◎ Autumn Banquet ◎

Three days later, Qu You received an invitation from Madam Gao, wife of Chief Chancellor Gao Ze.

She hadn’t been married to Zhou Tan for long, and had never found the time to attend the various banquets and gatherings—the women of the inner households in the capital loved a good gathering, with new banquet invitations arriving every few days.

In truth, it wasn’t that Qu You had no time at all; it was simply that, whether because of Zhou Tan’s reputation or her own status, no one had ever sent her an invitation before now.

It was the eighth day of the ninth month, the eve of the Double Ninth Festival.

On the day of the Double Ninth itself, there would be a palace banquet within the inner court, and mountain-climbing outings and ancestral rites in the capital’s outskirts—gatherings of the women’s households never quite came together on that day, so the chrysanthemum banquets of autumn were usually held the day before. Qu You, bringing He Xing and Shui Yue along, was led by a maidservant at the entrance of the Gao residence to a seat in a corner of the gathering.

Chief Chancellor Gao Ze’s wife came from the Chengping Marquis household. Cheerful by nature, she often set up porridge stalls to give to the poor and was well liked among the women of the capital’s inner households. Her autumn banquet drew nearly every noblewoman and lady of standing in the capital, aside from the family members closely allied with Fu Qingnian, who stood opposed to Gao Ze. Qu You’s mother, Yin Xiangru, being frail, rarely attended such gatherings, and Qu You herself was young and had little standing of her own, so she was seated for now at the far end of the table.

Seeing her take her seat, Madam Gao’s expression shifted, and she came over herself to greet her. “You You, it’s been so long since you’ve shown your face—come, let me have a look at you.”

It seemed that Madam Gao had known the original body’s frequent encounters with her eldest daughter, Gao Yunyue, at past banquets. Qu You bowed. “Aunt Gao, things have kept me busy of late—it’s been a long time. I heard you haven’t been sleeping well recently, so I brought two jars of mulberry paste I made myself. I hope you won’t mind.”

Before coming, she’d spent a long while wondering what to bring, and had been lucky enough to learn from Zhou Tan that Madam Gao often suffered from headaches and insomnia.

Madam Gao raised an eyebrow, rather surprised. “You You, how thoughtful. Last time I saw you, you were still unmarried—now you’re already carrying yourself like the mistress of a household.”

After Qu You had made her name at a banquet trading poems with Gao Yunyue, Madam Gao had met her twice more. She’d always had talent and looks, if not much worldly grace—but this time around, there was clearly something different about her.

Thinking this, Madam Gao asked one more question. “You fell into the water and were ill for so long before your wedding—are you fully recovered now?”

The “falling into the water” Madam Gao referred to was, in fact, the moment Qu You had transmigrated. Qu You answered, “Thank you for your concern, Aunt—I’ve fully recovered, and even put on a little weight.”

Madam Gao laughed at that, patting her shoulder. Just then a maidservant came in from outside the hall; Madam Gao, apparently needed elsewhere, gave a few instructions and left with her.

The hall, arranged with long tables along a winding stream, was left full of women, all casting various assessing glances at Qu You.

Most of the looks carried mockery. Qu You swept a glance around and thought to herself—in their eyes, showing her face in public and consorting with courtesans was an act of rebellion they couldn’t even imagine committing. For an ordinary noblewoman to do such a thing, whatever the reason, would mean ruin of reputation and no one daring to associate with her again.

But Madam Gao herself had just treated her with considerable warmth, and everyone had seen it. Though Zhou Tan’s reputation wasn’t good, he was clearly being put to significant use these days—very much in favor—and the Chief Chancellor’s overtures toward him were plain for all to see; otherwise, he wouldn’t have sent Qu You an invitation at all.

And so, although the assembled women looked down on her somewhat, they mostly kept to their own conversations—no one approached her, and no one made trouble for her either.

That suited her fine. Qu You focused on studying the exquisite little dishes laid along the stream table. Everyone had a cup of honeyed chrysanthemum tea for the Double Ninth chrysanthemum banquet; the main feast hadn’t officially begun yet, so the dishes were all cold appetizers—things like golden chrysanthemum mixed with dried tofu, and chrysanthemum-scented ruyi rolls. She tried a few and found them refreshing and delightful, quite to her liking.

Some of the more experienced elder ladies knew that saying less was wiser, but the young woman sitting directly across from Qu You couldn’t quite hold her tongue. Seeing Qu You absorbed in tasting the food, she let out a scornful little laugh—not too loud, not too soft, just enough for Qu You to hear clearly: “Coming from such a low, small household, no wonder she doesn’t understand proper manners.”

A woman beside her, on good terms with her, hastily tugged at her sleeve and whispered, “That’s Vice Minister Zhou’s family.”

She replied under her breath, “That Vice Minister Zhou is famous for being fickle and dissolute—haven’t you heard about his romantic escapades from a while back? He drove her right out into the streets—clearly he doesn’t protect her at all. In the end, it just comes down to her household being too low. Vice Minister Zhou must be thoroughly displeased with this match.”

The earlier remarks hadn’t been loud, and the elder ladies seated at the head of the table hadn’t caught them, assuming it was just the young women exchanging pleasantries. Qu You set down her jade chopsticks and looked up. “And you are?”

The maidservant beside the young woman answered, “My lady is the wife of Lord Li of the Left Forest Guard, and the daughter of Grand Master Gong of the Court of Imperial Entertainments.”

Lord Li of the Left Forest Guard—that surname was unusual. She recalled Li Hongyu mentioning it once; this Left Forest Guard should be his elder brother, which would make the woman before her his sister-in-law.

Li Hongyu had been sent in to work under Liang An, which meant the Li family likely had good relations with Fu Qingnian. But if this Lady Gong was attending a banquet at the Gao residence, it meant they weren’t entirely aligned with the Chancellor’s faction either—there were plenty of middle-ground factions in the current court struggle, and the Li family was one of them.

Thinking of Li Hongyu, Qu You found it a little funny—there were plenty of women at this table with far higher standing than the one across from her, and all of them knew to hold their tongues. Only this Lady Gong was as reckless as Li Hongyu—truly, like brother, like sister-in-law.

Seeing Qu You quietly laughing to herself and not responding to her, Gong Yuying assumed it was mockery. She turned her eyes and abruptly addressed a friend beside her, her voice raised a little. “Sister, you won’t have heard—a servant I recently took on mentioned the strangest thing, and I wanted to ask Lady Zhou about it—”

Several people had already turned to look. Qu You took a moment to register that “Lady Zhou” referred to her, then smiled pleasantly. “Ask away.”

“My servant said that Lady Zhou has the household staff cut back on kneeling ceremonies,” Gong Yuying said, swirling the tea in her cup, her expression somewhere between a smile and a smirk. “Now that really is something new. If there’s no distinction of status and rank in an entire household, no order at all—wouldn’t that throw everything into chaos? Lady Zhou, we’re both daughters of civil officials—why would you be so unfamiliar with proper etiquette?”

Her words carried a barbed insinuation, referring to the matter of kneeling rites, but underneath it all still lay the same mockery about Qu You associating with courtesans. Though the table carried on with its usual chatter, several women had already quietly set down their wine cups, wanting to see how Qu You would respond.

To everyone’s surprise, Qu You smiled gently at Gong Yuying, showing neither shame nor embarrassment. Instead, she changed the subject. “Let me call you Sister Gong, then, and ask you this—in your view, what exactly is proper etiquette?”

Gong Yuying startled, then answered seriously, “The Duke of Zhou established the rites of Zhou to distinguish the noble from the lowly, to order rank and status, and to make virtue clear. Surely a sister so well-read in the classics knows this?”

“Well said. Etiquette is virtue—what is proper and what is not, beyond the words of the sages, each person holds their own standard in their heart. For the state, ritual keeps order running smoothly; for the individual, ritual is a constant means of self-examination.” Qu You looked at her, speaking calmly. “Today, Sister, you may blame me for not understanding etiquette and bringing disorder to my household—but before I even called you ‘Sister,’ you pointed out another household’s internal affairs in front of everyone here. By your own strict moral standard, was that proper or improper?”

Her voice wasn’t loud, and her tone was even gentler than before. Gong Yuying listened, stunned, momentarily at a loss for words. “I…”

“I know you truly pity me, Sister, and don’t want my reputation harmed because of this. What I did did indeed break with convention.” Before she could respond, Qu You shifted her tone, speaking with great sincerity. “But even the sages held compassion for those beneath them. Everyone has it hard in their own way—I’m merely a woman of the inner household, confined within one residence, unable to help the whole world. I do what I can, and if there are mistakes, I hope for your understanding.”

She rose and bowed. The table fell silent for a moment; Gong Yuying couldn’t get a single word out. Turning her head, she noticed a woman in a lake-blue dress standing at the bottom of the hall—it took her a moment to place her, but it was, she realized, Gao Ze’s eldest daughter, the famed beauty of the capital, Gao Yunyue.

Though Gao Yunyue was as famous as Qu You, their backgrounds were worlds apart—wherever she went, she was surrounded by admirers. She’d been standing by the door frame listening for some time, and only after Qu You finished speaking did she step forward and offer a graceful bow, her tone proud and a touch cold. “My respects to the elders present.”

As Gao Ze’s legitimate daughter, even her hint of arrogance drew no one’s contempt. Qu You noticed her only now, taking in her clothing with a glance, and immediately confirmed this must be the Gao Yunyue said to rival the original body in reputation.

So beautiful. Ye Liuchun had an uncommon bearing about her, but even she paled slightly next to Gao Yunyue in looks alone. Qu You stared, unable to look away. After receiving a few flattering remarks, Gao Yunyue turned her gaze to her. “I lost to Lady Zhou at the last banquet, and promised to invite her to view flowers. Mother will be back soon—please, everyone, be patient a little longer.”

“Let’s go.”

Qu You hurried to follow.

He Xing and Shui Yue trailed after them. Gao Yunyue walked quickly and ignored her for a while; Qu You slowed her pace and said quietly, pleased with herself, “Well? Didn’t I handle that rather well just now?”

He Xing said quietly, head lowered, “My lady, I didn’t quite understand what you said, but I know it was you looking out for us.”

Beside her, Shui Yue nodded, her eyes reddening.

Qu You patted her shoulder. “You two go on ahead. I’ll have a word with Miss Gao.”

Gao Yunyue walked along the long covered corridor; once He Xing and Shui Yue had left, she turned around, plucked a nearly-wilted rose from the flowers to one side, and picked at its petals gloomily for a long moment before finally saying, “I lost to you.”

She scattered the petals in her hand and brushed off her fingers. “The whole business on the Imperial Street has been the talk of the town—you really made quite the splash. I’ve thought it over, and I couldn’t have done something like that. You… weren’t forced into it by Lord Zhou, were you?”

Qu You denied it at once. “No.”

Gao Yunyue let out a breath of relief. “I figured, knowing your temperament, if you didn’t want to go, you’d sooner smash your head against a wall than let your husband force you into it. So it really was as I thought.”

From the way she spoke, she must have been quite close with the original body.

Qu You had heard this name over and over by now. She’d worried before that Gao Yunyue might resent her for stealing the spotlight and be hard to get along with, but it seemed she’d been reading too much into palace intrigue—the two of them had a history of trading poems together, and were likely genuinely fond of one another.

While Qu You was still thinking this over and hadn’t answered, Gao Yunyue went on, “When your father Qu Cheng was implicated, I sent people to bring you silver. Your mother told me you’d forgotten a lot of things after falling into the water—do you still remember our wager?”

She thought hard but couldn’t recall anything, so she just shook her head vaguely and said, “Thank you for your concern, Miss Gao.”

To her surprise, Gao Yunyue huffed. “Who’s concerned about you? I was worried you’d starve, and here you don’t even remember the wager. Fine, in a moment I’ll have Mother bring the guests over—at least then my carefully chosen flowers won’t go to waste.”

Only then did Qu You notice that Gao Yunyue had already led her through the long corridor, past the front hall where guests were being entertained, and into a quiet pavilion in the back garden, where nearly a hundred pots of autumn chrysanthemums in every color were arranged—some varieties Qu You had never even seen before, clearly rare and precious types.

“Last time we drew flower lots, and you picked the line ‘When autumn comes on the ninth day of the ninth month, my flower blooms and all others wither’—I laughed that you had no such lofty spirit, and you made a bet with me to prove it.” Seeing her blank expression, Gao Yunyue reminded her, growing more irritated with herself as she spoke. “Now you’ve forgotten it entirely, but you’ve still gone and shown me. As promised, I’ll give you these hundred pots of precious autumn chrysanthemums—have someone carry them back when you return.”

Qu You blinked, a little startled. “This… I’m afraid I won’t have enough hands to carry them all.”

Gao Yunyue glared at her again.

Gao Yunyue was half a year younger than the original body. Qu You reached out and looped her arm through Gao Yunyue’s, leaning close to her affectionately as they admired the pavilion together, showering it with praise. Gao Yunyue was clearly quite pleased by this, her expression softening at once, and the two of them walked back together through the garden toward the hall.

Qu You pinched a fold of her lake-blue sleeve and said with a smile, “Blue really suits you. This must be the fashionable ripple-weave gauze of the capital—I’ve never seen anyone wear it better than you.”

Gao Yunyue said, “You’ve forgotten so much, but somehow you’ve gotten more likable than before.”

A fragment of memory suddenly flashed through Qu You’s mind—the other woman in light blue gauze, fluttering fiercely in the wind, a look passing between them full of admiration and awe. She vaguely recalled that Gao Yunyue disliked wearing gold and silver jewelry, except for one long jade hairpin—and then, in that blurred memory, the hairpin abruptly shattered.

Qu You gave a start and instinctively glanced up—and sure enough, saw that Gao Yunyue was indeed wearing a long jade hairpin.

Gao Yunyue asked, puzzled, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Still shaken, Qu You held onto her arm.

Gao Yunyue, somewhat mollified, walked on beside her, saying awkwardly, “Last time I saw you, you were still unmarried—it’s strange to think you got married so quickly. Is Lord Zhou treating you well?”

“He is,” Qu You answered immediately.

“Good, then,” Gao Yunyue said, not doubting her at all, chattering on. “Father’s always wanted me married off early—he couldn’t get me married to the Crown Prince, so now he’s looking at other members of the imperial family… What’s good about marrying into a family like that, watching helplessly one day as your husband takes concubines, unable to say a word about it? I’ve been at odds with him lately, can’t even sleep properly.”

Qu You saw that her complexion did indeed look a little haggard. “I brought your mother some mulberry paste—you can have some too when you’re free. Let me invite you out sometime; I have a friend who runs a medicinal food shop, I’ll have her send you some recipes to help you recover.”

Gao Yunyue agreed readily. “That sounds lovely.”

She paused, then suddenly said, “Do you know about that difficult case your husband is handling?”

“You mean the Liu case—the woman found in the well?”

“That’s the one.”

Qu You made a vague sound of acknowledgment, then asked carefully, “Did you know the Liu family?”

Gao Yunyue let out a soft “ah,” and said quietly, “You probably don’t remember, but Liu Lianxi… was once an old friend of ours.”

“She didn’t like gatherings much—we only really crossed paths at a golf-ball game a year ago. She wrote beautiful poetry, gentler than anyone I’ve ever known. She married into the Du family, and wasn’t gone a year before she died.”

Qu You fell silent too. The two of them passed beneath several maple trees in the garden; the autumn wind was bleak, and a few crimson maple leaves drifted across her shoulder.

The case Gao Yunyue mentioned was the urgent one He San had reported to Zhou Tan three days earlier. Du Gaojun, son of Left Grand Master of Remonstrance Du Hui, had reported to the Capital Prefecture that his wife, of the Liu family, had been found dead in the back courtyard well. At the time, Zhou Tan had been busy with the case of the fall from the tower, and after a word from Fu Qingnian, the case hadn’t been transferred to the Ministry of Justice.

The Capital Prefecture had investigated for three days and arrested a guard from the Du household. The guard confessed that he’d been caught by the lady of the house stealing from his master, and in a panic had strangled her and thrown her into the well. With witness and physical evidence both in hand, the guard had even taken his own life in prison before the trial could take place.

The case was riddled with suspicious points; Liu Lianxi’s mother hadn’t believed a word of it, but after making a scene at the Capital Prefecture three times with nowhere left to turn, she’d swallowed her grief and let the matter drop.

Not until Qu You had beaten the petition drum did Liu’s mother, encouraged, write out her petition in blood and resubmit it to the Ministry of Justice—stating only that the case had been closed too hastily before. But since the Ministry of Justice hadn’t even passed the case through the Court of Judicial Review, this was procedurally improper, and on those grounds she demanded a retrial. The matter grew into a scandal, and Emperor De had ordered Zhou Tan to personally take over the case at court that morning. Gao Yunyue had heard of it as well.

“‘Helplessly the fallen flowers go…'” Qu You murmured, lost in thought. “Women are more fragile than flowers—they don’t even need to be picked; once they fall from the branch, they’re left to others’ mercy. I keep thinking of how the women of Fangxin Pavilion drifted the same way—their lives and deaths never their own to decide.”