Lady Xiahou sat folding wontons. Every so often she would look up at Gao Xining and break into a wide, helpless smile, and then a moment later look up again and smile all over again.

The old lady had a very warm and easy temperament. In her own words, the whole of her life could be summed up in five characters.

*Half resigned, half not.*

In truth that was how most people in this world faced the fortunes life dealt them — and if anything, most fell a little short of the old lady’s standard. If you could refuse even half of what fate handed you, you would have far fewer sorrows and hardships. Most people could only manage to refuse about three parts in ten.

And what made it all the more dispiriting was that the seven parts they accepted were the things that truly mattered, while the three parts they refused were the small things. Given a choice between *what should I be doing with my life* and *what should I eat today*, the former fell into the resigned seven, and only the latter into the defiant three.

Though one shouldn’t complain too loudly — for many people couldn’t even resist fate in something as trivial as what they ate. They might be nine parts resigned, and the one remaining part was not so much resistance as simple unwillingness.

The old lady had lived out her remaining years on that half-resignation. Prince Yu was a man she had chosen herself — and even if it all ended in estrangement, she had chosen it, and so she made her peace with it.

Xiahou Zuo was the child raised by her defiant half, and so he had been headstrong from birth. Whatever share of that half-refusal he had inherited from his mother, added to his own, made for the full ten parts.

Li Chi too was a man who refused to bow to fate, and that was why the old lady liked him very much. Sometimes she would compare the two of them, and she thought that in some ways, Chier might be a cut above her own Zhuo — mainly in that Chier’s head was perhaps a little sharper.

The old lady had also said that Li Chi’s childhood name was the finest name in all the world.

*Diu’er* — *a little bit more than anyone else in everything*. What did that make him?

The old lady said: unmatched under heaven.

“Child, what do you think of Chier?”

The old lady finally could not hold herself back from asking. As every mother in the world would, when faced with a girl like Gao Xining, she couldn’t help worrying that her silly boy was this lacking and that lacking and couldn’t possibly measure up.

And so you could only hope the girl was a little bit blind.

What else was there to hope for, after all?

“He’s… quite good.”

Gao Xining felt she was close to losing her composure. The old lady’s eyes alone were enough to undo her. She had almost never known a mother’s love — her parents had died when she was very young, and what affection her grandfather showed was always tempered by a certain strictness.

But the old lady was different. The old lady’s eyes held something like doting — the kind that said *whatever you want, I’ll move heaven and earth to get it for you, and any wretch out there can bully heaven itself but he’d better not lay a finger on my precious girl.*

“Good, he is not.”

The old lady said, “That boy still has far, far too many failings. You’ve only just arrived today, but I can already see it — a thousand and one things wrong with him. And yet every one of those thousand and one failings happens to be matched by a thousand and one things that are exactly right about you. If you could help him a little, that would be more good fortune than he’s earned in several lifetimes.”

Gao Xining’s face turned a deep, thorough red. She kept her head down, unable even to find words.

It struck her suddenly that as a matchmaker, she herself was hopelessly outclassed. There was no way she could have said any of that.

The old lady had the superior technique.

As the old lady folded wontons she went on, “I know — the old saying always goes that a marriage should be between families of equal standing. What do you think of that?”

Gao Xining thought for a moment before answering, “It doesn’t have to be, not necessarily.”

“No.”

The old lady shook her head and looked at Gao Xining seriously. “Child, it really should be, and here is why. Don’t be in a hurry to argue with me — hear me out.”

She set down the wonton wrapper, took Gao Xining’s hands in hers, and spoke with care. “If it is unequal, there will always be friction of some kind. Even if the two of you don’t mind, the people around you never stop talking, and that not-minding gradually changes as the years go by, ground down by rice and salt and cooking oil.”

“Other families eat meat three times a month, but you’ve gone and married a poor young man, and in a year you can’t afford it once. You come from a good family and chose to come here anyway, and the relatives near you grieve to see your life this way, while the distant ones laugh at you.”

“A life together isn’t all tender words and sweetness from morning to night. What makes a life good is when it is good. And when it isn’t good, people can quarrel over a single mouthful of rice…”

She looked into Gao Xining’s eyes and said, “But what I mean by equal standing is not only about the previous generation. Child, I would not deceive you — what I want to tell you is this: if you were to marry Chier, you would not be getting a bad deal. And when I say that, I’m not just throwing you a careless word of flattery. In my eyes, a man who has nothing to offer but saying *I treat you well* is worth nothing at all…”

She paused and then continued, “Say there’s only one piece of salted turnip left in the house — I’m the man, I don’t eat it, I leave it for you. Is that moving?”

She shook her head. “No. Salt-turnip sentiment is no sentiment at all. When I say you would not be getting a bad deal, I mean this: everything Chier is working toward right now, all of it, is so that one day you can have the equal footing that marriage needs. His starting point may be far behind others’, but he works ten times, a hundred times as hard to give you a good life — *that* is treating you well. Not leaving you a piece of salted turnip.”

She smiled a little. “If you were my own daughter, I would still think long and hard about whether to let you marry someone like Chier. As a mother, I would likely not live to see him succeed — but the changes Chier’s efforts bring about will outrun even a mother-in-law’s patience.”

Gao Xining listened to all of this, and for a long moment could not find a single word to say.

The old lady still held Gao Xining’s hands, and said with the weight of long feeling, “If I did not truly believe that Chier would make something of himself, I would not say a word of this. A girl as good as you — why would you have to marry him? If you must choose from within this family, wouldn’t Zhuo be a better match?”

Gao Xining shook her head quickly. “Not good, not good, definitely not.”

The old lady laughed heartily, and then made a sound of mock offense. “So you’re saying my own son Zhuo is not as good as Chier.”

Gao Xining didn’t know what to say to that, but the old lady laughed again and said, “Don’t squirm. Zhuo is, in truth, a tiny bit lacking.”

It was those words — *a tiny bit* — that finally made Gao Xining laugh out loud.

The old lady stood. “Let me go and boil your wontons. And while you eat, think over what your godmother has said. One more thing you should remind yourself: don’t let anything I’ve said make you think Chier is the right one for you just like that — of course your godmother will argue in his favor. You have to ask yourself first whether that foolish boy is worth it…”

The old lady sighed. “Ah, after all I’ve said, I still think that fool doesn’t deserve you. What a problem.”

—

Meanwhile, at the Yun Studio teahouse.

The young girl Xia Xi saw Cloud Auntie return and knew the information she had been sent to gather was ready. She rose, excused herself to the guests with a smile, then walked at a measured pace into the back courtyard of the teahouse.

Cloud Auntie lowered her voice. “Young Miss, you haven’t gotten the date wrong — in two days, it really is that woman’s birthday. Every year there are celebrations at the residence; this year should be more lavish than usual, so…”

Xia Xi said, “So I need to get into Prince Yu’s residence that day.”

Cloud Auntie’s expression grew conflicted. She knew she should not let the young miss go — but she also knew there was a vendetta lodged in the young miss’s heart that she could not set aside, and that these past few years of relentless, grueling practice had been aimed at one thing: killing that woman.

“Let me find a way.”

Cloud Auntie said, “But Young Miss, promise me one thing. If you truly get into Prince Yu’s residence that day — don’t act on impulse. If there is no clear opportunity, don’t move rashly. The residence is heavily guarded, and the skilled fighters there are beyond counting. If something goes wrong—”

Xia Xi smiled. “Cloud Auntie, I suppose I just won’t drink that day.”

Cloud Auntie gave a pained smile. “How can you still joke about it.”

“Don’t worry, Cloud Auntie. I’ve planned this out hundreds and thousands of times. The reason I didn’t go to see anyone when I came back this time was precisely that I didn’t want my resolve disturbed. The more people you see, the more things you have to lose, and the more you have to lose, the harder it is to hold firm. So don’t try to talk me out of it anymore, all right?”

Cloud Auntie nodded. “I’ll go into the residence with you.”

Xia Xi smiled and nodded. “Cloud Auntie is the best.”

Cloud Auntie let out a quiet sigh and said nothing more.

After a moment she said, “I’ll go and check over everything one more time.”

Xia Xi smiled softly to herself. She watched Cloud Auntie walk into the back courtyard, then turned and made her way back into the main teahouse, taking her seat as if nothing had happened. Yet in that moment, looking out at the guests around her, a thought surfaced suddenly: that man named Li Chi — when he sat here, what was going through his mind?

Just thinking about that fellow…

Her foot hurt.

—

Youzhou. The general’s residence.

Youzhou General Luo Geng looked at Military Commissioner Zeng Ling with an awkward, self-deprecating smile. “Your Excellency’s words, I have taken to heart in full. I am under the Excellency’s command — the Excellency’s orders, I naturally should obey without question. Only…”

He said with some difficulty, “At present, the Black Wu forces have not withdrawn. They are still stirring up trouble on the steppe, and the steppe tribes, who cannot take on the Black Wu, turn around and make trouble for us. Every day there are raider attacks — our forces are already stretched thin…”

Zeng Ling’s expression hardened.

He looked at Luo Geng, on the verge of issuing a sharp reprimand — but then, abruptly, he smiled, his whole manner shifting to warmth.

He said with a genial smile, “General Luo, guarding Youzhou as you do, it is naturally difficult to pull away. Border affairs take precedence, and it is of course not easy to divert troops. However, I have heard that the general’s only son, young Luo Jing, has spent these past three years training a new cavalry force — several thousand men called the Tiger-Leopard Riders, said to be among the sharpest blades in the realm.”

He leaned forward slightly. “In my view, General Luo should remain here and hold the border. Let young Master Luo bring the Tiger-Leopard Riders back with me to Jizhou. That way, His Highness would be most pleased — and with His Highness’s pleasure, young Master Luo’s future would be assured. Otherwise…”

He smiled and left it there, lifting his teacup for a sip.

Luo Geng’s expression darkened. He was very nearly unable to hold his anger in check.

But just then, Luo Jing rose and said, “Father, since His Highness has issued a summons, your son should go. The Tiger-Leopard Riders have never had a chance to prove themselves in the field — this would at least be an opportunity to test them in action.”

Before Luo Geng could speak, Luo Jing continued, “Only, provisions here in Youzhou are also running short. The army’s grain supply has always come from Jizhou — Commissioner…”

Zeng Ling said at once, “No difficulty there. So long as young Master Luo brings the Tiger-Leopard Riders back with me to Jizhou, I’ll personally see to all matters of provisions.”

Luo Geng looked long at his only son. After a long silence, he let out a slow, heavy sigh.

“Very well. Take the Tiger-Leopard Riders and follow the Commissioner to Jizhou. But remember — do not act rashly. Think everything through three times before you act.”

Luo Jing bowed. “Father need not worry. Your son understands.”

Zeng Ling smiled. “General Luo, you may rest easy. His Highness would not truly put young Master Luo in harm’s way — the most likely plan is to keep him in Jizhou to hold the city.”

At those words, Luo Geng’s expression shifted. He looked at Zeng Ling, and in that half-smiling, half-opaque expression, he glimpsed something that did not sit quite right.

—

Jizhou.

Tang Pidi stood at the city gate, lifted his head, and looked up at the two large characters carved in stone above it. He let out a slow breath.

*I’m back.*

—