily acting, without elevating Pei Qing to the full position. Pei Qing became the Emperor’s appointed caretaker of the Court of Judicial Review, much as Zheng Xi had earlier asked Zhù Ying to serve as its caretaker.

Everyone was shaken for a while, and then all eyes turned to Zhù Ying.

Zhù Ying also hadn’t expected the Emperor to transfer Zheng Xi to the Eastern Palace.

On the surface, she still had to respectfully wait for Zheng Xi and Pei Qing to complete the handover and give their remarks. Both men’s words were moving. Zheng Xi spoke of his reluctance to leave, recalling the years of shared hardship and joy with everyone, and finally said: “We’re still all within the same palace — it’s not so far apart! We’ll be able to see each other often. You are all old acquaintances of Zi Cheng’s — I don’t need to say more, do I?”

Pei Qing expressed his reluctance at Zheng Xi’s departure but also congratulated him on the promotion, and then indicated that everything would continue as before — he was following established precedent.

After that came helping Zheng Xi move his things and seeing him off, which cannot all be recorded in detail here.

During this time, Zheng Xi and Zhù Ying exchanged a glance. Both were resigned — the Eastern Palace was a bit of a thorny matter. The consolation was that the Court of Judicial Review had changed to Pei Qing’s oversight, which was not necessarily a bad development for Zhù Ying.

In the end, Zheng Xi resolved that once he settled into the Eastern Palace, he would arrange to have Zhù Ying transferred there as well. He recalled that the Vice Chamberlain’s position in the Chamberlain’s Office was the first rank, full grade — just right for promoting Zhù Ying. They wouldn’t allow her at the fifth rank, upper grade, but surely they could accept the first rank, full grade? The Council of State this time would have no grounds to refuse.

Before handling this matter, Zheng Xi still had to offer his thanks, pay his respects to the Eastern Palace, host a banquet to celebrate, and attend the Eastern Palace’s welcoming banquet held in his honor. On the Court of Judicial Review side, Pei Qing also asked Zhù Ying to arrange a farewell banquet.

After attending to all of this, the new year was nearly upon them. Before busying himself with the Eastern Palace’s new year preparations, Zheng Xi first settled himself in the Chamberlain’s Office and ordered the staff rosters to be brought out, so he could familiarize himself with everyone.

He already had a bad feeling about this.

When the rosters arrived and Zheng Xi looked through them, he nearly choked. He asked quietly, “Is everyone accounted for here?”

The Junior Grand Chamberlain answered, “Yes.”

Zheng Xi thought to himself: Well, this is retribution!

He had filled the Court of Judicial Review to capacity. Now, whoever that wretched soul was, they had done the same to the Eastern Palace. If he wanted to bring his own people in, he would first have to kick out someone on this roster. One out, one in.

Zheng Xi decided to first observe and take stock, then have conversations with both the Crown Prince and the Emperor, before making any personnel adjustments. He at least needed to know which of these people had been placed by the Emperor, which were used comfortably by the Crown Prince, and which could be removed.

He waited, and then disaster struck.

Li Ze, at year’s end, submitted a memorial arguing that many of the young officials in the capital were self-styled dandies with nothing to do, to the point of picking fights and causing incidents — behavior that was both undignified and harmful to themselves. It would be better, after the new year, to select promising young men from among capital officials under thirty and send them out to serve as local officials governing the people directly. This would both remove many troubles from the capital and temper a pool of talent for the state’s future use.

He submitted this memorial with sound reasoning and evidence — Jingzhao had seen yet another case of young officials brawling. The capital’s current public order was not worth mentioning: young men who fell out over a quarrel, or competed for a woman’s favor, or got into fights in the street over other reasons, were all par for the course. The Jingzhao prefect sometimes ignored it; the censors would then use these incidents as material for criticism.

Li Ze, seeing the moment right, submitted exactly this memorial.