Because of this, before the Spring Hunt, Pei Zhao went on behalf of the Emperor to inspect the Zhenbei Army. The Marshal had come personally to receive him, and Wei Yushan could only show up with a sour expression, performing the required salute with reluctant compliance, calling out: “Your Grace.”
Pei Zhao was also infuriating — he sat lazily on his horse in a brocade robe, watching Wei Yushan complete the full set of ceremonial bows before smiling and saying: “Good boy, rise.”
Wei Yushan’s eyes looked ready to tear him apart. Had the Marshal not kept him in check with a stern glance, he would likely have already come to blows with him.
Not content with tormenting Wei Yushan, he went on to provoke Cui Jingyu — still riding along with that same air of casual indifference, the entire Zhenbei Army trailing behind them. He said: “Marshal, you’ve worked hard enough; there’s no need to accompany the inspection. Marquis Cui and I can simply ride around on our own.”
It sounded, on the surface, rather considerate — a show of respect for the Marshal. But the moment the Marshal had gone, Pei Zhao lazily turned to Cui Jingyu and asked: “Marquis Cui, which do you think is stronger — the Mountain Unit or our Fire Unit?”
The moment those words left his mouth, the officers of the Fire Unit burst into laughter. The rivalry between the Mountain Unit and the Fire Unit had always run hot within the Zhenbei Army. After Pei Zhao had yielded the credit at the Mingsha River, many Fire Unit soldiers had seethed with indignation. Now, in an unexpected turn of events, Pei Zhao had his title of Duke restored and had come to inspect the army on the Emperor’s behalf — the Fire Unit finally had something to crow about.
Cui Jingyu’s response was equally sharp. He said coldly: “The Mountain Unit has only two Marquises. The Fire Unit has a Duke. Naturally, the Fire Unit is stronger.”
Even the most straightforward officers in the army could hear the meaning beneath those words: your Fire Unit is simply lording it over us by virtue of the Duke of Ying’s title — naturally I can only say the Fire Unit is stronger.
The Mountain Unit men, who had been holding their tongues, erupted in cheers the moment they heard this. Wei Yushan was especially enthusiastic, calling out: “Well said, Brother Cui!”
The Fire Unit men were immediately incensed and began shouting back: “At the polo banquet, if not for the Duke, your Mountain Unit would have disgraced the entire Zhenbei Army — and you dare say such things!”
The Mountain Unit men refused to concede, promptly raising numerous counter-examples — and the argument gradually shifted to the battlefield itself, growing specific: which battle, which day, whether they had charged the south gate or the north gate, the upstream side or the downstream side, who had stolen whose credit, who had held back whose progress. The quarrel blazed with furious heat.
Pei Zhao was truly deplorable — having stirred the entire Zhenbei Army into an uproar with just a few words, he himself stood apart with folded arms, chatting cheerfully with Yan Hai, the supervising eunuch, watching the chaos with a smile.
When Yan Hai was about to return to the palace to make his report, Pei Zhao made a show of seeing him all the way to the camp gate. Even Yan Hai — an eunuch of considerable arrogance — hastily waved him off: “Your Grace honors this servant far too much.”
Cui Jingyu watched it all with cold eyes.
Pei Zhao returned, and the men were still arguing. Rather than settling things, he continued to fan the flames, smiling and calling out encouragement: “Go on, come to blows — whoever wins gets the credit.”
Cui Jingyu rode over, surveyed the scene, and asked him quietly: “Is the palace truly this wary of you?”
Pei Zhao conducted himself like an antelope hanging its horns on a branch — impossible for ordinary men to fathom. The Emperor had sent him to inspect the Zhenbei Army on his behalf, yet he had deliberately set the army quarreling among themselves. Others might not understand it, but at least the supervising eunuch Yan Hai had returned to the palace thoroughly satisfied.
Pei Zhao still wore that easy smile, also gazing at the scene, and said with languid indifference: “Who knows.”
Both men had come up through the military. Among men, rank sometimes worked like a wolf pack — when enough wolves gathered in one place, a natural hierarchy would form of its own accord. So a single glance at each other was enough to know what the other was made of. So it was with him and Pei Zhao: though they had no personal acquaintance, each knew the other was an extraordinary figure of rare quality — which was precisely why, at the Mingsha River, no coordination had been needed between them; their cooperation had been instinctive and seamless.
In ordinary times, however, they rarely interacted — like two rulers who never met at court. He had vaguely sensed that Pei Zhao’s apparent lack of ambition must have a reason, though he had not guessed his identity was so distinguished. Looking at it now, during four years of war, Pei Zhao had actually reined in his brilliance considerably. Otherwise, with the military legacy of the Duke of Ying’s household behind him, ascending to the highest ranks of power would have been as easy as reaching into a bag.
He was in the midst of acknowledging Pei Zhao’s talents when Pei Zhao provoked him, casting a glance at the brawl and smiling: “Marquis Cui, are you truly capable or not?”
“Capable of what?” Cui Jingyu asked, puzzled.
“Didn’t you rescue a maiden in distress at the Peach Blossom Banquet? So why are things still at this point?” Pei Zhao said, half in jest and half in earnest: “You’re neither laying siege nor making a move — you’re just blocking the way. How am I supposed to get through?”
Cui Jingyu stood in blank confusion for a moment before he understood what he meant, and his expression immediately turned cold.
“Have you taken up matchmaking lessons from Ye Lingbo as well?”
Speaking of the Duke was one thing — but speaking of his Ye Lingbo was quite another. Pei Zhao’s eyes turned cold in an instant, though his face still held a smile, and he said meaningfully: “Very well, then.”
This was not the Mingsha River, where only Cui Jingyu could be the general who turned the tide. At the Flower Banquet in the capital, there were still plenty of young men of rank who had not yet made their move. If Cui Jingyu did not act, there was no shortage of others who would.
On the last day of the Spring Hunt, the man responsible for managing the imperial procurement arrived — an old acquaintance of them all: Dai Yuquan.
—
In truth, Qinglan had no objections to the Grand Princess choosing her to oversee the female attendees. She mainly assumed the Grand Princess was not simply indulging Lingbo’s whims, but genuinely wanted her to take charge. And so she threw herself into the task with full dedication — working until late into the night, staying over at the Grand Princess’s residence, laboring alongside Female Official Su from dawn to dusk, going over every detail one by one, determined to see the Spring Hunt arrangements managed to perfection, so as not to betray the Grand Princess’s trust.
So when Dai Yuquan arrived, she actually felt a sense of relief.
Dai Yuquan — his competence was beyond question, and his character was even finer. On the day of the broken engagement, Qinglan had actually seen him twice. The first time was when she told him Lingbo had taken ill and could not proceed with the engagement — both parties knew it was a pretense, but this man’s bearing was truly admirable. He showed no trace of agitation, not even visible disappointment, only the faintest shade of it. Although Qinglan knew his rapid engagement had not been entirely innocent on his part, she still felt a pang of guilt. Especially when she proposed compensation, and Dai Yuquan simply said: “The gathering and parting of fate is a common affair. An engagement is a joyous occasion; even when joy does not come to pass, there is still a friendship between us. If the young lady speaks of compensation, she thinks too little of this humble official.”
A single sentence left Qinglan feeling embarrassed.
And yet not even half an hour later, she had to see him a second time. Even Qinglan herself felt uncomfortable bringing it up, but she had no choice — Lingbo’s reputation still needed salvaging. She was a young lady who handled everything with perfect propriety, and even she found it difficult to begin the conversation, talking around the subject in circles without getting to the point.
It was Dai Yuquan who caught her meaning first. He smiled and said: “I understand what Miss Ye is trying to say. Since it is the Grand Princess’s wish, this humble official naturally obeys. Miss Ye need not worry — I will go at once and clear up this misunderstanding with the guests.”
And indeed, he handled the matter with exceptional finesse. Inside the residence, the ladies had been whispering furiously — yet not a single rumor was heard outside. Watching how he managed it, Qinglan felt genuinely ashamed.
By her usual approach, she would have prepared a generous gift to send his way. But given the relationship between their two families, sending gifts now felt inappropriate. The Ye family had already wronged him, and sending gifts now felt almost like adding insult to injury — besides, he lacked for nothing. Qinglan was the kind of person who rarely owed anyone anything; others were in her debt far more often than she was in theirs. And that was precisely why this felt so difficult to let go of.
Fortunately, today brought an occasion. Female Official Su personally led Dai Yuquan to see Qinglan. Dai Yuquan was as courteous as ever, saying: “This humble official has been dispatched by Prince Pingjun to assist with the procurement. I ask Miss Ye for her guidance.”
“You are too kind, Official Dai,” Qinglan replied.
Dai Yuquan was about to ask if she had drawn up an inventory, when he heard her say: “As it happens, I have arranged to bring several ladies and young misses today to visit the pavilions and courtyards set aside for the Spring Hunt — I wonder if Official Dai might be free to join us.”
In truth, it was not only Qinglan who knew little of Dai Yuquan. Dai Yuquan was also somewhat surprised by Qinglan. He had long known that the capital had strict conventions — the ladies of noble households were mostly sheltered women of the inner chambers who rarely showed their hand in public affairs. He had not expected that besides Ye Lingbo, the Ye family also had a Ye Qinglan — someone whose every word and action was perfectly suited to the occasion, leaving even him at a loss to find fault.
Her approach to work was the same: principled, and yet immensely practical — nothing like those people who had read too many texts on virtue and could only offer empty talk. For this Spring Hunt, for instance, she had gathered a small group of the most experienced and capable ladies, along with a few sharp-minded and attentive young misses, to make an advance visit to the courtyards and pavilions designated for the ladies’ rest during the Hunt, so they could raise suggestions — which she then had her own maidservants record.
This showed she was broad-minded and free of jealousy — she was willing to listen to others. And her own competence far exceeded that of the other young ladies: wherever they had not thought to look, she had already considered, and wherever they offered suggestions most freely, she instead only smiled gently, without rushing to speak first.
Dai Yuquan watched her and found her talents genuinely admirable. Seeing that she still seemed deeply embarrassed about the engagement affair, he took the opportunity of drafting the inventory to smile and say: “Inventories are settled one sheet at a time. Miss Ye need not trouble herself over last month’s sheet — what is past, let it remain past.”
Qinglan found it amusing, and replied: “That Official Dai does not count last month’s sheet against me speaks to his great generosity — but how then am I to set my own conscience at ease?”
Others might have left it at that, but Female Official Su had the clearest understanding of all the tangled circumstances. She had been listening carefully from the side, and now smiled and said: “I hear that Official Dai’s family has written urging him to finalize a match at this year’s Flower Banquet. If Miss Ye wishes to repay Official Dai’s generosity, why not help him find a good match at the Flower Banquet? It would make quite a charming story.”
Even someone as composed as Dai Yuquan could only smile helplessly at that, saying: “Female Official Su jests — it is simply that my grandfather is of advanced age and in poor health, so he is anxious.”
He said it was a jest, yet he did not deny it — which meant Female Official Su had spoken the truth. Hearing this, Qinglan felt even more guilty. As the family’s only son, once his grandfather passed, he would have to observe three years of mourning — no wonder his family was worried. He had been living in the capital for some time and would have to navigate the officialdom going forward; without a mistress of the house to help manage social affairs, it would truly be difficult.
No wonder the engagement with Lingbo had been arranged in such haste.
Although Qinglan’s position as a young unmarried lady made it improper for her to involve herself directly, she quietly made a note to keep an eye out for him at the Flower Banquet.
After finishing their inspection and returning, they happened to cross paths with Cui Jingyu, who had also brought the Zhenbei Army’s officers to survey the woodlands for the Spring Hunt. In the spirit of fairness, he had also invited Yuan Xiu along, and the group was large and sweeping as it moved through the grounds. Female Official Su, ever one to manage things, immediately called out to stop them: “Marquis, if there is anything on your end that needs to be added or adjusted, please let Official Dai know today — once things are underway, there will be no time.”
This was in fact the first time Cui Jingyu had laid eyes on Dai Yuquan. Seeing a civil official slumped lazily on his horse, he paid him little mind and simply gave a word of acknowledgment.
But then Madam He could not help herself. Qinglan had only invited He Qingyi today — she had not invited Madam He, knowing her capabilities were modest and her temperament too impetuous for the deliberations. But Madam He, worried about He Qingyi, had come along anyway. Catching sight of Cui Jingyu now, how could she resist? She immediately leaned out of the carriage window with a smile, calling out: “Marquis Cui, perfect timing — when you’re done here, shall we all ride back together? My husband has been saying he’d like to invite Marquis Cui for drinks.”
Cui Jingyu said nothing much, only casting a calm glance at Qinglan. It was Female Official Su who smiled and replied: “Madam He must have forgotten — with the Spring Hunt tomorrow, how could the Marquis drink tonight?”
Only then did Madam He withdraw her enthusiasm, saying repeatedly: “How careless of me.”
“Though I hear there are wolves in the hills, and nighttime travel is dangerous,” Female Official Su said deliberately, turning to Qinglan: “If the Marquis finished his inspection and rode back with us, it would be quite safe. Miss Ye, what do you think?”
In the deepening dusk, Qinglan remained composed in her understated dress and said lightly: “I fear it would only delay the Marquis’s inspection and cost him the advantage tomorrow.”
“Indeed — I plan to spend the entire night inspecting the grounds, and simply sleep in the hills afterward,” Cui Jingyu replied with equal calm.
Female Official Su could hardly keep from laughing. These two — she would have to leave the unfinished business to Ye Lingbo. She could only say: “Then we shall not trouble the Marquis — but before the Spring Hunt begins tomorrow, please do come by the residence. The Grand Princess has something to say.”
Of course, it was not the Grand Princess who had something to say — it was Ye Lingbo.
The moment Qinglan returned to the residence, word of this exchange reached Ye Lingbo’s ears, and she flew into a rage: “Cui Jingyu, you truly are a stubborn mule!”
But having vented, what needed to be done still needed doing.
Fortunately, the Grand Princess had been extremely kind to her of late. That evening, Lingbo found an excuse to bring some pastries over — performed her proper bow with perfect decorum, and said: “Your Highness, Lingbo happened to notice some lovely roses in the kitchen today and made some rose cakes using the method my late mother used. I humbly offer them for Your Highness to taste.”
The pastries were tasted for poison by a palace attendant before being presented. The Grand Princess tried a small piece, said “not bad,” and passed the rest to the attendants. Nanny Song even joked: “Our Highness has finally received the tea and cakes offered by a new daughter-in-law.”
Lingbo had no time for the jest and only pretended to be embarrassed, before hearing the Grand Princess ask: “Lingbo came so late — is there something else on your mind?”
She immediately stepped forward: “In reply to Your Highness — there is truly nothing else. I only wanted to ask: while the Spring Hunt is wonderful, it does run for four or five days and has pushed back our Flower Banquet. What are we to do about that?”
The Grand Princess found her amusing — seeing that look on Lingbo’s face, at once earnest and quietly scheming, like a little fox. When it was one’s own child, everything was endearing no matter how one looked at it. So she smiled as well and said: “Indeed — and what does Lingbo think we should do?”
Lingbo put on a show of modesty before “presenting her plan”: “I was thinking — the imperial hunting grounds are only open twice a year, and ladies rarely get to enter. To let only the men hunt would be such a waste. Female Official Su also says the scenery inside is lovely — there are hot springs, and a lake, and especially the wisteria grove at Quiet Heart Garden, which stretches for a full half-acre, like a realm of immortals. The flowering crabapples are also in beautiful bloom, perfectly in season…”
She was still building up her case when the Grand Princess said: “In that case, let the Crabapple Banquet go to the Su family — Female Official Su’s own maternal family. There is no need to find another venue — hold it right there at Quiet Heart Garden. Su’s mother is no longer with us, so you and she may arrange it together.”
Lingbo was overjoyed beyond expectation.
“Many thanks, Your Highness.” She immediately pressed her luck: “Your Highness, actually, my late mother’s wisteria flower cakes were also considered the finest in the capital…”
The Grand Princess was perfectly well aware of what she meant.
“Do not worry — I will only accompany the Emperor for one day of hunting on the first day. On the second day I will come as a guest to your Crabapple Banquet.”
Lingbo was ecstatic. She took her leave of the Grand Princess and came out to find that even Pei Zhao looked more agreeable to her eyes than usual, and she gave him all the remaining rose cakes. This earned her a night of Yanyan’s complaints: “Never in my life have I seen anyone bake rose cakes — spending the whole time smelling of flowers — and not bring a single one back for me to eat! How awful!”
“All you ever think about is food.” Lingbo was in high spirits and could not be bothered to quarrel with her. She even gave A’Cuo a kiss and asked: “Is my A’Cuo being good? How has that Wei Yushan been lately — is he giving you any trouble?”
“No.”
“Good.” Lingbo was full of confidence: “The Kerria Blossom Banquet was not my opportunity to shine. Now that the Crabapple Banquet has fallen into my hands — just wait and see if I don’t have them all spinning in circles.”