Gao Xining walked a few steps out the door, expecting that even the most oblivious boy would come running after her to apologize. But when she glanced back from the doorway, she found the infuriating creature still bent over his broom, sweeping away — his backside sticking up in the air in the most aggravating way imaginable.

She fought down the urge to march over and give that backside a good kick.

Fuming, she turned around and went back inside. She planted herself directly behind Li Diudiu and announced loudly, “Apologize to me!”

“What for?” Li Diudiu said, not even looking up.

“Doesn’t matter what for. You apologize.”

Li Diudiu sighed with the world-weary air of an old man. “Does your grandfather lose his temper with you a lot?”

Gao Xining hadn’t expected that question. It took her a moment to process it — and then she realized Li Diudiu was mocking her.

“You’re saying that because my grandfather vents his temper on me, I’m venting mine on you?”

She demanded.

Li Diudiu glanced back at her. “Aren’t you?”

“Then you should call me grandfather,” Gao Xining said with complete seriousness. “By your own logic, I should be your grandfather.”

Li Diudiu thought about it. There was a strange sort of logic to that. He turned to face her and said, equally seriously, “I don’t mind calling you that — but you’d have to treat me exactly the way your grandfather treats you.”

Gao Xining was stunned into silence.

“Do you… actually like being treated that way?” she asked.

The moment the words left her mouth, Li Diudiu had a vague feeling he had somehow come out on the losing end again.

Thwack.

Gao Xining gave him a solid kick on the backside. The soft, yielding impact was oddly satisfying. She put her hands on her hips and surveyed his work. “Look at this floor. What kind of sweeping do you call this? Random strokes everywhere — this alone tells me you have no discipline. And look at this desk over here — there’s still dust on it. Are you cleaning or just going through the motions? With this kind of careless attitude in everything you do, when you grow up and get married…”

Li Diudiu blinked. “Hmm?”

Gao Xining went red. “I mean — can you even hope to find a wife?”

Li Diudiu looked at her with a pitying expression. “You’ve got it rough too, haven’t you.”

Gao Xining’s curiosity won out. “Why did you say ‘too’?”

“Because I have a master who treats me just like your grandfather treats you.”

A sudden wave of fellow-feeling washed over Gao Xining. She had never hidden from Li Diudiu that she was Gao Shaowei’s granddaughter — she’d told him once before.

She stopped tormenting him and settled onto a desk, swinging her legs. “Tell me all about how rough you’ve got it.”

Sitting like that, in that posture — there was nothing about her that matched what Dachu considered proper conduct for a young lady of a good family. She was more like a young boy, and if she weren’t so pretty, you could put her in boys’ clothing and most people wouldn’t notice the difference.

“Don’t want to,” Li Diudiu said, sweeping. “But I do have something I’d like to ask your advice on.”

Gao Xining stopped sulking at once. “What is it?”

“At my age, what’s the best way to earn money?”

“Still on about buying a house,” she said, shaking her head. “I know a little of everything, but earning money isn’t something I’ve ever had to think about. It’s not in my world. If I went and asked my grandfather, he wouldn’t know either — he’s never had to think about it.”

“You know a little of everything?”

Li Diudiu suddenly looked up. “Me too, actually…”

A look of dawning realization spread across his face. He seemed genuinely pleased. “Thank you.”

Gao Xining thought: I exposed Sun Rugong’s schemes for you and didn’t get a single word of thanks — but some throwaway remark earns a thank you. This poor creature must have something wrong with him. He’s never going to find a wife.

And in that moment, Gao Xining made a solemn resolution: she would find a wife for Li Diudiu. No matter what, she would see it done.

She felt the weight of this great responsibility settle onto her shoulders, and with it came a certain sense of noble purpose.

Thus, in the manner of a devoted mother, she said to Li Diudiu, “Look at you — obsessing over money at your age. Study hard. There will be plenty of time to think about money when you’re older.”

Li Diudiu shook his head. “I don’t have time. I have at most two months.”

“Two months?”

Gao Xining stared at him the way you’d stare at something impossible — or perhaps the way a mother stares at a child who has just announced the most absurd scheme imaginable. “You want to earn two hundred taels in two months? Do you think silver falls from the trees like autumn leaves?”

“Worth trying,” Li Diudiu said.

He had given his master five taels. The barely-passable inn where they stayed ran about two taels a month — calling it an inn was generous; it was really more of a boarding house. The proper inns with decent rooms charged several hundred coins a night, and the grander ones went for a tael of silver a night — no way he and his master could afford that.

“Maybe I’ll perform for money,” Li Diudiu said thoughtfully. “Like… calligraphy?”

In this era, literacy was far from universal, so there was indeed money to be made in writing. The most accessible option was writing letters for people, though it paid poorly — ten or so copper coins per letter, and no one would pay more.

Seeing Gao Xining not respond, he asked another question: “Do you know much about Dachu’s laws?”

Gao Xining’s expression turned wary. “What are you planning?”

“I just wanted to ask,” Li Diudiu said, “how many years you’d get for selling forged paintings…”

Just as Gao Xining was about to talk him out of whatever he was thinking, the classroom door was kicked open with a tremendous bang. It slammed into the wall and swayed as though it might come off its hinges altogether.

Sun Biehe marched in with a group behind him. “Li Chi, you little—”

Then he saw Gao Xining glaring at him.

His expression changed instantly. He swallowed the rest of his sentence. When he spoke again, his tone had become almost pleasant.

“You little — uh — hard worker, you.”

Gao Xining frowned slightly. “What do you want?”

Sun Biehe immediately put on a smile. “Nothing at all! Absolutely nothing. I was just passing by, saw Li Chi still tidying up, and couldn’t help but come in to compliment him on his dedication.”

“Finished complimenting him?” Gao Xining asked.

“Quite finished. I’ll be on my way.”

Gao Xining pointed at the door. “Apologize to the door.”

Sun Biehe stared. “…What?”

“Do I need to repeat myself? Apologize to the door.”

Sun Biehe choked down his fury. In his head he was thinking: if your grandfather weren’t Gao Shaowei, I wouldn’t spare you a second glance. Yet outwardly, he kept every trace of resentment off his face. He turned politely toward the door, clasped his hands, and bowed. “My sincere apologies, Brother Door. I carelessly struck you just now and hope you will not take offense.”

Gao Xining hopped down from the desk and walked to the doorway. She examined Sun Biehe for a moment, then said, “Turn around.”

Sun Biehe turned to face the exit. “I’ll just be going then…”

Before he could finish, Gao Xining grabbed the door and slammed it firmly into his backside. Sun Biehe lurched forward, stumbling out into the corridor before he could catch himself.

“Now we’re even,” she said, dusting off her hands as she returned inside.

Li Diudiu gave her a thumbs up.

“Impressed?” Gao Xining grinned. “Go on, say something nice.”

“You’re quite the man,” Li Diudiu said.

Gao Xining stared at him for a long moment, then sighed — the same sigh a mother gives a hopeless child — and said with genuine concern, “How in the world is anyone ever going to marry someone like you? It seems terribly difficult. Terribly, terribly difficult…”

“Why do you keep saying no one will marry me?” Li Diudiu said. “Is that really such an urgent concern?”

Gao Xining leaned toward him. “How about this — let’s make a deal.”

Li Diudiu answered without thinking, “What deal? Are you offering to be my wife?”

Gao Xining froze, then immediately turned red with fury. “You shameless—!”

“What?” Li Diudiu said, blinking.

Her face was crimson now. Her grandfather had always impressed upon her the proper distance between men and women, and what Li Diudiu had just said was unmistakably flirtatious. If word got out, she’d never be able to face anyone. And if her grandfather heard, he’d have Li Diudiu thrown out of the academy on the spot.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” Li Diudiu said, bowing his head quickly. “It just came out — I didn’t think—”

Gao Xining, still flushed, said stiffly, “Don’t you ever say anything like that again.”

“I won’t, I won’t.”

She took a calming breath. “What I meant to say is: from now on, finding you a wife is my responsibility. I’ll make sure to find you a gentle and caring woman. And in exchange, you teach me martial arts.”

“Every day I’ll find somewhere to practice,” Li Diudiu said. “You can come watch.”

Gao Xining’s face lit up immediately. “Deal!”

Li Diudiu let out a long breath. He thought to himself: I really am a decent, upstanding person — and yet somehow I said something that shameless to a girl. Is that just who I am?

Surely not. His master had never taught him anything like that…

Wait.

That was exactly it, he realized. His master had never taught him that kind of thing precisely because it was the sort of thing that needed no teaching — it had simply come out naturally. Which meant he had a natural talent for shamelessness.

He felt a little troubled by this.

Gao Xining noticed his expression and consoled him. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I’ve already forgotten what you said — just don’t say it again.”

“Maybe I should swear an oath,” Li Diudiu said earnestly.

They were, after all, just children — one eleven, one thirteen — and children think differently from adults.

“I apologize for what I said,” Li Diudiu announced solemnly, “and I hereby swear: I will never, under any circumstances, marry you.”

Gao Xining immediately shook her head. “That’s not how oaths work. An oath has to have conditions — like ‘if I break this vow, then such and such will happen.’ You left that part out.”

Li Diudiu considered. “You’re right, that is how it’s supposed to go… All right then. If I ever marry you, I’ll be a little dog.”

Gao Xining nodded in approval. “Now that’s a proper oath.”

“Good. Then I’m counting on you for the future matter of my wife.”

Gao Xining waved her hand grandly. “Leave it to me. You won’t be disappointed.”

With that she turned and left, looking thoroughly pleased with herself, as though she had just secured an excellent bargain. Her ponytail swung left and right as she walked, and the sight of it was quite charming.

Li Diudiu watched her disappear into the distance and let out a long sigh of relief. He was clearly still an upright young man.

And perhaps just the slightest bit pleased with himself.

—