Su Yuan was intensely curious about the “character-learning song” and the “literacy stele.”

She looked toward the literacy stele. A few people were gathered before it — some were reading it aloud, while others glanced at it briefly and walked away. She pressed forward, and on the stele she could make out more than half the characters. The few she didn’t recognize she could partially guess from context. She thought: It’s not that hard, is it?

She stood and looked at it for a while, then suddenly let out a sigh, a touch of sorrow settling in her heart.

At last she turned away from the literacy stele and went to see whether the market had any new goods or new developments.

She went around, and found no great changes, nothing particularly striking or novel. But the people at the market, like the people on the streets, all seemed somewhat more at ease and more spirited than before. When a good official is in charge, the ordinary people themselves don’t necessarily notice — but an outside observer can see it clearly.

After touring half the county seat, she went back to the post house. She ate dinner and then went to find her cousin Zhao Su.

Zhao Su was at home reviewing his lessons. He had barely turned two pages before his cousin arrived. He closed the book and received Su Yuan.

The two cousins sat down. Zhao Su first asked Su Yuan, “Did you rest well?”

“I wasn’t tired to begin with.”

Zhao Su asked, “Did you prepare a visiting card?”

Su Yuan said, “Hmm? Is that those things I always see you people passing back and forth?”

The Qixia people had no written script, and so naturally had nothing like visiting cards.

Zhao Su said, “Yes. It is both etiquette and a kind of agreement — a token. Even when a person can’t be seen directly, a visiting card that has been delivered tells the recipient that you came.”

“I know what they’re for. Fine — since I’ve come, I’ll follow the customs here. It’s not unreasonable.” She suddenly laughed. “The territory he governs isn’t any bigger than our family’s, and the people under him aren’t necessarily more than ours.”

Zhao Su felt inwardly uncomfortable. He said, “Managing them well is what matters.”

Su Yuan said quietly, “Yes. What we lack is precisely someone like that. Ah — we don’t even have a writing system.”

Zhao Su had no strong reaction to her use of “we.” It had always been the way of things — one side called him “son of a mountain-peoples woman,” the other whispered behind his back that he was a “frog” — mountain-valley people lived in lowland areas, and lowland areas had frogs, so both sides had people calling him “halfbreed.” When anyone said “we” to him, he was invariably on high alert, because it usually meant someone was trying to draw him in or use him as a pawn. Even his own cousin saying “we” made him instinctively wary. He replied vaguely, “Not having a writing system does cause difficulties.”

Su Yuan shook her head. “More than difficulties — much more than that. I can’t quite put it into words, but I understand the principle. We are so far behind the mountain-valley people. When I learn their language, so many words and phrases I don’t understand — there’s no equivalent in our own language. I only grasp them when I actually encounter the thing they describe. Like a simpleton.”

Zhao Su said, “But you know now, don’t you? Knowing is enough.” His foster father had said before that the people of Fulü County were not less intelligent than anyone else — they simply hadn’t seen the things in question. Now that they had seen them and knew them, the next step was to move forward.

Su Yuan said, “I’ve worried about the question of writing before. We have no writing system of our own. Most people in the settlement don’t need writing, but our family is different — our family manages so much, and the more there is to manage, the more there is to track. Without writing, it’s all held in memory alone, and before long everything gets confused. I thought about creating a writing system myself, but it was too difficult.”

Zhao Su was inwardly surprised. He hadn’t expected Su Yuan to have harbored such an ambitious aspiration. A good idea, he thought — it’s just that your abilities at present truly aren’t up to it.

He said, “Even if you created one, with so few people using it, it would soon disappear.” The ready example was Fulü County itself. Literate people in Fulü County were more than in many places — yet compared to more prosperous regions, both their spoken command of the official tongue and their written command of literary style fell far behind. Use it or lose it — that was the way of things everywhere.

Su Yuan said, “I once thought about borrowing the mountain-valley writing system. But the two languages don’t correspond one-for-one. If I use the mountain-valley characters to mark out sounds, one sound might have several characters that match it, and that’s still a muddle. But abandoning the ancestral language entirely and using only the mountain-valley language and script — that solves the problem, but I can’t bring myself to do it.”

Zhao Su had always known Su Yuan was no ordinary woman. Even so, hearing her express these ideas made him look at his cousin with a slightly new appreciation. But he quickly pulled himself back. “None of this is something that can be done in a short time. Getting yourself worked up over it does you no good right now. Better to handle the matter at hand first, one thing at a time.”

Su Yuan said, “I came to find you precisely about the matter at hand. Tell me — what sort of person is this county magistrate?”

She asked the question with her eyes fixed steadily on Zhao Su. Even though she’d spent some time at the Zhao family estate and exchanged letters and heard her aunt’s descriptions, she still wanted to ask Zhao Su face to face. Writing had a thousand advantages, but nothing compared to being face to face — you could sense the other person’s feelings. Face to face, there was no time to conceal things.

Zhao Su looked at her too. He said, “What exactly are you asking?”

“Anything at all.”

Zhao Su said, “You’ve already met her.”

Su Yuan said, “I know — I want to understand whether she can actually be trusted.”

Zhao Su said, “What counts as trustworthy? Are your own brothers trustworthy?”

Su Yuan lost her bright smile. “Yes — everyone has the parts of them that are trustworthy and the parts that aren’t. My brothers are family, but their ability can’t be trusted. This one — her ability can be trusted, but she’s not family.”

Zhao Su asked, “Are you trustworthy? Are you a trustworthy person from my foster father’s perspective?”

Su Yuan asked seriously, “Is that you asking, or are you asking on her behalf?”

Zhao Su said, “Is there a difference? I can’t see through her — but she is absolutely not someone anyone can manipulate. You and your uncle living up there on the mountain can look down and comment on the people below — but don’t think that living at a higher elevation makes you superior.”

Su Yuan said, “Why are you suddenly angry?”

“Telling the truth is being angry?”

“Fine — neither of us is angry. She can help us, and I have no ill will toward her. I simply want to know more about her before negotiations, so I can prepare properly.”

Zhao Su’s loyalties lay somewhat more toward his father’s side. He wasn’t without feeling toward his mother’s side either, but when his cousin spoke of “us” to him this way, he once again felt an involuntary aversion, and had no desire to favor his cousin. “Are you planning a major transaction this time? If not, one completed deal will tell you a great deal about a person’s character. Didn’t the last transaction go quite smoothly?”

Su Yuan, seeing she could get nothing more out of him, thought: This trip is partly another test anyway. Cousin really has grown up on the mountain-valley side…

She didn’t know that Zhao Su was well aware that both sides wanted to extract information about the other from him, and that Zhù Ying had even asked him to write things down. Given his awkward position, he had long since grown accustomed to it. But the two sides differed in approach. Zhù Ying could offer him more, and what she asked him to write carried some element of “giving the Qixia people their due credit” — there was a degree of sincerity in it. His cousin’s words contained no such element; she asked only about his foster father’s situation, without mentioning anything she might offer in return.

Not that he was unaware that if Zhù Ying succeeded in “pacifying the mountain peoples,” it would be enormously beneficial to her career. Still — she did things with style, and it didn’t feel like an act.

He admired Zhù Ying’s approach more.

Su Yuan smiled. “All right, you’re right. I’ll see her character through the transaction. Last time we had uncle and you as intermediaries; this time it’s me alone. You said — the visiting card — how do you write it?”

The next day, Zhù Ying received Su Yuan’s visiting card. Zhao Su had written it on Su Yuan’s behalf, but it was Su Yuan who sent someone to deliver it.

The emissary delivered the card and asked when Su Yuan might be able to see Zhù Ying — Su Yuan wished to discuss the transaction details in person.

Zhù Ying sent someone back to the post house with a reply: “Any time Su Niangzi is ready in the next couple of days will do. The details can be discussed in person.”

That very afternoon, Su Yuan came to the county yamen. Zhao Su was still in class at the county school, and there was no need for a translator between the two of them. On Zhù Ying’s side were Administrator Guan, Chief Registrar Mo, and others. Su Yuan brought her own attendants.

At this point, Su Yuan introduced her attendants to Zhù Ying. She waved her hand toward a middle-aged man. “This is someone my father trusts… hmm, a helper?”

Zhù Ying helpfully supplied: “An aide? A counselor?”

Su Yuan said, “Yes. His name, in your language, means ‘tree.'”

The man was not particularly imposing, but he had a certain sharpness about him. He also wore the embroidered clothing of the Qixia people, and could speak a little of Fulü’s local dialect. He greeted Zhù Ying in the local dialect, which visibly relieved Administrator Guan and the others — they had been afraid they might not understand a word.

Zhù Ying said, “If you can understand us, then wonderful. Please, be seated.”

Host and guest settled in. On Zhù Ying’s behalf, Administrator Guan first said, “May we ask what brings you here today, Niangzi, and what guidance you have to offer?”

On Su Yuan’s side, the man referred to as “Brother Tree” replied for her: “The county magistrate and our chieftain agreed to a trade.”

The two of them opened the discussion, and then Su Yuan said, “We already have the outline — so let’s talk about how to carry out the trade.”

Zhù Ying said, “There are a few points I need to make clear to Su Niangzi. What Su Niangzi decides must still be reported to her father. What I settle here must also be reported to the court. Agreed? Su Niangzi should already know, if she’s conducted this kind of trade before — whether it’s salt, iron, or grain, the court does not permit unrestricted transactions.”

Su Yuan said, “That’s right.”

Zhù Ying said, “If I report this to the court, I need to explain your clan’s situation to them — your clan’s name, your history and origins, your approximate population, and your father’s name. Give me a rough figure for your population — don’t overstate it. If you overstate by too much, this matter will no longer be under my jurisdiction, and you’ll have to start over negotiating with the prefecture and the circuit. You know better than I do how easy they are to deal with.”

Su Yuan listened carefully and frowned. “You want to know everything?”

Zhù Ying said, “Not everything — knowing too much would frighten people away.”

Su Yuan laughed, exchanged a glance with “Brother Tree,” and said to Zhù Ying, “All right.”

Zhù Ying said, “I don’t know much about your situation — you provide it, and I’ll report it. A fast courier to the capital takes about half a month for a reply.”

Su Yuan said, “How much can you trade?”

“How much do you want? And at what price?”

Su Yuan said, “Whatever is a mountain product will do. We have oxen and horses, timber, tea — and you people frequently come up the mountain to gather medicinal herbs. You can tell me what you need, and I’ll see if we have it. In return, I want only salt, iron, and grain.”

Zhù Ying called Qi Tai over, and Su Yuan called “Brother Tree” forward. The two of them began to haggle. Qi Tai was a man with no skill for social interaction at all — he simply bit down on the floor price and wouldn’t budge, which so infuriated “Brother Tree” that he began cursing in the Qixia language. Qi Tai couldn’t understand a word. Zhù Ying listened inwardly amused.

In the end, the arrangement was: Su Yuan’s side would have Zhao Su write up a brief account of the situation, and Zhù Ying’s side would report the agreed terms to the Grand Secretariat; then the two sides would proceed with the trade. Fulü County produced neither iron ore nor salt, so Zhù Ying was acting as a middleman — which meant she needed to get authorization.

This transaction was to be a one-time deal.

Zhù Ying then summoned Zhao Su. “You two know each other — I don’t need to make introductions. There’s one thing I’d like to ask of you. Write a petition on your maternal uncle’s behalf, describing the clan’s situation in detail and stating what is being requested.”

Su Yuan also said, “Cousin, I don’t know how to write that sort of thing. Please help.”

Zhao Su had long since prepared the information about the Qixia people — but had been conflicted about it, feeling in some vague way as if he were a traitor to his maternal uncle’s family. He’d hesitated and hadn’t yet submitted it.

Seeing his cousin here now, making clear that both sides were in agreement, he felt no more psychological burden.

Zhao Su had the draft ready in his head. He wrote it out on the spot in one brush, and presented it to Zhù Ying. Zhù Ying picked it up and said, “Let me revise this.”

Zhao Su quickly asked, “How should it be changed?”

Zhù Ying pointed through the text as she spoke. “Here — the opening needs to reverently address His Majesty. Here — you need to state clearly that the Asu family over the past twenty years has been on good terms with the court and has turned toward the influence of civilization. And here — write that the iron implements are needed first to learn how to cultivate the fields, and second to defend the home settlement, because there are many other clans in the surrounding area that have not submitted and will periodically raid the Asu family. For the population headcount, if it’s not precise, don’t report this many — here, and finally, the end needs to bear your uncle’s name.”

She went through it one by one, told him to revise it. The thrust of the revisions was: elevate the Emperor properly and pay him due respect, and then make clear that the clan had absolutely no ill intentions toward the court — that they revered the court, needed the court, and desired good relations with the court.

What had started as a brief account of the situation became, in Zhù Ying’s hands, a full formal petition — which could equally be read as a document from the “mountain peoples” expressing goodwill toward the court, with implicit hints toward submission. This was the first time the court had received a submission from the “mountain peoples” since the tribal uprising years before.

When all the revisions were done, Zhù Ying wrote her own official document, which she bundled together with the petition and sent to the capital.

When the Grand Secretariat received Zhù Ying’s official document, the clerk who handled it took one look at “Fulü County” and poked the person beside him with a grin. “Here it is again!”

The one beside him said, “What ‘here it is’? You and your antics — look, you’ve smudged my perfectly good calligraphy.”

“Just rewrite it! Look — Fulü County again! Ha ha ha, this is going to be good!”

“Those two really are something — what a pair of thorns,” another clerk laughed.

Just a few days prior, news of another one of Duan Ying’s exploits had arrived in the capital. He’d managed his territory reasonably well; that spring he’d also helped the garrison troops repel a cavalry raid on the border, which counted as a genuine military achievement.

The two clerks nudged each other meaningfully, placed the document on top of a stack of papers in the spot where Wang Yunhe would see it immediately upon returning, and then settled in to enjoy the show.

Wang Yunhe returned from court, picked up the document, and at the sight of the three characters “Fulü County,” he smiled too. He opened it unhurriedly and read carefully, then suddenly sighed. “This was done with real care.”

Chen Luan was gradually fading from the scene — it was just a matter of his son being recalled to the capital and promoted one grade before he himself would retire. He wasn’t in any hurry to ask what the matter was. Shi Kun asked first, “Who?”

Wang Yunhe said, “Fulü County.”

“Oh! Her!” Shi Kun said. “She’s always been a careful one. What has she done now?”

“The mountain peoples.” Wang Yunhe said.

Shi Kun thought for a moment, then asked in alarm, “What? What did she do to the mountain peoples?”

Chen Luan, hearing “Fulü County,” drifted over. “What happened?”

From what both of them knew of Zhù Ying, there was bound to be some incident or other around her. Decades ago, when the tribal leader had been burned to death, it had caused enormous trouble, and the man who’d caused it had been ambitious enough. They were afraid Zhù Ying might set off something even bigger.

Anxiously, the two of them took the document and read — only to find it was an application for authorization to trade with a clan called “the Qixia.”

“The Qixia? What is that? Where did they come from?” Chen Luan said.

Wang Yunhe produced the accompanying documents enclosed with the official report — two pieces in total. The first was the “petition,” written in the chieftain’s voice, requesting authorization to trade for some salt and iron.

The petition contained a self-description of the Qixia clan’s circumstances. The name “Qixia” meant “beautiful jade,” and there was also a clan called “the Valiant,” and others. The Qixia were divided among several clan leaders; the current one was of the Asu family. The “mountain peoples” occupied a vast swath of territory that, by rough estimates, amounted to about two circuits worth of area. However, much of it was mountainous and the roads were precipitous and difficult to travel. The court had never been able to penetrate deeply enough to produce accurate maps. The Qixia clan alone had a substantial population — estimated at over ten thousand households. The Asu family commanded four to five thousand households. Other clans varied, with the large ones numbering over ten thousand households and the smallest just a few hundred.

The second document was Zhù Ying’s own. Zhù Ying wrote that she was currently in contact with the Asu family, and that they had a certain need she was applying to address: specifically, the exchange of oxen and horses. Fulü County lacked draft animals for farming. That spring, she had only managed to provide draft animals to the poorer households by renting and redistributing them from wealthy households. She also wrote that there had already been one prior transaction with the Asu family — namely, the rental of their oxen and horses — and that both sides had found the other to be reliable. She noted that the Qixia clan had no writing system, so its population records were imprecise, and the figures given were approximate, based on extensive inquiries on her part.

She further wrote that the petition from the Asu clan leader was written by the clan leader’s nephew, who had been a student at the county school for one year.

The three men of the Grand Secretariat were both astonished and delighted, and all burst out laughing. “Ha ha ha ha! This really is a worthy investment — sending these young people out from the capital.”

Chen Luan pointed at the transaction quantities requested in the petition and said, “This amount is admirably modest.”

When the tribal peoples wanted things, they usually had no specific quantity in mind; sometimes they deliberately asked for too much and left room to bargain. Others simply demanded as much as they could get — better to stockpile it and resell. The court was not always a soft touch; some commodities were under very specific restrictions. Here, the iron was initially only three hundred jin, the salt one hundred loads, and the grain one thousand shi — and moreover they were not simply asking for gifts, but proposing a trade, primarily seeking authorization to “engage in salt-and-iron commerce,” offering oxen, horses, tea, and timber in exchange.

Wang Yunhe said, “I hadn’t expected her to accomplish this.” He had originally only hoped Zhù Ying would develop her capacity to govern a locality. He hadn’t thought much about what she might achieve with foreign peoples. He could see that Zhù Ying’s strong suit lay in practical administration, which was why he’d assigned her a remote county to govern. He hadn’t expected Zhù Ying to be this meticulous even when it came to the “mountain peoples.” Of course the court knew the “mountain peoples” were not a monolithic group; but broken down by clan, by family, their languages, the extent of their territories, and especially their population figures — the data had always been unclear. What Zhù Ying had reported was still rough, but it provided at least a coarse foundation of data for “governance.”

By Wang Yunhe’s estimate, Zhù Ying still had a second move ready — just as she had when she was at the Court of Judicial Review: once she’d gotten a solid read on the situation, she’d act. And how smoothly things had run at the Court of Judicial Review under her hand! Wang Yunhe felt a pang of nostalgia for his days overseeing the capital prefecture — back then, the Court of Judicial Review had been more cooperative with him than it was now.

Shi Kun offered a reflective remark: “A capable person is capable wherever she goes.”

Chen Luan said, “Report it to His Majesty.”

Shi Kun said, “Let’s do that.”

The Emperor was getting on in years and was at the point of preferring good news over bad. Wang Yunhe presented the report, and the Emperor listened with interest and asked, “Is this the ‘mountain peoples’ business? Is this the Fulü County that offered the white pheasant?”

Wang Yunhe said, “Yes.”

The Emperor then pointed to a passage in Zhù Ying’s official document. “The tribal leader’s nephew is also a student now?”

“Yes.”

The Emperor was very pleased, and then asked, “Is the population figure accurate?”

Wang Yunhe said, “Based on thirty-year-old archived records — at that time, the circuit inspector’s report, though imprecise, also noted that the various clans among the mountain peoples ranged from a few hundred to ten thousand households. With decades of population growth, the figure is not implausible.”

The Emperor said, “Very good.”

The requested transaction quantities were not large, and so he approved it, adding, “Zhù Ying? She’s good. It really does seem that young people should spend more time outside doing practical work.”

Wang Yunhe said, “The young are easily embarrassed. She’s done quite a lot but won’t speak of it herself.”

“Oh?”

Wang Yunhe said, “I heard Liu Songnian cursing about it at home the other day.”

“What does it have to do with Liu Songnian?”

Wang Yunhe said, “I cannot say — please ask Liu Songnian yourself, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor’s curiosity was piqued. He summoned Liu Songnian.

Liu Songnian had been at home puzzling over a new essay. Zhù Ying had carefully packaged stone rubbings of all sixteen panels of the literacy stele inscription and sent them to him, along with a piece she’d written praising him. Liu Songnian had cursed loudly: “I never wrote this! I never wrote this! A promise-breaker — little wretch!” But in his heart he was secretly pleased. The stele had actually been erected! Even the greatest literary figures are not immune to the vanities of ordinary people. And looking at the rubbings, the carving was quite decent — it didn’t insult his writing. As for Zhù Ying’s essay, Liu Songnian felt the prose was what it was. But between the lines, it was explicitly needling him while covertly praising him — Liu Songnian was a man who did good without seeking fame, who only cared about educating the people in remote places. The flattery was so skillfully done that Liu Songnian didn’t even recognize it as flattery, and was composing an essay to give the promise-breaking little wretch a thorough scolding.

When summoned by the Emperor, he was puzzled: what does he want? Surely not asking me to flatter him again?

Liu Songnian began mentally drafting a flowery panegyric to the Emperor.

One such fulsome composition fully prepared in his mind, he arrived before the Emperor.

After the prostrations, the Emperor said, “Please rise, Academician Liu — there’s something I want to ask you.”

At this point Wang Yunhe and the others had finished their business and slipped away, leaving only Liu Songnian, completely baffled, wondering if something major had happened. He asked, “What matter requires Your Majesty’s inquiry?”

The Emperor asked, “How did Zhù Ying offend you?”

Liu Songnian leapt up. “It must be Wang Yunhe talking again!”

The Emperor laughed and asked, “What exactly happened?”

He had done nothing he was ashamed of, and Liu Songnian didn’t fear saying it — but he still had to first insist: “There’s nothing to it! Nothing to it!”

After the Emperor pressed him again, he said huffily, “I’ve been tricked by that little so-and-so again!” and explained the literacy stele situation, adding that he’d explicitly told Zhù Ying not to say the text was his, and she’d gone and written an essay to deliberately vex him.

The Emperor asked, “What literacy stele inscription?”

Liu Songnian produced his draft and showed the Emperor: “Written on a whim — barely worth looking at. You look it over, Your Majesty, and I’ll go settle accounts with Wang Yunhe.”

The Emperor said, “Wait!”

The Emperor was of some age and liked to hear good news and lively things, but his mind was far from muddled. The first panel was densely packed with praise for him, which made him very well-disposed toward Liu Songnian. The subsequent panels were all very accessible content, but the essential common knowledge was all there, and they rhymed. The Emperor said, “You put considerable effort into this. But this part… isn’t it a bit eclectic? There’s even arithmetic? And there’s legal content? Making the people litigious is no virtue.”

Liu Songnian said, “She wrote me a letter with a rather pitiable tone. She was crouching by the roadside watching a farmer sell tangerines, and the man couldn’t even count properly. So I added that panel. And as for the country folk being ignorant of the court’s laws — they should at least know them.”

The Emperor had a question; Liu Songnian answered it right off the top of his head. The Emperor said, “You are all very dedicated. And that essay — let me see it.”

Liu Songnian was surprised — an Emperor couldn’t really be this attentive to a county magistrate, could he? He produced it anyway. The Emperor saw that Zhù Ying’s prose was not particularly ornate, but it was light and playful, and conveyed a real familiarity with Liu Songnian. He asked, “When did you become so close to her?”

Liu Songnian said, “Since when have we been close? It’s only that I’ve grown tired of people putting on a literary airs in front of me, hoping I’ll write a favorable word for them. She doesn’t perform for me, so I don’t have to perform for her either.”

The Emperor said, “Not also because she can endure your scolding?”

Liu Songnian kept a perfectly composed face, tucked his rubbing under his arm, and left. The Emperor called after him, “Petty man!” Liu Songnian didn’t turn his head, leaving the Emperor with a graceful and carefree departing figure, then rode off at full gallop to settle accounts with Wang Yunhe.

Zhù Ying had no idea this entire scene was playing out in the capital. She hadn’t actually intended for the literacy stele business to be noticed this early. The matter of the Asu family was already enough for now; she preferred to let the stele story travel to the capital slowly — at least until the people of Fulü County had learned to sing the accompanying songs.

The capital’s reply had not yet come. The trade could not proceed without authorization, so she was now busy with another matter — escorting the county students who wished to try for the prefectural academy to the prefectural capital.

The prefectural capital was not too far from the Fulü County seat; even by cart, traveling at a good pace, the trip could be done with one night’s rest along the way. On horseback, Zhù Ying’s riding ability meant she could make it in a day. But most of the people in Fulü County had never been to the prefectural capital in their lives, and Zhù Ying also had other intentions — so she decided to escort them in person and arranged for the county yamen to provide several horse-drawn carts, sparing any impoverished student like Zhen Qi from having to make the journey on foot.

At this point, the capital’s reply had not yet come down. She asked Su Yuan to wait at the post house in the meantime, and had Huajie accompany Su Yuan around the county seat. Having her own elder sister accompany the chieftain’s daughter on a stroll was not a lack of hospitality.

She first sent Xiao Wu to Master Wan the blacksmith’s to pick something up. Xiao Wu had no idea what, but went all the same. Master Wan the blacksmith, when Xiao Wu came for the items, said, “I have no idea what the lord intends with these. Anyway, it’s all here.” He handed Xiao Wu a piece of worn cloth bundled around something that clinked and jangled.

Xiao Wu received it and brought it to the county yamen, but Zhù Ying was not in.

Zhù Ying had gone to the county school to look over the list of names. The head teacher and assistant instructor had finally put together a list of students wishing to try for the prefectural academy, wearing expressions of great sorrow. Zhù Ying opened the list and found that the very first name was Zhen Qi.

Zhen Qi was the most hardworking student in the entire county school, and his abilities were also solid — he consistently took the top rank. He should manage to be selected for the prefectural academy. Beyond him, there were a few others from the county school with reasonably good records, though their chances at the prefectural capital would be uncertain. Additionally, some scholars not enrolled in the county school had also applied to go — Zhù Ying brought them all along.

She took the list and said, “Since you’re going to try, put your hearts into it. Pack your things — we set out tomorrow. Transportation costs are not your concern. Whatever the result, I’ll bring everyone back.” The students all smiled. Some were indifferent about the outcome; Zhen Qi looked visibly anxious.

The moment she left, he slipped out of the county school, saying he was going home to pack.

He’d barely stepped out of the county school gate when he heard a familiar voice asking, “My lord, are we allowed to go to the prefectural academy?”

Oh no. Zhen Qi’s heart seized. That was his mother.

The last time, when the matter of switching examination tracks had come up, he had been somewhat tempted — nothing else, just poverty. Given his abilities, competing for the advanced examination was genuinely difficult, but switching to a different track would make success much easier. He’d thought too that if the county magistrate dared let them switch tracks, she probably had some arrangement in mind. After all, the county magistrate herself had sat the specialized legal studies examination — perhaps she had connections.

But his mother had refused absolutely and had practically threatened to kill herself over it, saying things like, “Not even the county magistrate has the right to do this to you. If you haven’t the nerve to refuse, I’ll go and tell her myself! Halfway through, you want to change course — it’s never that simple. She gains face for a moment while your whole future is thrown away. This is just hoisting someone up onto a wall and leaving them there. It took everything we have for you to make progress in your studies — I won’t let it ruin your prospects. I’ll go and say so myself! Your real father isn’t from this county, and neither are you — she has no authority over you!”

After that, his mother became watchful as if guarding against a thief, always feeling that the county magistrate was out to harm her son. It had taken Zhen Qi considerable persuasion, with some outright deception mixed in, to keep his mother from going to make a scene at Zhù Ying’s door.

Zhen Qi hurried forward two steps and caught the end of Zhù Ying’s words: “Of course.”

His mother smiled ingratiatingly and explained, “My lord, my humble self is not originally from Fulü County — I came through remarriage. My first husband was from a neighboring county. Zhen Qi is my son by my first husband, not from this county.”

Zhù Ying said, “I see.” The corner of her eye caught Zhen Qi. She sighed and beckoned him over. “Are you going to the prefectural capital on your own, or coming with me?”

Zhen Qi’s face turned crimson. “My lord, I…”

Zhù Ying said, “You’re not a native of this county? Then you shouldn’t have been in Fulü County’s school. Well, no matter — go and try for the prefectural academy.”

His mother kowtowed on the spot. “Thank you, my lord.”

Zhù Ying waved a hand. “Go home and get ready.”

The people accompanying her and the county school staff who had come out to see her off all looked displeased. Though they weren’t enthusiastic about the track-switching business, none of them had taken it to heart particularly. None of them understood Zhen Qi’s mother’s mind and felt only that Zhù Ying had been very good to the county school, and that Zhen Qi’s mother’s behavior was quite rude, and that Zhen Qi’s eagerness to leave for the prefectural academy smacked of ingratitude.

Xiao Wu muttered under his breath, “Little ingrate.”

Zhù Ying said, “Nonsense.”

Xiao Wu gave a small dissatisfied grunt and said no more. Zhù Ying turned to the head teacher and the others. “Go back and get everything ready. Don’t be late setting out tomorrow.”

Back at the county yamen, Zhù Ying then sent Xiao Wu to fetch Elder Zhang. Elder Zhang came without understanding why. He didn’t know about Zhen Qi’s situation, but Zhù Ying remembered that Zhen Qi’s stepfather was a member of Elder Zhang’s clan, and Zhen Qi had been allowed to study using Elder Zhang’s family’s books. She came straight to the point. “Elder Zhang, is Zhen Qi a relative of your family?”

“More or less.”

“His mother says his registered home county is not here, so he is no longer a county school student — that was an oversight on my part.”

“Oh, come now! He was brought in years ago as something of a foster son of the Zhang household — even without changing his surname, we’re the ones who raised him!”

“Let’s not talk about that. The boy is filial. His mother’s wish for her child to have a better future is not wrong either. The thing is, I suspect he would feel too awkward traveling to the prefectural capital alongside me. Please help with his travel expenses.”

Elder Zhang cursed Zhen Qi’s mother inwardly, but agreed out loud, “Yes.”

The next day, Zhù Ying set out with the whole party for the prefectural capital. Zhao Su also traveled along — he didn’t want to go to the prefectural academy, but he was happy to accompany his foster father on the journey.

These days he understood clearly that how well a person performed was also a matter of experience and exposure. Take Zhen Qi’s mother — this woman’s determination that her son follow the proper, well-worn path was not wrong in itself, but the manner in which she’d handled things was unpleasant. He thought of himself, having spent all his years in Fulü County, having seen limited things, and felt he was better served staying close to his foster father, learning from observation.

Zhù Ying made no objection. The two of them rode side by side. The students all rode in the carts; Zhen Qi and his mother had already set out on their own the day before.

Along the way, Zhao Su asked Zhù Ying about various matters, mostly concerning the Asu family. He said, “I wonder what foster father’s plans are for the ‘mountain peoples’?”

Zhù Ying said, “Can’t you see?”

Zhao Su said honestly, “There needs to be some mutual trust before the next step can be taken.”

Zhù Ying said, “You already know. What more is there to ask? As long as you are still a resident of Fulü County, rest easy.”

“I…”

“Mm? Do you have other ideas? If you do, say so now. If you drag this out, that’s what will actually make me angry.”

Zhao Su shook his head. “I don’t.” He did have some thoughts — his family stood to gain as intermediaries between both sides, and he wasn’t afraid of change, but he hoped the change would be to his advantage.

The next day, the party reached the prefectural capital. The prefectural capital was much more prosperous than the county seat. Zhù Ying first settled the students at the post house, then went to pay her respects to her superior, who was conveniently unwell by all the usual conventions.

Today the superior was not unwell. Seeing her arrive, he smiled. “A rare visitor.”

Zhù Ying said frankly, “I wouldn’t dare impose — I’ve brought you people.”

The superior said, “What sort of people?”

Zhù Ying said, “Students, of course. Please help yourself to the pick of them.”

She and the superior didn’t have any particularly close relationship, but considering that every year she served as the one to butt heads with Circuit Intendant Lu over the grain delivery, he was rather attentive, saying, “You’re willing to let them go?”

Zhù Ying said, “Fulü County hasn’t produced any exceptional talents in many years. Having them placed at the prefectural academy is far more reassuring.”

The two of them laughed.

On the day of the examination, Zhù Ying personally escorted the students to the examination hall entrance. The students were all very moved. Zhù Ying brought out a small cloth pouch and said, “Come, one for each of you — it doesn’t count as cheating.”

As the students extended their hands they asked, “What is this?”

“Fortune.” Zhù Ying smiled, and held up a little tangerine made of pressed tin. On one side the word “Fulü” was engraved in two characters — the words for good fortune and good salary — and on the other, the character “fortune.”

This was something she’d had Master Wan the blacksmith make — it had cost considerable effort. Each person received one. On each tangerine there was a small stem with a little leaf; the leaf extended outward in a way that could hold a writing brush, so it could pass as a writing implement. The examinees all accepted them with smiles. Zhù Ying said, “Study well and do your best.”

She turned and spotted a slight, slight figure. Zhù Ying said, “Zhen Qi?”

Zhen Qi stopped. Beside him was his mother, there to see him off, watching Zhù Ying with great anxiety. Zhù Ying also pressed a small tin tangerine into his hand. “Everyone gets one — this is yours. Your learning is more than sufficient to get you into the prefectural academy.”

Zhen Qi clutched the tangerine, tears coming to his eyes, his voice catching. “My lord.”

Zhù Ying said, “Go on. Don’t let people say Fulü County’s school is worthless and that the students it produces can’t pass into the prefectural academy.”

“Yes.”

Zhù Ying didn’t wait outside either. She and Zhao Su wandered around the prefectural capital on their own. It hadn’t changed much from her last visit. Zhao Su had been here too, but his memory was less clear than hers. While the students sat their examinations, Zhù Ying strolled the streets. A few days later, the examinations were over and the results came out. Zhen Qi was selected — but his rank was actually lower than another Fulü County student.

That student hadn’t expected to be selected at all, and was now in a panic. “I — I only came to test the waters.”

Zhù Ying said, “You tested them and came out on top — go and attend.”

She watched as everyone crowded around this student offering congratulations while no one went to Zhen Qi. She quietly had someone send Zhen Qi a string of cash for travel expenses.

Gu Tong was also among those who had come to “test the waters.” He said under his breath, “Traitor.”

Zhù Ying said, “How is he a traitor? Didn’t everyone come to sit the examination?”

Gu Tong still had a bit of a young master’s temperament and said, “It’s just not right.”

Zhù Ying said, “All right, don’t sulk. You’ll all go your separate ways from here anyway. I’ve got real business to attend to. Time to head back.”

Gu Tong asked, “Is it about this?” He held up the small tangerine as he asked — as someone of the Gu family, he knew something of the situation.

Zhù Ying said, “No!” She neatly plucked the small tangerine from his hand as she walked away. Gu Tong chased after her jumping with indignation. “My lord, you gave that to me — you can’t take it back. I have a feeling that holding a tangerine from our county will definitely bring good luck!”

Zhù Ying and the party made their way back from the prefectural capital to the county seat, and the capital’s reply had by then arrived. Not only was the trade she and the chieftain had requested approved, but the quantities applied for were also granted in full with no reduction.

Zhù Ying sent someone to the post house to invite Su Yuan to the county yamen and informed her that the trade could proceed.

Su Yuan’s side wasted no time either. “Our goods have been ready for a while — when can the trade happen? Can we place orders for some things right here in the county seat? I’ve seen there’s a blacksmith’s shop in the county town, and also a grain store. The salt can come a little later. Our oxen and horses can be brought over immediately; for timber it takes more effort to transport.”

Zhù Ying said, “Fine.”

Su Yuan first selected some farming implements, and then also asked for some weapons. Zhù Ying followed the court’s regulations — arrowheads and the like she could provide, but she would not sell Su Yuan a crossbow. Su Yuan didn’t press the point much; what she wanted most were long swords.

Within a few days, the exchange was completed.

Su Yuan personally supervised to the end, just as Zhù Ying had done on the previous occasion, and when the last horse was received on Zhù Ying’s side, Su Yuan said, “Good. You are a fair and trustworthy person.”

Zhù Ying asked, “Then — can we exchange bondservants?”

Su Yuan hadn’t expected this, but didn’t refuse outright. Instead she asked, “How would the exchange work?”

“One for one. If you can decide now, we can settle the terms on the spot. If you need to consult your father, please relay the message to him — I’ll wait for his reply.” Zhù Ying said plainly.

This deal was actually the less advantageous side for her — she had no mountain-peoples bondservants in her possession, and would have to buy them out from the gentry at market price. The wealthier a place, the more expensive. Fortunately, Fulü County had been running a surplus since last year; otherwise she truly couldn’t have found the money.

Su Yuan nodded. “I can agree to it.” She also had to pay out of her own purse. Granted, the people with the most slaves up in the mountain were her own family — but not all the abducted bondservants were in her family’s hands. She would also have to pay a price and persuade others, which meant coming under considerable pressure. She was fairly certain her brothers would not be very agreeable.

“Brother Tree” instinctively wanted to stop her, then held himself back.

Zhù Ying asked, “What is it?”

Su Yuan said, “Nothing. It’s settled. Shall we proceed the same way as the last trade?”

“Fine. I already have a count on my side.”

“Good. Let me get this batch of grain transported home, and then I’ll return.”

“I’ll await your good news.”