Zheng Xi would not explain himself on every matter. Zhù Ying could only work with a single line of text and begin to prepare. She picked up her brush and wrote a reply to Zheng Xi, and then wrote a letter to Leng Yun. In the letter to Leng Yun, she wrote as if unaware he was coming — in the easy, familiar tone of their old acquaintance — sharing some “amusing stories” from serving in a provincial posting, pointing out certain pitfalls in outer postings, “I wish I had prepared this or that back then,” with a tone that between the lines conveyed: please prepare yourself properly.

After finishing the letter, she called Gu Tong. “Go and find out whether the representatives of each area’s common halls have all arrived. We should start making preparations. Let’s hope everyone can get themselves ready.”

……

“I won’t!” Leng Yun refused with absolute finality.

“What then — go back to wait on that superior of yours? You can manage him?” Leng Hou said.

Leng Yun choked, then argued back, “Can’t I just transfer to a different department? Does it have to be an outer posting? I’m not short of money!”

Leng Hou was exasperated enough to curse. “You think you can just go wherever you please? I hand you over to Zheng Xi, and you learn nothing from him. I hand you to Dou the Chief Justice, and he wants to put you to real use — you dodge and shirk and won’t get anything done! What else can I do with you? Can’t you use that brain of yours at least once? Oh, that’s right — you don’t have one. You’re nearly forty years old — are you still going to throw a tantrum?”

Leng Yun gave a casual laugh. “No matter how wilful I am, I still follow the court’s commands and obey the Emperor’s orders. Unlike you, Father, arranging the appointments of court officials — so which of us is truly being wilful?”

Father and son were at each other’s throats. Leng Furen had no choice but to be summoned to intervene. “Would the two of you each hold your tongue for a moment! You too — the child is nearly forty, and you didn’t even think to discuss it with him first before arranging everything. And you — how can you speak back to your father like that?!”

Leng Furen’s even-handed scolding of both husband and son persuaded neither. Leng Yun was afraid of neither his father nor his mother, and immediately jumped up. “I’m going to find Grandmother!”

Leng Hou said coolly, “Let him go. I want to see how old he is, still running to tell tales.”

Leng Yun leaped up and called for someone to ready his horse, then galloped off to find his maternal grandmother. Like Zheng Xi, his grandfather had passed and his grandmother was still living, looked after by his uncle. He arrived at his uncle’s house, and the gate staff all smiled and said, “Young Lord is here!”

Leng Yun said, “My son is nearly grown — and you’re still calling me Young Lord?”

The household laughed amongst themselves. Leng Yun had been welcomed warmly by everyone in his maternal family since he was small — “Young Lord” had been called all the way to his late thirties. His own protests against being called young had done nothing. He argued with himself all the way to his grandmother, then threw himself toward her without hesitation. “Grandmother, save me!”

Leng Yun’s grandmother looked at her grandson in surprise. “What is it? Did that superior of yours torment you again? I knew it! I just knew it!”

Leng Yun pressed his advantage. “Grandmother, Father wants to send me out of the capital on a posting, and I don’t want to go! Grandmother, please, take pity on me and put in a word. Let me transfer to another department. I’ll still be a Deputy Chief Justice or something — I promise I won’t cause trouble! There’s no place in the world better than the capital!”

Leng Yun’s maternal grandmother was a woman of some standing in her own right — a Princess of the imperial clan, and of a generation senior even to Zheng Xi’s mother. Zheng Xi’s mother was required to address Leng Yun’s grandmother as “Honored Aunt.” Their kinship was somewhat distant, however, with so many closer relatives on all sides that this connection was rarely invoked in ordinary times.

The Old Princess had not been a frequent visitor to the palace in earlier years. In recent times, as the older generation had one by one passed from the world, those who still lived had come to cherish one another more, and the Old Princess found she carried increasing weight within the palace — requests she made were readily granted.

From what Leng Hou had implied, he had already found Leng Yun a path out of the capital, and arrangements were more or less complete. Yet who, given a choice, would want to leave the capital? Especially a man like him! He had a good posting in the capital, and he wasn’t short of money! Nor did he have any burning desire to build up a record of achievements over the next twenty years to compete for a seat in the Department of State Affairs! He simply wanted to go on living comfortably as he always had.

What place in the world could compare to the capital for liveliness?

He did not want to go.

And so his mind turned to Grandmother — his trump card. No matter what had been previously arranged, if the Emperor issued a word, everything could be managed. And Grandmother now carried weight with the Emperor.

In the midst of his grandson’s earnest, hopeful gaze, the Old Princess tenderly patted his face and said, “You young people don’t understand — we have all arranged this for you. I went to petition the Emperor myself. He has already agreed! Don’t worry — ever since your Pei Deputy Chief Justice left, I could see every day how distressed you were, you and your parents. I wanted to find you something suitable. Your father has already made the arrangements at court.”

Whatever else the Old Princess said next, Leng Yun could no longer hear. His mind was filled with just two words: Done for.

Leng Yun kept at it with soft persuasion and stubborn resistance. “You all got together behind my back to drive me out! I won’t go! Grandmother, I want to stay in the capital and look after you.”

The Old Princess had made up her mind completely. She felt her daughter and son-in-law were right — her grandson needed to go out and experience things. When Leng Yun said “like being exiled,” the Old Princess hesitated for just a moment before recalling what her son-in-law had said beforehand: “Far as it is, a man has to go on a long journey at least once in his life. Do a term in a regional post, then come back — that’s the path any official walks. Going far away makes things seem harder, but come back in two or three years, and you’ll have more room to maneuver. He’s doing this as an Inspector, not garrisoning a border — it won’t be that hard. And when the Emperor asks him about it later, it will be something he can actually talk about, something worth mentioning as a real achievement. He’s a father now — he can’t go on drifting through life without a sense of responsibility!”

Leng Yun left his grandmother’s presence with a long face, having failed to change her mind. He declined dinner at her house and trudged back home, tail between his legs. His household treated him as if he had never gone out at all, cheerfully getting on with the meal — his mother and wife already preparing the traveling kit for his posting. Leng Yun was nearly suffocated by it. He was finally so infuriated that he thought of Zheng Xi, hoping this old superior of his might help him devise some way to remain in the capital.

……

Zhao Su took Zhù Ying’s letters of introduction and made his way with due formality to pay his respects at the Zheng Marquis mansion.

Before the front gate of the Zheng Marquis mansion, a crowd of people sat on long benches in the gatehouse waiting for their audience. Zhao Su smoothed his clothes. He wore the traveling cloak Zhù Ying had given him, which in the capital was not quite outdated, and underneath it, winter clothes he had bought ready-made from a clothing shop.

Only upon arriving in the capital did he realize that everything about him carried traces of “the southern frontier” — something others could spot with a glance. From his accent to his dress to his accessories to his food preferences and more. From the relay stations on the road approaching the capital, these details had been wearing at him, moment by moment.

Eventually he had thought it through: only change what was glaringly out of place; let everything else go. He abandoned his initial plan to present the white pheasants in person, instead handing them over to Xiao Wu to be submitted through the Department of State Affairs as tribute — and reminding Xiao Wu not to mention that it was he who had brought the pheasants to the capital. The credit was to go to Fuluo County and the Asu family as tribute from them.

After entering the capital, he and Xiao Wu agreed to part ways and each handle their own affairs. Xiao Wu, eager to help, offered to take him around to various households to make introductions. He politely declined, only asking Xiao Wu to take him to Zhù Ying’s house to get his bearings, and to find out if there were any female relatives or the like staying there. Learning there were only an elderly couple, the Caos, looking after the property, he was mildly surprised.

He had brought several servants with him. With only the elderly Caos in the house, moving in gave him rather the feeling of a cuckoo displacing the original occupants. Zhao Su was even more careful about it: he kept himself in the guest rooms of the front courtyard, and his servants stayed in the gatehouse. The elderly Cao couple, straightforwardly and warmly, after some polite back-and-forth had moved themselves to the gatehouse too, leaving the side room of the stable for his servants.

Zhao Su did not rush toward buying a house or property. He simply shut the door and studied. When the examinations came, he went with his papers and identification to register. He sat the examination, was listed among those admitted, and barely scraped in — last among those accepted. He told himself he was fortunate, and quietly cautioned himself not to underestimate scholars from across the land.

Last but still accepted. Only then did he put on his proper clothes, take up his calling card, and make his way to pay respects to Zheng Xi at the Zheng Marquis mansion.

He had been in the capital for some time now. Though he had been applying himself to his studies, Zhao Su was no bookworm. He had gathered some understanding of the capital’s various affairs. He knew the Zheng Marquis mansion was not easy to enter. He had beforehand asked Xiao Wu to show him the way, prepared generous gifts, and had red envelopes ready for the gatehouse staff.

Xiao Wu, watching how Zhao Su first sat the examination before coming to call, thought to himself: The magistrate was right — Sanlang has a mind of his own. I just need to watch him. As long as he doesn’t spoil the magistrate’s affairs, I’ll let him manage as he sees fit.

The gatehouse staff recognized Xiao Wu and accepted their letter of introduction, and on opening it and seeing it was from Zhù Ying, the manager’s expression shifted entirely. He smiled warmly at Xiao Wu. “I remember you! Back again? Are you heading back soon? Why not wait until after the New Year? Is it an urgent errand?”

Xiao Wu said, “It’s not my business this time — it’s this young lord here. He is our magistrate’s adopted son.”

“Is that so! Young Lord!” The manager’s gaze on Zhao Su shifted from the courteous matter-of-factness of dealing with a stranger to something slightly warmer. “How is the Third Master? When did the Young Lord arrive in the capital? Come in, come in, have a seat. A moment — I will go and announce you.”

Zhao Su followed and stepped inside past the rows of officials waiting to be received — all of them watching. He felt, inexplicably, a small private spark of pride.

Zhao Su, before he encountered Zhù Ying, had assumed that officials assigned to a remote county like Fuluo were all unremarkable figures who had gotten their posts through luck, with nothing particularly impressive about them. After meeting Zhù Ying, he had come to feel that there were genuinely capable people in the world. On the road to the capital he had seen plenty of foolish men, and come to feel that someone like his adoptive father was rare indeed, and that he himself was still quite exceptional by comparison.

After finishing last in the examinations, he had reassessed himself, and recognized that someone from a remote background was indeed easy to underestimate.

Back and forth like this, he had by now found his footing. He said to the manager, “I have been here quite some time. I should have come to pay my respects long ago. But to avoid any suggestion of impropriety, I thought it best to wait until after the examination. I did not want suspicion to fall on the magistrate on my account.”

The manager smiled. “The young lord has ambition. Please wait a moment.”

The manager went inside to announce him, and returned before long. “Young Lord, please follow me…”

Before the words were out, a figure flung a horse’s reins aside at the gate, swept through like a gust of wind, and passing them asked in passing, “Is the Seventh Master in?”

The manager hurried to say, “He is. Leng…”

“Fine, I know the way!”

The manager said hastily to Zhao Su, “Young Lord, wait just a moment. That gentleman is Deputy Chief Justice Leng from the Court of Judicial Review, an old acquaintance of our master and of the Third Master. His manner is direct and he enjoys his little jokes. His temper rises fast and fades fast. Let us wait for him to pass.”

Zhao Su said, “Very well.”

The manager, seeing that Zhao Su was also well-mannered, and having taken his red envelope, said quietly, “Young Lord need not be overly nervous. The Third Master has always been on good terms with everyone in the household. And the Seventh Master treats the Third Master differently from others.”

The manager was quietly taking stock of Zhao Su.

Zhao Su knew he was being assessed and simply let himself be observed. From childhood onward, he had been subjected to many evaluating gazes. The capital’s scrutiny was no harder to bear than those from his hometown. He also understood now what Zhù Ying meant by “genuinely wanting to toss you into the capital.” In the capital there was every kind of person — “son of a Ying woman” was hardly any particular novelty.

The manager, seeing that Zhao Su held his composure, thought to himself: Not as immediately likeable as the Third Master, but the same measured calm and the same patience.

Zhao Su simply asked one question: “Is there anything I should be careful to avoid with the master?”

The manager smiled. “The master has always been broad-minded toward people.”

The two exchanged a few slow words. Inside Zheng Xi’s study, meanwhile, it was considerably more animated.

……

Leng Yun was pacing back and forth in the room. Zheng Xi was still as a mountain. At one side, Gan Ze and Lu Chao stood quietly with their hands at their sides.

Leng Yun stopped walking, planted both hands on the desk, and said, “Help me come up with something! I do not want to leave the capital!”

Zheng Xi said without expression, “Is it not good to govern a region? How many people beg for it and never get it.”

“That’s them. I! Won’t! Go!” Leng Yun was very firm. “Things are fine for me here in the capital.”

Zheng Xi watched Leng Yun’s ten-years-unchanged restlessness, and thought to himself: If I could be like him, that would be something.

His fingertips turned the paperweight on the desk. He had known about this matter earlier than Leng Yun — Leng Hou had talked it over with him some time back.

Leng Yun had been serving as Deputy Chief Justice of the Court of Judicial Review. His immediate superior was Chief Justice Dou, a man of considerable ability. Chief Justice Dou handled cases as his strong suit and was thoroughly in his element at the Court of Judicial Review. He was a decent enough person. Leng Yun was not someone who fought for power — unlike Pei Qing, who was also capable and had backing, and between whom and a capable, initiative-taking superior, some friction was inevitable. When things finally came to a head, Pei Qing had gone to serve as Deputy Chief of the Metropolitan Prefecture — technically a promotion. And with Chief Metropolitan Official Wu operating in a laissez-faire manner, Pei Qing as Deputy found it considerably easier to make his mark.

Previously, with Pei Qing ahead of him absorbing attention, Leng Yun went on being his comfortable rich idler. With Pei Qing gone, Leng Yun was the only Deputy Chief Justice left. Leng Hou had pre-empted matters by having a word with Chief Justice Dou, who both wanted to consolidate the Court of Judicial Review and wished to give Leng Yun face as a courtesy to Leng Hou — and so treated Leng Yun somewhat like a nephew to be “developed.” Anyone who genuinely cultivates a person’s talent must have that person do real work and practice real skills.

Leng Yun had been idle his whole life — how could he possibly endure the rigorous guidance of someone like Chief Justice Dou who had real skills? He complained without end every day. Chief Justice Dou was equally baffled — that someone who was a Deputy Chief Justice, nearly forty years old, could not be a conscientious deputy. Unacceptable! Even if not ambitious, he still needed to be competent! Otherwise how could he face Leng Hou?

Chief Justice Dou was personally capable, and set high standards for his deputy. At the Court of Judicial Review now, there was no longer a Pei Qing above to shield him, no Zhù Ying below to manage the thousand trivial details. Leng Yun wished he could take permanent leave of absence from reporting for duty. Many nights he dreamed of waking up to find that Chief Justice Dou had been reassigned.

Leng Yun was idle-natured; his parents were anything but ordinary. The more they watched the boy the more they saw someone who would never advance by his own abilities. Leng Hou made up his mind — while he himself was still alive, he would give this son one more push and see him up the slope. Spending his whole career in the capital in deputy roles, always subject to correction by superiors, was bad enough when the superior was as decent as Chief Justice Dou; if he ended up under some other sharp-tongued one who found fault every day, Leng Yun would be suffering for nothing — and “not fit to be useful” said by a capable superior would send Leng Yun’s reputation straight down to the level of Zhou You, which would be thoroughly unjust.

Out with him! Go to a regional posting! He’ll manage the whole show himself. With a regional posting, the challenge of getting real achievements out of a capable deputy wasn’t easy for an idle superior — a capable deputy could easily make the superior look useless. Old deputies were different — that was why Leng Hou had looked around and settled on Zhù Ying’s situation, where results were already nearly in sight. And it just so happened that Inspector Lu’s term was up.

Leng Hou had thought it all through from every angle, and found his son a posting where he could escape a keen superior’s eye and run his own show, while also having a trusted deputy at hand. In the circuit administration, even if he couldn’t do much, old familiar hands meant nobody would take advantage of him — as long as Zhù Ying gave him a warning here and there, Leng Yun need only sit quietly, avoid meddling in everything, and he could just coast along without being embarrassed!

Over ten years, Leng Hou had encountered Zhù Ying many times, and had a reasonable understanding of her character. He felt that Zhù Ying was consistently decent to “her own people” — sharp-witted but not the type to dig pitfalls for a fool like his son — and so was entirely at ease.

Before arranging all this, Leng Hou had talked it over with Zheng Xi. Zheng Xi’s thinking was this: Zhù Ying was only a county magistrate. Whether the credit went for taming the frontier peoples or for promoting wheat cultivation, neither could be realized on a larger scale without the authority of someone at least at the circuit or prefecture level. The court would absolutely not allow Zhù Ying, a single county magistrate, to take all the credit — whatever the achievement, a superior had to benefit. Better that superior be Leng Yun than someone else.

Given Leng Yun’s personality — neither the patience nor the ability to manage so many things — he would mostly stand aside and let things run. As long as Zhù Ying gave him a nudge or two to keep him from stepping into any pits, that would suffice. Both Leng Yun and Zhù Ying would come away with credit, and before long each would be promoted and return to the capital.

Zheng Xi saw no reason to object, so he had written in advance to Zhù Ying, letting her know so she could prepare. The formal appointment had not yet been issued, so Zheng Xi could not go into detail in the letter — but simply mentioning that the Leng family had that intention was enough. Zhù Ying would make her own preparations.

Granted, the Leng family was not short of money, but who ever turns down more? And regional postings were easier to make money in than the capital — many impoverished capital officials dreamed of being appointed to the regions to line their pockets a little. Leng Hou had even hinted that Zhù Ying could use Leng Yun’s title as Inspector to conduct certain “economic ventures,” trusting entirely in Zhù Ying’s ability to generate income. As for how much of what Zhù Ying accumulated she would give up to Zheng Xi — the Leng family had already tacitly acknowledged that as settled.

The one concern that remained was that the Department of State Affairs knew exactly what sort of person Leng Yun was, and would certainly not let him go and cause harm to a region.

Leng Hou had prepared everything he could think of, and finally brought in his mother-in-law to make the petition. The Emperor’s agreement made everything fall naturally into place. The Department of State Affairs could not override the Emperor’s word.

Leng Hou had arranged things for his son with the most thorough care.

Zheng Xi watched Leng Yun bounding around and said calmly, “I rather envy you.”

“Hm?” Leng Yun looked at him with suspicion. “I’m practically being exiled, and you envy me?”

Zheng Xi withdrew his hand and gave a soft sigh. “I cannot move in any direction anymore, and I very much want to go out and see the world. You need not be anxious — this trip of yours won’t be long before you come back. And it silences their mouths. You won’t have to endure them pestering you day after day.”

Leng Yun was still reluctant and protesting, very unwilling. The capital was brilliant and familiar, everyone he knew was here. He had absolutely no desire to move.

Zheng Xi said, “The Old Princess has already petitioned the Emperor. How can that be undone? If you make a scene, be careful — you might be sent somewhere even worse.”

“Hmph. Could anywhere really be worse?”

“Do you want to find out?”

A chill ran down Leng Yun’s spine. “No — no need!” He changed the subject abruptly. “I’ve noticed the Emperor has been increasingly fond of making things difficult these days. The Crown Prince has been reprimanded several times now — what does His Highness say? Surely he can’t keep having you step in and take the scolding on his behalf every time? My view is — this is a father who just wants to discipline his son. Let the Crown Prince take a few more reprimands, and once the Emperor has vented enough, things will settle down.”

Zheng Xi said, “I am the Counselor. When the Crown Prince errs, I am the first to have erred.” The Crown Prince could not be seen to make mistakes — in the eyes of those watching with ulterior motives, that would give rise to even more preposterous ideas. This couldn’t be allowed to begin. He would rather take the blame himself.

Leng Yun said, “I was foolish to ask. The moment you say it I have a headache. Eh, my situation…”

Zheng Xi said, “Consider it a change of air.”

Leng Yun felt a flicker of sympathy for Zheng Xi and stopped teasing him. He thought to himself: What has he been pushed into? He calls exile a change of air — the Eastern Palace really is a miserable place!

He suddenly felt a small pull toward leaving the capital.

Leng Yun said, “Grandmother has already petitioned the Emperor — if I keep making a fuss, I’m only making things hard for her. Fine, fine. I’ll go tell my father — and just so he knows, I’m only doing this for Grandmother’s sake.”

Zheng Xi said, “That’s sensible. Let the old lady see you in charge of a region, doing her proud.”

Leng Yun gave a cold snort. “You’re all just humoring me!”

Zheng Xi said gravely, “By your father’s skill — can you outmaneuver him? Unless you throw everything away and make a complete spectacle of yourself, abandoning all future prospects, your father’s arrangements can’t be undone. And whatever comes after depends entirely on your own abilities. Someone might still look on you with favor even after such a display and give you a hand — and then from that point on you have no official career and no burdens either, a wealthy man of leisure for the rest of your life. You’re not short of money, are you? Zhou You is not short of money either.”

Leng Yun’s expression went through several shifts. He said, gritting his teeth, “Don’t compare me with him! Is he even worthy?!”

He had arrived like the wind; when he left, he wore the look of someone looking for a fight. Zhao Su, watching, felt somewhat tense.

Zhao Su ran through himself once more, stamped his feet, confirmed that all his joints were moving freely, and followed the manager to the study.

……

Zheng Xi had known long since that Zhao Su had arrived in the capital, and knew where he was staying. Gan Ze had already gone to visit his aunt several times. Zhao Su finishing last by a hair at the examination was also something Zheng Xi knew. He admired young men with a degree of backbone, but only those with ability — Zheng Xi’s standards were high. Zhao Su’s ability, in his estimation, fell slightly short.

Hearing Zhao Su say “impropriety,” Zheng Xi found it quietly amusing: You got into the examination through connections in the first place. There’s no “impropriety” to avoid — you yourself are the impropriety.

But knowing Zhao Su’s background, he did not say anything so bluntly. He said warmly, “Young man — ambition is a good thing. Now that you have passed the examination, have you written home with the good news?”

Zhao Su said, “Not yet.” He had planned to entrust the letter to Xiao Wu when he departed. Only after arriving in the capital did he realize how seamless Zhù Ying’s correspondence with the capital actually was. He would need to piggyback on that.

Zheng Xi said, “You should write home.”

Zhao Su then offered up Zhù Ying’s letter. Zheng Xi accepted and opened it on the spot. It read: This young fellow has a head full of schemes. I don’t know when he’ll get a letter to you, so I’ll go ahead. Handle it as you see fit. If he causes you any displeasure, please take his ten faults and count them as five — for his life was difficult from an early age and he couldn’t help becoming what he is.

Zheng Xi smiled and showed the letter to Zhao Su, then used it as a pretext to inquire about the state of affairs in Fuluo County.

Zhao Su was very careful — for Zhù Ying, he had only good words and no bad ones. For Fuluo County, he first described the hardships of the past and then the changes of the present. For the Asu family, he stuck to the talking points prepared ahead of time — insisting that there had always been a tradition of women serving as heads of the household, and that their oral history songs bore this out. Then, after a pause, he added one more line: “My uncle and adoptive father are sworn brothers. He entrusted his daughter to my adoptive father for instruction in reading.”

Zheng Xi listened, and said with an unhurried air, “He has such a free and easy life — I find myself longing for it. Well, since you’ve finished your examinations, you should give yourself some time to relax. I’ll not keep you. Gan Ze — see him out.”

“Yes.”

Gan Ze walked Zhao Su out of the study without sending him away empty-handed — a small embroidered silk pouch held coins of gold inside. He smiled. “The Seventh Master had this prepared long ago. Imperial New Year gifts — gold and red, not purple and vermilion. That’s a good omen. You too — the Third Master arranged it for you from far away. You should have come sooner.”

He also reminded him: “Young Lord, write the letter soon — the family back home is probably anxious. Xiao Wu is about to set out.”

With the New Year approaching, Xiao Wu would not stay in the capital for it. He wanted to get home — and his father was also pressing him: “How can the magistrate not come back for the holiday and you just take your time enjoying yourself?” So Xiao Wu tucked several letters into his keeping, pressed another load of New Year gifts from the capital, and set out into the teeth of the wind and snow, making his way back to Fuluo County.

Hard as the journey was, Xiao Wu pushed through and arrived back in Fuluo County just as the New Year arrived. By then, Zhù Ying had already learned from the official gazette that Pei Qing had become Deputy Chief of the Metropolitan Prefecture. The gazette made no mention whatsoever of Leng Yun’s appointment.

Zhù Ying unsealed and read through the letters one by one, setting Zhao Su’s letter home to one side. “Someone come — go to the Zhao family and tell A’Jie that Zhao Su has written.”

The way Zhao Su had conducted himself in the capital aligned with the impression of that young man she had formed. Zhù Ying was unsurprised. It seemed Zhao Su was managing his footing in the capital well enough — she could put that matter to rest and devote her full attention to the New Year’s affairs — and on top of everything else, Leng Yun.

A familiar face was considerably easier than a stranger’s. Zhù Ying was still not daring to be complacent, but she trusted that Leng Yun, if he received her letter in time, would have the things she had hinted at in order.