Meng Hong.
That name was a notch above most — unlike Zhù Ying, whose whole family had once gone without names entirely. Not only did she herself have none, but the names of her ancestors going back eight generations had been lost. She had invented them herself after becoming an official.
That Meng Hong had a name at all meant Zhù Ying would not dismiss him too lightly.
She strode into the courtyard. Zhao Zhen murmured, “I asked Little Wu to help Alian receive the guest there, with Old Wang as companion.”
Zhù Ying nodded and walked toward the main hall of the Zhù residence. Inside, the seat of honor stood empty. Little Wu and the others sat across from Meng Hong in the lower section; the tea had been refilled twice already, and the conversation between Little Wu and Meng Hong had gradually run dry. The smiles of Wang Sheng and the others had long since frozen on their faces. Only Meng Hong betrayed nothing, and Little Wu alone could still manage a natural smile as he traded bits of capital gossip with his guest.
The moment Zhù Ying appeared, even Little Wu looked like a man reprieved, his smile dissolving from his face as he stepped forward. “My lord, this is Grand Supervisor Meng from the Wei Prince’s household.”
Zhù Ying looked in the indicated direction. Meng Hong was genuinely striking. His face was fair and beardless, and the absence of a beard made him look younger than he was — seemingly not yet thirty. He was tall and slender, with sharp, sword-like brows and bright eyes. Perhaps just a shade short of what one might call a heroic man, yet undeniably handsome. Among the notable eunuchs of the day, his appearance would hold its own against any.
He even carried a trace of noble bearing, and a hint of refinement.
Hearing Little Wu call him Grand Supervisor, he first said, “I dare not accept that title.” Then: “This subordinate pays his respects to Lord Zhù.” His bow was exactly that of an ordinary young official.
Zhù Ying returned half the bow. “We have never met before. May I ask what brings you here?”
Taking the opportunity to speak, she looked Meng Hong over carefully once more. He wore no official robes, but his calling card had identified him as an inner official of the princely household. His rank was currently equivalent to that of Blue De within the palace — both were of the rank of subordinate sixth grade. Blue De was the adopted son of Blue Xing. As for Meng Hong… Zhù Ying searched her memory. She could not recall any Grand Supervisor in the palace surnamed Meng.
A princely household could not gather its own eunuchs; they were all assigned by the imperial palace. Ranks and the like were managed uniformly. Once assigned to a household, performance reviews would naturally take into account the household’s preferences, but official rank was a concrete thing. It was somewhat like officials serving in the capital versus those posted to the provinces — except that eunuchs who left the palace were not quite like officials posted outward, and their income streams were not as varied.
Meng Hong, for his part, studied Zhù Ying at close range. He had long heard of this prefect. After she arrived in the capital, he had observed her from a distance on one occasion; now that he was near enough to see clearly, he looked more carefully. Zhù Ying was of middling height and slightly lean, which gave her a sharp, alert quality. Her complexion was fair, her eyes bright yet touched with a certain softness, and every line of her face conveyed warmth. Standing there, she exuded an approachability — like a long-lost old friend, as though intimacy could be resumed at any moment one wished.
Meng Hong thought: indeed, no simple figure.
Seeing that Zhù Ying had no intention of offering him a seat where he stood, he did not let his expression cool. Instead, he said politely: “This subordinate has been presumptuous. I have a matter to entrust to you. I dare not tempt my lord into any breach of law — for you it would be a trivial thing, yet for me it would be an immense favor.”
“Oh?” Zhù Ying, hearing that this concerned himself, gestured for Meng Hong to come inside and sit down.
Host and guest settled into their new seats. Jing Sheng, Zhù Lian, and the others dared not sit; they all stood in attendance at the sides.
Fresh tea was brought out, and Zhù Ying noticed that her household’s hospitality was rather sparse by comparison — there were no refreshments.
Fortunately, Meng Hong was not picky. He said, “The lords entering the capital are all occupied, and this subordinate has never found the right moment. With the New Year approaching and my lord only growing busier, I had no choice but to come now.”
Zhù Ying asked, “What matter is it?”
Meng Hong said, “Does my lord remember a man named Lu Mei?”
Zhù Ying replied, “The two of you are quite far apart in age.”
Meng Hong relaxed slightly. “Yes, he is my cousin — quite a few years my senior, but we do know each other. My mother’s maiden name is Lu.”
That was rather a strange thing to say. Lu Mei had been exiled to what was once Nanfu — exiled that far, his offense had been no small matter. And his relative had become a eunuch?
Zhù Ying nodded.
Meng Hong continued, “Previously, thanks to my lord’s grace in permitting him to return home and visit family, he and I met briefly.”
Zhù Ying nodded again. A eunuch of a princely household and a banished criminal official — relatives? Something did not add up.
Meng Hong said, “Neither of us cares to speak of our pasts. The circumstances of his household are pitiable. I cannot help him much. All I ask is that when my lord returns to Wuzhou, you look in on him from time to time — that would already be a profound and lasting kindness.”
As he spoke, he presented a gift list. Zhao Zhen hesitated. Ding Gui stepped forward to receive it, but Zhù Ying waved her hand.
Meng Hong said, “I mean nothing beyond this — it is a thank-you to my lord for previously permitting him to return home, allowing the family to reunite.”
Zhù Ying smiled. “What is there to thank me for? I allowed it because he had once been an official himself, and because of his filial heart. Not for any other reason.”
Meng Hong said, “My lord’s words put this subordinate at ease — and yet ill at ease.”
“Lu Mei has been in Wuzhou long enough. If he wished, he could have registered his household there ages ago. I see that he still has spirit — most likely he still hopes to be reinstated. If you brothers have any energy to spare, you would do better to spend it here in the capital. He and I have something of a friendship; seeing him reinstated would please me more than any gift you could bring.”
Meng Hong’s gifts had not even made it through the gate — they were still on the large cart outside, intercepted when the household tried to unload them. Now he was being made to offer them in person, only to be refused again.
After some back-and-forth, Meng Hong said, “Reinstatement is a matter of who knows when. The present debt of gratitude must be repaid now.”
Zhù Ying said, “He was dismissed and exiled, and your own position is not yet secure. You must conserve your strength — use your steel where it matters most. Did Lu Mei not tell you? In Wuzhou, Captain Mei trusts him; most of the documents and correspondence go through him now. He is getting by well enough. If you feel indebted, wait until he has been promoted and let him come to see me himself.”
Seeing that the affair had not gone as hoped, Meng Hong took his polite leave.
Zhù Ying courteously saw him to the gate. One of Meng Hong’s attendants began, “But this—” Meng Hong gave a slight shake of his head, and the attendant fell silent.
Meng Hong turned to Zhù Ying and made a deep bow of farewell. Zhù Ying replied, “Mind your step on the road.”
—
The attendants exchanged glances all the way back. Before they had even returned to the Wei Prince’s household, one sidled up and whispered, “He didn’t accept anything. Are we just going back like this? Won’t there be trouble?”
Meng Hong looked at them coldly. The attendant closed his mouth, cursing his luck inwardly.
Meng Hong’s expression did not ease until they were back at the Wei Prince’s residence. The gifts had to be hauled back inside. Household staff who spotted him returning with the gifts intact could not ask openly but muttered quietly among themselves: “What happened?”
Meng Hong’s brow creased.
The Wei Prince’s evening banquet was still in progress, music and dance in full swing. The Wei Prince and his primary consort sat above, with favored side consorts and princes below them.
Meng Hong stood outside, waiting until the Wei Prince happened to glance his way and gave a slight tilt of his chin. Only then did Meng Hong step quickly to the prince’s side. The Wei Prince asked: “Well?”
Meng Hong answered: “He didn’t accept.”
The Wei Prince raised an eyebrow and rose from his seat. Meng Hong followed as the prince walked out. Along the way, Meng Hong said: “Slippery as an eel, and every word perfectly high-minded.”
The Wei Prince said: “What did he say?”
Meng Hong replied: “He told me to put our energy into reinstatement, and to have Lu Mei come find him himself once reinstated.”
The Wei Prince let out a scornful laugh. “Did he really think of Lu Mei as your true cousin? Never mind. He is stationed so far away; there is no immediate need. There is a thread in place now — we can revisit once he returns to the capital.”
Meng Hong said: “This subordinate was unable to accomplish the task.”
The Wei Prince said: “Among so many people, not everyone can be won over. What else is happening elsewhere?”
Meng Hong replied: “Some people appear to already have inclinations. Even the Tang Prince’s household has sent people around to pay calls. The household scholar Dai Ying has been calling at several residences of late. The Lu Prince’s brother-in-law Duan Ying has also been quite active, though Liu Songnian is having none of it. The Ying Prince, who in past years was not particularly close to the Zhao Prince, has lately been constantly in his company. Ding Yuan went to call on Chief Minister Wang and Chief Minister Zhong, and came out of both meetings with tears on his face — clearly unsuccessful.”
The Wei Prince let out a contemptuous laugh. “Still dreaming of becoming ‘National Uncle’?”
Meng Hong reported a few more matters, and the Wei Prince said, “Go.”
“Yes.”
Meng Hong withdrew to his own duty room. He had independent quarters within the household, with several dozen eunuchs under him, and his own “adopted sons.” When he returned, the younger boys came to help him change clothes and serve tea. Meng Hong had drunk his fill of tea at the Zhù residence — the very sight of it now turned his stomach. The boys read his expression and took the tea away.
One of the younger boys said, “Father, you worked hard today — I’ll go fetch your dinner right away!”
Meng Hong’s meals were no poor affair. He ate a few mouthfuls, then said to another son: “Make a note — prepare an extra New Year’s calling card for the Zhù household and send it over. Also prepare four sets of modest gifts, nothing too lavish or too plain. When delivering them, find out when Prefect Zhù plans to depart and by which route.”
“Yes.”
Meng Hong drew an envelope from his sleeve and dropped it on the table. “Label it and store it carefully.”
The four sons exchanged glances. The two who could read were about to step forward, but the youngest moved nimbly and snatched it first. “Yes. What label shall I use?”
Meng Hong gave him a cold look. “Lu Mei.”
“Yes.”
Meng Hong finished his meal quickly and went back to attend upon the Wei Prince. The cold wind caused the lantern in the young eunuch’s hand to sway ceaselessly, its circle of light swinging back and forth. Meng Hong tucked his hands inside his sleeves and thought over what to do next. He was a eunuch of the Wei Prince’s household; naturally it would be best to help the Wei Prince secure the position of Crown Prince.
The Wei Prince was neither the empress’s son, nor the eldest, nor a favorite — that was rather difficult. But the others were nothing much either. There was still a chance.
But how to go about it? Officials who had risen to prominence all had some exceptional quality; they would not easily board the Wei Prince’s ship. For now, he should keep his attention on the capital officials — especially the Imperial Guards. As for provincial officials, there was no great urgency, but a thread ought to be kept in place. Meng Hong thought it over. Lu Mei could not possibly have told Zhù Ying the true situation.
His own birth mother was no blood relation of Lu Mei’s — they merely shared the same surname Lu.
When Lu Mei had returned home on that previous visit, it was not only to see his family — he had also come to find Meng Hong, to beg for help, and that request had eventually reached Meng Hong’s door. At the time, Meng Hong had not thought much of this “cousin.” His mother and Lu Mei’s father were separated by five generations — they were only distantly of the same surname. Meng Hong had grown up poor; he had never known the Lu family to offer any help whatsoever. Then one great flood came, and his parents, seeing no other way to keep him alive, put him on a slave trader’s boat.
Fellow townsmen were an important bond, and Lu Mei was a fellow townsman — but the bond of hometown did not require it to be Lu Mei specifically. A managing eunuch of a princely household, pulling strings for one criminal official exiled three thousand li away, was troublesome and hardly worth the effort. He had no connections at the Ministry of Personnel, and there was no point in petitioning the Wei Prince on Lu Mei’s behalf either.
But he had accepted the calling card. He had originally thought today’s visit would allow him to build some rapport with Zhù Ying, and the card bearing Lu Mei’s name would serve as a supporting piece. Who could have known the other party would not take the bait?
Indeed — everyone was difficult to deal with.
These ministers!
Meng Hong was in a thoroughly sour mood. Walking on, he was suddenly struck by a flash of inspiration: what if everyone else simply appeared less worthy than His Highness? Would that not be enough?
—
Zhù Ying’s mood, by contrast, was fairly good.
Meng Hong was an interesting figure. He had been rather careless — setting aside the distant past, she had been in the capital not long ago. Unlike the present occasion, when so many prefects were gathered, her visit at that time had been fairly conspicuous. Why had he not sought her out then, and only now remembered?
Little Wu was somewhat unsettled. He too had been thinking about a posting. His mind was in turmoil — one moment on the situation in the capital, the next on the fact that this visitor was a “Grand Supervisor” from a princely household, and on how he himself had just been sitting there making conversation with the man, even adding a few agreeable remarks when Meng Hong spoke of his gratitude toward Zhù Ying and the Wei Prince’s admiration of her. But Zhù Ying had not taken Meng Hong’s bait.
Then his thoughts would circle back to his own posting, and he worried that Zhù Ying might have already agreed to too many requests from others, pushing his own matter further back. It was not that he doubted Zhù Ying’s word — only that if there were even two others, there would be a matter of order. He felt rather uncertain. A princely household eunuch would bring generous gifts, surely? What if someone offered even more?
Distracted and uneasy, Little Wu was barely present.
Zhù Ying glanced at him and asked, “What is wrong?”
Little Wu replied, “Nothing — nothing at all. I’ve just never seen a eunuch look that fine.”
Zhù Ying said, “Those who rise tend to look the part. It is the same everywhere. Your mind ought not to be on him right now. Go and practice your calligraphy.”
“Yes.”
Zhù Ying then called Zhù Lian and Jing Sheng to speak with them, asking what Meng Hong had said during their time together.
The following day, Zhù Ying continued her round of calls. She went again to the Zheng Marquis’s residence. She arrived early and caught Zheng Marquis, Zheng Xi, and the others still at home. Zheng Chuan ran out to greet her: “Why has Third Brother come?”
Zhù Ying replied, “You can assume I have nothing better to do, if you like.”
Zheng Chuan said, “Then there must be something! As luck would have it, A’Jie is also coming back today.”
Zhù Ying asked, “Good. How is she keeping?”
“Very well — just busy. Her husband trusts her with everything.”
Zhù Ying felt the urge to roll her eyes but restrained it. The Marquis’s household had already finished breakfast. Zheng Marquis and Zheng Xi, father and son, were talking together while waiting for their daughter to return. Seeing Zhù Ying, the Marchioness said at once, “What good timing — we are all here.”
Zhù Ying smiled. “I seem to have arrived at just the right moment.”
Zheng Xi turned to the three children beside him. “Come — greet your Third Brother. Second Young Miss, when you were an infant, it was he who prepared your swaddling.”
Yue Miaojun had given birth to two daughters and a son. The eldest had been born when Zhù Ying was still county magistrate of Fulu County. Now that girl had grown into a delicate young lady. Zhù Ying had become a prefect. The girl carried herself well; her features were not as striking as Zheng Ling’s, but her manners were impeccable. Her younger sister took after Zheng Xi a little more. The youngest was a boy, who also looked clean and capable.
After greeting Zhù Ying, all three said nothing more and quietly returned to their places.
Yue Miaojun asked Zhù Ying: “Are you still busy? You didn’t catch a chill that snowy day, did you?”
The Marchioness asked what had happened; Yue Miaojun recounted how Zhù Ying had gone to Liu Songnian’s residence on the day of the snowfall. “My elder brother also said — in all these years, he had never seen anyone so composed in the old gentleman’s presence. He said he finally understood how to get along with his uncle.”
The Marchioness laughed. “So that is the story.”
Zhù Ying said, “I happened to catch him in a good mood.”
Zheng Marquis said, “Come now — when has he ever been in a good mood?”
In the midst of laughter, Zheng Ling arrived home. She looked markedly more mature than on her wedding day, slightly thinner, and positively radiant. The words she spoke upon returning home had a somewhat formal, official quality — greeting her elders, then speaking with her younger siblings. When she saw Zhù Ying, she called out delightedly: “Third Brother. You didn’t come last year, so I was sure you would come this year!”
Zheng Marquis and Zheng Xi, father and son, did not put on airs or reproach her for running back to her family home; instead they asked with genuine concern how Zheng Ling planned to spend the New Year, while Yue Miaojun inquired what her son-in-law was doing today.
Zheng Ling replied: “I was just going to mention — he was invited by the Ying Prince for wine. Apparently some foreign envoys this year brought merchants for the New Year tribute, and those merchants brought exotic female musicians; the prince invited him for a preview. Is there not enough to watch at New Year? Really.”
Zhù Ying said: “The New Year period is simply busy — every princely household is like this.”
Zheng Xi said: “Is that so?”
“You haven’t heard? With so many people gathered in the capital now, and so many who know each other, you could point to anyone on the streets of this city and find some connection within a few turns. It’s a tangle.”
Zheng Xi said: “Petty scheming.”
Zheng Ling said: “Father, who exactly are you talking about?”
“All right, all right, I’ll say no more. Daughters — once they grow up, one cannot speak freely around them or they take offense. Come, let us men go over there and leave this place to them. Third Fellow, you see, don’t you? There is trouble in store when daughters grow up.”
Zhù Ying followed him to the study. The two sat down, and Zheng Xi asked: “Has anyone come to see you?”
Zhù Ying said: “Not many so far — two at this point, possibly more to come. These people are all rather interesting; they never speak directly, but must first establish rapport. Yesterday it was Meng Hong; tonight I am expected by Dai Ying.”
“The Wei Prince and the Tang Prince? You cannot handle them? And you have already come to me?”
Zhù Ying said: “Have you not always known me? I have never encountered anything like this before. I have muddled through to now entirely because others looked down on me. I am a shrimp — perhaps I have grown a little from soaking in the water, but I am still a shrimp, and I am frightened.”
Zheng Xi laughed without stopping. “Who speaks of themselves that way? There is nothing to fear.”
Zhù Ying said: “I am not speaking falsely — I truly have been a shrimp. Now I have grown a little, but still not large enough. An official posted away from the capital, not yet knowing what comes next — I have no sense of solid footing. When it comes to the streets and alleys of this city, I could be away ten years and still pick up where I left off. But inside the great households — I know nothing of that world.”
“You cannot always avoid the great households!” Zheng Xi said. “That world is not so difficult — come back and you will see.”
“Come back? Not transferred somewhere else?”
Zheng Xi said: “You want to keep wandering? If you do not come back now, this capital will grow even more foreign to you.”
“Then it is still a matter of waiting out one’s time in the ranks.”
“What is wrong with waiting? Everyone must do it. The earlier you do it, the better for you.”
Zhù Ying said frankly: “I fear that if I come back, I will not be able to navigate this chaos. The capital is one great grinding stone.”
Zheng Xi said: “Then be the grinding stone. It is only the princely factions. The princes must still look to the ministers. As for His Majesty’s sons — some are merely stirring things up; not all of them are without merit. What you yourself must not do is lose your footing, and then you will be able to see clearly.”
Zhù Ying said: “Then you — whom have you settled on? Not the imperial grandson, I hope? What preparations are needed?”
Zheng Xi, not bothering with platitudes, said bluntly: “Not him.”
“Oh?”
“He is useless. If anyone surnamed Ding contacts you, pay them no mind.”
Zhù Ying said: “Understood. What about the others? Should I continue accepting no one’s overtures?”
She pressed the question as carefully as she could; she was well versed in matters below, but the upper tier was entirely uncharted for her. She had read histories by the cartload and knew that beneath every recorded event lay a multitude of schemes buried in shadow.
Take Shang Peiji — outsiders would only say his wife had the bad luck for her servant to run into the prefect at the Wuzhou Guildhall, and that he walked out clutching a string of sticky rice dumplings, his career ruined. No one knew that Zhù Ying had despised him long before, had gone to the Guildhall deliberately, and that First Young Master Xiang had already lodged a veiled complaint with her.
Zheng Xi said: “After accepting — what will you do? You have not yet returned. For now, listen to His Majesty; if His Majesty has not made his position known, be close to no one. Once you return, we can discuss further. Which one do you think is best?”
“I don’t know any of them well.”
“You need not.”
“If I were choosing — the imperial grandson would be the most advantageous, but unfortunately that is not something you can arrange. So the advantage disappears.”
The Crown Prince’s consort was surnamed Ding, but the current imperial grandson was not her birth son — the boy’s birth mother had entered religious life as a female Daoist. The emperor was young and untested; from a minister’s perspective, that was not entirely bad.
The precondition was that the “emperor” must be that child.
In a succession struggle, holding a small child as one’s piece was not the worst of hands. But if the child’s supporters were not capable, one should abandon the position early — they would invite disaster. A young child could not possibly be separated from his mother. The person holding the imperial grandson was the Crown Prince’s consort. Zheng Xi had already taken the blame for her on one occasion.
Zheng Xi said: “You see it fairly clearly. What about the others?”
“From this distance I cannot see clearly. If you ask me, I can only say I would like to see how they draw people in, and how far they can draw them.”
Zheng Xi smiled. “You expect private affairs to be told to you? What you can see is only what is played openly, and anyone playing openly right now is a great fool. You must come back — stop thinking about serving another three-year term. A first child is a precious thing; the father must first secure himself before he can protect that first child.”
Zhù Ying said: “Understood.”
—
Zhù Ying could not extract a definitive answer from Zheng Xi, and she truly could not make out where Zheng Xi stood in the matter.
That afternoon she made another round through the capital, calling once at Luo Sheng’s residence to thank him for looking after Su Zhe and the others. The Yongping Princess’s residence had a constant stream of carriages; Luo Sheng was even busier than he had been at the Court of Foreign Affairs. Zhù Ying found no special reception there — she sent in her card, saw that the crowd of visitors was too large, and left.
By evening, Dai Ying arrived.
He too brought gifts. Not as extravagant as Meng Hong’s. Zhù Ying likewise declined to accept them.
Dai Ying said: “You are a minister of the court, and I come to make demands of you — that is overbearing and rude of me. If His Highness knew, he would certainly reproach me for it.”
“I have always envied people who can study,” Zhù Ying said. “I myself had almost no books when I was young, and I used to think — if I ever had money, I would not be stingy. Letting those who wish to study have books to read has been my wish.”
Dai Ying absolutely refused.
Zhù Ying said: “Then give these things to whatever temple or monastery is distributing porridge.”
Dai Ying sighed repeatedly, praised Zhù Ying at some length. Zhù Ying said: “I am ashamed — it is not for others’ sake. I simply wish to feel at ease in my own heart.”
Dai Ying bowed. “My lord is truly a model for people like us.”
They talked for a while longer. Seeing that the conversation had nowhere further to go, and taking the books, Dai Ying graciously took his leave.
Before the New Year, Zhù Ying had contact with only these two men from the princely households. In the blink of an eye, New Year’s Eve arrived.
Zhù Ying had the privilege of dining at the palace; after dinner she returned home to observe the new year, and the next morning went very early to the court for the New Year’s audience. Su Zhe and the others had shown their faces briefly before the emperor and attracted a small degree of attention. After the audience, Zhù Ying took them around to pay calls, fulfilling her promise to show them more of the city’s excitement.
That day Su Zhe did not want to return to the Court of Foreign Affairs; the other young ones felt the same. Zhù Ying brought them back to her own home. Lang Rui and the others were arranged to share Zhang Xiangu’s room with Zhù Lian, and Su Zhe moved into Huajie’s room.
Su Zhe looked around with curiosity. “This place is so small.”
Zhù Ying said: “I am poor.”
Su Zhe laughed, thinking she was joking. The villa outside was large, and the prefect’s yamen was also spacious — no matter how you looked at it, Zhù Ying did not seem like a poor person. Su Zhe said: “On the New Year, one is not supposed to say inauspicious things. You clearly mean ‘frugal.'”
Zhù Ying said: “If you say so. So — how have you been keeping?”
Su Zhe said: “These past few days people keep asking about the literacy songs and the like. A’Weng, why do the people of the capital look as though they have never seen the world? They don’t even know the literacy songs?”
Zhù Ying said: “They are not coveting the literacy songs — the emperor likes them. Let me teach you a lesson when we get back: King Chu liked slim waists. His Majesty has also seen fine things, and the coursebook — by now he has most likely set it away and stopped looking at it.”
“Then—”
“Do not ask him to return it. Let him keep it — it is perfectly fine.”
“All right. But what if someone asks me for a copy?”
“What sort of people?”
“The people staying at the Court of Foreign Affairs.”
“You do not have one on hand, so tell them honestly you do not. These people, after a while, will forget about it and run after whatever new fancy the emperor has taken up.”
“Then was all our effort wasted?”
Zhù Ying patted her on the head. “How could it be wasted? I have made many people aware this coursebook exists.” Once awareness was established, spreading it would be much easier. The court was unlikely to issue an order to promote the literacy coursebook; it would be enough if a portion of the prefects paid it somewhat more attention.
Su Zhe still did not quite follow, but this did not stop her from storing the lesson away, and then happily going off with Zhù Ying to pay New Year’s calls.
The one place Zhù Ying always visited at New Year was the Zheng Marquis’s residence. Unsurprisingly, she found there a clearly displeased Shu Yan, Bai Qingzhi, and Liu Chang sitting together, with Zheng Yi and Wen Yue seated across from them; all five were in Zheng Xi’s study, the two camps separated by a visible divide.
—