Zhù Lian was excited and nervous in equal measure. He was making every effort not to let his chin lift so high — he needed to appear calm. A boy of seven or eight years old might not understand what lay ahead. A boy of seven or eight who had experienced great hardship, as Zhù Lian had, was already capable of sensing the significance of many things.

He kept hold of Zhù Shi’s hand and refused to let go. This large-framed companion had also sensed a hint of tension in the atmosphere. Not understanding the source, but seeing three small girls, Zhù Shi instinctively felt uneasy.

On the other side, Su Zhe worked to keep her emotions in check. She told herself she must not be startled and excitable. She had come to the prefecture city, and here she was the mistress of her servants — their anchor and backbone. She was the one who made decisions. She had to carry herself with more composure than her servants.

But the young attendant-companion could not help herself. She pointed at the two boys: “Wh-wh-what? You you you — how can you? How could you possibly be al-al-allowed—”

The young attendant-companion was so indignant she was stuttering.

Su Zhe said: “Stop talking!”

She disliked Liji people purely because of the stories she had grown up hearing from those around her. Before any conflict had ever occurred between her and Zhù Lian and Zhù Shi, no Liji person had ever been in direct conflict with her. But when Zhù Lian was going to enter the school, she didn’t know why — she simply felt an instinctive opposition. The young girl could not have explained why, but she just didn’t like it.

This was A’Weng’s decision, and A’Weng had just said so — these two detestable boys certainly wouldn’t listen to them. All they could accomplish by blocking them here would be another brawl with the two small boys.

We need to talk to A’Weng. Su Zhe thought. She looked around, but saw that Zhù Ying had already left the inner courtyard: “Come on, let’s go to school first!” And with that, she strode ahead toward the front courtyard.

The five of them, split into two groups, made their way to the inner-quarters study.

Zhù Ying was already there. Xiang Le, Gu Tong, and the others were all at her side. Su Qingtian had also arrived. Then Zhang Xiangu, Zhù Da, and Huajie were invited to come as witnesses. After them, Zhang Jiong and the others were also summoned by her from the outer office to bear witness. They all came in with smiles on their faces. Zhang Jiong said: “The Prefect has finally taken on new students! Many congratulations.”

Xiao Wu, emboldened by his closeness with her, also said Zhù Ying ought to treat them to a meal.

Zhù Ying said: “The banquet is already arranged!”

Zhang Jiong privately thought that the move of bringing the “foreign heir” here to be educated and raised was exceedingly clever — it would certainly instil in her a closeness to the court. As for the two boys, perhaps they had other uses as well. The more he looked, the more he felt there was still a gap between his own methods and Zhù Ying’s. He stood quietly watching, making note of what Zhù Ying was doing, thinking he might imitate and learn from it in the future.

Gu Tong stepped forward and first explained the “protocol” to everyone. In Gu Tong’s view, ceremony was essential. In the eyes of all the guests who had come to witness, this ceremony was likewise necessary.

Zhù Ying had not put on her official robes, and sat in the main hall dressed in a blue brocade robe. At Gu Tong’s direction, the children performed their obeisance. Ding Gui brought over a stack of kneeling cushions. The young attendant-companion, seeing that Zhù Lian and Zhù Shi were also moving to kneel, felt deeply resentful in her heart, and took two steps back, pulling her companion back as well.

Ding Gui glanced at them, thought for a moment, and laid out three kneeling cushions on the ground. The onlookers made nothing of it. The two young attendant-companions’ dress and accessories were a notch below Su Zhe’s, and they were obviously servants. When the mistress paid obeisance to her teacher, if the servants kowtowed behind her it wouldn’t mean they were being initiated as students too, and if the servants didn’t kowtow, there was nothing discourteous about that either. At a moment like this, the servants were simply props and window-dressing.

Zhù Ying saw the little maneuver in the back, but she said nothing to address it. Zhù Lian and Zhù Shi, for their part, made no such move. Zhù Lian kept hold of Zhù Shi’s hand the entire time, and when it came to the teacher’s obeisance, he knelt half a beat faster than Su Zhe.

After the obeisance was done, they duly paid respects before the portrait of Confucius. Then Zhù Ying did not conduct a sample lesson in front of all the guests and witnesses. She arranged for everyone to go and eat, with the meal being lunch, and so the office took a half-day holiday in the afternoon.

Su Qingtian was there as Su Mingluan’s representative, offering thanks on Su Mingluan’s behalf. While the banquet was being set up, she said to Zhù Ying: “Teacher, Little Sister used to call me auntie, and now she’s become your student too.”

Zhù Ying said: “Each person keeps their own way of addressing things.”

Su Qingtian smiled: “All right. Will you begin teaching this afternoon?”

“Yes.” Zhù Ying had the children put their school bags away, eat together first, then the lesson would begin in the afternoon. Su Qingtian saw that Su Zhe’s manner was not that of someone cheerful and active, so she made a casual excuse: “Come, let me tidy your hair.”

The banquet was not yet laid out. Su Qingtian took her off to the back quarters. The two young attendant-companions followed closely. Once they were in Su Zhe’s small courtyard, they began reporting on behalf of their mistress: “The Prefect has had those two Liji little brutes come to class too! They’re not worthy!” “Our mistress is a young lady! They are servants!”

Su Qingtian had no great fondness for the Liji people either, but it hadn’t reached the point of quarrelling with two trafficked children. Su Qingtian said: “Little Sister, your mother sent you here to learn skills.” She also rebuked the two young attendant-companions: “You are not to talk back to Teacher!”

Su Qingtian recalled seeing Ding Gui bring in five kneeling cushions, and that the young attendant-companions had retreated of their own accord. But she did feel a slight puzzlement in her heart: could it be that Teacher intends to treat the Liji people well? It doesn’t seem likely, but still, I’ll go back and mention it to our lady, in case…

For now she still told the young attendant-companions not to cause trouble: “Unless they come knocking on our door for a fight, you are not to goad Little Sister into fighting your battles! Who is the mistress and who is the servant? If you won’t listen to your mistress, go back to the mountain, and I’ll tell our lady to send someone more obedient instead.” The “our lady” she referred to was Su Mingluan.

The young attendant-companions dared say no more.

Su Qingtian said to Su Zhe: “If you don’t understand something, ask Teacher directly. If something comes up, tell Teacher as well. He will look after you.”

Su Zhe said: “I can’t stand the sight of that hammer fellow.”

Su Qingtian smiled slightly: “You don’t need to please him either.”

“Mm!” Su Zhe nodded vigorously.

…

That afternoon was the first lesson.

The study had been tidied up. This room was the main hall of the first courtyard. The ceremony in the morning had also taken place here. The portrait of Confucius that had hung here had now been returned to the prefecture school.

Moving to the sides, the east inner room was Zhù Ying’s personal study. She had converted the east side room into their classroom, where they would have lessons during the day and where someone would be left to supervise their schoolwork. After lessons were done, they would each return to their rooms — whether to review their books, play, or whatever else was fine.

Inside were five desks — three in one row and two in another. Although the young attendant-companions had not performed the formal obeisance, Zhù Ying had arranged desks for them all the same. Given the tensions between the two parties, she separated them by placing one group’s desks apart from the other. The course materials she had prepared for them were ready. The lesson texts were copied out by Gu Tong in five copies, one on each child’s desk. There was no need to dwell on Su Zhe’s situation — she was born to inherit her family’s undertaking, and she had no need to take the National Academy examinations. Even if she genuinely wanted to study in the capital, there were places reserved for her. Zhù Ying’s educational aim for her was simple: not for examinations, but for practical application.

Zhù Lian was a different matter again. This child was one she had picked up and raised herself. What was the point of raising a loyal and filial official for the court? She had other plans for him. He, too, had little need to be tied too closely to the court’s examination system. Though he was her student, he was utterly unlike Gu Tong. And though he was called a “ward,” he was on a different path from Zhao Su as well.

As for the two young attendant-companions and Zhù Shi — they were a bonus, so to speak. Their aptitude was inferior to these two, and Zhù Ying even suspected they might not be able to keep pace. But it didn’t matter. Those who learned slowly would simply learn slowly. At the very least they could become literate, and as they grew a little older, if any particular talent emerged, a literate person learns new things faster than an illiterate one.

Zhù Ying had the curriculum planned out as well. Beyond teaching history, she also taught some arithmetic, geography, and the like — all subjects she could teach herself. She would not hire a private tutor. These were her own children; she needed to personally lay the foundation.

Five children arrived in the study. Su Zhe and Zhù Lian led the way, with Zhù Shi and the young attendant-companions behind.

First, they paid their respects to Zhù Ying. She observed the two parties sizing each other up in silent rivalry, and thought to herself: Little Sister has already decided Hammer Boy is a rival — at this point she has forgotten about his being “not worthy.”

Zhù Ying said: “Good. Sit down. First, take out your books. What’s on the desk is the first lesson for this month. We will go through it gradually.”

Zhù Lian and Su Zhe both quickly produced the copied lesson texts. The young attendant-companions and Zhù Shi also bowed their heads to look at that “first lesson.” On looking, they were all a little dumbfounded. Whether it was Zhù Lian or Su Zhe, their academic beginnings had been literacy-song primers. Su Zhe had been taught by her own mother and knew more characters, yet even so, one could not expect a seven-year-old girl to recognize every character in “The Annals of Chen She,” let alone understand them.

Zhù Ying said: “You’ve all learned to write, yes? Take out the green-covered notebook beside you and open it.”

Zhù Lian picked up the green-covered notebook and saw the words “Vocabulary Book” written on the cover. Zhù Ying had already gone through and selected all the unfamiliar vocabulary, and had written a model character for each word in the notebook. This way they would study vocabulary alongside the lesson text. She planned to spend a full month on this single passage.

Just the unfamiliar characters would take most of a month to teach. Within that there were also some compound terms and expressions the children would not yet know, requiring explanation. Then they would memorize it thoroughly, and then she would explain the meaning of the passage as a whole. Within this month, they would not be studying this lesson text alone — they would also study basic arithmetic. They needed to learn to count, to add and subtract.

Today she would start by testing them on ten new characters.

First she read through the lesson text once, then gave an explanation, and then came the new vocabulary.

Telling stories — children all loved to listen.

Su Zhe asked: “Can ghosts and spirits also be faked?”

Zhù Shi said artlessly: “Of course! Last year the Prefect caught a swindler who had been impersonating a fox immortal!”

Zhù Ying said: “That’s right. And so it is said: ‘Revere the spirits and deities, but keep them at a distance.'” She went on to explain the meaning of this saying — acknowledge that such things exist, and that people believe in them, but don’t consult the spirits for everything. It doesn’t work. And spirits are easily impersonated.

Zhù Ying’s storytelling was far more vivid and engrossing than Zhù Shi’s one-liner, and she told the children the story of the “fox immortal” — edited at front and back — from the angle of “catching the fox immortal”: how the “fox immortal” dared not be seen in person; the theft that had occurred; how in the end it turned out to be a person in disguise; how the person was given a flogging and beheaded.

Zhù Lian listened to the story, utterly captivated!

Su Zhe’s questions were remarkably numerous. The classroom seemed to revolve around her as its center. She asked: “Kings and nobles, heroes and generals — can people truly be born to any station equally? How can people be the same as one another?”

Zhù Lian silently nursed a knot of indignation, thinking: How are we not? That’s right, we’re not — rich families are especially full of bad people and fools! Hmph! You think you’re better than others?

Su Zhe was particularly at a loss to understand. Even with all the discrimination she’d faced, she was still the granddaughter of the cave-master, the daughter of the current head of the Asu family, destined to become a county magistrate in the future. How could that be the same as someone born a slave or a servant? People were born with their place in the order — noble or common — and she was obviously of the “noble lineage.”

The two young attendant-companions and Zhù Shi had neither the drive nor the intensity of these two, and listened in a haze of partial comprehension. For them, “unfamiliar characters” referred not only to the words in the vocabulary book — they hadn’t even fully memorized the literacy song yet.

Zhù Ying was not displeased. She asked Su Zhe: “How noble would be noble enough?”

Su Zhe looked somewhat blank. Zhù Ying smiled and pointed to the map on the wall, saying to Su Zhe: “Look — we are here right now. All of this is Southern Prefecture. Here — this is Asu County. And here — this is Quanzhou. All of this together is the realm. Is the child of a county magistrate noble? What about the child of a Prefect? What about the child of a Regional Governor?”

Su Zhe tilted her small chin: “Then become the Regional Governor!”

Zhù Ying felt a flicker of pleasure and smiled: “Very good. Then become the Regional Governor. And before that? What if someone said you could never be more than a county magistrate?”

Su Zhe’s little chin froze in midair.

That would never do!

Actually, it had been all right before — before, she had lived on the mountain, in the stronghold, and the world she had known was only so wide. The Asu family had already been the best thing she knew. But then she came down the mountain, to grandaunt’s home, to A’Weng’s home, and having seen something better, she could not go back. What did a Prefect’s power and prestige look like? It was better than the stronghold, better than her mother being a county magistrate.

Zhù Ying smiled slightly: “Come now, look at the next character. All of you!” She flicked her finger, shooting a small wooden ball at each of them — Zhù Shi’s forehead, the young attendant-companion’s back of the head — all found their mark. Her aim was not bad. Zhù Ying was moderately pleased with herself.

…

From that day forward, the classroom became thoroughly chaotic. Every day Zhù Ying gave them lessons for only half a morning, then left someone to watch over their self-study. Sometimes it was Xiang Le, sometimes Xiang An, sometimes Senior Sister Hu — all of them trained people. In the afternoons, Huajie would come first to teach them to count numbers, giving a lesson of half a quarter-hour. The remaining time was for writing, calligraphy practice, memorization, and exercises.

Basic study and training has always been tedious and boring — particularly hard for small children.

By the third day, Zhù Shi simply could not sit still. His chair seemed to have grown teeth, and he twisted and turned this way and that, making quite a racket. The two young attendant-companions were somewhat better in that regard — when they couldn’t sit still they wouldn’t wriggle as dramatically — but the front row would frequently turn their heads to look at the back row, and the back row would poke the front row’s backs, and the two would sometimes carry on whispering conversations.

Su Zhe would sometimes overhear and feel deeply mortified. Zhù Lian likewise could not keep Zhù Shi under control. After each of them received another flicked wooden ball, Su Zhe that very evening gave the two young attendant-companions a severe scolding: “Do that again and I’ll have your tongues cut out!”

On Zhù Lian’s side, his good friend Zhù Shi said: “I don’t want to go to school.”

Both Su Zhe and Zhù Lian were themselves not yet ten years old. Being able to manage themselves was already exceptional for children their age. The young attendant-companions were somewhat better — they had received some training and no longer dared to speak during class. It was just that they were not learning very well. Zhù Shi, on the other hand, had a powerful backer — Zhù Da. That old gentleman revered learning but was indulgent toward children who didn’t want to learn.

He himself was a spirit-medium figure who had not learned to read until past forty, and was now past fifty and still not very good at writing.

Zhù Da felt that forcing a child who couldn’t absorb anything to sit still for half an hour was “stricter than prison time,” and went to plead with Zhù Ying on Zhù Shi’s behalf, asking for some playtime. Zhù Ying said: “If he doesn’t learn some characters, how will he get on in the future?”

“Your mother and I don’t know many characters, and we still raised you, didn’t we?”

Zhù Ying said: “He needs to learn characters.”

Zhù Da grumbled: “Learning characters doesn’t require working this hard. He doesn’t want to learn. Why go to such lengths?”

Zhù Ying summoned the two children and asked: “Shitou, do you not want to go to school?”

Zhù Lian’s heart gave a start: “He didn’t say that.”

Zhù Da said: “Let him say it himself.”

Zhù Shi was torn. He had always been slow to learn, and had never given much thought to whether he wanted to go to school. Zhang Xiangu said: “Oh dear, don’t force him.”

Zhù Da immediately said to Zhù Ying: “Exactly! Don’t treat him like you were at his age!”

Zhang Xiangu said: “And you be quiet too.”

Zhù Ying said to the two children: “You two are a pair — whether you study or not, you’ll be worlds apart in the future! Would one of you really end up as an official while the other becomes a servant?”

If Zhù Shi refused to put in the effort at learning and showed no particular talent in other areas either, Zhù Ying was not going to give him the same favorable treatment as Zhù Lian. Two children who had grown up calling each other brothers — in just a few years’ time, they would belong to two entirely different worlds. Anyone who chose to say “such is fate” about that would earn themselves a sharp slap from Zhù Ying. This had nothing to do with fate!

“All of you be quiet! Zhù Shi, back to school tomorrow! While the others study the lesson text, you continue studying the literacy song.”

When Zhù Ying put on her stern face, Zhù Da was silenced as well, and could only cast a sympathetic look at Zhù Shi. Zhang Xiangu said: “Learning characters is useful, Shitou dear. Whatever else you don’t want to learn, that’s fine — but do learn to read.”

That evening she specifically sought out Zhù Ying for a chat, and her meaning was still the same: “Those two boys — as long as they have a trade to live on in the future, you’ll have done right by them! What can you really cultivate from them? You have to look at the material, don’t you? And don’t wear yourself out! Little Sister alone isn’t enough to keep you busy? You… you don’t even have a child of your own.”

Zhang Xiangu said more and more as she went: “Those two boys are pitiable, I can see that they’re pitiable, and you have a good heart. But you also have to see the person in front of you. Hammer Boy is clever — he can be taught, and if it’s not too much trouble, teach him. Shitou — this one’s practically your own son. Even if he can’t be molded into anything, all you can do is leave him a couple of mu of land to make sure he doesn’t starve to death.”

Zhù Ying said: “I have no land to leave him. If he can’t learn, I also can’t keep him at home living like a young master — good food, good clothes, housing, books, brush and ink, snacks, spending money. Wouldn’t that be better given to a poor, talented child who longs to study but has no means?”

Zhang Xiangu said: “Don’t be cross, don’t be cross — who’s asking you to treat him like your own child? If he can be taught, teach him; if he can’t, then let it be. Everyone has their own lot in life. If that’s how you’re going to handle it, you can’t treat the two of them the same. If they grow up and end up in completely different circumstances, who could bear that?”

Zhù Ying said: “Isn’t that exactly what I mean?”

Zhang Xiangu said: “You’ve already made up your mind. Stop fretting then. No matter what the others do, I don’t care — I only care about whether you’re well. Old Third, you don’t owe anyone anything. You don’t have to arrange everything so perfectly for others, from birth to death. Think about yourself for once.”

Zhù Ying said: “I’m not cross. If someone won’t be managed, I won’t manage them.”

“Then go to bed early.”

“Mm.”

Apart from one student who was completely unable to absorb anything, the others were doing reasonably well.

Zhù Lian asked few questions — he simply studied and memorized. In contrast, Su Zhe had endless questions. This young girl seemed, on the surface, full of rebellious spirit, yet many of her ideas turned out to be quite consonant with proper principles and conduct. Zhù Ying could not help but slowly and carefully explain various points of reasoning to her.

Huajie was far more patient than Zhù Ying, and even she said that the students’ levels of progress were very uneven. Su Zhe had already learned to count — she had studied the most basic arithmetic in the stronghold. Zhù Lian had never encountered it before, but he learned very quickly. As for Zhù Shi — Huajie had even asked Zhù Lian: “Did Shitou have a high fever when he was small?”

Yet Zhù Shi had one good quality — he could endure hardship. Not that others couldn’t endure it, but he endured it without complaint. Su Zhe wanted to learn the plum-blossom-pole footwork that Senior Sister Hu practiced, and Zhù Lian also watched with eyes full of longing. Zhù Shi was dragged along with them to join in. Physical hardship he could weather.

Zhù Ying observed this and thought: This is the most that can be done. She had far too many things to attend to and could not lavish too much effort on Zhù Shi. As long as Zhù Shi could find a trade to sustain himself and gradually learn it, she would trouble herself no further.

There were plenty more things demanding her attention.

Zhù Ying had given up on strict management of Zhù Shi. The young attendant-companions whispered behind their hands, saying nothing beyond the notion that Liji boys were bound to do poorly in their studies. Su Zhe overheard and felt vexed: “All of you shut up! Do you think I’m speaking emptily when I say I’ll cut out your tongues?! Someone come here!”

The young attendant-companions were given another fright. The female servant who accompanied them walked in: “Mistress.”

Su Zhe said: “Twenty strokes of the rod on each one’s palm!” Her expression was stern as she watched the female servant give each of the two young attendant-companions twenty strokes, until they were crying and sobbing, before she added: “Will you dare to forget my words again?”

The young attendant-companions said tearfully: “We — we won’t dare anymore.”

Su Zhe asked the female servant: “Has Auntie not come back yet?”

The female servant said: “Not yet.”

…

Su Qingtian had gone to see Su Mingluan. She had seen the winter wheat harvest from the lowlands and concluded that the entirety of Southern Prefecture was gradually growing more prosperous, which meant mountain goods could find a somewhat larger market in the prefecture city as well — they had both money and grain, after all.

Her reason for returning this time was first to discuss this matter with Su Mingluan: specifically, to exchange some mountain goods for a quantity of lowland grain. Only with sufficient grain could more people be sustained, and only with sufficient population could territory be held and expanded.

Su Mingluan said: “When Godfather was in Fulu County, he issued an order that no matter how profitable the oranges became, farmland must never be converted to grow them. He truly is a formidable person!”

Su Qingtian said: “Yes. Teacher can always see further than we can. But… seeing far ahead — could it be that he might…?”

“What is it?” Su Mingluan was still turning over in her mind the things her daughter had come back and told her.

Su Qingtian said: “I mean the Liji. Those two small boys — we know where they come from, and we know Teacher has always been kind-hearted. But it’s still not the sort of thing that warrants bringing them into his own home to be raised, or having them attend classes together with everyone. Is he going to treat the Liji people well too? What does that mean for us?”

Su Mingluan frowned slightly and said: “He never wanted to help us wage war against the Liji, though he does have his reasons. And we don’t entirely rely on him, nor do we follow his every order just to get by.” She genuinely could not guess how Zhù Ying intended to arrange things between her and the Liji tribe. Forcibly pressuring both sides to reconcile? Not very likely. Pull in the Liji? What conditions would the Liji put forward? Would they move to suppress her?

Su Mingluan said: “I’ll come down the mountain with you!” The mountain’s wheat harvest had now concluded, and she could use this as a reason to go down and see Zhù Ying, reporting the good news to her. Su Mingluan immediately began making preparations. In addition to mountain goods, she also packed two large sacks of mountain-grown wheat to show Zhù Ying.

Su Mingluan’s conjecture was not far off. Zhù Ying did indeed have plans to “draw in” the Liji, and had made contact with “Blade Brother” again.

Since the Liji tribe had no written language either, both sides communicated by passing oral messages. “Wolf Brother” had taken a message up the mountain and, after some days, brought one back. Without even stopping at home after descending, he headed straight for the prefectural office. The office gatekeepers recognized him and asked him to sit in the gatehouse while they went to report inside. Ding Gui then came out and led him in.

Zhù Ying was in the signing room. When “Wolf Brother” entered, he attracted covert glances from several people in the prefectural office. They only dared to sneak a look from behind and would not venture a word of comment.

“Wolf Brother” entered the signing room and first made a salute, then said: “Prefect, the head chief says — now that you already believe who he is, he also trusts you. He asks that you meet again in the same place as last time. On the night of the full moon, he will bring over the person you want and hand them to you. Any other matters, he says to discuss in person.”

Gu Tong drew a small, sharp breath. So straightforward?

Zhù Ying said: “Does he have any conditions?”

“Wolf Brother” said: “The head chief says he’ll discuss them when you meet.”

Zhù Ying said: “Good. Thank you for your trouble.”

“Wolf Brother” said: “I hunt on the mountain, and my father lives in the lowlands. I want both mountain and lowland to be well.” In truth, neither he nor the head chief had been through that great conflagration — they had not yet been born when it happened. It was simply that the loss had been so catastrophic, and the trust had been betrayed so deeply, that the memory had been kept alive until now. As for pain felt in one’s own flesh and blood, it was the internecine strife of the tribe itself, the skirmishes between neighboring groups — that was the unending, immediate reality.

Zhù Ying had someone see “Wolf Brother” out. “Wolf Brother” had a smattering of the Southern Ping dialect, and Gu Tong walked out with him, saying: “Your family is all doing well.”

“Wolf Brother” nodded.

Gu Tong detached himself and returned, then began consulting Zhù Ying: “Teacher, how should we prepare? I’m afraid bringing the same small number of people as last time won’t project enough authority or dignity. There’s also the matter of Commander Mei — if we don’t tell him, there may be danger; but if we do, he might cause complications.”

Zhù Ying said: “I am going to receive a criminal. This is a civil-governance matter.”

“Oh! Then let’s bring more people along! Right, and the family… perhaps they shouldn’t come this time?”

Zhù Ying nodded: “Go have Chou Wen summoned.”

“Yes.”

Chou Wen arrived in the signing room quickly. Zhù Ying saw that he looked dusty and travel-worn, and asked: “Have you been up in the mountains?”

Chou Wen said: “Making a living, as one must.”

“Everyone hustles for their livelihood. How long would it take you to arrange your affairs at home?”

Chou Wen did not understand her intent, and cautiously bowed: “I would not presume to ask what the Prefect requires?”

Zhù Ying said: “Within three days — can you settle your household affairs? If you can, come with me on a trip and I’ll pay you for your trouble.”

“I would not dare refuse, I would not dare refuse,” Chou Wen said quickly, “I am willing to serve the Prefect.”

“You are a man who supports a family — the payment is still necessary,” Zhù Ying said. “I wish to meet with ‘Precious Blade’ of the Liji. When we meet, can you identify him by sight?”

“Him?!” Chou Wen urged her strongly against it: “He is not a man who reasons with people.”

“Can you identify him?”

Chou Wen said reluctantly: “I can. I even grew up with his elder brother — but his elder brother died of illness. When you asked about his appearance last time, everything I said was the truth.”

“Knowing him by sight is enough. Come with me, and verify that the person is the right one.”

“Yes.”

Zhù Ying then asked Chou Wen: “Has your grandfather been buried?”

“Yes.”

“A whole body?”

Chou Wen shook his head. Zhù Ying said: “I understand. Go make your arrangements. Ding Gui.”

Ding Gui brought out five bolts of cloth. Zhù Ying said: “A deposit.”

Chou Wen declined to accept it, so Zhù Ying had Ding Gui carry the cloth with him as he escorted Chou Wen back to the market, leaving the cloth at his shop.

Three days before the agreed-upon date, Zhù Ying assembled her escort party. She left her family members in the prefecture city, gave the students their assignments, left Xiang An at home to supervise the children’s schoolwork, took Senior Sister Hu and the others, bundled up Chou Wen, and headed off toward the spot where she had raced horses with “Blade Brother” the last time.

“Wolf Brother” led the way ahead. Commander Mei’s scouts tracked them from a distance. Seeing that Zhù Ying’s party was properly equipped with a standard procession, and that she had not brought family members but had brought a large prison cart, the scouts thought to themselves: This time she must be going to collect a criminal — she can’t be going to stir up trouble. The scouts relayed word to Commander Mei’s camp: The Prefect is making an official circuit, with a number of attendants and a prison cart. Family not included.

Commander Mei read the message with relief and said contentedly: “Now, this is more like it! A Prefect ought to do proper Prefect work. Catch some criminals, till some land, teach some school — how fine is that?!”

Zhù Ying’s own feeling was also quite good. She rode on horseback; the sun had been out long enough by now that she could feel it faintly warm on her skin. In the fields, diligent farmers had already begun ploughing, preparing for the spring planting. Chou Wen rode a short horse alongside hers, still somewhat unsettled in his heart, very worried about the stronghold where he had grown up.

Zhù Ying, for her part, had no such worries. She traveled normally, ate normally, slept normally, and on the afternoon of the fourteenth arrived at the location and began setting up camp.

The place from last time had been her chosen campsite to begin with. Arriving this time, she found the river had risen a few more inches. She ordered that the camp be shifted back several dozen paces farther from the bank. The white-uniformed constables and the yamen runners set up camp, while Zhù Ying let her horse amble at will. Senior Sister Hu and Chou Wen both rode along beside her. Near the river, Zhù Ying spotted several piles of ash and said: “They’ve already had scouts come by.”

Chou Wen dismounted and looked them over, pulling a partly-eaten tuber root from the ashes: “It’s them.”

Zhù Ying said: “Your movements are nimble.”

Chou Wen smiled slightly.

Zhù Ying said: “That is a good thing. Wealth and material things are things you may lose. Fame and reputation are likewise fleeting. Only a skill rooted in one’s own body is something no one can take from you — it is the foundation of one’s livelihood.”

Chou Wen shook his head: “I used to have skills like this too. My father’s skills were greater than mine, and even so he could not protect my grandfather. For one’s livelihood, beyond skill, one also needs rules and order. Rules protect people.”

The two conversed idly. From the mountain above, someone rode down. From a distance: “Is that the Prefect?”

“Prefect” was a phonetic imitation of the Mandarin pronunciation in their dialect. Chou Wen frowned and looked over, then called out: “Who comes?”

“Oh?” The rider urged his horse over. “Is that you? Ah — Prefect.”

The newcomer turned out to know Chou Wen. While they exchanged greetings, Zhù Ying listened and could tell from their conversation that Chou Wen and this man were cousins. She gave him a nod as well and asked: “Where is your cave-master?”

The man said: “Just arriving now. The cave-master didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.” He noticed that Chou Wen was not volunteering his name to the Prefect, sighed, shook his head, and left.

Not long after he left, “Precious Blade” arrived with his contingent. He had brought roughly a hundred people this time, with one donkey carrying a person trussed up like a cocoon — the criminal, brought along.

Zhù Ying had brought Li Sifa and the local ward head along this time, to verify whether this was indeed the wanted criminal.

Both sides had deployed their forces. “Precious Blade” looked around and remarked: “Lowlanders certainly know how to project an imposing presence. Impressive to look at. No wonder they can use this to attract people down from the mountains.”

As the two parties drew closer and closer without stopping, Li Sifa on Zhù Ying’s side began to urge: “Prefect, Prefect — your honored self must not risk danger. Send someone to make the handover.”

Zhù Ying said: “That will not do.”

She and “Precious Blade” drew up their horses five paces apart. Zhù Ying gave him a clasped-hand bow, which he returned: “I’ve brought you the person you wanted.” At Zhù Ying’s side, Chou Wen also confirmed: the one who had come was indeed the head chief.

“Precious Blade” cast a sidelong glance at Chou Wen: “The Prefect brought him along too!”

Zhù Ying said: “You do know each other.”

“Precious Blade” gave a hand signal. Two men came out from the ranks, dragged the “cocoon” down from the donkey’s back, unknotted the ropes, pulled off the sacking, and turned the face toward their side. The local ward head on Zhù Ying’s side was pushed forward and took one look: “That’s him!”

Li Sifa said skeptically: “Are you sure? His own mother might not recognize him in this state!”

Zhù Ying also looked. The criminal had evidently suffered greatly. The binding ropes were no longer obvious once removed, but the man had been stuffed inside a sack. With the sack off, you could see his clothes were nearly beaten to tatters. Judging from the injuries, new wounds layered over old ones, his face all but misshapen.

From the look of the older injuries, some of them must have been sustained well before now — which meant this person had been in the hands of the Liji tribe for some time already. When Zhù Ying had brought up the matter to “Blade Brother” the last time, he had probably already been captured.

Interesting.

Zhù Ying’s side received the person, and she then brought out money and silk to offer “Blade Brother” as a gesture of thanks. Chou Wen said: “If the Prefect gives him gifts now, he will start deliberately keeping people from the lowlands who break the law, so he can sell them to you.”

Zhù Ying laughed: “You really do despise him that much?”

Chou Wen’s composure cracked.

“Blade Brother” couldn’t fully follow the lowland dialect, but someone translated it for him. He spat lightly in Chou Wen’s direction and said to Zhù Ying: “That’s what you lowlanders did to us.”

Zhù Ying thought: Not surprising.

She said: “You brought my criminal to me. What are your conditions?”

“Blade Brother” said: “I want you not to help that bird. Can you agree to that?”

Zhù Ying said: “What counts as help?”

“She and I are enemies. If you help her, I will not be able to help you anymore.” He pointed his riding crop at the criminal now locked in the prison cart, telling Zhù Ying that matters like this one would be harder to handle going forward. She needed to give him an explanation.

Zhù Ying asked: “What sort of explanation do you want?”

While the two were talking, they both heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching. From the distance, another contingent of riders came galloping over. Zhù Ying thought to herself: That doesn’t sound like Commander Mei’s horses!

They were coming from the wrong direction!

Shortly, a single rider came galloping out ahead. The Liji people immediately drew their blades. “Blade Brother” hardened his expression: “You’ve set a trap! You’ve had the Qixia people ambush me!”

The rider who came was indeed dressed in the Qixia style — blue clothing with embroidered borders. And it was another of Zhù Ying’s students. Seeing Zhù Ying, the rider called out: “Teacher! The county magistrate is just behind me! The winter wheat harvest this year has also been plentiful — we were just going to go report the good news to Teacher! We didn’t expect to find you here. Hmm? You pig — what are you doing here?”