Lingbo left first, while Yanyan and Qinglan stayed behind to keep the Old Matriarch company for a while longer before heading back. They listened to Meng Guzi offer all manner of auspicious words — one moment saying Qinglan had great fortune but too heavy a heart, prone to making herself suffer, though things would improve after this year; the next saying that Yanyan had been born with a remarkable spirit, destined for honors beyond words. It was all flattering chatter, and no one took it to heart.

They set off at dusk. With the household caught up in a whirl of activity — the棣棠 banquet, the engagement banquet, two events tangled together — a young lady of no particular ability truly would have struggled to manage it all. So Qinglan had dispensed with the sedan chair entirely and walked back slowly with Yanyan, turning matters over in her mind as she went.

Yanyan was her usual self, carefree and light-spirited. One moment she was taking out the little golden Luohan the Old Matriarch had given her and turning it over in her hands; the next she was snapping off a branch of peach blossoms and asking Chun Ming whether it would bear peaches, and whether those peaches would taste good.

But they hadn’t walked far when Yanyan suddenly asked Qinglan: “Sister, why did A’Cuo seem unhappy after Second Sister said something to her?”

“Lingbo said something to A’Cuo? What did she say?” Qinglan had already half-guessed.

“Something about how A’Cuo shouldn’t be spending time alone with Wei Yushan, and that she’d been hiding it from Second Sister,” Yanyan said. “Second Sister made a joke that A’Cuo was growing up, and A’Cuo got upset.”

Qinglan gave a helpless smile.

“Oh, you.” She ruffled Yanyan’s hair. “A’Cuo is a young lady of a good family — she really shouldn’t be meeting with boys on her own. But A’Cuo has thin skin, and Lingbo shouldn’t have teased her. I’ll have a word with her later.”

She had taken it for nothing more than Yanyan’s childlike curiosity, but then Yanyan added: “But Second Sister herself meets with a man alone too — right there on our back lane.”

“Who? Master Dai?” Qinglan asked.

“No, someone who looked like a general. A Pei Zhao, I think — he’s very good-looking. Second Sister is with him often, and she even has Liu Ji bring things to him.” Yanyan’s face was a picture of pure innocence. “Second Sister talked with him for a very long time, and she seemed to cry too. Xiao Liu’er went with her, and Xiao Liu’er cried as well.”

Qinglan was instantly on guard.

“When was this?”

“Just a few days ago.” Yanyan thought for a moment. “It was the very day Second Sister got engaged!”

The Ye Family’s棣棠 banquet became one of the great social events of the capital that season.

People said that year’s flower-viewing season was a once-in-a-decade affair, and they were right. In the span of a single spring, winds had risen and clouds had churned. In the time between the Ye family’s engagement and the棣棠 banquet alone, a great many things had come to pass.

One of them was the death of young Master Chen Yaoqing of the Chen family. But his widow, Lu Wanyang, had vanished during the funeral rites, and all manner of rumors were circulating through the capital. Some said she had been overwhelmed by grief and taken to her bed. Others said the shock had been too great for her to show her face in public. There was also a rumor that she had committed some grave offense and nearly been put to death by secret imperial order, but had been spared through the joint efforts of the Pingjun Princely Household and Her Highness of the Central Palace — she had suffered some punishment, it was said, and been sent to live in confinement at the Chen family’s country estate, with the official story being that she had gone there to convalesce. Why a court official’s female relative would have faced a death sentence from the palace was likely connected to the incident at the Han family’s peach blossom banquet, given that it had touched upon the Prince of Rui.

All these families moved in the same world, so condolence calls had to be made. It was said that Master Chen’s hair had gone half-white by the time of the funeral rites, and Madam Chen had wept until she fainted. However many disasters Chen Yaoqing had caused in his lifetime — however often his father had cursed him as a wastrel while cleaning up after him — a father burying his son was still a father burying his son.

Another matter was the injury sustained by Marquis Cui of the Dingyuan Marquis Household. Many people found it difficult to understand how a man of Marquis Cui’s heroic reputation could have come to grief at the Han family’s banquet, and injured so badly at that — enough to alarm the palace and confine him to bed for many days. Fortunately, he had been left with no lasting ill effects.

Of course, that banquet had also brought consequences for its hostess. Han Yueqi had taken the blame for what was, in truth, an undeserved calamity. She was the lady of the house, after all. The spring imperial hunt had been stripped from both the Shen and Chen families and given directly to the He family. Madam He had been so stunned by this windfall dropping from the sky that she hadn’t known what to do with herself. Fortunately, the Pingjun Princess Consort had extended a helping hand and let slip that when the privilege of hosting the imperial hunt had been deliberated, the Pingjun Prince had also put in a good word for the He family. Madam He was so overcome with gratitude that she immediately attached herself to the Princess Consort’s cause, and even He Qingyi was taken in as the Princess Consort’s adopted daughter; the two households had since been in constant contact.

Han Yueqi herself felt no great loss over it. To have come through such a dangerous situation safely was already remarkable fortune. Besides, with Lu Wanyang utterly brought down, one of her greatest worries had been resolved. Losing the right to host the imperial hunt was, by comparison, a very small regret.

Because of all this, the棣棠 banquet on the fifteenth day of the second month was charged with undercurrents. Many had settled their hearts and prepared to watch closely that day for signs of how the capital’s tides of power would shift next.

The Ye family’s rise needed no explanation. They had long been on good terms with the Shen family. Four years earlier at the flower-viewing season, the three families — the Ye, the Han, and the Lu — had all competed: Ye Qinglan had fallen off the list against all expectations; Han Yueqi had taken first place, only to suffer a serious setback at the spring welcoming banquet; and Lu Wanyang had attracted the most sighs of all. So many ladies in the capital had watched her build herself up, then watched her crumble. Now she had vanished without a trace, her fate unknown.

It showed, clearly, that the arena of power among the ladies of great houses was no gentler than the world of court officials.

Now Ye Lingbo had arrived like a meteor, poised to become the young Madam Dai — a future of unlimited promise. Dai Yuquan had indeed treated this as his first great entrance onto the capital’s social stage. The Ye family’s foundation was already rich; add to that the Dai family’s century of enterprise in Jiangnan, and with the Ye family hosting the ladies’ banquet and the Dai family hosting the men’s engagement celebration, the combined event burned like a roaring fire decked with blooms, more brilliant than any of the great banquets held since the flower-viewing season had begun.

Because the Wutong Courtyard was too small, the Old Matriarch had authorized the main courtyard to be opened for receiving distinguished guests. The Ye family threw open their gates wide: from the main entrance through six successive ceremonial gates, the entire way was covered in crimson satin. The wealth on display was extraordinary — everything the capital’s markets had to offer was there in full extravagance. The serving women were uniformly dressed in brocade, and even the small heated alcoves set aside for the maids and matrons to rest in were furnished with sixteen-panel jade and stone screens.

As for the banquet itself, that goes without saying. The flower-viewing season only required two courses of food, but the Ye family had even prepared a full morning tea service, receiving guests with swallow’s nest congee and fish maw broth as the standard fare. The tea was picked before the Clear and Bright Festival; the pastries were from the Ye family’s own Ruyi Fang confectionery. Even the water in the finger bowls was steeped with the rose petals and Hangzhou chrysanthemums normally reserved for brewing tea. Many a thrifty matriarch who witnessed it had to sigh: “What a sin, what a waste.”

But there were also far more ladies who were themselves accustomed to luxury, and who therefore appreciated all the more deeply just how rich the Ye family’s resources were. Even the way they looked at Yanyan and A’Cuo was different now.

Han Yueqi, as a married lady, received guests in the outer hall on Qinglan’s behalf, while Qinglan herself received in the inner hall. The main courtyard offered a flowing banquet featuring the eight treasures of land and sea; the opera troupe invited had performed for the palace before, performing on two stages facing each other across the water pavilion. One stage put on a lively Heavenly Maiden Scatters Flowers for the older matriarchs — an auspicious choice. The other put on a fashionable Southern opera for the ladies and young misses.

The Grand Princess also gave the Ye family full face: the banquet opened at noon, but she arrived as early as the巳 hour. Qinglan led the Ye family’s womenfolk together with Han Yueqi to receive her, while Ye Lingbo, as the engagement banquet’s central figure — essentially half a bride — was by custom not to appear publicly, and remained in her heated alcove to have her hair and makeup done.

Her Highness the Grand Princess descended from her palanquin with graceful composure and placed her hand in Qinglan’s. By some reckoning, this was the first time this “mistress and subject” had made physical contact — which showed that Lingbo had not misjudged her. People always climb toward the powerful and step on those below; without today’s engagement banquet, such an opportunity would never have come.

Once the Grand Princess had taken her seat, Qinglan personally brought tea, which she passed to Madam Shen to offer to Her Highness. Those with discerning eyes could see it clearly: the Pingjun Princess Consort was the creature of the woman inside the palace, yet here she was being passed over in favor of Madam Shen for the honor of offering tea before the Grand Princess — a sign of estrangement, plain as day.

But the Grand Princess’s unsolicited overture of goodwill still caught people off guard.

“Today is a joyous occasion for the Ye family, and Qinglan’s tea is also very fine,” the Grand Princess offered a word of praise for Ye Qinglan. Everyone assumed she was doing it as a courtesy to Dai Yuquan — until it became clear she was using the compliment as a lead-in. She continued: “At the last peach blossom banquet, the young Madam Shen’s tea was also excellent. How fortunate Madam Shen is in her daughter-in-law.”

Madam Shen, naturally, smiled and thanked the Grand Princess for her kind words, and drew Han Yueqi over to be spoken to as well. Seeing that Secretary Qin was absent today, Han Yueqi understood perfectly where the Grand Princess’s sympathies lay.

So the interrogation at the previous banquet had been a test as well. The Pingjun Princess Consort had lost one weapon and traded it for another; was Her Highness the Grand Princess finally growing too restless to remain as she was? With Lu Wanyang’s latest scheme having nearly touched the Prince of Rui himself, and yet the woman still surviving with her life — the Central Palace clearly still had strength. How, then, could Her Highness the Grand Princess possibly sit easy?

And so Han Yueqi simply kept smiling and flattering Her Highness, and when the tea was finished and the Grand Princess asked, apparently in passing: “I hear the young Madam Shen has a daughter — how old is she? What is her name?”

“To answer Your Highness: she is three years old. She has no formal name; her milk name is A’Xing,” Han Yueqi replied. But being altogether too ambitious, she could not help adding: “The name was chosen by drawing upon Her Majesty the Empress’s good fortune, in hopes that she would be easy to raise.”

The Grand Princess raised an eyebrow slightly and asked: “The Empress gave her the name?”

The moment those words were out, Han Yueqi knew she had misspoken. A name given by the Empress — how could the Grand Princess presume to change it? That would be openly overruling the Empress in front of everyone. However the noble ladies of the palace schemed against one another in private, they always presented a front of perfect harmony before others.

Fortunately, there was still Madam Shen — like a convalescing tiger, unhurried and unruffled. “To answer Your Highness: when she was pregnant, Moon Braid was young and didn’t realize it herself. She was dining with Her Majesty the Empress at the palace, and the Empress casually gave her an apricot. Upon returning home, her pregnancy was confirmed. And so she named the child A’Xing as a way of borrowing the Empress’s blessing — but Her Majesty herself is unaware of this.”

The Grand Princess smiled. “That is rather charming. What if I were to give her a name as well — would you want one?”

Han Yueqi’s heart leaped with joy. Madam Shen, by contrast, remained composed, and said with a smile: “Your Highness is too kind. Whatever name Your Highness bestows would be our good fortune — what right would we have to say want or not want? Moon Braid, you haven’t thanked Her Highness yet.”

Han Yueqi immediately stepped forward to offer thanks, and the matter was settled. The Grand Princess smiled and bade her rise, then said: “I hear that the daughters Madam Shen raises are all exceptional. Surely the daughter of the young Madam Shen will outshine even the brilliant blue.”

She paused, then continued: “I’ve been thinking — the phoenix is a splendid image. Why not call her Shen Fengwu?”

At that moment, even the expression in Madam Shen’s eyes shifted.

From time immemorial, only consorts and ladies of the imperial clan might use the character for phoenix — and only those of at least the rank of Princely Household Consort, like the Pingjun Princess Consort. With this single utterance, the Grand Princess seemed to be gifting the Shen family an extraordinary future.

Han Yueqi, for all her composure, was only twenty-four — a triumph of this magnitude was difficult even for her to keep inwardly contained. By instinct she wanted to share it with someone, but when she looked around, Qinglan was nowhere to be seen.

Qinglan was always so steady; she wouldn’t simply disappear at a moment like this. Unless Biwei had done something again? The girl had been a little strange ever since Lingbo’s engagement — though it was understandable. Your closest friend suddenly announcing her betrothal left an emptiness in the heart. But the flower-viewing season was already more than halfway through; was there a young woman in the world who wouldn’t eventually be spoken for?

Han Yueqi was running through possibilities when a thought flashed through her mind. She glanced toward Madam Shen: from the sound of what the Grand Princess was suggesting, could it be that she meant to arrange a match between Yingzhen and Shen Biwei?

Shen Biwei had indeed been off in every way these past few days. She had promised Lingbo not to tell Qinglan, but what Lingbo was doing simply did not accord with her own principles. So for these few days she had been sighing constantly and avoiding Qinglan.

She had come early that morning, and finding Lingbo also up early — sitting in the heated alcove while a hairdresser attended to her hair, a vermilion formal gown draped over the clothing rack — she began sighing at once.

“Don’t bring your ill omen in here,” Lingbo scolded her. “What good does sighing do now? It’s your engagement banquet — what are you planning to do at this point?”

The hairdresser, not understanding the situation, also smiled encouragingly: “That’s right, Miss Shen — this is no time for sighing. Second Young Miss is marrying a wonderful man; you should be happy for her…”

But something in that — no one could quite say what — made not just Miss Shen but also the reflection of the Second Young Miss in the mirror drop their eyes.

Fortunately, Xiao Liu’er came in just then with the tea, and the moment passed. Shen Biwei, with nowhere to put her frustration, said: “I’ll go take a walk outside.” From the covered walkway came the sound of her snapping棣棠 branches one after another as she went, which was both infuriating and oddly amusing.

The heated alcove fell quiet. Lingbo sat before the dressing mirror, listening to the clamor of gongs and drums outside — the opera was starting, she supposed. She’d heard that distinguished guests had all arrived today, just as they had for the grand banquet of the flower-viewing season. With Her Highness the Grand Princess in attendance, who would dare stay away?

This was the power she had sought. The wealth she had sought. The glory she had sought. How many people in the capital envied it — those who had once looked down on them, those who had once wronged them, now harbored a private fear and were weighing whether to come and pledge themselves.

She had gotten what she wished for.

So why did she feel so utterly listless?

Niangzi Yang had gone to oversee things at the front of the house; today, Luo Niangzi was attending to the back. Compared to the other household managers, she had always been the most guileless of them — passionate and impulsive, her joys and sorrows wholly unconcealed. She was known to scold her husband at the gate until he swelled up like a waddling goose, yet when she was in good spirits, she was genuinely warm-hearted. Old Uncle Luo had no great ambitions either — when someone outside had given him fine pastries, he would tuck them away in his jacket and bring them home for her. The two of them had no children, and had simply kept each other company down through the years.

A life of thoroughness was still a life. A life lived with wholehearted passion was equally a life.

She didn’t know why, but whenever she thought of Pei Zhao, the whole of a lifetime seemed very short to her — like that day in the peach blossom grove, when he had held her as they took cover from the hornets. The situation had been so dangerous, yet she had felt so inexplicably at ease. But sometimes a lifetime seemed impossibly long — like the dimming colors of dusk at day’s end, draping everything in a veil, as though the dark would never fully arrive, and she did not know how she was to endure all the years ahead.

She had always been headstrong, and so she had never understood Li He when she was young. Only one line of his poetry had stayed with her all this time.

“I know not how high is the blue sky, nor how thick the yellow earth — I see only the cold moon and the warm sun, come to simmer away a person’s span of years.”

Luo Niangzi was never one to hold her tongue. When she brought the evening garments over herself and caught sight of the gown on the rack, she had to share her opinion: “Fine as heavy brocade may be, I’ve always thought the Second Young Miss looks even better in woven-pattern satin.”

Xiao Liu’er had not expected her to say such a thing and frantically tried to signal her with her eyes. Lingbo caught it in the mirror but felt no anger — only a slight amusement.

And it would be woven-pattern satin, of all things.

And she was the one who suited woven-pattern satin best.

Still, she was Ye Lingbo. She could hold herself steady at any moment — especially now, when the course was already set. Why had Qinglan broken off the engagement so decisively back then, without even going to see him herself, only passing the message through Elder Sister Han? Because if she had seen him, everything would have fallen apart. On the eve of a great battle, she had broken the engagement at once — it was so she herself would have no way to retreat, leaving no possibility of turning back. She hadn’t even trusted her future self; she had rather cut off her own way out than fail to look after her two younger sisters. She herself was Qinglan’s younger sister, and so she too had to be like her — to muster the courage to fight with her back against the wall.