The evening banquet ended early, yet not a single madam departed. They all gathered around Wei Leshui — ostensibly out of concern for her, but in truth for one purpose only: to see who would come to collect her.

The Wei family did not disappoint.

A heavy snowfall had descended by evening, which only made the silhouette of the Northern Garrison cavalry all the more magnificent as they rode in, cloaked in wind and snow. The madams were upstairs playing cards when someone called out “They’re here!” — and sure enough, looking down at the long street, they heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching, a procession in vermillion brocade robes: the Northern Garrison cavalry, newly conferred their honors just days before.

At the head of the column rode Wei Yushan.

He rode straight to the inner gate as he had before — but being only eighteen, young enough that many of the senior madams had sons his age, they saw no reason to withdraw. Only the young ladies hid behind the curtains, sending their maidservants to peek at the young marquis whose name had filled the entire capital.

Lingbo was also behind the curtain, grinding her teeth with irritation.

“That wretch Wei Yushan — him again. I remember every single one of these grievances. I’ll settle accounts one by one when the time comes.”

A’Cuo found this rather funny, though she also recalled the insufferable behavior of this young marquis on the street two nights ago, and had her own thoughts about him.

Han Yueqi’s words had proved true: at the flower-greeting banquet, the difference between having a madam present and not having one was immense — in what one could do, in the maneuvers one could employ.

And indeed, Lu Wenyin proceeded to put her every maneuver to work.

She had kept Wei Leshui under her wing the entire day, all for this moment. Availing herself of her status as a married woman, she personally escorted Wei Leshui to the inner gate with her housekeeper’s wife and maidservants, holding Leshui’s hand all the while. “The young marquis has finally arrived,” she said. “Marquis Cui personally entrusted Miss Wei to my keeping, and I fear I have been a poor hostess. I hope the young marquis will make allowances, and please convey my apologies to the Marchioness on my behalf — tell her that the young Madam Chen has not looked after her guest adequately and will come personally to make her amends.”

Wei Yushan had, after all, appeared before the Emperor himself. He might be overbearing in ordinary life, but when formally called upon, his manners were perfectly correct. He swept a glance over her — a remarkably beautiful woman, he observed, though she made no impression on him — and replied evenly: “Madam Chen is too formal. Thank you for looking after my sister. I shall certainly come to express my gratitude in due course.”

As he spoke, he removed his helmet and held it under his arm, turning to bow to Lu Wenyin. His exposed face was handsome and spirited — the fine looks of a dashingly young man, combined with the crisp vitality of someone shaped by military life — dazzling to behold.

Lu Wenyin looked on with considerably more satisfaction. Yet his appearance being so exceptional, she feared he might not be particularly susceptible to beautiful women, and she felt a flicker of uncertainty.

But Wei Leshui had already slipped free of her hand, walking toward Wei Yushan. “Brother, let’s go home,” she said.

Wei Yushan was an easygoing sort and hadn’t the least intention of scrutinizing whether his sister was in a bad mood. Collecting her was simply a task assigned by their parents. He had no interest in Lu Wenyin whatsoever — he simply bowed to Old Madam He and said: “I take my leave.”

He had taken his leave, but Wei Leshui’s sedan chair took an age to be readied. Meanwhile, the other madams’ and young ladies’ chairs had all flowed out of the gate one after another. By the time Wei Leshui’s chair was finally lifted, there were chairs before her and behind her on all sides.

Wei Yushan didn’t seem to mind the inconvenience. He simply remounted and rode alongside his sister’s sedan chair at a leisurely pace.

Though Lingbo called him a wretch, when it came to seizing opportunity, she was not about to let the fact that he was a wretch stop her from doing so. The moment she saw the young ladies all beginning to order their chairs, she too urged everyone into theirs. She could not manage Ye Qinglan and Han Yueqi, who were still talking — she had no control over them. So she focused first on getting Yanyan and A’Cuo into their chair and maneuvering it into the midst of the young ladies’ procession. Then she found herself left behind, too late to catch up, soon cut off and out of reach.

A’Cuo and Yanyan sat together in the sedan chair. A’Cuo knew Yanyan was of little use in such matters, and with Lingbo absent, she had only herself to rely on. When Wei Yushan had exited, at least ten chairs had left simultaneously. The alley was narrow and they could not maneuver freely — everything was wedged together. A’Cuo suspected someone would make trouble at precisely this moment. And indeed, she heard Lu Wenyin’s voice.

“Oh no — something’s wrong!” she called from within her own chair. At the same moment, the bearers of Lu Wanyang’s chair seemed to stumble — as though they had lost their footing — lurching the chair sideways across the middle of the road. The two bearers in front tumbled to the ground.

“How did the chair get dropped?” Lu Wenyin, availing herself of her status as a married woman, simply raised her chair curtain and called out anxiously: “What happened? Is Wanyang all right?”

“The young lady is unharmed, only a little frightened,” Lu Wanyang’s maidservant called from within the chair. “But two of the bearers seem to have twisted their ankles and cannot walk.”

“However shall we manage?” Lu Wenyin, fully committed to her performance as a frantic elder sister, opened her own chair curtain and called out: “Young Marquis Wei — I beg your help with something.”

Wei Yushan had just received her kindness — she had ostensibly looked after Wei Leshui for an entire plum blossom banquet. He could hardly ride past without responding.

“Madam Chen need not stand on ceremony — please speak,” he said.

A gallant, handsome young man, courteous on horseback — even without the title of young marquis, Lu Wenyin would have found him satisfactory. With the distinction of being one of the top three candidates of this year’s flower-greeting banquet, she naturally brought her full skill to bear. Looking suitably distressed, she said: “In such heavy snow, my younger sister’s bearers have unfortunately injured themselves. My sister is so devoted to our mother, who is unwell at home — she’s been anxious to return. I wonder whether the young marquis might have any way to help…”

Every sedan chair within earshot had a madam or young lady inside, all of them silently fuming. That this happened to occur right in front of Wei Yushan, of all places — could it truly be coincidence?

But if Wei Yushan could not manage even this, he wouldn’t deserve his place among this year’s top candidates.

“Old Five — over here,” he called to a subordinate. “Detail two soldiers to take Miss Lu’s bearers’ places and escort her home.”

“Oh, how could I possibly impose!” Lu Wenyin exclaimed with delighted surprise, expressing her gratitude effusively.

A voice sounded from within the other chair as well.

“Xiaoxuan — thank the young marquis for me.” Lu Wanyang’s voice was exceptionally melodious. Her maidservant was admirably capable: she immediately lifted the curtain, stepped out, and bowed to Wei Yushan. Wei Yushan, mounted above, returned the bow — and caught a glimpse through the raised curtain of the young lady within, seated with perfect composure like a delicate orchid. A single fleeting glance: strikingly beautiful. She inclined her head toward him ever so slightly.

“No need for formalities,” Wei Yushan said.

Lu Wenyin pressed on: “How could we say such a thing? It grows late, young marquis — please see Leshui home quickly. Another day, I shall bring my sister in person to call and express our thanks — and to pay our respects to the Marchioness.”

Wei Yushan responded with a neutral nod and tossed a command token to the subordinate called Old Five.

“It’s getting late and I don’t want the night patrol giving you trouble. Use my token to escort the young lady safely home.”

Lu Wenyin, knowing that Lu Wanyang had left an impression upon him, smiled faintly and said no more, ordering her chair to move. In the chairs around her, madams and young ladies might gnash their teeth all they liked — they had all been outmaneuvered.

More than ten chairs had heard this scene play out, as vivid and polished as a scene from an opera — the gifted young man and the beautiful young woman meeting for the first time; the hero rescuing the maiden in distress. The madams naturally envied Lu Wenyin her deft maneuvering. As for the young ladies — unable to receive male visitors — they could only sigh that Lu Wanyang was fortunate to have so skilled a sister.

But A’Cuo was not satisfied.

That the Ye family had no married madam to accompany them was something she had long known. That day at the plum blossom banquet, Lu Wenyin had used her status as a madam to make things difficult at every turn — proof enough of this fact.

But was being a young lady really so helpless?

If Lingbo were here, she certainly wouldn’t be sitting idle as A’Cuo was now, watching the Lu sisters take first place without even attempting to contest it.

Lingbo only appeared delicate and shy. In truth she had seven talents to her bow, a high spirit, and a certainty that every debt and every favor would be repaid in time. It was not without reason that Ye Qinglan kept Lingbo in check: Lingbo’s striving was one thing, but she was grown now and knew where the limits lay. A’Cuo was clever, but she was still a fifteen-year-old girl — she would not yet understand where to draw the line. At this age, once one decided to do something, it was easy to become single-minded about it. Lingbo perhaps hadn’t even expected A’Cuo to seize every opportunity at every turn — but in her young girl’s heart and blood, A’Cuo burned with the conviction that she could not waste the opening Lingbo had fought to give them by pressing them into their chair.

And it was Lu Wenyin — the very person who had just made things difficult for Ye Qinglan.

Caught between these two pressures, A’Cuo felt something kindle in her chest, blazing hot. Listening to Lu Wenyin work her schemes outside — all lively banter and laughter — and watching as Wei Yushan seemed on the verge of being neatly delivered into Lu Wanyang’s hands, A’Cuo grew more anxious by the moment.

“Want to play?” Yanyan suddenly held something out to her.

A’Cuo had been racking her brain over how to seize the advantage, and here was Yanyan still thinking about games. While A’Cuo gripped her handkerchief and wracked herself with schemes, Yanyan had been calmly and unhurriedly scooping snow from the windowsill of the sedan chair, forming it into balls — and not just one, but a whole pile of them. Not content with playing alone, she now held one out to A’Cuo.

A’Cuo wanted very much to glare at her. Thinking of Lingbo, she restrained herself, and instead turned her ear back to the sounds outside, peering through the crack in the curtain to watch that fool Wei Yushan being expertly reeled in by Lu Wenyin.

Two nights ago on the street, she had only caught a brief glimpse of Wei Yushan — enough to register a young marquis of considerable arrogance and pride, openly hostile to the Ye family, and subsequently given a dressing-down by Cui Jingyu for it. Viewing him now, she could only see his back: mounted on horseback, Wei Leshui’s chair to his left, Lu Wenyin to his right, Lu Wanyang’s chair directly ahead.

What a waste of the excellent position Lingbo had fought to secure for her and Yanyan. Their chair was so close to Wei Yushan — yet without a married madam to open the conversation, what use were two unmarried young ladies, trapped inside a sedan chair?

She was simply too incapable…

A’Cuo was berating herself in her thoughts when she caught sight of the snowball in Yanyan’s hand. A sudden idea flashed through her mind.

“Yanyan — can you throw a snowball?”

Wei Yushan rode with a touch of distraction, having gone through the motions of dealing with Lu Wenyin.

He was not unaware of Lu Wenyin’s attempts to draw him in. But she had, after all, supposedly looked after Leshui for a whole day — courtesy required some acknowledgment. Besides, this young madam was crisp in action and direct in speech; she didn’t seem like a hypocrite. Though she was clearly trying to engineer something between him and that “Miss Lu,” she hadn’t pushed too aggressively — all still within reasonable bounds.

Moreover, the young lady in the chair had an air of refined elegance and a face of exceptional beauty. Wei Yushan was no libertine, but he had no particular objection either.

Their father had never concerned himself much with such matters. Their mother, however, had said a few things that very morning — suggesting that the capital’s flower-greeting banquets were a fine opportunity, hinting that it was time to arrange a betrothal for both siblings. Wei Yushan had pushed back against this, letting fall a few remarks about the shallowness of the noble young ladies at the flower-greeting banquet, and for this had nearly earned another thrashing from Cui Jingyu.

So he had come to collect his sister already nursing a measure of irritation. He had been in the middle of finishing his exchange with Lu Wenyin and preparing to leave when something struck him in the back.

A snowball.

He wore light armor beneath his brocade robe. Though young, he had grown up on the frontier — a young general forged through battle — and carried himself with the lean, muscular build of a grown man. His vermillion brocade robe, embroidered with feathers, cut a handsome figure from the back. A single snowball wasn’t much.

But the snowballs kept coming, one after another, each thrown with remarkable accuracy — every one finding its mark on him.

Wei Yushan frowned and turned on his horse to look. His gaze fell on the Ye family’s sedan chair. Just below the curtain, a small mischievous hand was being hastily withdrawn. Who else could it be?

“Ye Yanyan!” He had already figured out who the culprit was. He wheeled his horse directly toward the Ye family’s chair and, in one swift motion, threw the curtain open.

“Young general — ” His attendants immediately moved to stop him. The capital was not the frontier. And this was a flower-greeting banquet, with its strict rules of propriety — the chair contained an unmarried young lady of a noble family. No matter how one looked at it, his own young marquis was the one behaving improperly.

But Wei Yushan had no patience for such things.

He had an intense and longstanding dislike of the Ye family. That Ye Yanyan had now dared to provoke him first only incensed him further. He was wholly bent on dragging her out to reprimand her, and had not thought for even a moment that there might be someone else inside.

The curtain went up — but night had already fallen, and the snowlight was half-blocked by Wei Yushan, his horse, and his men. When he threw the curtain open, the first person his eyes found was not the irritating Ye Yanyan, but her.

In the dim interior of the sedan chair, the only light came from a glass lamp held hurriedly aloft by a maidservant. That light fell upon her brows and eyes — beauty like something painted. She appeared to be about the same age as Leshui. She looked up in sudden alarm, a flash of panic in her expression, like a small deer startled in a forest, her whole being as fragile and luminous as glass — had she been frightened?

“How dare you —”

In the next instant the maidservant cried out in fury, hastening forward to shield Wei Yushan’s view. She snatched the curtain back and let it fall with force.

The patterned curtain dropped. Along the bamboo rod that held it in place, the speckled grain of the mottled bamboo was clearly visible. The breathtaking glimpse had vanished without a trace — but it seemed as though even the falling snow had paused for a moment on her account. In the midst of the sweeping snowfall, Wei Yushan heard the sound of his own heartbeat.

The Ye family’s maidservant was calling for the bearers to lift the chair. They moved away quickly.

That moment was like something from a dream.

He couldn’t even remember whether Ye Yanyan had been inside — she seemed to have been, but what she had been wearing, what she had looked like, he had entirely forgotten.

All he retained was the dazzling impact of that fleeting glimpse.

“…Brother, brother?” Leshui’s voice reached him.

Wei Yushan came back to himself with a start, and saw his sister leaning out of her chair window, looking at him with puzzlement.

“What is it?” He heard his own voice ask.

“Let’s go home quickly — Mother is waiting for us.”

“Ah — yes, of course.” Only then did Wei Yushan remember what he was supposed to be doing. He gave the roof of her chair a pat to signal the bearers to set off. As they passed through the He family’s gate and out onto the long street, it lay quiet and still — many chairs behind him had pulled back to let him go first. He was entirely unaware of it.

He found himself wondering: where was her chair now?

Wei Yushan looked out at the snow-falling street and lane, unable to stop thinking about it.

“Young general — that was the Ye family’s chair just now, wasn’t it?” Old Five asked.

“What?” Wei Yushan blinked, then understood, remembering the character written on the lantern hanging from the chair. His gaze darkened. “Of course it was.”

“That would be the Ye family’s Fourth Young Miss’s chair,” Wei Leshui put in helpfully, having overheard.

“You know them?” Wei Yushan was immediately on guard.

By then they had entered a narrow lane. Wei Leshui, not minding the cold, had opened her curtain to talk with her brother — but hearing his question, she didn’t dare answer and quietly lowered the curtain again.

She understood very well how much her brother detested the Ye family.

The people of the capital were mostly unaware of the circumstances surrounding that old engagement — but Wei Yushan knew them clearly. At the time, Wei the Marshal was not yet a marshal, only an ordinary general. Cui Jingyu was a mere captain under his command — but the finest in martial skill, young and spirited, remarkably outstanding. Wei Yushan had been only thirteen or fourteen then, with respect for no one — except Cui Jingyu, whom he idolized the way all young boys idolize an elder brother figure.

And so for the Ye family, who had broken off that engagement, he felt not the slightest goodwill. Having grown up at Cui Jingyu’s side, he understood all too well what the matter had cost him.

Wei Leshui had known about all of this from childhood. Her brother and the Ye family were at something very close to open enmity.

And indeed, Wei Yushan rapped on the roof of her chair and said: “You are not to play with anyone from the Ye family. Do you hear me?”

Wei Leshui, sitting inside, had no desire whatsoever to respond to this. Wei Yushan rapped twice more. Finally she said:

“Understood.”

Only then did Wei Yushan leave the matter and turn to Old Five to discuss some routine military affairs.

Wei Leshui sat in the sedan chair, and felt a smile stealing irrepressibly onto her face.

I only said I understood, she thought to herself. I didn’t actually promise anything. And she felt that she was being very clever about it.

Besides — Brother was just saying things. But she and Yanyan had linked pinkies. Surely a pinky promise carried more binding weight. That way, she wasn’t violating her mother’s teaching about following through on one’s word — not at all.