On the third day of the spring hunt, Cui Jingyu brought down a fierce tiger, and the generals of the Northern Garrison Army erupted in jubilation — yet Wei Yushan felt a lingering chill of unease.

He had noticed that something subtly different had come over Cui Jingyu. They had actually tracked that tiger for two days. Zhang Hai, who had accompanied them, said it was the Tiger King of the Northern Mountains — extraordinarily cunning, covered in old wounds, yet never once caught. Traps, snares, even poison were useless against it, and bows were no better; it could catch a hunter’s scent from the upwind side, and no one had ever managed to track its movements.

But this time, the hunter was Cui Jingyu.

He had taken the most elite fighters of the Northern Garrison Army and lain in ambush along the tiger’s usual path, slaughtering a sheep so that the stench of blood spread through the forest. Zhang Hai had repeatedly advised that it was pointless — this tiger would not even take live bait as lure, let alone something so obviously staged.

And yet the Tiger King came.

It approached the ambush from the downwind side and lunged at two of the men. Luo Yong was knocked to the ground — fortunately he had been wearing armor, and even so the plating at his shoulder was bitten clean through, leaving a bloody hole. The other deputy commander was less fortunate, knocked straight into a mountain ravine; had he been wearing iron armor instead of rattan, he would have drowned in the churning current.

This Tiger King was so intelligent that as they hunted it, it hunted them in turn. The slaughtered sheep was not bait — it was more like a signal Cui Jingyu had sent it, an invitation to a fight to the death.

When the tiger lunged for the remaining men, Cui Jingyu appeared from two hundred paces away and loosed three arrows in rapid succession. The arrow shafts had been soaked in anesthetic, and it took a quarter of an hour for the drug to take effect — a quarter of an hour during which everyone teetered on the knife’s edge of death.

But every man in the Northern Garrison Army had lived on that knife’s edge. Having taken down a fierce tiger, they were in high spirits. “I never thought hunting could be this exhilarating,” someone said. “It’s practically like going to war. No wonder the young lords in the capital love this sort of thing — there’s nothing else for them to do in the city, so they come out here just to get a taste of it.”

The Tiger King was chained and locked in an iron cage. When it was hauled back to camp, the entire encampment erupted. The Emperor was thoroughly delighted and rewarded everyone handsomely, then laughingly asked Cui Jingyu what prize he wished for.

By then it was the third day of the hunt. The Emperor’s appetite for it had been mostly satisfied — he had never been skilled at riding and archery even as Crown Prince, and after decades of pampered ease, how could he endure the hardship of riding? So from the third day onward, he had spent most of his time in his tent drinking and feasting, listening to Minister Chen and the eunuchs fawn over him.

Seeing someone as valiant as Cui Jingyu naturally pleased him. Cui Jingyu was still young, and the Emperor was not yet so wary of him — besides, judging from the way his elder sister was currently being so protective, perhaps he would need to rely on this man to stand against Yingzhen one day. Thinking to draw him closer, the Emperor raised his wine cup and did not forget to add: “No need to rush. Whenever you’ve thought it through, come ask me then — it won’t be too late. Your fiefdom hasn’t been decided yet, so we’ll bestow it all at once when the time comes.”

After all that glory, the camp feasted and celebrated for another day. But what truly put Wei Yushan on edge was not this — it was seeing Cui Jingyu standing alone beside the iron cage that evening, staring at the Tiger King.

The anesthetic had largely worn off, and the Tiger King was slowly coming to, gazing around in bewilderment, probably unaware that it would never again know the forests, that for the rest of its life it would be kept in the imperial gardens as a spectacle for others’ amusement.

“It’s truly a pity.” Wei Yushan could not help remarking. “From now on, it will never know freedom again.”

But he had not anticipated Cui Jingyu’s reply.

“In the mountains, it would have met a bad end all the same,” Cui Jingyu said calmly. “In the imperial gardens, at least it lives longer. There is no perfect solution in this world, is there?”

The string in Wei Yushan’s heart pulled taut at once. He immediately thought of Ye Lingbo — this man must be scheming something again. The Cui Jingyu of before had not had this disposition.

Because of this, when the Begonia Banquet came on the fourth day, Wei Yushan arrived already somewhat on guard, vigilantly watching for whatever trouble Ye Lingbo might stir up. To his surprise, Ye Lingbo had suddenly settled down completely — she actually set about organizing the banquet in earnest, and with far more sophistication than before. She even stood up to address the gathering.

She was now the future wife of the Duke of Yingguo, and naturally everyone deferred to her, setting down what they were doing to hear her speak. She said: “All the ladies and young misses here are honored guests. I am the youngest among you, and have little to offer in the way of good ideas. But a few days ago at Elder Sister Han’s Peach Blossom Banquet, everyone mentioned that in years past, the drawing of flower-token lots at the Flower-Informing Banquet was always a favorite — lively and delightful. For some reason it had been discontinued these last few years. So today, Elder Sister Su has prepared flower-token lots for everyone to enjoy. Why don’t we admire the flowers and draw lots at the same time? The riverside has already been set with tables — please take your seats.”

Qinglan watched her with a quiet smile, and when she had finished, gave her an encouraging pat on the back. “Lingbo spoke very well,” she said with a smile.

Then Qinglan smiled and added on her behalf: “They say the men’s Winding Stream Banquet is wonderful — but we women have our own pleasures, both elegant and delightful. Many thanks to the Female Official Su for all her effort.”

In truth, the moment Lingbo had proposed the flower-token lots, eyes had lit up around the gathering. Novelty and amusement aside, who would not want to draw a lot that might divine their fate — bearing the name of a flower, no less, elegant and charming, perfectly suited to the theme of the Flower-Informing Banquet? Even those who put no faith in such things thought it harmless fun. But once Qinglan spoke, she elevated the game to something loftier — not mere amusement, but a refined pursuit.

And so even the most strait-laced of the married ladies said nothing, while the young misses were positively eager, immediately pairing off in groups, scattering to the various tables to play. They called out in unison to praise the Female Official: “Madam Su’s idea is wonderful — this banquet is so much fun!”

The Female Official Su only smiled faintly. In truth, she too was moved — Lingbo truly had good fortune, to have such a wonderful elder sister who planned and smoothed things over for her at every turn, so much so that Su found herself sometimes treating Lingbo as her own little sister, and forgiving her of her impetuous ambition.

In fact, the reason the flower-token lots had been abandoned at the Flower-Informing Banquet these past few years was largely due to Lu Wanyang. Her little clique had run roughshod over the event, dividing everyone into tiers — and with only so many flowers on the lots, who wanted to share one with them? After two years of drama, the lots had been abandoned. Now that Lu Wanyang had fallen, the lots were permitted again. The girls were generally good-natured — when even Ye Lingbo, the one with the most standing to bully others, did not form factions or torment anyone, who else had the authority to do so? So even the few troublemakers among them behaved themselves. When two drew the same lot, they took it as a happy coincidence, not fighting over it, but encouraging one another instead.

This was what the Grand Princess wanted — a clean, wholesome Flower-Informing Banquet.

It was a pity that Lingbo’s nature was truly as unchangeable as the mountains and rivers. Qinglan had barely finished marveling at how well-behaved she had been before Lingbo was already onto a new idea. “Everyone is enjoying the flower-token lots for the first time, which is of course delightful,” she said. “But we few played lots at the Peach Blossom Banquet just the other day, so why don’t we open a separate table and all go enjoy the view from the water pavilion? It would make up for what we missed at the Peach Blossom Banquet.”

Han Yueqi knew her well and was not surprised. She smiled and played along. “Yes, I’ll go gather the ladies from this side. You take care of the gentlemen.”

And so Ye Lingbo reassembled the same ten who had been at the Peach Blossom Banquet, with the addition of Pei Zhao and Dai Yuquan. Wei Shancao had missed out again — truly amusing.

Cui Jingyu had always been the difficult one to invite — it had never been done without some stratagem. Yet this time, the moment he was called, he came. It was Qinglan who proved difficult.

Lingbo had no idea about the wisteria grove and the floodgate. She simply assumed Qinglan was resisting because she had found out about the matchmaking. But with Han Yueqi there, they eventually dragged her over and settled her into a seat.

Since men and women could not share a table, they found a way around it as they had at the Peach Blossom Banquet — sitting on the ground, using small stoves to warm wine and boil wonton soup, which did not technically count as sharing a table. With Han Yueqi, a married lady, present, it was deemed a gathering of old family friends, not unmarried men and women meeting unchaperoned.

Yet in truth, the two most “unchaperoned” people at the table had no leisure to think about that. The conversation by the wisteria grove floodgate was unknown to everyone at the table, but Qinglan had barely slept that night. Now they sat facing each other across the table, each understanding the other without a word — almost exactly as it had been four years ago.

In truth, after saying what she had said the night before, Qinglan had been prepared to never see him again. Unexpectedly, when she arrived today, Cui Jingyu showed no sign of a rupture — in fact, he had arrived before her. She could not help feeling a flutter of unease.

Han Yueqi passed around the wine — a sweet plum-blossom wine that young ladies could drink. She had Lv’e go around to pour for everyone. When she reached Cui Jingyu, he unhurriedly covered his wine cup. “I won’t be drinking today,” he said.

Qinglan’s face flushed immediately. Fortunately there were many people at the table and no one noticed.

The banquet was especially trying for her, for knowing the matter was hopeless while her sister and friend still rushed about on its behalf was truly wrenching. Fortunately, Dai Yuquan was seated beside her, separated by the couple Fu Yunrui and Yin Hongxuan. When Fu Yunrui grew dizzy after a cup of wine and Yin Hongxuan got up to walk with her, Dai Yuquan became Qinglan’s neighbor. His occasional remarks to her helped ease the awkwardness.

Toward Dai Yuquan, Qinglan felt both admiration and guilt. Whatever his original motivations, the fact that he could now live calmly alongside her family spoke to his generosity. Besides, aside from this period, there might not be another chance to make amends. Dai Yuquan had not yet established himself firmly in the capital, so while there was still goodwill and guilt with which to conduct herself around him, it would suffice — if he truly became a salt-inspection official in the future, repairing the relationship between their families would be far more difficult.

So Qinglan attended very carefully to Dai Yuquan, in part also to make amends on her sister’s behalf.

Lingbo was more at ease about it. When Lv’e brought the wine around to her, she said nothing more, simply picked up her cup and smiled. “Master Dai, allow me to toast you. A thousand words, all left unspoken.”

Dai Yuquan smiled in return. “Second Young Miss is too courteous. When we meet in the marketplace in the future, I won’t be going easy on you.”

Such good grace — and even offering Lingbo a dignified way out. But Pei Zhao was jealous even of this, and said, “Then let me toast Master Dai as well.”

Dai Yuquan remained composed and neither obsequious nor condescending. “You are too kind, my lord.” He rose and drank the cup.

“You two — don’t drink too much at the start of the banquet. Getting drunk later would be bad.” Qinglan immediately moved to check them, and perhaps the intent to protect was too obvious, for Han Yueqi beside her began to laugh. “Our Qinglan — always so impartial, as ever.”

She was reminding Qinglan not to be so openly protective of Dai Yuquan — for sitting across from them was a god of slaughter who had just returned from hunting a tiger.

But Qinglan, never one to read between the lines, feared that Dai Yuquan would feel awkward sitting with Lingbo and the others, and kept finding things to say to him. “Master Dai has been in the capital for some time now,” she said. “What are your impressions of the Flower-Informing Banquet? I seem to recall that people in the south of the Yangtze also have customs of admiring flowers.”

Dai Yuquan smiled. “I had heard of the Flower-Informing Banquet’s reputation even in the south, and longed to attend. Now that I have experienced it in person, I find it truly elegant — admiring flowers according to the season is charming indeed. Though it does feel a bit rushed, and having only late winter and early spring means many summer and autumn flowers are missed. That is rather a pity.”

Qinglan immediately grasped his meaning. “Quite right. The south is water country, and so many of its flowers bloom in summer. When my late mother was alive, my sisters and I traveled with her to the south and drifted by boat through fields of lotus — truly an exquisite pleasure not easily come by elsewhere.”

Han Yueqi, seeing the two of them growing more and more animated in conversation, hurried to cut in. “Speaking of lotus — I came across a ci poem that suits Qinglan quite well. Qinglan, you drew the lotus in the flower lots, didn’t you? You’ll love this poem when you hear it.”

“What poem?” Qinglan asked.

She wouldn’t say, but Shen Biwei had already guessed. “Is it the one written by a woman?”

“That’s the one.” Han Yueqi smiled. “I came across it in the dead of night when I couldn’t sleep, flipping through a book. It really is beautifully written. Fine poetry is rare to begin with, and fine poetry written by a woman is rarer still — another layer of beauty. Because she is speaking for us women…”

She herself thought nothing of it, but Qinglan was immediately struck. A lady of the house, managing a thousand duties, yet unable to sleep in the dead of night — clearly her heart must be in great turmoil of late.

“Has Shen Yunze been troubling you again?” Qinglan stopped thinking about the poem at once and, in a voice only the two of them could hear, asked quietly. Han Yueqi only smiled and said nothing. “It’s nothing.” Her wine tolerance was already poor, and she had been drinking more than usual lately; her cheeks were already flushed. She rested her head on Qinglan’s shoulder, very quietly.

And so Qinglan leaned against her in return. The two held hands, saying nothing, brow to brow, watching Wei Yushan across the table as he lavished praise on Cui Jingyu’s tiger hunt. The begonia trees by the water swayed in the breeze, a stillness of quiet beauty settling over them.

Shen Biwei, seeing this, smiled and recited: “Together they lean into the spring breeze beside the painted hall; pressed close, they must be whispering of how long the night has been. Same branch, same leaf — why should this be? Each heart beats with its own subtle fragrance.” “A little commonplace, perhaps, but perfectly suited to the moment.”

“Is that Yelü Chu’s poem on the twin-headed peony?” Qinglan let Han Yueqi rest against her, reached out to brush her cheek, and smiled at Shen Biwei.

“You know it — so you haven’t had your fill of flower-token lots either.” Lingbo and Shen Biwei were always trading barbs, and Lingbo added wistfully, “If I’d drawn that poem the other day, it would have been nice — quite auspicious.”

“I like plum blossom better, myself.” Though she had been a young mistress for four years and her child was already three, Han Yueqi still knew how to be endearing in front of Qinglan. “Qinglan, will you be my twin-headed peony?”

“Yueqi has had too much to drink.” Qinglan smiled and comforted her. “Yes, yes, alright — I’ll be your twin-headed peony.”

Han Yueqi leaned against Qinglan, while the table went on talking. Qinglan gave her full attention to looking after her friend, asking Lv’e for a sobering broth and carefully coaxing Han Yueqi to drink it. She was always like this — once she turned her attention to caring for someone, she had eyes for nothing else. In weather like this, she wore jade bangles with a handkerchief tucked into them; when she lifted her hand, her wrist was just barely visible, the jade of the bracelet almost indistinguishable from the color of her skin.

She was far thinner than she had been four years ago.

Cui Jingyu watched Qinglan quietly, and with sharp perception caught another gaze also watching her — one carrying unmistakable admiration.

If she weren’t always shielding this Dai Yuquan, who had appeared from some obscure corner, he would have thrown the man to the tiger’s jaws long ago.